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Almost 2 weeks in Paris suburbia.

Tears, tears all over… Cried in front of my best friend, couldn’t stop.

Saturday I’ve painted again. Oh so good.

Thom Yorke on TV, on stage. Why does this guy touch me so much?

Yesterday I screamed with every single tracks of OK Computer. Night. Candle. This is my strong medicine…

I want to live like an Indian. This is the image of heaven…

I want to be me. Everything I can be, have to be.

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