Donde solo se admiten la gente anormal de Twitter & Tumblr:
Que este locamente enamorada de alguien que vive a 41654545km. y ni sabe de su existencia.
Donde todos hacemos caras así:
& todos hacemos expresiones así:
Donde nuestros profesores sean ellos:
{etc}
& en donde solo se admitan LATINAS.
En fin, ¡ESTA SERÍA MI ESCUELA IDEAL!
lastima que no existe.
siempre esta la madura que dice dejen de hacer boludeces:
la que va mirando pibes:
la que grita como una loca:
la creida:
la que va contando historias:
la que pide pasar por la casa de su amor imposible :
la que le duele las piernas:
I’ve never seen any animal move so fast. They slide down the vines as if the things were greased. Leap impossible distances from tree to tree. Fangs bared, hackles raised, claws shooting out like switchblades. I may be unfamiliar with monkeys, but animals in nature don’t act like this.
“Mutts!” I spit out as Finnick and I crash into the greenery.
I bring down monkey after monkey, targeting eyes and hearts and throats, so that each hit means a death. But still it wouldn’t be enough without Finnick spearing the beasts like fish and flinging them aside, Peeta slashing away with his knife. […]
Peeta turns to see my predicament and is sliding off his sheath when it happens. A monkey lunges out of a tree for his chest. I have no arrow, no way to shoot. I can hear the thud of Finnick’s trident finding another mark and know his weapon is occupied.[…]
Weaponless, defenseless, I do the only thing I can think of. I run for Peeta, to knock him to the ground, to protect his body with mine, even though I know I won’t make it in time.
