Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
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Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
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Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
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Författarblogg och bokblogg av Martin Falkman - författare till Tunneln i slutet av ljuset och Mördarens väg.
Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more. (Markus Zusak)
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