Saturday, November 29, 2008
The Meaning Of Tender Breasts
The snow was so beautiful, a little girl while her mother was sleeping down below in the courtyard of the house where he lived before.
Barefoot jumped into those inches soft and cool, everything was silent, she was alone and all that immaculate whiteness, his footsteps were the first, his feet were purple from the cold, frozen but prevalicavano eyes on that feeling, the moon lit up everything and she watched as her hands they were so white in that light.
branches heavy with staggered under the weight of whiteness.
Snow, was not the first violta he saw her, but did not remember so shiny you can resume immediately at hand.
She was glad, she was a queen, small but reliable enough to be the only, only at that moment he walked for the first time on that soft mantle.
A feeling of comfort, power and control that he had never felt in the handful of years as a child silly and shy.
also swore that he saw un'uccellino fly away, break into the landscape of branches, shortly after he saw the small triangular footprints that abruptly interrupted.
Now she was alone no more pain, No more troubles and hardships, only the white expanse that had become his little kingdom and hidden ...
Thursday, November 27, 2008
How To Congratualte New Baby
The purity of a moment ...
X, "takes away those ugly wires cocks bitch at times stumbling"
XX: "do not break are a mentally ill"
X "that you want to see them tear?"
XX: "Want to see who'll cut the plug on the TV with the scissors?"
< silenzio
< risata >
XXX: "Look what a beautiful bracelet that I found on the ground"
X: "Where?"
XXX "I gave it to X"
< X sposta il braccio sotto al tavolo mentre inforca un'altro pò di pasta" >
XX: "Well I do not care"
You may very well be close yet far away, too far away, so that even the smallest action becomes the drama themselves.
Centered in the words, movements and looks.
And then you try a lot of envy for those who succeed in the world does more. Even
nell'inforcare some pasta.
But when you see the dark, when you can turn off your brain, heart and everything around you, you're terrible.
But it does not matter if you take the car and get more miles in a crash of a thread of compassion should always be there.
And now I have a nervous sounding so much that the head of the dance the tango, "to fire all the rest," one blaze high and royal drink enough to turn everything in coal, that warms you inside to the bone .
It makes no sense physical, but metaphysical, meaning those who do not sleep at night when the rest of the world is spinning fast and you're the only idiot who is there to stop them and still listen to the words that never come, because this time has been reached ' and yet another failed spell.
X, "takes away those ugly wires cocks bitch at times stumbling"
XX: "do not break are a mentally ill"
X "that you want to see them tear?"
XX: "Want to see who'll cut the plug on the TV with the scissors?"
< silenzio
< risata >
XXX: "Look what a beautiful bracelet that I found on the ground"
X: "Where?"
XXX "I gave it to X"
< X sposta il braccio sotto al tavolo mentre inforca un'altro pò di pasta" >
XX: "Well I do not care"
You may very well be close yet far away, too far away, so that even the smallest action becomes the drama themselves.
Centered in the words, movements and looks.
And then you try a lot of envy for those who succeed in the world does more. Even
nell'inforcare some pasta.
But when you see the dark, when you can turn off your brain, heart and everything around you, you're terrible.
But it does not matter if you take the car and get more miles in a crash of a thread of compassion should always be there.
And now I have a nervous sounding so much that the head of the dance the tango, "to fire all the rest," one blaze high and royal drink enough to turn everything in coal, that warms you inside to the bone .
It makes no sense physical, but metaphysical, meaning those who do not sleep at night when the rest of the world is spinning fast and you're the only idiot who is there to stop them and still listen to the words that never come, because this time has been reached ' and yet another failed spell.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Bangalore Telephone Directory Airtel
death of a poet
Post, you make a post, write, and clik clak ... how to lose unnecessary time while the world revolves around you and you are stopped.
A passerby is collecting the tissue that has just fallen, does the teacher of cultural anthropology. Once
regained normal vision, he falls silent, bleaching and observes those arches so soft and family.
is visibly shaken, he is a cold sweat, so all lanky, he can not well understand why, but those arches remind him of something beautiful.
the middle of them there are two glyphs of colored glass tile, and greyed by the weather.
Now remember something, the thin line that rose to remind the beauty of that moment frozen in his head and warmed by the aged brandy. She
bounce in the head, playing football, a sport which does not follow either, but his approach well suits the stupid and useless.
Remember this face that has never been able fondles herself, crystal clear, with a disarming purity.
had come to an inch from it, felt the scent of youth slowly was fading, the color of those roses made him fall unconscious in emotion, almost disarming. He had been
whole minutes in silence to listen to the harmony that his brain was composing.
A bit like when they play violins, was spoiled for choice but the tantrums were just fine. A pigeon
distracts his attention, reminding him that lesson in a few hours there.
Damn, it really is damned by his thoughts, Jesus indicted as a perfect, free, and enchanted by his fate.
But nothing can dispel the thought that bounces on his head for months.
Before falling asleep also had thought of taking a nice valium or something like that, but you lived in the sixty-eight also means you have taken to heart too much. When he walked
the air was shaken, thrilled by its scent, and his sway was stumbling even more the brain. Bella
so nice to give her his heart in the meal, but then he also wanted to admit to himself that he was alive and this was the only thing that really mattered.
least fifteen years have passed since the last time it looked as arches, now an incurable disease forced him into bed, between those sheets that do not have that smell, that does not have that form, that light that does not have prepositions.
It's called love die, to die for a beautiful woman who is called music ...
Post, you make a post, write, and clik clak ... how to lose unnecessary time while the world revolves around you and you are stopped.
A passerby is collecting the tissue that has just fallen, does the teacher of cultural anthropology. Once
regained normal vision, he falls silent, bleaching and observes those arches so soft and family.
is visibly shaken, he is a cold sweat, so all lanky, he can not well understand why, but those arches remind him of something beautiful.
the middle of them there are two glyphs of colored glass tile, and greyed by the weather.
Now remember something, the thin line that rose to remind the beauty of that moment frozen in his head and warmed by the aged brandy. She
bounce in the head, playing football, a sport which does not follow either, but his approach well suits the stupid and useless.
Remember this face that has never been able fondles herself, crystal clear, with a disarming purity.
had come to an inch from it, felt the scent of youth slowly was fading, the color of those roses made him fall unconscious in emotion, almost disarming. He had been
whole minutes in silence to listen to the harmony that his brain was composing.
A bit like when they play violins, was spoiled for choice but the tantrums were just fine. A pigeon
distracts his attention, reminding him that lesson in a few hours there.
Damn, it really is damned by his thoughts, Jesus indicted as a perfect, free, and enchanted by his fate.
But nothing can dispel the thought that bounces on his head for months.
Before falling asleep also had thought of taking a nice valium or something like that, but you lived in the sixty-eight also means you have taken to heart too much. When he walked
the air was shaken, thrilled by its scent, and his sway was stumbling even more the brain. Bella
so nice to give her his heart in the meal, but then he also wanted to admit to himself that he was alive and this was the only thing that really mattered.
least fifteen years have passed since the last time it looked as arches, now an incurable disease forced him into bed, between those sheets that do not have that smell, that does not have that form, that light that does not have prepositions.
It's called love die, to die for a beautiful woman who is called music ...
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Free Mls Tryouts In Georgia
He was looking down, of course this song has nothing good, only a gentle and melancholy music that asks you "hey here you sit still and silent."
Cigarettes are almost finished, still in pajamas. The time zone
mental, if not adjusted right, can do tricks.
Those are the pads, we promise a rocking body, but the clusters in the throat may risk becoming too dangerous "while smoking and drinking as a sink to Friday evening. The cinnamon gum
not eaten for a long time, but come on this is not the end it tells you the song, and if you say so means that it is true.
But it may well be that the slow decay of these States will be able to take me somewhere.
The cat sleeps on my pillow placid, and I now I must go, sliding the door out of this house is so quiet now except for this little song ...
The nightmares are terrible but at this time of introspection and I have a fear of losing my fucking friends, maybe because inside I feel guilty about something, or because the springs 27 to December're too bad.
Love is a wonderful thing, but ven when a nasty disease is slow in coming.
What can I say good day to everyone
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