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I dreamt that I woke up in a car, in the back seat, hugging a guitar case with the inscription "Julia," and a black friend was sitting in the front, frantically looking around, driving away from a chase. And he had a gun in his hand. I remember saying, "I'll help you now," and suddenly I start climbing into the guitar case. I ask if he's ready, and he replies, "Everything's ready!" A weapon appears in my hand, and I shout, "I'm going to shoot at their tires!" and aim at the window. Drug addiction.
Все псы попадают в рай
Какие бы законы мы не писали, нас все равно расстреляют, если мы проиграем эту войну.