day 85

reload the gun,
but you'll run out of bullets to fight me.

don't reproach the postman,
I ran out of letters to write.

repeat the motion,
we're too tired to go on.

If you write 'FUCK' a thousand times,
I reply with ONE 'FUCK' - the rest's just excessive.

no, don't wake up as if it's a dream: the dream's just starting
Pessoa: (Do I know more about God than God knows about himself?)
Ah, you hit a soft spot, a vital point and all it took was not the gun, it's a speech bubble.

And all the rest, I repeat, And all the rest, are excessive ---

without which I wouldn't be here, alive and crying.