FW281

FW281

Coffee with writing With art and that was outright after understood and captured … Sigh! They dared the challenge. Arrested only by a wire. They saw, but not repaired. Exciting and something eloquently passed by a look of understanding and behold the brightness of the look, it was at that site which if consumed and spoke and was already present. The writer is the one that nothing depends on, but everything needs and causes the last gasp of must if hit in what has not, but causes suffer more need to feed your desire of never completed … …Then a female voice listened to the girl and a light but look deeply puzzling, how could there be?!, and everyone feel but no one gave for it, because the thought you said, so that one day the flourished questioned about sanity or the supposed folly of being crazy, he does not have, but want more, always suffers in the words, writing but not said that there was one in which saw the write and read and then commented: “he” Yes he writes and does not stop, how do you stop writing, only a madman is writes everything, and a mute knew at what point the world would cover … This otherwise known and entre-conhecido convicted. The pen more estimated was a culmination, everything raises desire to listen, but as already disclosed, but never written is a screwed up is always an ugly way to get alcohol into the wound, all esfarrapa-of which it never omitted because they mark between them. Had a simple pen, that fascinating, was so sharp, only as a way to feel the sharp pain by more efficient blade, the cutting stylus tip lacerating … and always infinite ink and restrained mind seeing that reported who had no right winger that he passed, is crazy, how are people to rest, because the other always speaks, and respond normally to it if you want, everything below the simple need for Hello, how are you and bye. And the issue was that he wrote and not feared anything that just want. But as everything depended on and thought that the best weapon in the infinite and a unifying science of letters that formed sentences of charm and always displeased if turned. He understood and enjoyed in thirsting, so the conversation was, I don’t know talk, sorry but if you want to have a book to show you, is that I have written what many think and so I have said, no one read or even understand, that that would head out more black smoke, which is not simple that Word, broken, and here that of a simplistic way he said time, and heard “or it here”, all those who have not read, but once shown the wisdom of writing that someone dedicated to read and understand someone who never read, engaging and said, Oh dude writes, listened once more “respect”. However the writer is only if you want to know who he is or get the idea there he writes? Nothing was said, and behold to end said “o friend”, because to me the “writer’s café”, risks for me here kid. A coffee, a break, a confidential request and a gesture a bit surprised, however he was writing and how someone can write without having to read and write at the speed of thought … (to be continued) The other said is the heart, but these headaches are those who have never felt and never forgotten. The man drove up to me and said: see there, is what can and bouncing a toothpick between the teeth and the blink of an eye, a little rascal and wondered, what he did and said, and the simple, the only paper and pen and desired a coffee on the table and their respective Cup of tap water. That only knew what I was writing only when suited him. However all you auscultavam the same sweetness, is weird, the guy is weird, that is, it passes. How this takes place without leaving their merely written. Anyone heard of the young man? I speak it but it is important to see that he does not speak or little, speaks of itself as more he talk of others. This is the disease of society and someone always wants to add, look sorry but do not know him. And yes it was man lived by marginality, that’s how I see all beings who surrender and never fight for life, by way of putting on the sidelines or be on the edge of a river in that anything floats. It was thus that the writer’s café, where their pain if a change was never returned. I mean, it looked like he cut in the accounts, was who on it read and a point, a tale, a story invented a word heard, in writing by many many letters, formed many words. In conclusion he wanted but once again did not want to, this is how I see the writing or the poet who expresses wants and does not want to, this is either everything and wants nothing, one pulls the other ties and it is released, the ink that they saw that he wrote in his notebook that nobody was reading, and he sang, listened, wroteas if there was nothing else. 

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