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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2018-10-08 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] | I'm waiting for something bad to happen, my emotions are often a troop of horses on a huge motorway, I'm getting thin in the dark until I turn into a lamp wicker, watching the monsters of creation and Judas detached from an engraving, kissing to the left and right, The God at my neck isn't involved in these small and unimportant things, though sometimes in the morning he asks me what I've written good and worthy to read for the weird world, caught in the letter like in a fish hook. I'm waiting for something bad to happen with all the belvederes in the station, with the naughty hips of the defiant young girls as some big and dangerous birds, I'm alive, I've got my own battle, I'm so cute.
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