Monday, October 6, 2008

How To Wear A Shirt Loose Tie

Save as draft: The text message of the Nuit Blanche

The white night, sleepless night, he saw a script to take place so classic that it is now worn out: Wine - exaltation - Wine - quiet - wine - frustration final.
course, if the excitement is expressed through dance or verbal assaults ipoteticissime prey, and the calm is not expressed precisely, frustration, discouragement, depression, always compel me to write. At the end of the night
white, isolated from the crowd, step ten minutes celular. Reflections to be concentrated in 160 characters. A long pause to note that my cell phone and threw out But you're writing a novel? , and I And why not? . Yeah, why not? Maybe call it "alcoholic depression", or "The drunk depressed."

Draft # 1 03:58
Only among people who more or less fun, as everyone is lonely group. In my usual prey to obsessions and paranoia. Confirmed that always true.

Draft # 2 04:01
Because when everybody has fun in some way but I started to depress? The night helps dark thoughts. Life is endless tedium.

Draft # 3 04:03
My shyness is shameful, guilty as an original sin. I had taken a vow of self-destruction before 30 if nothing had changed. Nothing has changed

Draft # 4 04:05
Kill the old self seems impossible. Continues to thrive. Replace it with something better, so hard. Always the same outer and inner emptiness.

Draft # 5 04:09
I look around. Do not act. Always something unspoken. The same old Tare. Something eats me inside. I do not know find out, kill him. And I can not accept it.


The strange thing to think about it, is that at 4 am the wine into the body that stimulates even the late-adolescent depression, including thoughts, I began to set on the only thoughts that support me in that moment seemed to be used , the mobile phone. I adapted the form of my thoughts to the space of a text message. And despite a minimum of drunkenness, the style is the same as if I had been on autopilot. (In Actually, this proves that I was not really drunk, who has received email from me, written by very drunk, knows that style begins to slip away). That even then I lose my writing sms quote, more or less openly, the Leopards as Morrissey, this is almost scary, honestly.

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