When you open the document. The file. Your inner self. You find a satisfaction, a comfort you long for when you're out having almond liquor on Praca Camoes in a too late evening, and maybe you have to leave, just to remain sane.
You're keeping hairpins in Smarties-cartons, you're walking around with boots inside, you turn your bedroom upside down because surfaces bore you.
And maybe you even write blog entries without any structure. Because you don't even read it before you submit it, just like your thoughts in daily life.
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