Lately I find myself with cheap- literature- pretentius- sponges, with southerner parrots whom can’t stop to crying by the corners with a ridiculous loss feeling. They should regret more about the language in their history. Desert virgins tales.
I found an anti-me, hypocrisy becomes a person, cultural garbage, visual artist. Sure.
Poor lost lives. Poor anchorages. Poor of those that think found themselves here. Your lives suck. Poor of those that sarcasm means beautiful. Poor out-of-place minds, how make you happiest if you say hapié. Pseudo lives is what you have, ergo I have.
Corse lives in your corse ilusion. I shut up but not talking. How believe itself with the right?
Note: Provocation wears condom. Wink wink.
16
Mar
09
Comensalismo 
Great one, Melpomeni.
I also find garbage these days,
specially under my bed
when i wake up lost in the sheets
and it smells like someone has been loving;
what is this smell? it is feelings underneath,
rotten.
love should be forbidden in order to achieve a higher human understanding?
masturbation is better?
stop to feel
your provocations were answered, melpomeni.
the world works like a clock
maybe the future is predictable?