Intro. I hate my boss. And to group therapy. I was forced to leave because they say I am "self-destructive." As if I didn't know. Yes, I understand things. Yes, I launch what moves. AND? Last night I said a phrase about an Abba vinyl and I wrote to my ex that his sister is a better kisser. Mental health? That one died in 2011.
The height almost hit her with a paparazzi while the mother lay out the window. And now he was there, in a circle of people crying about things he fixed with dust and whiskey. Then he entered . With hood. And just listening to it, I couldn't stand it.
—Oh, please...
I lowered the hood. Everyone looked at me.
—Abure is crying because they didn't give him the mint color. She is the daughter of the casino owner. He comes to suffer because the maid put ice in the matcha.
The group remained silent. It became slow.
—You? Tom Kaulitz? Don't you get it with the groupies and Perico? I'm sure you're so lost that you were even with your twin.
The therapist almost made a fool of herself. He shouted that this was a space