Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Hindi Channels Frequency Astra
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Wine And Horrible Stomach Ache
The moon is too faithful ally. It melts on my shoulders, sometimes, like Judah embracing Jesus, then it hits, resonates throughout the brain, in every corner of my mind. If once and for all eternity we could ... We liked ... But who is we?
This candle is perched on the windowsill - in my lonely window, the last bulwark against the hostilities night - look at me with his red wax lying on the floor, hands shot in the ceiling. No sound and I hear Sigur Ròs echoing from the depths of the ages unto the limits of the species. The heart and poumme Toumma, inaudible, just sensitive. Stay! ... And if we had taken the time to tell. Everything. Would have been different?
in the mood I regret with a passion extinguished and cold to my stomach knotted ridiculous. I would have been different, as much as you. It seems that the figures are changing because the world is reversible. The cat flies, gracious in her feline race, sensual, precious, the dog is drowning, but happy is against trains submarines, these miraculous banks tits gold and azure. In the middle do I find? In-between, always at the intersection of these roads that invisible force me bar. Sometimes you, sometimes me, sometimes that, and yet other days even the Other. Where am I?
If only the memories do not disappear in my memory dirty ... Polished by time, wind-rock, the scraps that are left cronies, and that the moon is a traitor, dissolve when I did not realize their impending absence. And that emptiness, the abyss, the abyss, the abbess, m'abaissent ceases ... of ... exist ... The time is greedy, gambling to be prevails straightforward, legally: too many words for the ills afflicting never apprehended do a little more.
Yet the vast wave that is beyond window, plains, valleys, basins, oceans, countries and continents across the world perhaps, invites me to live again, a little bit, told me that this place some disembodied await the gathering of men, and they will wait, even if it does not see it coming, then they die will say "I lived for nothing, for while I lived. "
Let us lose all the strongholds of our ancestors, do not keep our nose to closed cases, when everything vanishes by the heights of an infinite universe beyond us.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Wording To A Jewelry Party
Copyright: INA
And soon, you never know when the urge will point the tip of his nose!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Igrice Naruto I Saske
"True Grit" - Mattie Ross |
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Pain In Shoulder Energy Drink
Today January 14, 2011 will be remembered. We descended into the streets. Thousands of Tunisian shouted slogans and raised banners that nobody imagined. Today we called freedom, victory, we applauded the departure of those who have stolen and won. Any Tunisia rose with one voice, with one call, a Democrat Tunisia, tunisia a Free, No to oppression No to Corruption.
That same evening of 14 January, we unfortunately scared. We could not live our victory, we are unable to show our joy. Tonight, it is stolen, rob and plunder. The fear is that our doors are smashed at any moment. All families are grouped in a single room. Alerted the senses, nerves awake. Many of us can not sleep for more than a week. On this day we do not want to sleep because you're afraid of being nipped in our sleep.
On January 14, we got freedom of expression, we give our opinion spontaneously, all the media filming us and we sent our voice, loud and louder than ever. On the other hand, it has never been so steeped in insecurity. It has never been so scared for our lives, for our own.
At or write these words, helicopters sweep the sky of my city, looters go in the 404 sheeted clotted with threatening glances. All the stores around are emptied of their contents. The night we got our freedom, we do not know what tomorrow will bring, but a feeling tells me have hope and be confident. We recovered our dignity, we are more than ever proud to be Tunisian, more than ever proud to have achieved what we want at the price of blood indeed, but dignity is priceless.
Right now, there's looters are moving in the surrounding streets. All men and women are out, careful to defend what is left to defend. There is more strength in order to protect us, we must protect ourselves with our hands, our voices ...
If we continue on foot tomorrow, we need to think about rebuilding what was destroyed, to remove the traces of what has been burnt. Now is not that one can judge the guilty, but until the priority is to reorganize and return to order. Order we must also impose ourselves by dint of shouting and sacrifice.