Eat Skin Of Dried Salami

Vaga ~

I'm here, bored in front of my duties of literature and computer screen. From the speakers sounds of James Blunt Wise Men, and hours go by soooo slowly, like grains of sand falling clock.

A grain ...

One grain ...

One grain ...

Tic ...

Tac ...

Tic ...

Tac ...

And then, I decide to avoid a little, and give a "Create New Entry." I let my fingers walk alone, it matters little what I say or what they can tell.

simply let the keyboard sounds on the tips of my fingers, like the ticking of a clock. Clack, clack, clack, click ... The click it has the space you've always wanted to be very original ...

bored yawn.

is one of those evenings when you feel that nothing worth getting off the couch, even though you know you have miiiiiles of things to do.

A day without boredom ... A boring day ... Another day ...

I just finished making the task of English, and life is costing me to copy a picture of stanzas of language ...

I said, the evening wanders ...

I started writing this with the intention to do so poetic ... Proof that my fingers are those move alone is that it does not look like a poetic prose.

Today on Sunday, a quarter to nine in the evening ...

Uf ... I did not know it was so late ... That depresses me more ...

Only one thing I hate more than on Monday, and Sunday, because it is the end of the weekend, the best of the life of a student. Two and a half days to do what you damn well please ... But come Sunday, and whoooole is hump!

hate Sundays ...

hate laziness ...

hate not knowing what else to say ...

The ticking continues playing in the background ...

Tic ...

Tac ...