Índice para folhear

There’s everything in here. There’s no accuracy and the gasoline is low. It’s a copy of a copy of a copy. And when the machine is broken, or out of ink, there’s nothing to do, is like the sun rises. Sometimes filled with clouds. Anyway, life goes on.

Below is the whole sheet that was written. It’s a list that grows and updates by itself. A faded trail of a golden age that flickered out into celluloid ashes phantasms fantastic.