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Curbstone

08/03/2013

Curbstone

We wonder around in a gang until the middle of the night and sit down in front of a pub on a curbstone in the old city alleys, underneath one of the buildings. We are seeking to reach that particular moment at night that you cannot say goodbye to. Once you reach that moment you can truly separate, each to his own way, and go to sleep full of happiness. When a river of orange purple Sangria will flood the city and cover it all, we shall know that we have had the privilege of getting to know one of the curbstones from close. We sat there with our legs spread out and spoke words of truth, at least as far as intention is concerned, at least as far as the urge to speak is concerned, the urge to prevent all this from stopping.

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From → On the Road

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