je prens la petite soeur
there are no more secrets to reveal. we are living in and suffering from our own boredom. riddled with alarm clocks and cancer to get us out of bed and to work. we've got to move these microwave ovens. watching bill hicks reruns, bill murray reruns, bill clinton reruns. we are allowed to do a little more with our little less, but i do not need a pretext to do nothing. i am so lazy.
there is nothing to do. all directions exhausted. without all this nothing, without the great expanse, where would everything be?