a red shirt. talking heads: 77
Vicky and I walked the city. It's hot, I have worn legs and hugged a lot. In the midst of all that I can not stop feeling that, somehow, I move. If not talk about progress. Forward or backward is more or less the same, what matters is moving.
And we move. Sorry we walk past, my legs tired and hot.
Sometimes I'm scared to stay still. Do not move again, I say. Last night I felt almost fleetingly. A long time ago that I was wrong.
course today, especially when we eat ice cream (especially when we eat ice cream), everything looks clear and I'm there, moving near the center of the wheel. Near the center one moves, slow and quiet, but moves. And is not alone.
must have to do with it.
And with the city. (I can not detach from the city, they knew?)
Oh, I forgot: we knocked on 3 December (www.benzedrine.com.ar). Come and bring friends there, the place you pay us, after party and the entry there are just three pesinis.
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