Here I write what I please.
Nice way to start. Always disrespecting the old habit of wanting smug arrogance to hide in it is a fiction, there too I do not care what you say, which is equal to that which is all I care. That actually going to be all the time hoping to do some positive feedback on my accuracy to combine coffee and sugar this morning, nervously waiting for the laughter, applause secret between the two, after my joke on the other days I do not know what upsets us, or why not, stay for that will show you how well you please let me hair today at the Centre, which after all will not be cut down to me, but the hair itself, and how.
The fucking human condition of sterilized pure immanence. The search for meaning, a sense. In one, whichever.
Besides I have to write something, some time to think during those times when I get me a costadito, and located in the space next to moi , Martín Alvarez that sunk into the couch, swallowed up by the sly morphology cushion, and then I wonder how this guy can continue to divide between a very poor selection and the occasional television movie with luck, or a disc from time to time, that is something, but not enough. And yes, someday I have to write something, maybe that is the shape. Method.
Or maybe this morning I have been given the pill, or the amount has not been the necessarily cautious and this would be the speech of a madman, do better.
would be better, perhaps, be left empty explanations, vague and rather clumsy and shed, once and for all, that first bottle Suquía cyberspace. The first entry in the notebook of Non-Paper by requiring cables. Here the monster is going electronic. Quite a gift. Merry Christmas, baby . The kid, inmutabilis .
And I hope it has been clear: here I'll write what I please, or if you prefer, what I sing the sunrise. But that does not say that I suck any eggs.
0 comments:
Post a Comment