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VOICE VOICE IN PHASE-in counter
burns like a slap in the face or a kiss just given, this perspective-standing film in which the views of others becomes yours, or you become the point of view others. be dressed as the grandmother or the store, it seems that face extreme difference be able to immerse themselves in the shoes of others, quiet and infused with a kind of sense of the sacred. a person's eyes are his most sense and therefore agencies to give respect. not so the brain and the heart that are known the subject of rape, technique and study formalisms, rather than free expression.
no music may be interested except that I feel, is the only thing that changes me, and differs from all others for which I feel love, while a good sense of powerlessness on the facts of which I am a witness to sign pacts of non-intervention. a sense of possibility is not dead and buried with wine, cigarettes and mobile phone, a status symbol of a lifestyle that is not mine.
(screaming from upstairs)
hours should I force myself to give this a cinematic perspective or outline for voices, faces a sintomaticità as ideas, classes and generations. but the faces are white, not even the lineaments subjective that I give.
I took a HUGE hit on the head
at this point a voice that is not no one had said 'you too will die one day', and I am sure that someone has said that I missed. I give the ear, because I think it's worth, because the dogs bite until they forget that the queue is ecstatic that they have in their mouth is, I also ride on the same concepts and perspective silent cinema, cafes and abusatissimo bullet time, not to mention the fact that the modern variety that I use on myself does not help me to keep my head straight in front of someone or something, or at least next to the faces of the people and the words incomprehensible to me why the result to another story and another age, beyond the stairs.
within each of us is a little baby bug in need of affection.
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