Como sempre se acha textos antigos, provavelmente escritos depois de muito álcool...


You are Scarlett, and you don't know. You feel sad.
I don't know why am I here.
Senso de humor: vou tentar imaginar onde foi parar o whisky.
And there we find each other.
Shit.
And then we find one another.
Hilarious.
And besides I always seem to see her there, Scarlett is closest to the other, fisically.
And she is fucking intelligent.
And she is fucking beautiful.
Sexy. A little bit uncomfortable with the situation. Just like me.

But...

Tomorrow, friday. I won't be at classroom at the right time. And I don't give a fuck, 'cause there are more things to do than to come out to class.

And there is lying Scarlett quiet on her bed. Upset.
There am I.
The worst way to get in touch with her.
Fuck.
Stupid japanese.
Having fun? So, so...
He love her. Lier.
She's the other slimmer.

Smile, girls.
Scarlett is Charlotte,
Bill is Bob Harris,
and you smoke.

I don't.

*

Too bad. Too late.
I love you.
Quem estou enganando?

Monte Fuji.
Fuck you Dexter. So funny.
Terrible, me & the whisky.

I do remember. The first time we met, on the lift.

John doesn't know who you are.
Fred doesn't know who you are.
You don't know who you are.

But I know.