Needless people around me if you're not,
nothing makes sense if I can not love.
Before I write about what has been a disappointing end of year trip, I will write one of the few good things that have had: the moments of solitude before a role.
(April 22, 2006. Rome)
may want to feel my arms and in the meantime
want to kiss your lips
seeing the vastness of the sky
and knowing that our love was eternal.
Time being witness to my acts
and you this time of lethargy, but open your eyes
a May morning
and feel at once that we were something. Perhaps
charm never had no feelings towards something.
But if a beautiful explain to me why it was bitter.
Tell me why, why I still love you?
(April 24, 2006. Venice)
Nothing in the dark. There are no stars
but the light still represents you,
feel as if they could see between my hopes
discard.
Nothing in the sea. Without you there is still beauty
and waves for you dance;
walk with your back
dream proving how much you love them.
Nothing in silence. There is no noise.
already without feeling contempt for life
I can go by lying under
and dream that one day you will be mine.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Chevy Silverado Rims And Tires I can not stand the human voice
Not to harass me I write again, but it has nothing to say. And at this point I'm still thinking what the hell this makes me hate all rational human beings around, making it quite difficult social relations. Not that I mind too much, really.
would not hurt to devote a paragraph to the victims. But not the victims normally have all my respect, but the victims no reason to be. To all those victims that under that mask all happen to me, how bad is the world , conceal a person for whom it is not worth even this paragraph I'm writing. Nor do I deserve to feel disgust towards them, but fortunately or unfortunately life and I have pince a number in front of me and I can not do anything to remove them and shoot it to get right and left is frowned upon. But what good would they do to society if they were ...
despicable beings in stark contrast to other people who make this life a little more enjoyable. It is a pity that they are the least, but hey, one is saved. And some, if not the exact number, which is also very bad to say.
Is my land? My land is you. My people? My people are you. Exile and death for me are where you're not. And my life? Tell me, my life, what is, if not you?
would not hurt to devote a paragraph to the victims. But not the victims normally have all my respect, but the victims no reason to be. To all those victims that under that mask all happen to me, how bad is the world , conceal a person for whom it is not worth even this paragraph I'm writing. Nor do I deserve to feel disgust towards them, but fortunately or unfortunately life and I have pince a number in front of me and I can not do anything to remove them and shoot it to get right and left is frowned upon. But what good would they do to society if they were ...
despicable beings in stark contrast to other people who make this life a little more enjoyable. It is a pity that they are the least, but hey, one is saved. And some, if not the exact number, which is also very bad to say.
Is my land? My land is you. My people? My people are you. Exile and death for me are where you're not. And my life? Tell me, my life, what is, if not you?
Tuesday, April 4, 2006
Konus Spotting Scope For Sale Crystalline thin stream
virgin still seems
tonight that did not stop being beautiful.
Exhaustion takes over the weight of my eyelids and the night closes to me. Short verses dedicated to a woman whose description does not move away from the unreal, unattainable, with eternal residence in my dreams, knowing that talk of eternity is a trifle.
(April 4, 2006)
Delgado
crystal stream of always unsettling murmur,
reflection of what little time there has been
expectantly. Imprisoned
a look,
my imagination flow.
and resuscitate your lips
showing my folly. DNR
one morning and not believe that those dreams thesoul is dead, and find that happiness will not fade a dawn that is yet to come. Anonymous image whose strength fades in the distance, fuzzy features of a past that let him go, or perhaps never came, and also part of the inconsistency that clouds my thoughts. Poetry for the gift of a moment that is immortalized. Poetry to die in your arms, but never get to look at them.
Without any courage or spirit. And no one
scratching, I'm perfectly and we know it. Are only a few verses written on paper and accompanying text, any resemblance to real life (with my current state) is purely coincidental.
tonight that did not stop being beautiful.
Exhaustion takes over the weight of my eyelids and the night closes to me. Short verses dedicated to a woman whose description does not move away from the unreal, unattainable, with eternal residence in my dreams, knowing that talk of eternity is a trifle.
(April 4, 2006)
Delgado
crystal stream of always unsettling murmur,
reflection of what little time there has been
expectantly. Imprisoned
a look,
my imagination flow.
and resuscitate your lips
showing my folly. DNR
one morning and not believe that those dreams thesoul is dead, and find that happiness will not fade a dawn that is yet to come. Anonymous image whose strength fades in the distance, fuzzy features of a past that let him go, or perhaps never came, and also part of the inconsistency that clouds my thoughts. Poetry for the gift of a moment that is immortalized. Poetry to die in your arms, but never get to look at them.
Without any courage or spirit. And no one
scratching, I'm perfectly and we know it. Are only a few verses written on paper and accompanying text, any resemblance to real life (with my current state) is purely coincidental.
Sunday, April 2, 2006
Irritable Bladder And Bowel
Between shadows, back to the past;
shadows, desperate.
I dedicate this post to a lady and will avoid long descriptions. Just the subject treated is common, and preferred to make clear the source that has made this update so that this is not a blatant intertextualization. The credit is yours, since otherwise it would not have occurred to me start thinking.
When choosing a political representative, what motivation drives us to it? For some it will be political conviction whose roots are generations ago, no doubt. For others will some promises that they can make you feel more relaxed while watching the news sitting on a comfortable couch (althoughas we all know, the sofa has applications far more placid than that). I, however, prefer to stay with the motivation of profit . And this is extended to our dear representatives. Already in
Republicans had in mind the ( preposterous? ) distinction between President and Head of Government. The first with total representative value. The same representative value having our beloved King Juan Carlos.
I do not doubt that back in the seventeenth century to have a king who hid his face with the problems it had its minimum value, because it's not like they were the host bicycle. Today I think even that. What does the king? This ... ah, I think when you have to do
shadows, desperate.
I dedicate this post to a lady and will avoid long descriptions. Just the subject treated is common, and preferred to make clear the source that has made this update so that this is not a blatant intertextualization. The credit is yours, since otherwise it would not have occurred to me start thinking.
When choosing a political representative, what motivation drives us to it? For some it will be political conviction whose roots are generations ago, no doubt. For others will some promises that they can make you feel more relaxed while watching the news sitting on a comfortable couch (althoughas we all know, the sofa has applications far more placid than that). I, however, prefer to stay with the motivation of profit . And this is extended to our dear representatives. Already in
Republicans had in mind the ( preposterous? ) distinction between President and Head of Government. The first with total representative value. The same representative value having our beloved King Juan Carlos.
I do not doubt that back in the seventeenth century to have a king who hid his face with the problems it had its minimum value, because it's not like they were the host bicycle. Today I think even that. What does the king? This ... ah, I think when you have to do
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