My HeyDay

Sometimes I think it is my mission to bring faith to the faithless, and doubt to the faithful


English Breakfast. Beans. No time, but no rush. Don't stop if you feel the beat, the feeling of being a Londoner. You should walk, no questions. Walk to the next station: Korean food, The Guardian, Indians, Pakis, SouthAfricans, whatever more,... And all they shout: learn English, kiddo!

Primrose Hill Park. All London at your feet. Just they playing with the ball, like children... like one of us. And we look at them, and talk about sex. BBQ in the garden of the pub: just 5 pounds for a beef burger. Mireia is wondering: why do those fuck**g Britons need to get drunk to fuck? 'Brazilians do it better', just my answer to that. She agreed. And I felt the real London in my veins. Or maybe two paints of ale. And I ran to that feeling, as if my body was producing dopamine on its own. It's happiness, dude, don't worry, you're one of us now. Join the party. And the music never stopped, six hours, more and more. Passions and wake-ups. New people, new faces, and maybe a new city to add to my soul.

Drive boy dog boy dirty numb angel boy
In the doorway boy she was a lipstick boy
She was a beautiful boy and tears boy
And all in your innerspace boy you had
Hands girl boy and steel boy you had
Chemicals boy Ive grown so close to you
Boy and you just groan boy she said
Comeover comeover she smiled at you boy.


3 Responses to “”

  1. # Anonymous changolin

    tu dopamina me está resultando irritante!!!! (grrrrr) odio que te lo pases bien sin mi....  

  2. # Blogger Alex Guerrero

    No creas, en realidad me salto los trozos aburridos. Prometo actualizar hoy!!!  

  3. # Anonymous Anonymous

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