Going mad late to make real an idea is good. Sleeping on the couch is fine. But after 11 is no longer possible, are piranha in the head and the Virgin of Nuremberg in the neck. The sofa also become a bed, but I did not have the strength to open it.
there is a railing on the balcony where the clothes hung take air. They must not have the clothes smell.
red pants and black vest, black sweater and red pants.
That beautiful black pen color hypnosis is over, picked up the coins and go buy it. Pens and milk. Two coffees. While I drink I see my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Eyes painted black hair, that create arabesques around the face, and the splash of purple ink on his cheek. Me enough money for a croissant, I'm going to wait for the bus. I only eat the croissants with jam that bar, one, two, five. Maybe a few days ago, someone offered me a plate of pasta, do not remember who. Twenty minutes on the beast of iron and plastic bouncing, watching people, seeing as no one returns your gaze for a long time, as we all retire because they have something to hide, so uncomfortable. A shameful secret, or a phobia of buttons.
At the bar there is someone I have not seen so much, we embrace a long time to exchange a bit of heat. A croissant, two latte cold un altro cornetto. La domanda più insidiosa è quel come stai che pretende una bugia. Come sto? Non ne ho idea. Questo mi fa stare bene, quello mi fa stare male, ma è tutto così labile, così confuso, così inafferrabile.
Un'ora, due, tre, ma in fondo cos'è il tempo? beviamo la vita altrui per riscaldarci il cuore, la mente, il corpo. Voglio bene a questa persona, le ho voluto bene, le vorrò bene.
Deve andare da degli amici, ma non la accompagnerò. Ho avuto abbastanza per oggi, non posso sopportare una folla.
Torno a casa e decido di fare una doccia. Eliminiamo la macchia di inchiostro dal viso, i colori che dalle mani si arrampicano su for the forearms. I mounted a mirror in the shower, is the only place where you can not hide. Sophira Van Ness was convinced that only become impure and bad fats. I do not know whether to believe, the fictional characters often do not tell the truth even if retail information and more a reality of their creators. I go out and have a new porcelain doll, with no scars.
I go back to the drawing board. After a while I'm uncomfortable and I move on the ground. I came back the desire to score was gone for several days. Mozart and Yuksek, Smiths and Uffie.
Towards evening, I realize that I did not eat, I did not drink, and the temperature dropped suddenly. My memory is not what I remembered. I call people, We meet two hours later. Start walking. In my mind still whirling images, shapes, Mad Meg, Antonin Arnaud, Angela Strassheim, rain, the sea. I miss the sea.
eat at a friend's house. I know it is not always nice to fall in the kitchen, but there is one month to the exhibition and the new wave of money. And then like, I bring a little something more. The others arrive, I try to convince them to go to the beach, do not know how I can. Two hours in the car with the music that poured from the speakers, we lose, we find ourselves, we lose again and we laugh, we arrive at the beach.
leaves me breathless, it takes me a while to remember to breathe while the cold block my fingers. Elle est retrouvée. Quoi? - Eternity. C'est la mer allée Avec le soleil. let us take off their clothes, Throw in the belly of the sea. Good feeling. Dark colors, swirling, and the sun rises
