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So we go on with all this crap that you made me feel while reading your little thingie:
It´s from the gutter all the whips in fat hands of filth, all the gestures someone may find
ugly to look at, but I don´t affirm here that I believe in what I write, and this happens because I am actually not writing anything. I hear the sound of this squared frame of images and it pulls me into it. I will be present the day after the day I live to see the olympic games in Rio, after the brazilian world cup. Cup of ice for my herb, her err.
Magic toaster, guess what that is. Yes. Grant me this favor: smoke where the smoke won´t find me. Unless, of course, you know damn well. Hit the road, Jack, if there was a Jack. What about me? I don´t have a Jack. What´s a jack? Hmmm... Think. Think about all the things we shared, said the rollerband. I´d rather not say that. Ask me if I want to check my income taxes. Alright, don´t. I tell you the answer, though. I´d rather have my accountant do it. Guess. I don´t have an accountant. What now? You said vomit. I say go go go. Hit it!
Right in front of my face there was the truth.Did I see it? Did anyone see it? Hello?Hello?
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