quarta-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2012


'Looking down at my shiny, dirty trousers that haven't been chamged in months, the days gliding by, strung on a syringe with a long thread of blood... it is easy to forget sex and drink and all the sharp pleasures of the body in this Limbo of negative pleasure, this thick cocoon of comfort'

- William S. Burroughs

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