Sometimes I like to wear saliva until my language is not how wet the palate, to run out of air in the lungs, which is only the hope of purging flame of any substance. I've never gone too soon to tell stories because I run out of argument, choking to extract their juice, choking to death without thinking. In this ongoing dialogue with myself never think about the audience that I can read, but I shawl in my own feces to digest and taste, favors a chain of feedback that has been happening since my birth, expelling some anger in form of creation, trampling on good intentions to keep the ground of conscience, unknown land that no one would envision, as just me, out of boredom. If not for this keyboard inky black keys, I could never stay stable long without going mad. I need to travel, to hunt without knowing what they find. I can not bear to sink into a comfortable routine and hot, since it would be the curtain that separates me from the world. I want to marry an actress, with a circus performer to abandon at the last moment, and never think more in past or future, but keep pounding on the fly until it runs out the source of dreams. Then lying dead and unresponsive. But now I'm all nerves and I will not stop, I will not cut the tap kept my thoughts crammed into a cubicle, dark gray, as if many people together in a small room, they end up killing. That is my thesis and I defend to the death, and I care little microorganisms in Southeast Asia, or the theory of catastrophes. I do not want life to explain the differential equations, but with my limited resources to exploit it, trap it under tough and flexible tentacles and squeeze every moment and every illusion. I want an orgy of hormones in my head and I want it now, I do not want explanations, I do not quiet but death in its purest form, I want danger, I want a train plowing field at full speed, I want a platform full of Jews and unknown artists, who to me, to play at the target with my flabby brains, I risk, I feel ashamed of my stupidity and continue to grow. I no longer enough to be able to get work and sit on the couch grateful for a pleasant break tax. Prefer to rest when I'm sane, when the madness stop playing football with my nerve endings, just as she decides ...
