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 Somebody stumbled on the icy pavement and hit his head. 

Or maybe something hit him on his head and then he fell, I couldn’t see.

A block of ice? A coconut? 

Bitch don’t kill my vibe. 



A voice said: "Please!" and shook an empty paper cup. 

The supernova-hunter said something really bad happened in the Andromeda Nebula galaxy, but he doesn't know exactly what. 

He said they were going to send a research group to the wound, but that it's probably too late,

because what reaches our eyes now actually happened many years ago.



Water, black magic plastic.

Can anybody explain why there are people sleeping in the street?

And what is the purpose of having six thousand languages on one planet?

The thoughts you pass on bend inside my head, and my jaws shut like closing doors. 



What he meant to say was:

«My hair must be cut, there’s no way around it, and it will take some money». It’s hard out here for a bitch.

According to the news, there are more deaths caused by falling coconuts than by sharks annually.

Timing is everything. Lazy afternoon, was that really the news? I'm exhausted.



I guess I’ll just lean back, receiving, thinking of everything I want to do.

I’m like a child in the sand on the beach of the land of you.

And it's like dreaming, what meaning? 

Dragging me back to the ocean, everything open.







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