going to rain. Going to rain soon. Going to rain. I repeat over and over again, like a mantra, like a spell or perhaps as an incentive. Should it rain.
play against me they predicted rain. And we all know that the climate does not like to agree with what meteorologists predict Argentine.
play against me, too, which is Friday. My mantra is seen by the angry eyes of the office. They want a weekend devoid of rain. There
them postponement of happiness until the weekend, needing everything to be perfect in it. There
them with his careless conception of perfection that leaves out the rain. There
them with his delusion that in the end Night stop yawning. There
them with pleasurable pain that represent you on Monday, as hypochondriacs always basking in a new disease. There
them. Because
going to rain. Going to rain soon. Going to rain cats and dogs. The Flood, a bean. Going to rain and rain and rain. There
them in their homes, looking through the window. At the same will be reflected, divided between the inside and the outside. And in that reflection you will see your yawn. See this parasite that is yawning. You will see that it has conquered the whole of who they are. That has engulfed their interests, their curiosities, their concerns, their virtues.
Will be a big yawn as reflected in the window of a studio on a rainy Saturday. And I will be there in the street, dancing in the rain. There is nothing more effective in counteracting the parasite of yawning to dance in the rain.
going to rain. Going to rain soon. I repeat it over and over again, like a mantra, like a spell or perhaps as an incentive. Should it rain.
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