"Sucks to be me," Lauren repeated for the tenth time in the morning, tomorrow he perceived even in her pajamas, which he received even on Valentine, who saw even at the wrong time, moss cover own words I knew should not say but that was o. Was this o.
birds singing, of course. Symphonies unrepeatable merry melodies, qe qe is that language cute, no? Poultry Greetings, greetings back, thought, and opened the window and whistled back, "Go away with that peak at the same shit." He lit his computer and saw the familiar sight in recent weeks. And this idiot qe not greet the messenger, this idiot qe me is not supported, this is my stupid idiot qe. My stupid, think Lorena. Your stupid, exchange a word now and more. Alternatives includes: two bottles of the finest alcohol rub shoulders with Smirknoff that shit on the table. What to do, what to do ... I should buy that corkscrew, he thinks. I should get that compracorchos, sapien. I should hunt that corchoponchos, asni. I should punch that guy. I should perhaps think about it a bit more reasonable Lorena. Maybe I should call again. Or her. I do not know. Lorraine picked up the phone and called: No response.
It lies on the bed, unable to accommodate it in the box padding. is one of those days I think? I cojudísima today or I think? I'm wanting to say something or I think? Qiero not say anything. I can not feel anything. I do not feel anything. Sucks to be me. Contemplate several options again, sees the bottles lined up on the table. Remember the 14 February. Mierdrero 14, rather.
is thrown on the bed and say hello to her stuffed animals. Stare at him a moment, before laughing at her.
Oh, shit. Mierdamierdamierdamierdamierda. How to concentrate? How to distract my mind? Getting some of that bothers me qe inside, how to write it, how to be that damn alchemist of ideas, snatch comparisons, spit in the face while trampling his arms. Trampling, ajajajaja. I said in my damn life trampling on the day to day. Like that, for example. Put floor, floor, floor, never trampling. Take a pen his desk and starts to dial your skin. Floor, floor, floor, pusi, Puzzy, flat, pessimistic But I wrote the scripts qien Piza, Pizza, Pezza, Tepsa, Anepsa, But how am I gonna be writing this Wepa, Lepa, Repa, Tronu sickle. novel is that shit. I bought it for qe. This album is shit, for qe him down. Is this shitty day, for qe awoke. Who's qita me this ... This ... this thing.
That thing has already forced to read The Little Prince three times in succession. That thing responsible for throwing three drafts of the novel perfect their babies will not get to read, aunqe you never know, if they become qizá recyclers and fortunately, for the Goddess of rare name, found two dirty pieces of meat, the beautiful Mom's manuscript, sad little soul in peace des. Cuts in human form, hopefully. But what else will I do if I can not do what I do. Oh, completely. Complete.
back to lie in bed and repeat the old year. Open your secret drawer and pulls out a couple of pills. Take another pair. And another and another. Happy pills, hello. Lunacy, bye. The first barely felt. The rest did not matter.
Ok, here I am. We are. Somos. know I love you so much but voice repeated in his head. It was the same idea that came to evade many weeks. Evade, weeks. He placed the pillow on her face and began to pray that the dream came quickly. Slow, the time that the voice of Anton near their ears repeating the same stupidity of last Christmas "And the time deserves to be killed." Quick mental count: Antón a full day at the police station one day + Sandra the resaquería full. Oh, yeah, oh, yes. The date, December 23. Day 38 of 40, but you have to be stupid, Lorena, totally stupid to design these cards you know well will unwritten letters, saying that chiqito as yours. Day 38 of 40. Day 94 February, to give a practical example, no? But here is the end, here is the end, this is the correct way to put an end once and for all, Valentine's Day, the Holiday of shit that it has lasted so many weeks in my head, my perpetual summer, in my endless summer fuck is it that in ten minutes what took two years to occur. With some logic, logic no longer want, you could say, as just your life in ten seconds it took 20 years to occur.
began to hear voices and wondered if anything had happened this time, finally, at last, Misfits Last Caress. came from the bathroom, giggling weak, the laughter of who told a joke and screw the debate between storyteller with something as bad or revise it again and again to see if not caught. elves laugh at me again and I was so stopped and leaned against the wall, the world gross, disgusting, writhing around it, creating obstacles that do not come a few hours to visit home, obstacles created stuffed animals, dancing wall of lies between them, really standing walls. Vertigo felt before deciding to leave. He opened the bathroom door and found what he knew would be there: 30x30 tiles soles fine finish to 8 m2. The laughter came to her room and she, realizing the evil of the fairies, he resolved to return. The world came to play at a private dance to a song when you first launch Qypthone. Scooter, say. A feast worthy of Paprika, not the hamster, you idiot. The film. Our urgent need to screw us life! Uggh, Lorena was wrong. Only conceived dialogues of his characters when he was actually placed.
I pulled one foot he left the bathroom. Fell quickly, thinking that life was so wonderful when he felt a bite on your body. He began to shout desperately, with enough force to wake his father. Take it away, Take it away and already in his arms, pulling Kill 'em, Dad and already in his mouth, suffocating her, putting her little paws on his nose, sticking their heads in their eyes that tried Estánenmirostromecomenpordentro Lorraine and already had eaten, and his face shattered, and skinned and thrown without knowing why, and one was climbing back after eating what she had eaten After returning from his stomach comiéndoselo all releasing a final laugh while his father gathered his head in the toilet seat and put his fingers in his mouth, forcing her to vomit, while mom hard pressed his belly to help a little.
[...] next day, wash your hair. The reprimands were the same as always. The pills, the same as always. The problem, all different, all that once was real.
- I wish I had not said anything. Happy Valentine to you, fuck you.
Biyuinfo!
- which started with the following Christmas to 5: 6 Stories Christmas Editions Biyu.
- It's my Scooter! SCOOTER!
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