My morning. Dream about cigarettes smoke

Cold air and a sharp Morning, has not yet darken stench of exhaust fumes of cars and breathing other people, torn chest.

It is easily and freely, but this becomes cold and lonely. We want to be someone that warm and caress. But realize that no one cozy, because you do not have anyone, and this becomes a sad and plaintively to the heart. We want to sleep more and not to awake.

Lost fog closed me from the world, close to pushing one another reality and the dream. Even cigarette smoke, it is not dissolved before the end, leaving a cloud of corrosive. If a little stand and walk them, then there is that sense of revulsion that a desire to quit cigarettes and never smoke.

But the habits and passions of certain desire to take over power and forced to move away from mere clouds. It is anyone outdoor. Only occasionally reluctant is to work passers. It is dawning has not yet begun, so there is a pleasant street shade, occasionally soluble of lanterns.

Quiet light. Heard only barely breathing and heart audible beating. Finish smoking years with the cigarette falls in puddles. I'm Feeling Bored, but pleased. Feeling are calm. It is again cigarettes. Fog slowly begins distraction, claiming with a serenity and warm .Blow northern wind. At Tel ran shivering. Want to go out there ... where the heat.

At the head of habit turned into law. In the eyes swooped green-gray school. There is a desire, but it is another to go home. Again the wind blowing, throw out every thought of the head. As soon disappeared and desire. Looking as the expression of a person became indifferent.

It has been all along. Inness is dream, in reality, as the fog coming in the morning. The world has been sated autumn paints. Under their feet became clear differ felled leaves and dead grass. Everything was disgusting and sad. It is nor soul around. In this dismal landscape, through thick clouds network, tried to look cold autumn sun. But the attempt failed.

Again the wind blowing, enraged indifference of nature, frustrating the past leaves with trees, rushes towards me. I accepted the ice and severe blow to the face by closing their eyes fully devote to ice flow. Wind becomes silent. At persons left feeling torn. Breath lost.

Had been stopped and recover. Had been recovered, mechanically want smoking. Hand is habitually stretching to bundle cigarettes, but that it is not allowed to do so. Quietness is prevalent after wind gust, at Davila ears.

Calm start oppresses. Half deafen rate through dirt, which accumulated at the pier did not trail, wanted to move quickly to be in school ... strange desire...... Whether fully simmered.

Fog has been scattered as dreams. It is morning.