I do not could be here, even if you are so small would not fit in anywhere, you hit the walls. When I think of that I get to mourn, Horacio not understand, think I'm bad, I do not get you wrong, but I know you will not last long. Nobody holds a lot of time here, not even you and I have to live combat, it is the law, the only way worth but it hurts, Rocamadour, and is dirty and bitter, you would not like, you sometimes you see the lambs in the field, or you hear the birds standing on the vane of the house. Horacio is sentimental to me, I is materialistic, is all because I do not bring or because I want to bring, because I quit, because I want to come see you, because suddenly I realize I can not go, because I am able to walk an hour under water if in a neighborhood that does not know spend Potemkin and must see the world while falling, Rocamadour, because the world does not matter if you do not have the strength to continue to choose something true, if one is arranged as a drawer the comfortable and puts you on one side, on Sunday the other, the love of the mother, the new toy, the Gare de Montparnasse, the train, the visit must be done. I do not feel like going, Rocamadour, and you know is right and you're not sad. Horace is right, I do not care anything about you sometimes, and I think that you'll thank me one day when you realize, when you see it was worth my being as I am. But I cry the same, Rocamadour, I am wrong, because maybe I'm wrong or sick or just stupid, not much, a bit but that is terrible, the very idea gives me cramps, I have fully engaged to the fingers in feet, the shoes I will explode if I take them out, and I love you both, Rocamadour, Rocamadour baby, little tooth of garlic, I love you both, nose, sugar, tree, toy horse ...
Rayuela, chap. 32
Payenne Rue. Paris III
Mouffettard Rue. Paris V
Place Stravinsky. Paris IV
Notre Dame. Paris IV
Place des Vosges. Paris IV
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