I went shopping with my father, who came to see me and proved to be very friendly while respecting the character of parent sixty paranoid and apprehensive and worried and anxious - all things to be fully justified by the behavior of fifteen beardless son - in order to comply with, me, my character only twenty-four infant spoiled and capricious and vain, or if you prefer simply girl, and I discovered that a fabric belt with metal buckle costs twenty Euros, which I think frankly meaningless, but is not the first time I marvel at this wonderful toy that is called capitalism, so I preferred waived, and buy the belt, as also a few moments before I had found a ten euro bill on the sidewalk, unprecedented wave of fortune in a day, however, no headaches, a novelty in this period, which makes me think that someone which looked divine has planned something terrible to my life over the next few days, and has given me this day of grace and freshness to delude myself that anything in life could go slightly, but this is all just respect the character of my boy cynical and nihilistic and paranoid, so even this would be preferable to defer.
defer to talk about something more interesting, despite my fees for the word interesting are alien to most of the world population. Shrinebuilder Sunday afternoon I listened and I am lost in a discussion that has exhausted the little package which is already enough of synapses for the Sunday afternoon, usually spent on intellectually not great as watching the wall, examining the wounds on my body now bears with increasing frequency and causes of which are not even remotely understand and listen to music at insane volumes to suppress that kind of buzz that could be a semblance of thought that tries to escape from my cerebral cortex, or any other party to form the thought in my fucking head. I think having to explain to fill your abysmal ignorance - the illusion that someone, other than two or three people who know about these things and so the explanation will be purely redundant, really read all this - which is a band composed of Shrinebuilder dale Crover, Scott Kelly, Al Cisneros and wino, or basically them
which is not too bold a metaphor is similar to Jesus, Allah, Vishnu and Buddha They decided to form a new religion, whose symbol is a crucifix with eight arms and lying under burka or any type of shrub willow under which Siddhartha had attained nirvana, and parallelism seems plausible, given that converge on this disc neurosis, some psychedelia à la om - and, ça va sans dire, we also feel the sleep and rather obscure for a reason I started thinking that if they were still between us sleep now sounds more or less so - the heaviness of the Melvins and the slowness of the seventy of vaguely doom saint vitus, however, to add some flavor imperceptibly southern stoner reminiscent of something in a few steps down - and then the religious symbol above for completeness we also include a symbol of any soul that I am not aware - and everything is harmonious and monolithic movingly - and those who do not understand, as I read somewhere, he complains of the lack of originality and mannerisms and lack of passion: I want exactly that from a disc like this, a culmination of all that this kind of music should be, not to mention that if he sings Scott Kelly may also be an album of Christmas songs, to me is fine the same.
tonight maybe attend a party at a local level, the retablo - where I went once and I was greeted by boys boys boys sabrina salerno, and I was on the verge of tears for that -, party hosted by a Pakistani with whom I follow the English course, a Pakistani who speaks little English and do not even have a slightest idea of \u200b\u200bCastilian, Catalan, the Basque, Galician or any other dialect spoken in the Iberian Peninsula, which could give an idea of \u200b\u200bthe level of my English course, dangerously close to a kindergarten where young Neapolitan between a cackle and another to turn their attention to Polish intelligent and brilliant as an ashtray, making me once more rely on expensive Vesuvius. I do not want to go to this party, but the flyer that was handed to me about a phantom dj that would, among other things, discs shoegazzing and posthardcare and are curious to know what kinds of it, since especially the last one reminds me of follow-up care model of colon cancer, or something, but all this is just arrogance the arrogance for which they are famous and why people love me, right?
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