Does it work?

-I forgot every inch of love any man have ever gave me
- Why?
- Maybe it's a matter of consumption. The memories were re-used so many times they have just washed away. Now I'm empty, not ready for anything. Pale as invoice paper. Cramped. But I am.
(...)
- You know what? They all wanna call it "art". These silly tumblr pictures. Or a big underground projects of young rebels. I'm confused. I have nothning to do with them. Fuck, I have nothing to do here, that's true. I should have found some UFO jet and flown away many years ago. But now... Nothing more. Only wake up, eat, go, return, read, listen to, talk, sleep. Whole idea of life.

" Dramatically spacious"