I feel like writing. I want to write I want to write I feel like writing but I do not know what to write. Surely the fever that rushes to my head. Bon bin to get the urge, I'll tell the shit for a change. After all, I've never realized that, as long as people were all selfish. Then my turn to be, and you can once more by my overwhelming ego. This guh-blocking will also be the single place where I allow myself the right to be unbearable in real life, I intend to step aside. Do not be surprised not to hear me and just notice me.
It's Christmas, so soon the new year, so my birthday soon, so soon the concert Late of the Pier. I decided to drink less, because I realized, in frightening circumstances, that I was an alcoholic. Well, not any alcoholic, an alcoholic socialite. Oh yeah dude, it's a little thing that changes everything. Or not.
So, as I will drink less, I'm looking to get drunk in a new way. Result, I read a lot more, and I'm not against smoking two or three psychotropic stuff (like Dora).
Right now I only listen to Patrick Wolf and Grammatics. Yeah. Yet Grammatics y ' another year I find it pretty bad, but hey, we must believe that over time we made it. Pis should not lie, it makes me really happy to hear the voice of Owen. Besides, I believe (or not) that through my many posts on their myspace like "I want you to come in France Until The End of the Year" that they decided to come to a gig in February. Ok it's not Until The End of the Year but it was not far. Good
otherwise immensely funny thing: I'm gonna make a gig myself. But my group was a joke at first, a hobby. And then by chance, then another, and not bad luck, bim, it offers me a Blowin Part One. So duh, although not to the point, but then not at all, bah was accepted. We are not in the shit now hold. But hey it's cool like that, we invested to death for the least ridiculous as possible, it should go (haha).
Voila. You saw how beautiful life is now.
I wonder how come (out) lives to spend Christmas away from his family in a 9m ² with a stranger. One. And receive only one gift per year. One. And how come (out) lives to spend his day in front of a TV that leases the eyes of the head because it is the only occupation. Alone. And how (to) live away from those we were supposed to protect. And how (to) live with this label, with this shadow blackened never disappear. I miss you, asshole.
It's Christmas, so soon the new year, so my birthday soon, so soon the concert Late of the Pier. I decided to drink less, because I realized, in frightening circumstances, that I was an alcoholic. Well, not any alcoholic, an alcoholic socialite. Oh yeah dude, it's a little thing that changes everything. Or not.
So, as I will drink less, I'm looking to get drunk in a new way. Result, I read a lot more, and I'm not against smoking two or three psychotropic stuff (like Dora).
Right now I only listen to Patrick Wolf and Grammatics. Yeah. Yet Grammatics y ' another year I find it pretty bad, but hey, we must believe that over time we made it. Pis should not lie, it makes me really happy to hear the voice of Owen. Besides, I believe (or not) that through my many posts on their myspace like "I want you to come in France Until The End of the Year" that they decided to come to a gig in February. Ok it's not Until The End of the Year but it was not far. Good
otherwise immensely funny thing: I'm gonna make a gig myself. But my group was a joke at first, a hobby. And then by chance, then another, and not bad luck, bim, it offers me a Blowin Part One. So duh, although not to the point, but then not at all, bah was accepted. We are not in the shit now hold. But hey it's cool like that, we invested to death for the least ridiculous as possible, it should go (haha).
Voila. You saw how beautiful life is now.
I wonder how come (out) lives to spend Christmas away from his family in a 9m ² with a stranger. One. And receive only one gift per year. One. And how come (out) lives to spend his day in front of a TV that leases the eyes of the head because it is the only occupation. Alone. And how (to) live away from those we were supposed to protect. And how (to) live with this label, with this shadow blackened never disappear. I miss you, asshole.
Mood: false.
RB: Grammatics: Shadow Committee.
Pic: Patrick Wolf .
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