What the sun, how cold, how bird-in-cage pious because his mother is away one night ...!
What time without turning around, while words that do not know if I feel, but leave the tic tic tic of keys, of my being, confusion ... ...
In a strange season,
peculiar in a year,
& ament can not see and imagine. And everything I do and do not care, and also for what I do and I care not just ...
Because I like to disappear right away, without fear, without anger, without fear and not finding anything ...
meantime, I am in a fever, I think. My eyes give off heat, warmth that I miss in my cold room, alone, motionless. Tomorrow maybe I'll be sick so I'll swallow ibuprofen
savior in industrial quantities to prevent this from happening.
... And more, I am skeptical and I go to bed at ten.
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