Last night, for how manyth of times, I found myself in altera parte limitis rationis, this time in the ever expanding space of dissociations, and, as one with some experience might expect, I have not the slightest of clues, if I'm coming back, really. But I'm here, alright. (No, actually, not here, but still - alright.)
By the way, do you know a man called "Y"? I was just wondering... maybe he could sort things out?
1 comment:
There's no *monettako kertaa* in English, - so we have to butt fuck her with *how manyth* 'till she comes to acknowledge... that there's a a stinking hole in her in an urgent need for a fix for incontinence.
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