furtive thoughts and not feel like doing that, but that seems so strange to want to fuck scissors and cut my hair myself, or not, make a collage or cook something amazing seriously wealthy but I do not , something stops me. In my imagination I look to the side and I glance over the horizon with its long horizontal line as from left to right, and its lyrics and music to 20 make me feel that I have to do something very special for me because I have almost seven more and when I say nearly seven hours and I separated a starry sky, and hopefully looking forward pa hug and lazily Lay There and eat a very pink frosted cake with candles em all. and then I remember those fragments of my young adolescence to adulthood and scratching the words of Violeta Parra and so is life, carlota and Milory towers and seven and their adventures and Sundays at the pool and the patio so green and the total disregard of only worrying about these concerns so characteristic of not knowing and wondering things and learning, strangled love, very pink nail polish and a case of you and tori and melancholy and be happy and not so happy, yet always intense. and gives me joy to see me now, so I know myself even though those years were behind us and we want both and a glass of wine would be great, part of the ongoing evolution as a person and included wine tasting and fun times and my flashes of pictorial illusion and scraps of cloth, and those big eyes plumetti in the mirror.
a lock falls to the floor and finished the video.
