It is a strange sort of pain "to die of yearning for something you'll never experience"

Sunday, August 17, 2003

You left me at 4 pm today.
Sorry, but I’m not sure I’m gonna miss you.
And I’m neither sure if I wanna even try to...
I think I’ll better keep the memory, even though I know I wouldn’t check it much…
Immaculate dream….that’s what I want…you don’t serve it here, right chef?
Clarissa, let’s go…they don’t serve it here…
Do you feel like nightlife tonight Clarissa?
Do you need some air?
Here you are my dearest host, ain’t it like a déjà vu Clarissa?
You've heard this before, right?

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