Cake Candles Sparklers

the perfect lesson of history, the Wolf's Fine

E 'is forbidden for Jews to give Hitler posthumous victories
Emil Fackenheim

"God save thee, ancient Mariner,
from the demons that plague thee thus!
Why change expression? "" With my crossbow I
abbattei the Albatross. "
Samuel Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner


History should have taught us the lesson of the cycle, the precious awareness of cause and effect and the wonderful gift of memory. Every step of the boot shod human militia, advancing, it sinks into the quagmire of their ancestral discovery, packed house of subjects have never been spared from singing the praises of the supposed powerful, nor the prostrate before them.
History should have taught us the art of patience, the cyclical nature Return the meat to dust. The inevitable revolution is written in the human genome. The evolution of consciousness bent. The desperate cries rising above the din of the last army. A conviction, high and harsh, is driven by the gloved hands of the persecutor, tugged on his hair matted, along a border that is not that a trail of blood from gastropod. An insect gutted the placenta, insectoid, bruised, incorrectly, that infects the land of life that was torn.
History should have taught us the tale of ideals, unfortunately, still far away, yet the audience. It 'was the tyranny of the first beast to feed, moliplicare its forms. Ruthless killer. It feeds everything can not be arrested and become fat, and become great, grand and distant, so lazy that every movement will be increasingly difficult to pursue. Finally, we will eat, and we with her, she will be satisfied, we will make great feasting and orgy. Become strong and prolificacy.
I can not stop thinking about the End of the Wolf, on Fenrir, Elijah. A Kundera who attempted a moon in the Vltava river Seine. Feelings, too fragile, that break, and the body more vulnerable and valuable, ranging in depth, as the crew of Coleridge, culled from the most terrible of curses, inevitable.
Food for the monster.

In affordance

now

Rising immemorial the sleepless

Rising immemorial the sleepless

now

Rising immemorial the sleepless

idea too, longitude reimprime

like a blind man

like crazy

now

Rising oblivious insomnia.

Cake Candles Sparklers

the perfect lesson of history, the Wolf's Fine

E 'is forbidden for Jews to give Hitler posthumous victories
Emil Fackenheim

"God save thee, ancient Mariner,
from the demons that plague thee thus!
Why change expression? "" With my crossbow I
abbattei the Albatross. "
Samuel Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner


History should have taught us the lesson of the cycle, the precious awareness of cause and effect and the wonderful gift of memory. Every step of the boot shod human militia, advancing, it sinks into the quagmire of their ancestral discovery, packed house of subjects have never been spared from singing the praises of the supposed powerful, nor the prostrate before them.
History should have taught us the art of patience, the cyclical nature Return the meat to dust. The inevitable revolution is written in the human genome. The evolution of consciousness bent. The desperate cries rising above the din of the last army. A conviction, high and harsh, is driven by the gloved hands of the persecutor, tugged on his hair matted, along a border that is not that a trail of blood from gastropod. An insect gutted the placenta, insectoid, bruised, incorrectly, that infects the land of life that was torn.
History should have taught us the tale of ideals, unfortunately, still far away, yet the audience. It 'was the tyranny of the first beast to feed, moliplicare its forms. Ruthless killer. It feeds everything can not be arrested and become fat, and become great, grand and distant, so lazy that every movement will be increasingly difficult to pursue. Finally, we will eat, and we with her, she will be satisfied, we will make great feasting and orgy. Become strong and prolificacy.
I can not stop thinking about the End of the Wolf, on Fenrir, Elijah. A Kundera who attempted a moon in the Vltava river Seine. Feelings, too fragile, that break, and the body more vulnerable and valuable, ranging in depth, as the crew of Coleridge, culled from the most terrible of curses, inevitable.
Food for the monster.

In affordance

now

Rising immemorial the sleepless

Rising immemorial the sleepless

now

Rising immemorial the sleepless

idea too, longitude reimprime

like a blind man

like crazy

now

Rising oblivious insomnia.

Tiling The Bathtub Edge

Underluv

Underluv

loosened sign along your fragile sense
you, the heart of lily, mestizo air
it were not for this heavy breathing
lips will dissolve in the mouth,
gently
the warm tongue caress.
hands too far apart and the desire to touch you too much.
woman should be embarrassed for my fingers
light skin, lighter eyes
,
soul scratched amber
free, stronger.
body too far and too much the
want to feel and move
bodies still too far apart, the noise

even truer, hesitant to touch each


expect that the constant does not render it sweeter
see.

Tiling The Bathtub Edge

Underluv

Underluv

loosened sign along your fragile sense
you, the heart of lily, mestizo air
it were not for this heavy breathing
lips will dissolve in the mouth,
gently
the warm tongue caress.
hands too far apart and the desire to touch you too much.
woman should be embarrassed for my fingers
light skin, lighter eyes
,
soul scratched amber
free, stronger.
body too far and too much the
want to feel and move
bodies still too far apart, the noise

even truer, hesitant to touch each


expect that the constant does not render it sweeter
see.

How Much Do Topsy Tervy Cakes Cost

Comedians Jewish wandering

I believe in the science of the individual. Nell'imprescindibile bond between man and lemma. The word that affects us. The words express the individual becomes both a code and a reason to exist. We are what we say, expression. The ability to report that our species has evolved to art and rhetoric in metamorphosis. His first reason lies like a sentence, unequivocal. Innocence and duty are not the world.
The limit of a divine consciousness that will not form ever.
What I can not bear.
I can not stop thinking about Klara, the B52 that blend with the desert, because the color changes the adjectives that matter, of which man has made undeniable baptism, decided a fate that the same hand, of different man, woman, perhaps, changing the meaning of death made clear, it changed its inherent simplicity, this choice may not be a conviction. Read a mechanical, analog, reflected light, which are not painted on the desert tracks in the desired depth, lying smoke.
I can not stop thinking about the incredible inconsistency of people. What do you
pushes to be?
Dream?
Girl with narrow hips.
Iris in the mirror that the camera makes it immortal hesitate aware of its blackest heart.
I can not stop thinking about a cold determination.
the object-oriented programming, art interpretation, which describes a universe that responds to the first rule, creates objects by abstraction of an idea.
The first rule is the balance of an excruciating stalemate, resolved in the fluid that allows the body to move, flex. The second is
not talk about Fight Club
I feel this anxiety finally diegetic, which periodically grips me the guts, to vanish. I am increasingly dismayed to see that the least common multiple of this slow return to the surface is always a sad loneliness made of alcohol and restless dreams, pages written in half and dropped talk, talk then taken involuntarily, by rumors that you were not expecting or a caress you had never asked.

In exchange I have a copy of Underword and as always the heresiarch bee, playing behind the revived Blind Melon that a friend pointed out to me that it would be appropriate to repeat. Meanwhile, how can I choose to go back, more and more convinced that it is not, that everything, however, that the return is nothing but the ennessimo deception that we confess in secret just to make things a bit more bearable.
As if it were possible to have a second chance.

Grullerie gypsy

The heir does not have a name that begins with a vowel. The
cries.
Aieoooooueeeeooo.
impresses with gestures
form the wind.
express the inheritance of eternal dancing

an infinite movement. Feel

without sucking wind
AaaahhhaahhaA
air imploding before going out as if waiting
singing.

Gypsies barefoot
chosen to be oblivious to certain

animals. Virgin
hot

man panting dog barking,
belly. Shout

way that satisfies, light.

Rima
wait and jump unsuspecting crowd of bodies and

and invokes the passion, the air as the wind steals

gives breath to the song.

AieoooooueeeeooO!


Steal a moment of dance barefoot on the earth one step

fire
cries
the gypsy life and laughs in the street.
Sing.

How Much Do Topsy Tervy Cakes Cost

Comedians Jewish wandering

I believe in the science of the individual. Nell'imprescindibile bond between man and lemma. The word that affects us. The words express the individual becomes both a code and a reason to exist. We are what we say, expression. The ability to report that our species has evolved to art and rhetoric in metamorphosis. His first reason lies like a sentence, unequivocal. Innocence and duty are not the world.
The limit of a divine consciousness that will not form ever.
What I can not bear.
I can not stop thinking about Klara, the B52 that blend with the desert, because the color changes the adjectives that matter, of which man has made undeniable baptism, decided a fate that the same hand, of different man, woman, perhaps, changing the meaning of death made clear, it changed its inherent simplicity, this choice may not be a conviction. Read a mechanical, analog, reflected light, which are not painted on the desert tracks in the desired depth, lying smoke.
I can not stop thinking about the incredible inconsistency of people. What do you
pushes to be?
Dream?
Girl with narrow hips.
Iris in the mirror that the camera makes it immortal hesitate aware of its blackest heart.
I can not stop thinking about a cold determination.
the object-oriented programming, art interpretation, which describes a universe that responds to the first rule, creates objects by abstraction of an idea.
The first rule is the balance of an excruciating stalemate, resolved in the fluid that allows the body to move, flex. The second is
not talk about Fight Club
I feel this anxiety finally diegetic, which periodically grips me the guts, to vanish. I am increasingly dismayed to see that the least common multiple of this slow return to the surface is always a sad loneliness made of alcohol and restless dreams, pages written in half and dropped talk, talk then taken involuntarily, by rumors that you were not expecting or a caress you had never asked.

In exchange I have a copy of Underword and as always the heresiarch bee, playing behind the revived Blind Melon that a friend pointed out to me that it would be appropriate to repeat. Meanwhile, how can I choose to go back, more and more convinced that it is not, that everything, however, that the return is nothing but the ennessimo deception that we confess in secret just to make things a bit more bearable.
As if it were possible to have a second chance.

Grullerie gypsy

The heir does not have a name that begins with a vowel. The
cries.
Aieoooooueeeeooo.
impresses with gestures
form the wind.
express the inheritance of eternal dancing

an infinite movement. Feel

without sucking wind
AaaahhhaahhaA
air imploding before going out as if waiting
singing.

Gypsies barefoot
chosen to be oblivious to certain

animals. Virgin
hot

man panting dog barking,
belly. Shout

way that satisfies, light.

Rima
wait and jump unsuspecting crowd of bodies and

and invokes the passion, the air as the wind steals

gives breath to the song.

AieoooooueeeeooO!


Steal a moment of dance barefoot on the earth one step

fire
cries
the gypsy life and laughs in the street.
Sing.