A Couple With The Same Birthday

Love Dévendu

As melancholy invites himself later ... still too early.

one day a child has been enrolled in the gears of the world and saw the wealth, he saw the progress, there is contemplated the man - perhaps too much, and this made its construction. Sisyphus shimmering in the source of Narcissus and the pebble prevail: the eternal struggle of the ages and minds? That is, what to do.

If she turned the pages - but empty pages - unfortunately mine are embedded in the ink of my school notebooks. I was taught to follow, I was taught to kill, I learned ... And struck - "never complain" - and taught - "never explain" - at the option of a natural establishment of facts. Why is this good, why is it wrong? Because. He who wields the texts of God is laughing, despite the truth in which he positions himself, but laughed why? Because it is.
Too
the idea of absolutism. Let night time day I go home (home? De-die? And I die?). Yet there is nothing absolute in human languages, there is even more of a niche polysemy infinite, so that misinterpretation infinitely interpretable, by the way, so the worst mistakes, otherwise - never fear the word - mistakes, lies in what one denies that évantail possible and not facts. God created us as successful.

Humanity seems to like a more dense and complex mechanics: the ancient precept that everyone wanted ideally has a place in the mass to be useful, even necessary, to all; we can do ... My train was ejected from the assembly, often escape from the pen I burned my wool, and the VAS does not want me in recovery - would I be if unwanted, irrelevant to their interests? Sell men sell their souls, do you sell! But

redeem you, then, as we are! A woman here, three children there, we have the best opportunities ... Could be consciousness she emerged from the settlement spiritual meanderings? Barely less than ten thousand years we have been dragging ... this property, this defense of me against the other self, the Other-Even, who stands there, the hold which one pulls in neurosis - that's cancer - and blood on the snow that rained by steep granite cliffs to drown us in the dark waters of infamy. What is that level of potential that we wear?

Noah! Thou who hast saved torrential streams! Hear the prayers that I make the night a secret! Listen for the sound of the tides m'immolent mind m'étriquent heart - I've never had less heart? - Torment my body boarding on the waves swirling that we create with the obstinacy surface of my pond with some vile and destabilizing jolt to clear my tears despite the cold and sharp! Jesus Christ is not my messiah, I love another, in mid-darkness, nor female, neither male nor anything yet so all ...

I dreamed that an angel would go to my height, midway between heaven and earth.

Any Cute Picnik Quotes ?yahoo

If you think about these words is that they are in your eyes a little taste of your resentment. Goes fast waltz over the roofs of the Worlds when the nostalgia snow watch your trees frail.

Knowledge is an innate gift that we never really did, so rocking up Nassella in this wicker like Moses who will run along the rivers. Plato dream in your race evasive, it guides you to the gates of a mind that has failed to condemn.

You seem to walk without knowing who you are! Oh! Hey! Stop a bit this Unachievable conflict of temporality, give me your life as before. A Siberian exile on the carpet, hot sled pulled by sliding thought the discerning friends. You whose lives were reduced to humbly see mine ...

President Chirac said to you strange. Your students I have known you were often if not always making mad that they know of madness, they who live too bogged down by the excesses of the world? I learned from you, I saw a soul in your heart more than mind, because you have the amplitude of a tumultuous ocean whose launch echoes of depths to horizons of the future. Coming up, forthcoming, publish, write to support you, you express the gratitude for a night of 29 November two thousand and eight, six hundred terminals you to me you on the back of my head, suspicion when your very first trips you had me diving ... One of the few! Otherwise scarcity incarnated in one body. You, in your speech that I suggest, take between your hands a moment before continuing on your way these few words I address to a star next. I trust that you're prepared, or maybe you employ your time in this final deal now. Philosophy, metaphysics, analysis, why has your being teach me without even knowing it!, And today I take practice. Our interviews are prolific your speech, always full of feel like I write in my face Senss slow timidity heavy unsaid you know. My torpedo, is you.

not without pleasure there to give me a vodka with you, in the rule of Russian folklore. Mr. Varaschin always made me know that I did roll the R in the throat, was it because I liked the best as you ride on the palate? You hear that kind of speech in this idiom must have reached your sixteenth sun-and God knows that the nights are long in the East "- for learning to do, I just had to spend a few hours in your language pedagogy to vibrate my tongue on my palate when I was not yet fifteen years. Human genius, a virtuoso of the word, love letter, unknown cultures that are a little displeased, it must be said here or anywhere, as your poem is dear to me. The Sahara and Ethiopia are the same Siberian gulags in your home that you déppréciez summers in France ... When it is cold in my heart, I can just see you wearing so little in the winter agenais, only read the French teaches you not here, and tell me your double exile, since c is to you that I must infrontière, this distancing of wandering and disillusioned, this disenchantment and his despite. With you I saw a Russian, I saw you with a humanity, a transcendence to a few years of existence. The number does not matter, will never write one that deserves a legitimate work rather than one whose prolific tea corrupting men. Это мой карандаш. Спасиба Иван.