drawers are filled books that were uninhabited when it was dirty coat tomorrow, his stories remind defeated characters, the truths that ended in an end because we were dying faster, autumn landscapes and hunger. succumbing feel me in the betrayal of the memory.
in another house I do not know how many I's suit before or many lost. The world looks the same.
When I see the roads as separate worlds, such as stamps sent farewell, says nostalgia 'm not the same as if it where not come off the road.
I released the wire that gave unity to the structure, everything is in itself a nonsense stud, grazed me, I breathe in gangrene of the tuber while as life continues.
I can not write a word.
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