“ten months? with such a cold person like you? i must have been dead from the beginning, he must be a great one.” another proof? told by a friend, that looks more like a heap of pills for me. scraping kitsch metallic green and ugly violet nail polish off my fingers. biting fingernails. sipping iced jasmine tea with a whit of kiwi lingers on those papillae. inhale worms, exhale butterflies. from now on, i assume that every questions are rhetorical.