7# Xp X(.VVVV ` jj|xV F*pF-FFpFFFFFFthe need of power the evening started off well, the car was waiting for us and so was the u-world. the gayDancefloor was poor but broken, the boulevard of broken dreams and dramas. the small chinese drugHead with the sharp and sweaty lines in his face. we had another beer and headed for the shiniest dancefloor in town, a well rotten, disturbed and peacful town, the city of manila. the music was hard but plastic, the bass hit the brains as hard as the goodby-farewell of your beloved girl, leaving you after two years fucking every time poss, the snatch hit you hard but yill forget about it now and forever. the rush was over after a few minutes. the show would continue in an hour, that left us enough time to visit the countryside at 100 mp/H hard on the borderline, no cocaine yet and none forever as is looked. the stars are all over tonight! yep! gona get the with death soon, or me heads gona burst, asshole. nope, it aint our lucky day today, as every day, middle class heroes, weak as a lady that seems to forget about her grandmother dying, but she brought her home with a ring around her fist. see this family on the table across the street? he walked over, gently smiling: good morning, may i ask you a question? the bald head, beer-belly dad and his groupies looked kind: yes, please sir, my dick is very close to burst, your little poppie is making me sick and hot, either way ill kill her right now or ill fuck her right here and now, whats your point? the bald-headFucker hit him right across his face and left the joint. from the airport to the danceFloor, hanging around, pissed, bored, looking for a kick. cocaine? no response, but he realy was a madMan, his one fist wrapped in toiletPaper, ready to hit every organism in his aera, he screamed desperatly: this is nothing for kids! and slaped my friend right across his big mouth, blood was draining down. his huge, glooming eyes, his bodyguards all around; maybe i am a giver, maybe i am a fool, but nothing in your eyes needs to hold me; then he hit me across my big mouth and we left. no luck-the need, the kick, the thrill we went for another beer and some weed, live was amusing, educating and torture-the easy thing, show me the way to the lord to shit, its over and i need you more than ever, just two lives holing on to each other, no future. a few beers and the street market started to pick up, there was nothing against heroin but we wanted cocaine. a fresh, young junkie led us to a trashMansion, a house of broken niggers and other importet organisms, wait on the second floor and he went of with the cash, forever. the day started bad and it seemd to end bad that is the situation, live is hard but exciting. one beer and we will be back on our two own feets. the blood was pouring, the faces were hardRed, 39 hours drinking, no speed, no telly, nothing but hardcore talking, conceptional speeches and the planing for the upcoming 40 years of our lives as also the next minutes in the standing rowe of time, THE YOUNGSTERS ARE A ENTIERLY SUPERIOR BREED, THE BREED OF A NEW GENERATION. ONE DAY THIS BREED WILL TAKE OVER ! ux{|22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222 die musik ist aus und ist immer noch da, es macht uns zu freunden, zu bekannten einer zeit, d V X j @  78Zac) x . / V 8 9  R S  T U V W X! ! ! ! ! ! ! %  X X T XX@P j X HH 04Adxhh d' EA.hB@H-:StyleWriter II GenevaCourier XPJ(