There is a moment in life when you intuit that you are no longer all that is left ahead of you, but that you begin to wonder if you are not all that is left behind . And what behind: a so-called Cartapacio in which you have been accumulating cramps, sunrises, scabs, furrows, hangovers, press clippings and blood oaths. They add up so much, they occupy such space, that you end up sending everything to the storage room for not sending everything to the shit . And there you go down from time to time. To carry another shipment of re

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