I SIT UP AND I HEAR SOMEONE MOAN. I SEE A BUG IN THE CORNER, BUT I KNOW IT'S NOT THERE. THE WALLS CLOSE IN AND EXPAND THEY CLOSE IN AND EXPAND AND I CAN HEAR THEM. I COVER MY EARS BUT IT'S NOT ENOUGH. I STAND. I LOOK AROUND ME. I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. WHERE I AM, WHY, WHAT HAPPENED, HOW TO ESCAPE. MY NAME, MY LIFE. I CURL UP ON THE FLOOR AND I AM CRUSHED BY IMAGES AND SOUNDS. THINGS I HAVE NEVER SEEN OR HEARD OR EVER KNEW EXISTED. THEY COME FROM THE CEILING, THE DOOR, THE WINDOW, THE DESK, THE CHAIR, THE BED, THE CLOSET. THEY'RE COMING FROM THE FUCKING CLOSET. DARK SHADOWS AND BRIGHT LIGHTS AND FLASHES OF BLUE AND YELLOW AND RED AS DEEP AS THE RED OF MY BLOOD. THEY MOVE TOWARD ME AND THEY SCREAM AT ME AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE BUT I KNOW THEY'RE HELPING THE BUGS. THEY'RE SCREAMING AT ME.
CHI VUOL ESSERE MILIARDARIO? O FRADE DIRIA QUE COMPENSA, CADA ESTILHAÇO.
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CI SIAMO QUATTRO. E LEGGIAMO ASSOLUTAMENTE TUTTO. DOPO TRE O QUATTRO MESI. E CINQUE O SEI BICCHIERI. DI VELENO.