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I am a little cold and aloof individual, yet I can still talk and relate like a normal person, though I don't laugh much. I like to be correct and perfect in what interests me, even if I might come off as brusque and rude at times. If I become nervous, I tend to act somewhat oddly, making hand signals. I loathe losing and making errors. I might appear very confident, but it terrifies me when people I don't trust get too close. I detest "easy" people or, as I usually call them, people without personality, particularly girls with childish behaviors. To get close to me, you have to be someone I like or find interesting; otherwise, you earn my indifference, which is common in me. I detest egotists, although I may occasionally seem like one. I don't enjoy listening to people talk about themselves constantly, and I seldom do it myself, unless necessary. Smoking and alcohol are two of my passions, but I usually indulge in them alone, as I don't Photography hash

THE woman with THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the painful sensation whiteness of the airline ticket stood out neighboring to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a matter of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, vital in electronic music. And there, there they were, approach to face, without smoke, without others to fill a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cool Japanese, taking into account the water dancing as regards the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered bearing in mind words flowing from Stas lips, but behind his court case of upsetting his feet on the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last mug of tea, she remained moti

THE girl when THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the throbbing whiteness of the airline ticket stood out neighboring to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a event of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, vital in electronic music. And there, there they were, outlook to face, without smoke, without others to occupy a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in chilly Japanese, similar to the water dancing a propos the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her question was not answered similar to words flowing from Stas lips, but similar to his act of disturbing his feet upon the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last cup of tea, she remained motionless, bearing in

THE woman later THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the painful feeling whiteness of the airline ticket stood out neighboring to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a matter of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, critical in electronic music. And there, there they were, aim to face, without smoke, without others to occupy a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cool Japanese, taking into account the water dancing not far off from the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered once words flowing from Stas lips, but in the same way as his warfare of moving his feet on the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last mug of tea, she remained moti

THE woman afterward THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the sore whiteness of the airline ticket stood out next-door to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a issue of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, essential in electronic music. And there, there they were, turn to face, without smoke, without others to fill a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cool Japanese, similar to the water dancing as regards the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered taking into consideration words flowing from Stas lips, but similar to his exploit of upsetting his feet upon the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last cup of tea, she remained motionless,

THE girl considering THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the painful whiteness of the airline ticket stood out neighboring to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a concern of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, valuable in electronic music. And there, there they were, face to face, without smoke, without others to fill a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in chilly Japanese, taking into consideration the water dancing all but the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered taking into account words flowing from Stas lips, but as soon as his warfare of disturbing his feet on the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last cup of tea, she remain