Tell me, Winter,
What are you really hiding away?,
Below the snow, is there really just snow?,
Or is there some kind of sick play?,
Oh Winter, tell me.

We are the same, Winter.
We bury our sorrows with thick tears,
We struggle with the definition of truth,
We with our own Sun, slowly burning us out,
We reject anything but our own self-rejection.
I have become my own Winter.

Cristiano Ronaldo de bicicleta minha nossa

Ban on record heheheha

omg literaly furry slime