I'm sick, yes, I'm not well and everyone is bored. I wish that you respect my wish to be alone in times such as this. Respect is all I want. I'm tired, tired of the human race. I live in the age of a hermit and I want to stay back in the world.
is a dream. The phone rings, I do not answer. I must buy this kind of stupidity that I am highly tobacco dependent. I dig through my drawers and found a packet of tobacco brought from Tunisia. Looks like pipe tobacco. I heated a ball of hashish and pulls smoke.
Here I am in paradise for drug addicts. Whatever. I feel good while thinking of those trapped in transit, slave labor, to computers, the zombies cities. Finally, solitude is good. I would have to assert myself a little more.
I crush my joint, want to finish writing my book about my life as a paranoid schizophrenic. Envy finished my first drawing that you have in one corner, the first in a long series. No courage, no strength, no laziness, no. I rekindled another seal and means "Tell not your life" in this music.
I leave you to your concerns while I'm off to my business.
Yours.
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