domingo, 27 de diciembre de 2009

Two hours trying to find what to wear so that you would look at me and say to yourself: She's it. So I smoke a hole package of 20 cigarettes 'cause I can't control my nerves, i'm about to see you. I enter the place and go to the middle of it, start dancing and act as if I didn't care you were there, then I see you through other faces in the middle of colorful flashlights. Hours pass and when I walk out the door to go back home I realise how stupid you are, and the much woman I am to you.

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