apenas

mais uma vez (outra vez, e de novo) deixo que as coisas falem por mim. e à parágrafos curtos porém espaçados eu me espreguiço, estou toda torta. sou toda torta. já não consigo terminas as frases. elas vão -. pareço possuir inúmeros esconderijos. nunca é o suficiente. querido futuro: não acredito em você. ainda, acima de tudo, me agarro aos pequenos detalhes e me sinto bem. por milésimos de segundo. o branco no preto, sabe como é? pelo menos estou respirando. tentando editar. tudo ficando trôpego, tráfego, tanto. "I liked places like that where one thing runs into another, blurring the boundaries. Night and day; the sauce on a plate; the things they're selling in the shop right up near the cafe tables. I think that came from my love for her. She was like an evening moon, her white light almost swallowed up by the gradations of pale blue sky." ocultar visualização. &

- Why are you so hostile?
- I am not hostile.
- Yes, you are. You act like you're incredibly put out by, I don't know, being alive! And maybe you think that's cool, but really... it's just irritating.
- ... okay, thanks for the input, which is totally irrelevant, but apparently you need to feel all superior or something...
- I mean, if you just take a look at your life you really don't have that much to be angry about.
- You don't know anything about my life.
- Yeah, and I'm not really sure if I want to, considering how you like to shit all over everything.