Here comes the rain again.Falling on my arms like a tragedy.Reminding me of pain, as these drops wash away the tears falling down my cheeks.

We are the children of a womb.Yet we differentiate each other, On color, creed and the sizes of our tombs!!

Your beauty is tragic.It is the sweetest sin, Heaven ever created!

You sit right next to me.Still you don't seem close to me.

Life is uncertain.Today you get a rose.Tomorrow you feel the thorns.But the end result is red, always!!

All of a sudden, You seemed to beStranger than a fiction, to me.

Babynology.com explores baby names of all origins

Whatever the Clave was discussing, the Council meeting was dragging on brutally late. “But he knows New York. He doesn’t know Alicante—

Organized people are just too lazy to look for things

In the war between the humans and the robots, the humans had to win. Call me hopeful.

My guitar and singing was my way of crying.

I sing the joy of wandering and the pleasure of the wanderer's death

I love European movies and I kind of grew up on European films.

It is a singular characteristic of love that we cannot hide it where it exists, or pretend it where it does not exist.

Blaming mother is just a negative way of clinging to her still.

I implore those who love me to love my solitude.