Anexo IX - Le amazzone del bidet. - DRAWINGS
Saturday, 9 October 2010
00:48
Yep, fiz isso essa noite [noite passada,actually] e já postei agora, mas tive a imagem de um dos vários momentos non sequitur do Jô Soares do O Homem que Matou Getúlio Vargas. Le amazzone del bidet, já explica. Mas a minha amazona era a Lady Godiva, inicialmente, só que, long story short: ew, ela ficar pelada no cavalo.

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Here is where I'm free. Free to write, free to think. I'm all by myself, all to myself. Only me.­­ ­I can shout my fucks and cry my Oh Gods. Look to my madness or say "who are you?" Today, I fell connected. Tomorrow, maybe not. Maybe I'm too worried with other things, someone is here with me. Maybe inspiration didn't hit me. My most important thoughts (to me) come to me when I'm far away from notepads and notebooks, but close to myself. That's what this is made of.
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We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and -- in spite of True Romance magazines -- we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely -- at least, not all the time -- but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness. — Hunter S. Thompson

the months passed by...

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