There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a Quarter-Pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.

mercoledì 3 giugno 2009


Laddove tutto inizia e poi finisce,
e dove nel mezzo,
alla fin fine,
lascia solo un indelebile ricordo...

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