Saigon. Shit.
[WARNING: This post is subject to post-trots disappointment in love]
will not speak of the Fort. Indeed
maybe yes, but not now, because the information that I know of threatening me, my family, my friends, their children, their children's children, my women and, incidentally, even your mother.
will not speak of my recent experiences and my new knowledge, as my memories of pullulino tasty anecdotes about human folly and sull'abbrutimento soul in situations of captivity.
not even talk about my future, to which I look with the incurable optimism of a dodo.
I'll just say this: freedom is overrated. The rest, ditto. Since I returned
home is a series of media events to empty message to which no one answers, to "see you in these days." They are, indeed, a very uninteresting person on the outside (as I lead a very intense spiritual life and possesses a rich inner arise, St. Augustine I should just suck the beans), but damn, this makes it seem like the desert social life Papillon a new year with Roy Paci and his band of wags.
spend my days, waiting for something to move, to do gymnastics not regain the weight they lost, not to lose the muscles acquired. Desperate enterprise. Beginning to resemble a kind of Travis Bickle and are just going to make me seriously the mohawk. I retain only the fact of not knowing what form it may take my bare head.
For you, after a month when the kindest thing you have heard is "asshole! dickhead "by a Neapolitan chef fat fucking scum of the earth, at least the minimum you think" ah, I come home, so that finally there ways I will use urban pig god. "
way back, but not exactly the rivers of milk and honey and carefree nymphs who play in a pond below the falls.
Contact your friends, but they seem to zombies, the serfs (in the medieval sense) who spend their wages in alcohol, which are idle or magnificence to the bar to share long silences. Sometimes the silence is broken and there is talk of high school, but do you remember that morning ceeeeh upstream claro erupted Lost? Perhaps, you think after a while 'before you sit down you were talking, the silence you brought you here. Nothing easier: at the table there are a number of well-known former friends, with friends, but the boundaries between each other and are rather blurred lately. But who wants to understand these things now. Too tired. Impalateli all, then Christ will judge them. Consult a book that skeletal
not swell for months and months to see if anything is still possible to remedy the archive pussies, and nothing, all busy, busy, annoyed, silent. Exit
evenings at sea, who knows, maybe there's some concert, some reggaettara a bit 'wrong with the skirt with flowers, and instead you're stuck between the cover and heavy metal dream theater nerd. You look around and see the same guys at the bar of the country, while the department pussy all the best stuff is included in the group on stage, the rest of the stuff from one part of Bosch, attractive, and with the receding chin venticinquesettenni eyed greasy hair and movements sea lions. Cristosanto. You get up hurriedly in the ass with a little 'difficulty, and the Short oh, the usual playlist of shit! Prodigy, Blur, Chemical Brothers, Rage Against The Machine, System Of A Down, stuff 10 years ago, perfect for the couple with memories rescued by necromancers at the bar the day before. Spotted a group of beautiful little mouse dancing sun, of which two are just good, you come closer and just say a friendly "Hello", and those close to curl, from dancers who were digivolve in a flash alternates in mathematics and physics, and strict but fair you drive away with a "but no, thanks, okay, hello hello". Lesbian shit, you die screaming. Note a bizarre knot near there: a beautiful Topina surrounded by five thugs. The expression on their faces say "competition." You approach to test the nature of the curious crowd (after all you are a guy who is alarmed when even sniff a gang rape, if nothing else is watching a good opportunity to touch) and realize that not only are trying to grasp all and 5, but did not know each other, because they ask each other names. Note also that some people are worse off than you (and them): close to a friend of hers, which obviously behind the crack, is to watch and suffer, while welcoming the substantial amount of NO which distributes it to his Beatrice desperate people around her. Poor devil, do you sympathize with his misfortune, and while you're watching that eludes him that she oversees the string that gives thugs. This
you down. What the fuck happened to everyone? Always something to be really successful. Perhaps the pain in the feet and muscles, poor sleep, the treatment reserved by the Gestapo to you from your head you have tarnished the memory. When was the last time this place has given you milk and honey?
Answer: pretty much, when you were in high school. And not even so much honey, to say the truth.
Suddenly, you feel the need to tell someone your funny adventures of long ago.
I feel like a veteran unappreciated, like Rambo. Vietnam was the best: I'm back for a week and already I'm sick of these balls are peaceful and defenseless asshole.
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