Non è mai chiaro, cammina vestito di una nuvola informe che agguanta persone, oggetti e parole. Si crede stupido, ma non lo pensa anche se rimane distratto per almeno un secondo in più, così perché gli fa piacere. Guarda un po' a terra when there is nothing else to serve them around at that time. On its way lance pieces of his head on the road, then thinks better of it and go back to take them back. Or maybe not, so occasionally see strange pieces of moldy head by the roadside. The sun is hot, he is a bit awkward to pull out of the mouth worlds entered his mind and disorderly. Side panels, borders books, borders of sidewalks that do not fit together. Look down from a railing, everything is quiet, but it is too high. Hands in his pockets, perhaps to beg smiles and tender while returning to dirty the roads.
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