A village dream

So I seemed may stopping the stress
Since of the spring.
I may don’t worring, don’t reading don’t writing
Don’t learn nothing even I may would be don’t drink,
Don’t hear about else’s global news.
I could be again rising a big pumpkins nut cucumbers and the strawberry.
You must come back to native language.
No it’s bored I’ve already hobit to double disco-urage tracks into my head.
All past left back.
I was stupid but I strong of second mind:
“No need hold on to weel of wagon, which droving to bottom from a hill.”
I are making long time exact it.
Who are a clim to care
In most time wouldn’t care about your feilt or garden
But only about own self in outcome.
The pice in heart I get with the spring
And with the little sip of 40vol.
You would be starting with this.
Where my strawe cap for pumpkin owner?
My perfect cat dead without must attention till I watch on any clovns war in shapito for money.
He was 25 years age only and he could be longer life.
We still together with one gray cat, he killer of a mous and love me
But he have many years age too. Us been three but now us two.
We rising with he big harvest of a pumpkins I so think.
Or maybe no.
So nice discern such idiot you was, it give a hope that now you became more smart.
Don’t rely to impossible things.
Your village home too in terrible condition.
I would be sale it but nobody don’t buy it.
My house love only my, I look in as the fat buyer even don’t know open the floor.
It just aren’t a owner by a core. Everything is going that is ok.
For it need a money.
I plant pumpkins and droving away I need only gas and sigarets.
A life anyway haven’t a mean.
It’s a next sip?
Exactly.
I goes on with the vitamins tomorrow.
“sweet potato porridge” for sly village fox?
If you so please.
But the portion anyway is trap, the dream about potato porridge.
I know the classic plot but the mean are dubious in mesn double
I already to debate about.
Then why you retelling the plot now.
I don’t take from there no one word even don’t remember it.
But it the same plot about little dream about a little plate ful of sweet potato porridge,
Only so.
I was tell about my proud pumpkins, you just pale book worm.