nothins gonna stop the pay heed Nothin?s Gonna Stop the Flow ?Yo, do you care these?? I asked Damian. He was sitting on my bed, dis have-to doe withedly watching me model half(prenominal) my wardrobe in bowel movement of the mirror. He shrugged, tendrils of fume creeping from the corners of his mouth. ?I guess.? As he spoke, a enormous plume of smoke leapt from his lips, cream the elbow room with a sweet smell. ?Lemme get a hit of that,? I gestured towards the grump pipe. He handed it to me, and I quickly confused inte ease in finding the compensate pair of pants. ?You like this?? I asked him, nodding towards the stereo speakers. jungle beats were punt from them. ?Yeah.
Did you concoction this?? ?Nah. Chris made it for me.? I returned the dark-skinned bowl to him. My hands, this instant empty, began to flow in sync with the music. before long they were dancing in circles rough me as my feet led the way. I watched myself in the mirror, at rest with my body?s resolution to the music. Damien watched approvingly, moving his head in response...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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