Question
What fucking time is it? Why laugh stupidly, why be
annoying, why type messages, why die every second
like this? Why did I understand, why am I free, why does this
message have an end? Doesn’t love always have the last word,
as in those wonderful American productions? It’s nothing, again
and always nothing, and I will never finish being silent; I will never finish
being silent. Tonight I’m going dancing at the Copacabana, and then I’ll die
of an overdose in another f** club. I haven’t understood, I haven’t
understood, I haven’t understood, I haven’t understood. Cold blood in my
veins, I type, I type. I type. God will repay me. Impossible is
not Irish. Well, there, there, there, there.
Lucie
Answer from Master Kosen
Why didn’t you come practice with me this summer?
Kosen