Matula Herbal Formula™

Chapter IV

Poor dog. I'm not a poor dog. There's a poor dog on a terrace that day by day ago around the same along the wall without seeing each other. Around him, day after day, its accumulating feces, urine, and its decorative design of orographic ecstatic abandon.
I had a lot of work since I arrived in Barcelona for nine days.
Today I had the time to attack the pins with a city map on one of the three plates of cork on the wall. The blank slate suggests that I am at the beginning of an adventure to fill.
I had never lived with the seagulls. Without night for laughing gulls are on file with organizing into gutters. The first part in a solo and his companions are in addition to the waterfall. On the night can terrorize a sound so sinister. It 's the sound of those clowns who won the children fishing Swan, at the carnival. These clowns with the head of hard rubber, and sponge the body of the dress of shimmering red oil house in the belly of a box that evil laughter inhuman guttural croaks and mechanics.
The view from my room is a lush forest of antennas, which is dominated by a crane. When the seagulls perched on the crane I wonder if the crane including the irony.
arrived the night on the streets of the garbage men come to their moment of glory. With big water pipes from the garbage and sweep the streets cleared the wreckage humans.
Prostitutes model jump in and outside the bar, not knowing whether to smoke or whether to stay dry.
I deal with seasoned financial products while in the air of this room, the spores multiply in the greasy summer heat. Often the black dog remains stationary for hours in the sun, lying with its nose between legs outstretched. Through the camera lens I see that has a wound above the eye, is a fighting dog for this evening sometimes disappears. A gull hovers
left foot on the ledge in front of the palace, crying for help to the right and left, threatening to commit suicide. Suddenly he realizes that only a seagull and fly away. Try to realize I'm just a gull, but suddenly I realize it's late and I have to deliver. When
then jump to grab the beam on the terrace of the hoist the dog jumped over the railing and barks at me from afar. I thought that turbulence in the air would do him good. Indeed, it seems excited, wants to join me. The Seagull throws a look at the dog, without compassion.
the market sell me a shiny plastic box with the word "rocket." When I get home and open it I find in just weed, chicken fillet nell'incarto startled for a moment and then breaks into tears and inconsolable without restraint.
I'm a bad son and also risk to let dying my name