When he is just a cosmic objects lost and lack of support. When wriggle between phosphorescent nebulas, the universe made of colored dust, blowing fog over orange streetlights, crawling with sticky feet and the intricacies of exactly twelve o'clock, the darkness that emerges clearly through the cornices of buildings, the roofs of straight lines and simple shapes that intertwine and magically form a grotesque image of heaven and hell step. In those moments get recognized on the face that projects mysteriously the window on the plaster of the wall. And every time it becomes more difficult to maintain that look cross-eyed.
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