clocks says i need to sleep (i can't even count the hours as i have a ZZZ on the date) so i guess i'll review the text later. i gotta stop doing these one sitting blocks and correct my grammar before posting (i'll never do that) (but i do correct my stuff later on, if you ever re-read something here)

when i stopped seeing friends because of veganism, at some point i had to deal with the fact i lost my contacts to get dealers. i never smoked alone much and the smallest quantities i could buy lasted a long time with me. funny to think what was enough for months didn't even made to the sunrise when that crew was together. the role i liked the most was to bring to life irresponsive beings with too much THC. i wished i could remember what i said to Giovanna's brother (he was part of another, unrelated, group) when he got desperate out of his perception slowing down to slow frames. he rolled great that night but i can't remember what we did. but i do remember when we laid at the roof watching clouds to skip 2 classes. i wonder if you really meant it when Giovanna wasn't my type. her expensive shoes would fit on reaching the nearest guetto to buy weed and her female voice would fit a voice's climbing into their group to ask a rolling paper and her beauty would fit a circle of people smoking what they just sold us. there was a guy who rapped. i questioned the ethics of selling adulterated stuff, i questioned myself as an user. confuse was to hear from them that the most ethical step i could make about all that injustice (the police is super nasty with them, holy guacamole) was actually to not buy drugs, this way i wouldn't be financing it. and that day we managed to roll a little party right on the street they were selling stuff. i wished i had the video they took from me trying some new dance steps while maintaining a minutes long equilibrium only on one feet. i'm still the same socially akward guy who died by being dragged to play Just Dance or when Caio proposed a tango class on that spanish-unintelligible speaking city that everything needed money to be. i decided to not dance on Sorina's party because the only thing i could think was how to get rid of the feeling of that friendly cineast that soon would return to German to speak strange langs with treir strange lang speaking people and i would be somewhere else. i found uterly disgusting your boyfriend coming downstairs to check what we were doing (Sorina was opening the apartment door so i could go somewhere like that charming neighbor that has rivers instead of streets or wonder in disgust on how miserable is to be poor in big cities... all you can do is walk and walk and find free museums and free cultural stuff and try to get embedded into the local culture be it by being poor somewhere and being invited to stay at their family's house or to try your luck being who you are, akward or not. humans are so inviting little sister). and despite the closing brackets (i wish i could say something out of my nerves that moment like i think she isn't your doll? and steal you forever but excuse me Sorina (if you ever read this too, my notification on your Instagram wasn't on purpose BTW) if i got the stuff wrong). little sister not the one who i barely relate because she's the jeep that go through every small talk and parties that i don't belong to or how noob you were by stealing our parent's car and crashing on a bus. i'm typing to a little sister who probably don't dance to channel this weird non-wired-to-social-and-ephemeral-feelings of social settings. because if i could send you a letter right now, if your friends only get together to drink because they are probably those early adults that didn't figured out the addictive oriented behavior (little blood sister, that also is for you), i would skip this type of artclass because i couldn't see myself belonging to a group who smokes for smoking or using drugs for the drug if i not do it too however: i would cry for another paragraph in a specimen of still over exposing myself, reflecting on old group friends but i guess i have to succumb into the solving-pit of dealing with this tool: the blog points to thousand viewers (subtracting from my guess of scrapper solely) and not a freaking soul came to chat or e-mail me. i must adjust my helm to the endeavors of clouds and be open to what insects and birds will transmit and do the electronic work life and the yellow triangles and Ilha Grande hiking paths transmitted

little sister aren't you reflecting back too much on this christian-type of lore on being the oldest sister of a group of people who love bounds the edge of the infinitude meanwhile the core concept of our social brain chemistry being tied to acting and beneffiting from acting pro-socially like green-tea and old uncles at the bus and the rich riding taxis each doing their thing under the forgotten origin of the asphalt that were first developed for bicycles and now feeds what cyclists fear the most: people with too much freedom of movement

big sis., i know you don't like receiving music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeVF_jSnAjA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlm_SIw2YnI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FXhhXyov70
https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=d_whJZYGmsI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOACtsrSsgo