It happens that these pages only come to be when I am alone and intoxicated. That's why I only post so often.
And that's also why I do not author them, it is the Gods.
As with any Revelation I do not feel I can improve, alter or rephrase. So it is just a diary, or, more accurately, a vomit that lays just as it splashed the ground.
Saturday 24 November 2012
To Antonio Alfaro Sanchez
...
And I remember quiet evenings
Trembling close to you
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