Day rotten. Not want to move forward. As usual, I'm standing with my helmet on his head screwed me distills Infected Mushroom: Becoming Insane . Pretty good summary. Behind me, a dog barks. A small dog, others would consider cute. One-legged bastard if you ask me. And two seats away, there's the little old lady who forgets. Feeling the decaying corpse, so early, in itself, is a performance. The 89 passes Jussieu before reassembling the rue du Cardinal Lemoine. It's cold. Inwardly, I was jubilant. They do not know it yet, obviously. They are not aware that soon they will be freed. Freed from the other, the other dog, odors, this constant flow of people gather, morons of sleep and dark thoughts.
But we will still get a wrong idea about me. One can imagine that I hate everyone. Wrong. I love so much humanity that it hurts. To see her struggling miserably in trying to survive day by day. See the tear, mutilate, starve daily, it's a real torture. The nasty little secret of humanity, now are the buttons. Add a button or trigger to someone and you can be sure that an almost unhealthy curiosity, he pressed. To see. Like
humanity. And yet, it's not easy every day. If you knew how I did not want to be condescending with the perfect idiot who likes to challenge me look. If he knew. If realized, after all, just love. A vague scalp accompanied by his band of revelers had summed it nearly 2000 years ago. Theoretically, awesome ; Ideologically unassailable; virtually: impossible.
A mother and son have just risen to stop Henry IV. It must be 6 years old. He did not even realize this. Without doubt, moreover, he already began to hate his neighbor. Little Thomas who refused to give him the swing when it was already over for 10 minutes at recess. He who should be innocent, love and empathy. Unfortunately, when one sees his mother crippled by all kinds of ticks, it is clear that it did not seem to be a model of openness and growth. But do not worry little, you too will be released. Soon.
" Insane, insane, insane, insane, all [...] Becoming insane "
The volume thoroughly j'importune a little lady next to me. It is clearly not sensitive to electronic music. Do not worry ma'am, I go down to the next station. Behind me, the Pug is still barking. Hey, this reminds me of a verse holorime Hugo. Or Musset.
Pendulum: The Other Side . "Come on down to The Other Side, come with us The Gates of Hell on thought, We Will Drag You From Where You Are to Where You Belong . "One could make a song that is more than circumstance.
The bus passes the Saint-Etienne du Mont, along the Bibliotheque Sainte-Genevieve, beyond the facade of the Pantheon, and engaged in street Soufflot. " The ship is coming down, The ship is coming, The Ship is coming down, coming down , coming down .
We arrive at the stop Soufflot. The small herd is raised, ready to board a bus crowded already. As they are right. Go, go, you soon shall know the saving revelation!
The bus doors open. A stream rushes through the front door. Others are waiting in the back that some passengers get off. They know it's forbidden. They know that the driver will simply press gently on a small button that will trigger a recorded message. Point. I leave the bus. Perhaps in my haste I dropped a small switch. And forgot my bag. Really, I did not head this morning.
I Soufflot up the street. The cold incisive took me directly. I went up the collar of my overcoat. I'm shot. I like that. Behind me you can hear the barking a dog, a few conversations indistinct, and the announcement broadcast for free riders, "N ou remember that you must mount in front of ... . Noise of the explosion, the sentence shall remain in abeyance. Around me fell violently the charred remains of the bus 89. Say it has enough of a button, again. But they, at least, are released. Finally.
In my ears, Pendulum is still singing.
" We Will Drag You from Where You Are to Where You Belong "
Yes, really, it's a great day!
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