Accidently Swallowed Listerine?

You belong to him

Flesh opens as it closes when the caress the fabric.

A fascinating material that muscle and it is very hard and is invincible. Even for the most frail among us ... There is strength and it is firmness, shapes the aesthetic. And it transcends. The omnipotence of a god maybe we should have been transmitted when the clay was born muscle.

What is this sin that our foundations are prohibited? He would like to excise from, sometimes. Not the muscle, not the flesh, not the heart, but everything that makes feeding them. Net stop the waves of glowing and warm water, these mysterious blasts of life. That's what he had vowed never again, yet he thinks, thinks about all the nights when he takes off to sleep. At the same time as the rest of his life thin ...

The tears no longer come - too paid for his winter morning. And bruised his flesh still bears the marks of severe crusades delivered in ambush. A neck torn lime burning, respiration is gasping. He considers according to the vibrations of quartz cold knife. Like a guardian mountain whose reserves have dried wood, swept away by any wind Nordic unwanted. Report not made in the paradox of his world.

Compromises no longer exist. The men seem determined to take everything or leave everything. The will is one hot second, but consumes the third. His body had suffered many battles, avoided so many struggles ... That it was granting his confidence. When he did not know. When he did not suspect anything. The real conquerors, those who bully and treacherously murdered without regret no, still covet more than they already have, are far beyond what they offer. He lost, it was disembodied.

The rejection itself is that the treacherous blade slay taught him tenderness. We hit the cattle with a hot iron before shipping it to its final moments. That is what he lived, so he still lives today, tomorrow will live again. By puncturing the veil of her body, she was touched in his heart, wounded on his balance. The man was amazed by nature, without voice, he was hungry and wild in his madness stole the life of a dove, and Noah, where are the chaste past creatures you have saved? Not me ...

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles

I-catcher Console ?web Monitor

Géométraumatiques

--------------- ----- Shapes and Circles and Squares

-------------------- thats my mind bears have spare,

----- --------------- What is What the man dares

-------------------- while I defy ' m going anywhere?



-------------------- Bang, bang - it break off of the head,

-------------------- shapes, circles and squares ;

-------------------- knocking on at coffins from the air. I'm dead,

-------------------- As dead as a hung lovely hare.



-------------------- You come on, shoot your gun.

-------------------- Let it -me ?- fall to that nowhere.

-------------------- And flowers from the woods are fun,

-------------------- you said with shapes, circles and squares...



-------------------- Does What It's Done Is share?

-------------------- Theys Things not to tell weep

----------------- --- Such as circles, squares and shapes.

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles

French Farmhouse Decorating Ideas

miss the Christmas Angel

tables are a fascinating masturbation logic of reason. Power and consider the probabilities of true and false, it's like having been immersed in a natural breath. To be or not to be, "said the poet, while other ladies jamming the blades by twenty times in the neck. Trivia, fleeting dreams of a private sphere and childish; there is no question tonight vain teachings fertile.


------------ Now I forgive the gentle fury
------------ Who made me consume the best of my age,
------------ Without drawing another figment of my thankless work
------------ What the vain pastime of a long error.

------------ Now I forgive this pleasant work,
------------ Since it only numbs the concern that outrages me,
------------ And since only he midst of the storm,
------------ So before, I do not tremble with fear.

------------ If the worms have been the abuse of my youth,
------------ The worms will also support my old age,
------------ If they were my folly, they are my reason,

--------- --- If they were my injury, they shall be my Achilles
------------ If they were my venom, scorpion useful
------------ Who will be the only cure my disease.

-------------------------------------------- Joachim Du Bellay


I want when I'm reborn mouru ever ask of me recognize myself in that I run, and the deepest desire that haunts me still yet this absurd strangeness of life around me. For anxiety did not gain its omniscience, eternity completes the bones in my forsake me not. This Boredom references well reasoned and oriented toward a future that remains uncertain is what he eats blood in me. I guess that's what might be called a face of the human condition?


------------ It is said that the child grows,
------------ They say we 'll fathers
------------ is said that man ascended,
------------ It asks to hear his prayers.


After this past as present, but future ... Coming up, rather - I what may. There on my doorstep a few rosebuds that I thought they will hatch more. The swallow, which last year had hidden her nest under the roof of my window goes back to my air, it seems to me to collect a great flapping of wings in the distance.

I was like sometimes, often abused, alienated forever. If I do not consider myself, I prefer humility to bad faith, and if I'm wrong enough, the criticism that I will give me insight. I will never deny neither one nor the other, nor do these obsessions. So I tame, soothing, would contain - of course, occur gloomy days, I reasoned overhung proud. And I will write to spill the blood of my veins so that he crosses contexts, epochs, transcends the people, bore his torpor, exists. And also, I repeat the coffee place Cambronne.


------------ Who condemns you? In whose name?
------------ But who is bent on blowing out your candles?
------------ Do you lie, do you betray
------------ If I invent you brighter future?

---------------------------------------------- - Mylène Farmer

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles