Philosophy forum
Philosophy Forum
Decadence
Speaking of decadence ("decadent society," "decadent aristocracy," etc.). Is relevant only if we put it established that the one has fallen or that it is decaying. However, should it be stupid to commit an error as trivial! The decay is well deserved for those who have it, that's all. Me, anyway, I do not complain.
The horrors of World War e
Often we hear, here or there "but how could anyone (from 1939 to 1945) allow such things without reacting? How human beings could they indulge in committing crimes as horrendous? . These questions are legitimate, and reveal the moral chasm that separates our present humanity from that of our grandparents (who are still our friends). And yet, as I leaned on the subject, I became convinced, to my amazement that I knew the answers! I too am able to allow such things without reacting, let me go to commit crimes so appalling! And if you think I'm going tell you my method, you are wrong! Band queer! I am very much alone on the other side of the moral abyss! Fags!
The clean car
We managed today to develop fuel "green" does not reject (or less) of harmful particles during combustion in the engine of the automobile is can "run clean through, for example, Liquefied Petroleum Gas (best known by its acronym: GPL). However, this may hinder - and embarrasses me - in this riot of cleanliness, it is withdraws to the honest man a whole section of driving pleasure, one that is piss poor these jerks pedestrians with black smoke carcinogens well. What
time without morality.
morality in the affairs of the City
As far as we go back in the history of human thought, at least through its written records, the issue of human moral political representative of the people or the common will has always been acute. Can he run the city, the man who in his own affairs demonstrated greed, lightness or lust? To resume a more contemporary vocabulary, the "private sphere" Does it have significant impacts on the "public sphere", should there be a control, a look at the morality of the politician (the word used here in its broadest sense more general)?
As an example, the relative modernity does not overshadow the exemplary value: the former president of the United States of America, Mr. Bill Clinton. In his case, both unique and representative of a whole class of similar situations, world public opinion was it to make judgments based on his marital indiscretions? It a question that I have quite difficult to answer because when I try to think about it, my decision is clouded by visions of that fat slut Monica in the process of sucking greedily, the slut, oh, the mouth full of shit, excuse me, it totally distracts me.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Custom Bmx Bike Design
light at the end of the tunnel, three steps to the brink, lost
I am unable to rebuild
I feel like a doll that would have broken every single western
a surgeon saw in hand and the bottle Jack in the other, which should take place by itself but can not
reinforced concrete has turned his gun against himself
sleep
Do not dream. Mexico died subbutex mex not solve anything.
Save me
I am unable to rebuild
I feel like a doll that would have broken every single western
a surgeon saw in hand and the bottle Jack in the other, which should take place by itself but can not
reinforced concrete has turned his gun against himself
sleep
Do not dream. Mexico died subbutex mex not solve anything.
Save me
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Low And Open Cervix And Pms Symptoms?
vox1969 @ 2005-05-21T11: 23:00
The patrol Loose - Euskadi V
It never returns without understanding in places where they lived for events - places where the geometry of space, ideas and causal pathways sink, all together in the nawak-style. The Basque Country (Euskadi in Aboriginal language) is one of those areas non-Euclidean, something like a mix of Twin Peaks and Alice in Wonderland, but true ...
For this last tour, back in Euskadi was forthcoming, however, not so bad after all, the last time we did not break anything, and then with allies in place, normally, nothing could happen to us ... My ass, yes , another day and a night patrol calibrated for the loose (patroioak losoak).
Departure caravan New toulousovsky (truck plus two cars, so a couple of boyz and girlz Loose) posseegang relatively light compared to other opportunities - a few hours to get into the green valleys of Vascoland, the country where Road signs are tagged by the nationalists, the country where the revolutionary banners bloom like poppies in the fields.
There is widespread in the time scale set to 14 hours, the festival is held under a huge white tent mounted on a rugby pitch, why not ... A huge sign reading "No to the cops" ... More surprising, when it returns, instead of discovering a team of technicians happy busy pretending to work, you come across a kind of banquet in progress, with trestles, benches, white paper tablecloths. A hundred Basque busy drinking booze in bulk from the stew meat ... After all, why not? We also moved to take advantage the meal, it is 14:30, by opening festoche, we have time after all ... It's always nice to enjoy a bowl of soup, though he served in a plastic bowl. And then it's an opportunity to begin to quietly put the muzzle.
After a while, you end up wondering if it is the right place and not in a banquet-conference natzionalistoak, especially when they begin to install a screen for projecting slides. Without the presence of a scene at the bottom of giant barnum and some organizers known, there would really doubt it ... But what we are after all the country Basque, should avoid asking too many questions here.
Suddenly, silence claimed, images are projected - completely enigmatic for the most part, faces or places unknown. Some cheered, others booed ... Apparently there are pictures of political prisoners, but it is not clear, it lasts a little while, simultaneously circulating coffee, patxaran (a digestive local, not enough damn themselves into export by diplomatic bag, but very drinkable), and a nuisance more palpable for rockers that we are on a spree.
Still, it is already 16 h, no one has yet risen from the table, and now suddenly a guy gets up, takes a microphone and starts singing, alone, a kind of traditional song, kind of, um, traditional. The guests applaud, and here comes another turn to sing, something approaching ... very
interlude: uncoupling or
Combined effects of fatigue, drugs and uncertainties in the future, trains of thought are dislocated into autonomous units and indivisible that connect more and more ill. Thus, each group of words written, I wonder what I meant. Unfathomable mystery - like a fish in a jar, my immediate memory is becoming shorter, do not bother trying to focus, like it would be the big top for a good session of automatic writing ... No, I I'm too lazy. Resuming our history.
At first, it (almost) fine, the monophonic vocal exercises. Except as the tenth member, you begin to find that it is still somewhat the same thing. Despite the change of projected images for each participant. Anyway, we do not understand very well why and how these projected images: mouth Patxi to the Star Academy (2, 3??), a car accident, the naked torsos of a woman supposed to light the way they were touching the bust ...
FLASH: light reflectance Paulo, attention fixed on the plates: "damn, is that the 64 here! "
After an endless series of local bleating, we finally explains what this strange sect: the" singers "to improvise on a tune t ', a verse in connection with the projected image. It makes things a little less surreal, but always chiantes, especially as time begins to run. This is the kind of performances that gives you repetitive after a while the urge to eat pine cones and kill your dog, especially if you do not. My hatred for inbred mountain folk songs, already heavily fed trauma childish reached on this day a point of no return absolute ...
At 18 hours, finally stopping the unbearable, and it is for us to swing, while the tables are removed. As ever, the technical team (who speaks only English or Basque, it is still the language festival) has not yet prepared but that it is the usual unknowns, leading to the classical result:
- general delay in the timing of confuses "should stop playing there is more time", electricity safety a bit random (thanks to the magic of micro and short-circuit, I tested a good load of 110) ...
For makeup and cleansing, we landed in a strange place, a sort of municipal stadium locker room, but at the bottom of a purlin. Do not ask questions, do not ask questions.
Everyone is quite unhappy, relationship with the organization behind the person responsible for us to sleep starts to make faces and heavy emphasis on "Above all, you do not mess in the house" - going to complain about in our back that "they are all bitches" ... It's heavy, very heavy, and after a while, so that the herd is standing beside the truck in a beautiful elk herd idleness, comes a new character, as follows:
SERGE PUNK head uneventful beard fairly well maintained property, dog, almost covered a wide variety of badges (Serge, not the dog), the BERU GBH through all the variations of A and Anarchy " neither God nor master. " Eyes like saucers, and the speech of those who have both drunk too much and too swallowed. "I adore you, if you want you can come to my squat, I have a hut in the countryside, and what booze ... .
And suddenly, that the events are linked, with a nice effect gear-way as they do not make - well, if unfortunately the evidence. This brunette atomic Jess (Jess is not Jessifer, although I've heard people I will not denounce call it that, no I do not tell tales!) Hypothesized that this may be be less boring to go to sleep at that Serge will take the lead with the organization. Others say "why not". A draft herd investing an isolated house with a 2-liter bottle of Absolut, "that can only seduce the band, although two quarts of kavod is not bezef. It is always better than a country cottage in Keutcha accident in which nothing should be touched to avoid leaving fingerprints. The more one thinks, the more the idea is downright seductive ... Except that in the state in which we are, we should remember that we must not think too much.
And suddenly, everyone ends up landing at Serge, after some vicissitudes of type A (for brief reminder of what an episode of type A: Loss of way in rural land deep on roads too narrow to turn around) pretty trivial ... God that the path seems long, especially when one is more to follow and we lost ...
PSYCHOSIS 64 - madhouse A field strewn with rubble and various other baths abandoned, not to mention a few tractor tires and scrap metal business - finally, it looks more like my old home, which is not the least worrisome of the case. On the front decrepit a good scaffold roots well, two-story, seeing, Paulo kidding: "wah, a bunk bed, I take the top one! "- Unfortunately it is not that far from reality .... A half-ruined lost amid the hills, very late, weird people. Reality ... The word is perhaps not very appropriate in the circumstances. In any case, difficult to speak of "realism" as you swim in the incongruity.
It is important at this stage of the story, involve two unnamed characters (no name that I know anyway), but as I may, for convenience, by following terms: "Asshole" and "crate". The latter seems to be the cops first. A physical rather difficult: Benny Hill girl with long hair torsadent (like pasta) and teeth planted randomly, all bundles in a punk-goth outfit which reminds us that the package does not like cheese. Asshole, meanwhile, is a prototype punk sedentary dog, but I do not remember very well his head, except the teeth that go beyond a grin not very cool. Both seem to be friends of Serge, or squatters, hard to say, at least they are there and well there in the house - and that's when things go wrong. Because if Serge, though much battered, seems to be a good guy, can not be said of his cronies.
The hut is a rat hole smelling piss mouse, moisture and musty smell of old Teuscher, duct of square kilometers of posters punkaille under the spider houses, especially the "living room", a mess phenomenal with sofa and armchairs grimy, low table covered with reliefs of firecrackers / condoms in their pack / stuff undetermined. Serge brings music, very loud, something that resembles Bérus, but in Basque. It goes in search of Plautus, we find two: one with a bed, another with a mattress still in its plastic wrapper (at least the bugs will not have touched ...). By tightly, you should be able to hold eight people ... Well, it's a little bad there, but nevermind (Bob Sono, somewhat irritated by the patrolling loosebroquant, self-exile in the truck), I'm exhausted, I collapse into a dark corner and in a semi-coma punctuated by music and drunken bellowing on the ground floor. Semi-coma barely disturbed by the arrival busy, next of me, and a girl Tofe bone came from Montpellier to follow us, they come to play octopus vying for the tentacles. They can also be palpated at leisure, the little noise they make is covered by the bustle of increasingly frightening amount of the ground floor.
(I'll spare you the details ...)
Except that this time, Low opens the door, haggard eyes, and loose, both anxious and a little puzzled:
- well, then we draw is the house of the psychopaths, here ...
Reconstitution:
Obviously, Pillow and his sidekick trapping could have avoided starting to pick up posters of the walls, including a giant Exploited best effect. It does not happen when you go among people. Obviously, Low could avoid starting to empty the fridge of all liquids. It does not happen when you go among people. Obviously, we would not behave as if we were in a squat. It does not happen when you go among people. Anyway, late hour, molecules in the head, it still does not know what we do ...
Asshole crate and are obviously part of the species' punk villain - after insulting everyone in turn, cause a great story and good stick, the genre that is set with a knife, also there are knives on the table, something I had not noticed earlier, they came to "I'll go get the gun, we'll do the cleaning at Punish the ... "Jav, record holder for tonight in the number of insults sustained, has also mapped out well before that, history does not blow (because it might be pretty hard for a practitioner bastons drunken, he had to learn to live and an awareness that we are not with us).
was nice to think that the Basques are warm-blooded and that not everything should be taken at face value ... It is still alarming. Slightly alarming. Especially when Cocksucker gets up to really go in search of a gun ...
alarming enough, therefore, useful to try to block it before parte lollipop serious. In a quite indescribable mess, everyone rushes to the truck and cars in front of a bewildered and ultra-Serge Stone does not understand why we are going. "You understand, finally, we will return to Toulouse, it was a job and all ... Water plants, feed the fish ....» "ooooo damage is a good laugh ... "Let
Serge among his trash crafts with her friends who like the rest of the world. The day will not soon get up and patrol will end happily loose what little remains of night sleeping in a parking lot at St. Jean De Luz. After various adventures, such as retrieving, wandering on a road, Jav, busy blowing a big tree branch to externalize his anger (good catharsis, the scope of the branch), return to the madhouse, sly, to retrieve a forgotten object ("you'll laugh, I think I left my laptop there ..."), getting lost several times (another episode of type A. Finally, a ...).. . It is Sunday morning, it's cold, it is stacked boulochent on benches that, when we could be in a country cottage, fluffy beds and all ... It's really loose competition.
Some in the truck, some in cars, a human flock who was exhausted at the finish chocolatine Sunday morning. Sunday morning ...
I did not go to sleep, too much chemistry in ecstasy. Easy to write when you have taken stimulants, and we are in a situation where there is nothing else to do but write, except maybe wait trying to catch small flying fragments of neurons flitting in every direction ...
Stall car
11:07 - difficult to focus on a specific goal or idea, apart from the cold more and more vivid that I feel inside (fatigue). If I write is even more to express an idea or emotion in particular, is just write for the writing is difficult for me to talk about the pleasure of writing (and I do not even speak of pleased to read that ...) I just
metaphors and conjectures that go too fast or too slow, and crashed in the chaos of the semi-conscious before it was made clear. And I must not seem very inspired frankly, with my hood pulled down over his eyes ....
People under
trip is said that "people who love" seem to be on a planet of their own, which the world feels more or less exiled. Well let me tell you it's bullshit, those who are really on another planet is people who have swallowed the trips. Experience: release two guts in a normal meeting. They will recognize immediately, and start talking to each other (and anyone else), exchanging curious glances telepathic and seeming to understand to a degree of consciousness that qualify modestly "different."
The most amazing is that if we repeat the same few days later, and that they talk of their meeeeeeeeeega travel, you have every chance they can get back to talking among themselves and sink again in this kind of empathy confused. And yet they are not at all, in theory, under prod.
... writing bullshit.
The patrol Loose - Euskadi V
It never returns without understanding in places where they lived for events - places where the geometry of space, ideas and causal pathways sink, all together in the nawak-style. The Basque Country (Euskadi in Aboriginal language) is one of those areas non-Euclidean, something like a mix of Twin Peaks and Alice in Wonderland, but true ...
For this last tour, back in Euskadi was forthcoming, however, not so bad after all, the last time we did not break anything, and then with allies in place, normally, nothing could happen to us ... My ass, yes , another day and a night patrol calibrated for the loose (patroioak losoak).
Departure caravan New toulousovsky (truck plus two cars, so a couple of boyz and girlz Loose) posseegang relatively light compared to other opportunities - a few hours to get into the green valleys of Vascoland, the country where Road signs are tagged by the nationalists, the country where the revolutionary banners bloom like poppies in the fields.
There is widespread in the time scale set to 14 hours, the festival is held under a huge white tent mounted on a rugby pitch, why not ... A huge sign reading "No to the cops" ... More surprising, when it returns, instead of discovering a team of technicians happy busy pretending to work, you come across a kind of banquet in progress, with trestles, benches, white paper tablecloths. A hundred Basque busy drinking booze in bulk from the stew meat ... After all, why not? We also moved to take advantage the meal, it is 14:30, by opening festoche, we have time after all ... It's always nice to enjoy a bowl of soup, though he served in a plastic bowl. And then it's an opportunity to begin to quietly put the muzzle.
After a while, you end up wondering if it is the right place and not in a banquet-conference natzionalistoak, especially when they begin to install a screen for projecting slides. Without the presence of a scene at the bottom of giant barnum and some organizers known, there would really doubt it ... But what we are after all the country Basque, should avoid asking too many questions here.
Suddenly, silence claimed, images are projected - completely enigmatic for the most part, faces or places unknown. Some cheered, others booed ... Apparently there are pictures of political prisoners, but it is not clear, it lasts a little while, simultaneously circulating coffee, patxaran (a digestive local, not enough damn themselves into export by diplomatic bag, but very drinkable), and a nuisance more palpable for rockers that we are on a spree.
Still, it is already 16 h, no one has yet risen from the table, and now suddenly a guy gets up, takes a microphone and starts singing, alone, a kind of traditional song, kind of, um, traditional. The guests applaud, and here comes another turn to sing, something approaching ... very
interlude: uncoupling or
Combined effects of fatigue, drugs and uncertainties in the future, trains of thought are dislocated into autonomous units and indivisible that connect more and more ill. Thus, each group of words written, I wonder what I meant. Unfathomable mystery - like a fish in a jar, my immediate memory is becoming shorter, do not bother trying to focus, like it would be the big top for a good session of automatic writing ... No, I I'm too lazy. Resuming our history.
At first, it (almost) fine, the monophonic vocal exercises. Except as the tenth member, you begin to find that it is still somewhat the same thing. Despite the change of projected images for each participant. Anyway, we do not understand very well why and how these projected images: mouth Patxi to the Star Academy (2, 3??), a car accident, the naked torsos of a woman supposed to light the way they were touching the bust ...
FLASH: light reflectance Paulo, attention fixed on the plates: "damn, is that the 64 here! "
After an endless series of local bleating, we finally explains what this strange sect: the" singers "to improvise on a tune t ', a verse in connection with the projected image. It makes things a little less surreal, but always chiantes, especially as time begins to run. This is the kind of performances that gives you repetitive after a while the urge to eat pine cones and kill your dog, especially if you do not. My hatred for inbred mountain folk songs, already heavily fed trauma childish reached on this day a point of no return absolute ...
At 18 hours, finally stopping the unbearable, and it is for us to swing, while the tables are removed. As ever, the technical team (who speaks only English or Basque, it is still the language festival) has not yet prepared but that it is the usual unknowns, leading to the classical result:
- general delay in the timing of confuses "should stop playing there is more time", electricity safety a bit random (thanks to the magic of micro and short-circuit, I tested a good load of 110) ...
For makeup and cleansing, we landed in a strange place, a sort of municipal stadium locker room, but at the bottom of a purlin. Do not ask questions, do not ask questions.
Everyone is quite unhappy, relationship with the organization behind the person responsible for us to sleep starts to make faces and heavy emphasis on "Above all, you do not mess in the house" - going to complain about in our back that "they are all bitches" ... It's heavy, very heavy, and after a while, so that the herd is standing beside the truck in a beautiful elk herd idleness, comes a new character, as follows:
SERGE PUNK head uneventful beard fairly well maintained property, dog, almost covered a wide variety of badges (Serge, not the dog), the BERU GBH through all the variations of A and Anarchy " neither God nor master. " Eyes like saucers, and the speech of those who have both drunk too much and too swallowed. "I adore you, if you want you can come to my squat, I have a hut in the countryside, and what booze ... .
And suddenly, that the events are linked, with a nice effect gear-way as they do not make - well, if unfortunately the evidence. This brunette atomic Jess (Jess is not Jessifer, although I've heard people I will not denounce call it that, no I do not tell tales!) Hypothesized that this may be be less boring to go to sleep at that Serge will take the lead with the organization. Others say "why not". A draft herd investing an isolated house with a 2-liter bottle of Absolut, "that can only seduce the band, although two quarts of kavod is not bezef. It is always better than a country cottage in Keutcha accident in which nothing should be touched to avoid leaving fingerprints. The more one thinks, the more the idea is downright seductive ... Except that in the state in which we are, we should remember that we must not think too much.
And suddenly, everyone ends up landing at Serge, after some vicissitudes of type A (for brief reminder of what an episode of type A: Loss of way in rural land deep on roads too narrow to turn around) pretty trivial ... God that the path seems long, especially when one is more to follow and we lost ...
PSYCHOSIS 64 - madhouse A field strewn with rubble and various other baths abandoned, not to mention a few tractor tires and scrap metal business - finally, it looks more like my old home, which is not the least worrisome of the case. On the front decrepit a good scaffold roots well, two-story, seeing, Paulo kidding: "wah, a bunk bed, I take the top one! "- Unfortunately it is not that far from reality .... A half-ruined lost amid the hills, very late, weird people. Reality ... The word is perhaps not very appropriate in the circumstances. In any case, difficult to speak of "realism" as you swim in the incongruity.
It is important at this stage of the story, involve two unnamed characters (no name that I know anyway), but as I may, for convenience, by following terms: "Asshole" and "crate". The latter seems to be the cops first. A physical rather difficult: Benny Hill girl with long hair torsadent (like pasta) and teeth planted randomly, all bundles in a punk-goth outfit which reminds us that the package does not like cheese. Asshole, meanwhile, is a prototype punk sedentary dog, but I do not remember very well his head, except the teeth that go beyond a grin not very cool. Both seem to be friends of Serge, or squatters, hard to say, at least they are there and well there in the house - and that's when things go wrong. Because if Serge, though much battered, seems to be a good guy, can not be said of his cronies.
The hut is a rat hole smelling piss mouse, moisture and musty smell of old Teuscher, duct of square kilometers of posters punkaille under the spider houses, especially the "living room", a mess phenomenal with sofa and armchairs grimy, low table covered with reliefs of firecrackers / condoms in their pack / stuff undetermined. Serge brings music, very loud, something that resembles Bérus, but in Basque. It goes in search of Plautus, we find two: one with a bed, another with a mattress still in its plastic wrapper (at least the bugs will not have touched ...). By tightly, you should be able to hold eight people ... Well, it's a little bad there, but nevermind (Bob Sono, somewhat irritated by the patrolling loosebroquant, self-exile in the truck), I'm exhausted, I collapse into a dark corner and in a semi-coma punctuated by music and drunken bellowing on the ground floor. Semi-coma barely disturbed by the arrival busy, next of me, and a girl Tofe bone came from Montpellier to follow us, they come to play octopus vying for the tentacles. They can also be palpated at leisure, the little noise they make is covered by the bustle of increasingly frightening amount of the ground floor.
(I'll spare you the details ...)
Except that this time, Low opens the door, haggard eyes, and loose, both anxious and a little puzzled:
- well, then we draw is the house of the psychopaths, here ...
Reconstitution:
Obviously, Pillow and his sidekick trapping could have avoided starting to pick up posters of the walls, including a giant Exploited best effect. It does not happen when you go among people. Obviously, Low could avoid starting to empty the fridge of all liquids. It does not happen when you go among people. Obviously, we would not behave as if we were in a squat. It does not happen when you go among people. Anyway, late hour, molecules in the head, it still does not know what we do ...
Asshole crate and are obviously part of the species' punk villain - after insulting everyone in turn, cause a great story and good stick, the genre that is set with a knife, also there are knives on the table, something I had not noticed earlier, they came to "I'll go get the gun, we'll do the cleaning at Punish the ... "Jav, record holder for tonight in the number of insults sustained, has also mapped out well before that, history does not blow (because it might be pretty hard for a practitioner bastons drunken, he had to learn to live and an awareness that we are not with us).
was nice to think that the Basques are warm-blooded and that not everything should be taken at face value ... It is still alarming. Slightly alarming. Especially when Cocksucker gets up to really go in search of a gun ...
alarming enough, therefore, useful to try to block it before parte lollipop serious. In a quite indescribable mess, everyone rushes to the truck and cars in front of a bewildered and ultra-Serge Stone does not understand why we are going. "You understand, finally, we will return to Toulouse, it was a job and all ... Water plants, feed the fish ....» "ooooo damage is a good laugh ... "Let
Serge among his trash crafts with her friends who like the rest of the world. The day will not soon get up and patrol will end happily loose what little remains of night sleeping in a parking lot at St. Jean De Luz. After various adventures, such as retrieving, wandering on a road, Jav, busy blowing a big tree branch to externalize his anger (good catharsis, the scope of the branch), return to the madhouse, sly, to retrieve a forgotten object ("you'll laugh, I think I left my laptop there ..."), getting lost several times (another episode of type A. Finally, a ...).. . It is Sunday morning, it's cold, it is stacked boulochent on benches that, when we could be in a country cottage, fluffy beds and all ... It's really loose competition.
Some in the truck, some in cars, a human flock who was exhausted at the finish chocolatine Sunday morning. Sunday morning ...
I did not go to sleep, too much chemistry in ecstasy. Easy to write when you have taken stimulants, and we are in a situation where there is nothing else to do but write, except maybe wait trying to catch small flying fragments of neurons flitting in every direction ...
Stall car
11:07 - difficult to focus on a specific goal or idea, apart from the cold more and more vivid that I feel inside (fatigue). If I write is even more to express an idea or emotion in particular, is just write for the writing is difficult for me to talk about the pleasure of writing (and I do not even speak of pleased to read that ...) I just
metaphors and conjectures that go too fast or too slow, and crashed in the chaos of the semi-conscious before it was made clear. And I must not seem very inspired frankly, with my hood pulled down over his eyes ....
People under
trip is said that "people who love" seem to be on a planet of their own, which the world feels more or less exiled. Well let me tell you it's bullshit, those who are really on another planet is people who have swallowed the trips. Experience: release two guts in a normal meeting. They will recognize immediately, and start talking to each other (and anyone else), exchanging curious glances telepathic and seeming to understand to a degree of consciousness that qualify modestly "different."
The most amazing is that if we repeat the same few days later, and that they talk of their meeeeeeeeeega travel, you have every chance they can get back to talking among themselves and sink again in this kind of empathy confused. And yet they are not at all, in theory, under prod.
... writing bullshit.
Monday, November 8, 2004
Different Parts Of A Shoe Diagrams
stalling cars, I (just a little "routine" like that ...)
Stall car
11:07 - difficult to focus on a goal or a clear, apart the cold more and more vivid that I feel inside (fatigue). If I write is even more to express an idea or emotion in particular, is just write for the writing is difficult for me to talk about the pleasure of writing (and I do not even speak of pleased to read that ...) I just
metaphors and conjectures that go too fast or too slow, and crashed in the chaos of the semi-conscious before it was made clear. And I must not seem very inspired frankly, with my hood pulled down over his eyes ....
People under One trip
said that "people who love" seem to be on a planet of their own, which the world feels more or less exiled. Well let me tell you it's bullshit, those who are really on another planet is people who have swallowed the trips. Experience: release two guts in a normal meeting. They will recognize immediately, and start talking to each other (and anyone else), exchanging curious glances telepathic, and seeming to understand to a degree of consciousness that qualify modestly "different."
The most amazing is that if we repeat the same few days later, and that they talk of their meeeeeeeeeega travel, you have every chance they can get back to talking among themselves and sink again in this kind of empathy confused. And yet they are not at all, in theory, under prod.
... writing bullshit.
Stall car
11:07 - difficult to focus on a goal or a clear, apart the cold more and more vivid that I feel inside (fatigue). If I write is even more to express an idea or emotion in particular, is just write for the writing is difficult for me to talk about the pleasure of writing (and I do not even speak of pleased to read that ...) I just
metaphors and conjectures that go too fast or too slow, and crashed in the chaos of the semi-conscious before it was made clear. And I must not seem very inspired frankly, with my hood pulled down over his eyes ....
People under One trip
said that "people who love" seem to be on a planet of their own, which the world feels more or less exiled. Well let me tell you it's bullshit, those who are really on another planet is people who have swallowed the trips. Experience: release two guts in a normal meeting. They will recognize immediately, and start talking to each other (and anyone else), exchanging curious glances telepathic, and seeming to understand to a degree of consciousness that qualify modestly "different."
The most amazing is that if we repeat the same few days later, and that they talk of their meeeeeeeeeega travel, you have every chance they can get back to talking among themselves and sink again in this kind of empathy confused. And yet they are not at all, in theory, under prod.
... writing bullshit.
Monday, November 1, 2004
Shortest Home Run Champion
Tigers Porcelain Limoges
(yes I know, cross-posted, but eventually the law had no place here ... I would have to add things, but for now I feel like a bit of shame over that miss A kept me company all weekend long funeral ...)
Tigers Porcelain Limoges
Friday night, went to Jabberwock, charming concert, good company and happy birthday Leah (I hope I am wrong name lol) Scorpio Power! So since it was past midnight, it was my birthday, too, so I (we) have been shamefully parasitize the champagne ...
Saturday, leaving the head in the ass road without interest. A Road Is A Road Is A Road. Polo (the mad trucker from hell) is not there, he managed to get stuck back into playing football ... Thinking moved to this victim of the war in sports! ;-). Mickey is there to replace. No, not Mickey Mouse, Mickey, the real ... Christophe Oversoul is not there, god knows that right now he is busy Rue de Douai ;-)
CCM John Lennon's amazing how it looks like a rotten MJC Exterior .... So once inside, it turns out that this is a very beautiful room, perhaps one of the most beautiful I have ever had the opportunity to see. Rules of non-Euclidean space: a much bigger inside than outside.
afternoon dawdling and swing, and Cubi plonk the fish Smoked sea, a nice itw with a young lady who we knew absolutely no one and who said the word "batcave" lol ... Interesting discussion on the current hype around Pink TV. Arrival of Lawrence (Mr. Lights) now after endless adventures in Portugal and Spain that they would be worth writing a book on it. Besides ...
meal was indescribable as GOOD. Thank you thank you thank you thank you. Pasta with salmon cream peppers, that beats all Lysanxia the world ....
Olen'k: I could see a few pieces, but it was beautiful. Strings to cry (Strings with the real people playing, I dare say the quartet, but it seems to me that it was one), an exceptional voice, amazing response, but very moving as this African singer ... I who am not very hip "heavenly," I felt to be back in full magic ... Everything came together to make this moment a bubble outside of time, I regret not being able to immerse myself as much as I wanted. Too much speed, too many things in my head for the trip.
Collection d'Arnell-Andrea, a group that I have always loved for its aesthetics as well as for his music (and I repeat myself, but basically it is not really my cup of tea, cold-wave ether), just saw the balance was going to paint ... and I regret not having seen them, really. It was re-listened Villiers-aux-vents in the truck, returning to Toulouse, for that matter. It reminded me of many memories, and for once, not bad ... (Although I prefer a little bit The Marroniers)
peinturlurage session rather quiet. Vodka, Manzana, Ouço (no, not the ouzo ouço, an imitation of Soho, lol, Audrey miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirci) (ah, those references lychee ...), No drugs except for a few poppers well camphor (Magic psychedelic trip, 12 Euro, Matabiau neighborhood sex shop, it has taken almost a week that one. I regret not having kept the bottle, it is the latter that I shared with shit ... and then, well, eternalsunshinons about it), but I have more and more difficult to treat it like the drug ... Some pump series, we'll end up like Rollins. Adrenaline testosterone cons. Lack of cocaine. Okay. Hyperventilons instead. I found my chain. I like my chain. It is jingle-jingle when I walk. "I do not nic my guitar, I am advised Miss Z.
concert: no gates. Why? Just because those organizations that had recovered were not strong enough, so dangerous, so the stage management that refused to put them. I understand a little ... Given the absence of part of the staff used to manage these problems (Christophe and Polo), no risk taking. Home a little less for the same reason (not enough people to place fast enough), even if we tried to be nice on the battery, for once .... But hey, after all, is not a fucking carnival, right? And then the beauty sepia projections 16 mm CCDA, why try to make the beautiful scene? Are there cash in the trash.
I kept my T-shirt Tagada against the general opinion, but I like it, this T-shirt, although I have kept only two songs and a half. Look zombie usual lately. I feel like a zombie, although I have no name to write on trees .... On my arms, even if it was not very visible: No Voodoo / Stepping Razor / Cheers. Stepping Razor, I want to be like the Stepping Razor ...
difficult start, no grid where cling, just alcohol and alcohol and the desire to be a thousand times more wicked than you. After a while, it ends up walking ....
I answered many fingers by satanic fuck puncaille - the only one that I never wear pentagram is the mark of my shame. Death metal, lol ...
then I do not know very well. The desire to break the fucking bottle of vodka, definitely too strong for my arm ... the desire to make me worse ... This was the best cigarette I smoked for a long time, which I do not smoke, even if I turn it back twice and twice put me in this pentacle that horrifies me and I diagonalized before the beer can, the only real weapon of scarification that wants good cut deep enough into my flesh
blood flowing, blisters, nonsensical lyrics sung instead of true. Trust and You'll Be trusted says the liar to the fool - lust, what if you're busted? In love and war There is not no rules (Type O. ...)
Do not Fear the Reaper
Do not Fear The Reaper Do not Fear the Reaper
(Blue Oyster Cult)
( Yes, our times are all gone ....)
I jump into the pit, I distributed a few blows of his shoulder poppers, I would have liked to be in trip, not enough vampires around me and too many deaths in my head. But god it feels good to have a very wild pogo ... Externalize ... Center yourself, take hits, receive ...
Wi-wi slut conscientiously people, one-man-army Viking
reminders in automatic mode, I forget where I am not quite cut out for you splash
gig, I'm not alone, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you to the band from Toulouse, thank you especially. Shower interrupted by an untimely but manly Happy Birthday ...
Then I do not know very well, hotels. Thirteen for nine places, but it did. Not much to say. & Formula, etap'hotel, all this is the same, always the same story everywhere, with some differences. "Eat breakfast". With grapefruit juice da pill, And Then it melts away in a blue substance .... they're not so true ...
And then, back to lose. Someone I know (too) much thought over the weekend, someone will at least I can talk a little pop-art, even the bulk head ... ;-))
(yes I know, cross-posted, but eventually the law had no place here ... I would have to add things, but for now I feel like a bit of shame over that miss A kept me company all weekend long funeral ...)
Tigers Porcelain Limoges
Friday night, went to Jabberwock, charming concert, good company and happy birthday Leah (I hope I am wrong name lol) Scorpio Power! So since it was past midnight, it was my birthday, too, so I (we) have been shamefully parasitize the champagne ...
Saturday, leaving the head in the ass road without interest. A Road Is A Road Is A Road. Polo (the mad trucker from hell) is not there, he managed to get stuck back into playing football ... Thinking moved to this victim of the war in sports! ;-). Mickey is there to replace. No, not Mickey Mouse, Mickey, the real ... Christophe Oversoul is not there, god knows that right now he is busy Rue de Douai ;-)
CCM John Lennon's amazing how it looks like a rotten MJC Exterior .... So once inside, it turns out that this is a very beautiful room, perhaps one of the most beautiful I have ever had the opportunity to see. Rules of non-Euclidean space: a much bigger inside than outside.
afternoon dawdling and swing, and Cubi plonk the fish Smoked sea, a nice itw with a young lady who we knew absolutely no one and who said the word "batcave" lol ... Interesting discussion on the current hype around Pink TV. Arrival of Lawrence (Mr. Lights) now after endless adventures in Portugal and Spain that they would be worth writing a book on it. Besides ...
meal was indescribable as GOOD. Thank you thank you thank you thank you. Pasta with salmon cream peppers, that beats all Lysanxia the world ....
Olen'k: I could see a few pieces, but it was beautiful. Strings to cry (Strings with the real people playing, I dare say the quartet, but it seems to me that it was one), an exceptional voice, amazing response, but very moving as this African singer ... I who am not very hip "heavenly," I felt to be back in full magic ... Everything came together to make this moment a bubble outside of time, I regret not being able to immerse myself as much as I wanted. Too much speed, too many things in my head for the trip.
Collection d'Arnell-Andrea, a group that I have always loved for its aesthetics as well as for his music (and I repeat myself, but basically it is not really my cup of tea, cold-wave ether), just saw the balance was going to paint ... and I regret not having seen them, really. It was re-listened Villiers-aux-vents in the truck, returning to Toulouse, for that matter. It reminded me of many memories, and for once, not bad ... (Although I prefer a little bit The Marroniers)
peinturlurage session rather quiet. Vodka, Manzana, Ouço (no, not the ouzo ouço, an imitation of Soho, lol, Audrey miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirci) (ah, those references lychee ...), No drugs except for a few poppers well camphor (Magic psychedelic trip, 12 Euro, Matabiau neighborhood sex shop, it has taken almost a week that one. I regret not having kept the bottle, it is the latter that I shared with shit ... and then, well, eternalsunshinons about it), but I have more and more difficult to treat it like the drug ... Some pump series, we'll end up like Rollins. Adrenaline testosterone cons. Lack of cocaine. Okay. Hyperventilons instead. I found my chain. I like my chain. It is jingle-jingle when I walk. "I do not nic my guitar, I am advised Miss Z.
concert: no gates. Why? Just because those organizations that had recovered were not strong enough, so dangerous, so the stage management that refused to put them. I understand a little ... Given the absence of part of the staff used to manage these problems (Christophe and Polo), no risk taking. Home a little less for the same reason (not enough people to place fast enough), even if we tried to be nice on the battery, for once .... But hey, after all, is not a fucking carnival, right? And then the beauty sepia projections 16 mm CCDA, why try to make the beautiful scene? Are there cash in the trash.
I kept my T-shirt Tagada against the general opinion, but I like it, this T-shirt, although I have kept only two songs and a half. Look zombie usual lately. I feel like a zombie, although I have no name to write on trees .... On my arms, even if it was not very visible: No Voodoo / Stepping Razor / Cheers. Stepping Razor, I want to be like the Stepping Razor ...
difficult start, no grid where cling, just alcohol and alcohol and the desire to be a thousand times more wicked than you. After a while, it ends up walking ....
I answered many fingers by satanic fuck puncaille - the only one that I never wear pentagram is the mark of my shame. Death metal, lol ...
then I do not know very well. The desire to break the fucking bottle of vodka, definitely too strong for my arm ... the desire to make me worse ... This was the best cigarette I smoked for a long time, which I do not smoke, even if I turn it back twice and twice put me in this pentacle that horrifies me and I diagonalized before the beer can, the only real weapon of scarification that wants good cut deep enough into my flesh
blood flowing, blisters, nonsensical lyrics sung instead of true. Trust and You'll Be trusted says the liar to the fool - lust, what if you're busted? In love and war There is not no rules (Type O. ...)
Do not Fear the Reaper
Do not Fear The Reaper Do not Fear the Reaper
(Blue Oyster Cult)
( Yes, our times are all gone ....)
I jump into the pit, I distributed a few blows of his shoulder poppers, I would have liked to be in trip, not enough vampires around me and too many deaths in my head. But god it feels good to have a very wild pogo ... Externalize ... Center yourself, take hits, receive ...
Wi-wi slut conscientiously people, one-man-army Viking
reminders in automatic mode, I forget where I am not quite cut out for you splash
gig, I'm not alone, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you to the band from Toulouse, thank you especially. Shower interrupted by an untimely but manly Happy Birthday ...
Then I do not know very well, hotels. Thirteen for nine places, but it did. Not much to say. & Formula, etap'hotel, all this is the same, always the same story everywhere, with some differences. "Eat breakfast". With grapefruit juice da pill, And Then it melts away in a blue substance .... they're not so true ...
And then, back to lose. Someone I know (too) much thought over the weekend, someone will at least I can talk a little pop-art, even the bulk head ... ;-))
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Ennama For Sonstipation
vox1969 @ 2005-05-21T00: 56:00
Briefs
tour (and other stuff spoiled)
Sports & Games foncedés (eve of z'éclectiques) The concert is long over, we must compete to be on the side of Nantes around 11 o'clock in the morning, running after everyone else on the site ... it made four or five times that I proposed C & I politely refused because it would be gluttony and that I should sleep in the truck. Of course, I end up falling on Perrine and Apricot, dealer-price-from-Euskadi, and I really do not say no, go, a little line to cap off the evening ... When it is so kindly offered
... Perrine (lovely little redhead, who has already exchanged one of my paintings four pretty blue pills cons RR now shelved in front of me in my tube guronzan, RR Rolls Royce?) aligns parallel on a CD case, after a while she noticed that by fint it fired four rails when we are five, she smiled mysteriously before releasing:
- the stuff that would be fun, it would be like musical chairs with the coke ...
- or we will makes the baston
... After some discussion on the problems of each septum (mine is diverted from birth, so that I always one nostril blocked, it is important to determine which rowenta before-the-life), the idea of musical chairs ended up taking a certain extent, and it promises to think again next time. Meanwhile, it's good, I feel like the lead-off sink, wow
were recovered throughout the world, I Speed at death, go to the children there is fluff, you're boring, t 'have taken the C or what? well yeah dude ... Go hop hop everyone in the truck pass me while I put your bags in the truck go-go-go-push-it-away we waited at the other end of the world what I am con, of c then it would sleep there it is there everyone go!
Obviously, there might be undaunted despite the fever, after an hour doing the internally ola (p'tain p'tain highway was there but if not oh but you're right but it is where ?), I end up collapsing on the floor of the truck, kiss the carpet, boy, for a few hours which is not like that very vaguely to sleep.
The Z'éclectiques the morning Eight o'clock in the morning, there is a band to return from chépers festoche (forcibly expelled by Lensers of exasperated), Don, t a lot clear enough (but not necessarily unique, in fact) to tackle the breakfast-at-will-international-class. Some tazés of fresh morning lucidity dry razor barely used, others much less, a stoned-organized squad and is needed around a table ... First hole in the sense when Gil, makeup and of course still black bezel, breaking an egg scooped buffet-international-class-a-will, exclaims, alone in the middle of a silent meditative:
- oh damn but it is hard, this egg! What
expected it exactly, and that had he done? it will forever remain a mystery.
PLAN PROPERTY MAY LOOSE MATINAL (always z'éclectiques morning)
Getting together at ten o'clock in the morning, reading an article about Jennifer Lopez in the newspaper to subscribers of Canal left on the shelf Hotel - on finding some kind of interest. Telltale sign of an intense cerebral Inactive ...
Anyway, after a certain stage, his eyes finally close to themselves, to signify that all this is an insult to the wondrous beauty of creation.
Ants (again and always z'éclectiques morning) Gil: "'Damn, I feel like ants climb over me ..."
Fatigue or not, this is a worrying sign.
Briefs
tour (and other stuff spoiled)
Sports & Games foncedés (eve of z'éclectiques) The concert is long over, we must compete to be on the side of Nantes around 11 o'clock in the morning, running after everyone else on the site ... it made four or five times that I proposed C & I politely refused because it would be gluttony and that I should sleep in the truck. Of course, I end up falling on Perrine and Apricot, dealer-price-from-Euskadi, and I really do not say no, go, a little line to cap off the evening ... When it is so kindly offered
... Perrine (lovely little redhead, who has already exchanged one of my paintings four pretty blue pills cons RR now shelved in front of me in my tube guronzan, RR Rolls Royce?) aligns parallel on a CD case, after a while she noticed that by fint it fired four rails when we are five, she smiled mysteriously before releasing:
- the stuff that would be fun, it would be like musical chairs with the coke ...
- or we will makes the baston
... After some discussion on the problems of each septum (mine is diverted from birth, so that I always one nostril blocked, it is important to determine which rowenta before-the-life), the idea of musical chairs ended up taking a certain extent, and it promises to think again next time. Meanwhile, it's good, I feel like the lead-off sink, wow
were recovered throughout the world, I Speed at death, go to the children there is fluff, you're boring, t 'have taken the C or what? well yeah dude ... Go hop hop everyone in the truck pass me while I put your bags in the truck go-go-go-push-it-away we waited at the other end of the world what I am con, of c then it would sleep there it is there everyone go!
Obviously, there might be undaunted despite the fever, after an hour doing the internally ola (p'tain p'tain highway was there but if not oh but you're right but it is where ?), I end up collapsing on the floor of the truck, kiss the carpet, boy, for a few hours which is not like that very vaguely to sleep.
The Z'éclectiques the morning Eight o'clock in the morning, there is a band to return from chépers festoche (forcibly expelled by Lensers of exasperated), Don, t a lot clear enough (but not necessarily unique, in fact) to tackle the breakfast-at-will-international-class. Some tazés of fresh morning lucidity dry razor barely used, others much less, a stoned-organized squad and is needed around a table ... First hole in the sense when Gil, makeup and of course still black bezel, breaking an egg scooped buffet-international-class-a-will, exclaims, alone in the middle of a silent meditative:
- oh damn but it is hard, this egg! What
expected it exactly, and that had he done? it will forever remain a mystery.
PLAN PROPERTY MAY LOOSE MATINAL (always z'éclectiques morning)
Getting together at ten o'clock in the morning, reading an article about Jennifer Lopez in the newspaper to subscribers of Canal left on the shelf Hotel - on finding some kind of interest. Telltale sign of an intense cerebral Inactive ...
Anyway, after a certain stage, his eyes finally close to themselves, to signify that all this is an insult to the wondrous beauty of creation.
Ants (again and always z'éclectiques morning) Gil: "'Damn, I feel like ants climb over me ..."
Fatigue or not, this is a worrying sign.
Monday, October 11, 2004
Car Towing Trailers Northern Ireland
Amalio
Probably the biggest crap you can do: let people die as if nothing had happened, out of pure cowardice by refusing to face the thing ...
Amalio was not really a friend, but a pal close enough so that we have made many Zique together (trance-rock-neo-prog-jazz-experimental-baba, under names as attractive as "Udeshi Burkhan" in the neo-tribal, or "Concierge Lama" in the style I-de-l'humour), prepared an exhibit in a DJC hallucinatory rotten, organized a meal shaman (only that, it would be an entire chapter, the buffalo stew with herbs and Mongolian traders came to the restaurant by chance), and some other crap ... Amalio Rodriguez's style, he did not understand why it made me laugh (I think he did not know Amalia Rodriguez but today is souveint Amalia Rodriguez?), I think he liked me, he was an excellent puree, AIDS has burst. I took a long
to understand that her HIV, in fact I must be the only one who did not (aware), I also post some thoughts on very sorry "we do not die from the flu" when He complained that he had to return home by bike and it was cold. True, he was cold. Anyway, I finally understand, without the need to focus too heavily. I thought it would not change much in my head, anyway I wanted. Until he was hospitalized, and when I eclipsed like shit. It fell in a crisis of "I nothing to fuck" with the rest of the "group" shaman-rock, good excuse for me to scroll ... I not even try to get news about his condition, what good, c That was long before the triple combination, then, is dying quickly and well.
Damn what am I wanted after. Remorse, regret, flash Amalio telling her good-new-years-years-in-letters-of-coke (you know, it's easier to stop the coconut that quit "), is complainant's view of some of his friends supposedly cool its gay couple getaway plagiarist (" but why is that the gene we kiss "), explaining laboriously choreographed smokers (dancer marital status, for real) ... The k7 where he recorded a" HIV has nabbed "that paralyzed me ... the shouting matches over Bowie, which I found too pop at the time (it was his god and I was not already converted), discussions on non-ontological abstraction of dance ("but wait Balinese dance is hyper-abstract "), his friends riv-riv (special mention to drummer who could play the rhumba that if he had a techno beat in the ears, but "Even light, eh, the boom-boom") ...
I dragged it like a long shot, I am treated to fuck, I was far below.
Learned much later qu'Amalio died almost three years after the time I thought it best to disappear from his life, and I had spent all that time to blame me for having let someone die alone while he was alive and actually being alone ... die
I think liked me.
Probably the biggest crap you can do: let people die as if nothing had happened, out of pure cowardice by refusing to face the thing ...
Amalio was not really a friend, but a pal close enough so that we have made many Zique together (trance-rock-neo-prog-jazz-experimental-baba, under names as attractive as "Udeshi Burkhan" in the neo-tribal, or "Concierge Lama" in the style I-de-l'humour), prepared an exhibit in a DJC hallucinatory rotten, organized a meal shaman (only that, it would be an entire chapter, the buffalo stew with herbs and Mongolian traders came to the restaurant by chance), and some other crap ... Amalio Rodriguez's style, he did not understand why it made me laugh (I think he did not know Amalia Rodriguez but today is souveint Amalia Rodriguez?), I think he liked me, he was an excellent puree, AIDS has burst. I took a long
to understand that her HIV, in fact I must be the only one who did not (aware), I also post some thoughts on very sorry "we do not die from the flu" when He complained that he had to return home by bike and it was cold. True, he was cold. Anyway, I finally understand, without the need to focus too heavily. I thought it would not change much in my head, anyway I wanted. Until he was hospitalized, and when I eclipsed like shit. It fell in a crisis of "I nothing to fuck" with the rest of the "group" shaman-rock, good excuse for me to scroll ... I not even try to get news about his condition, what good, c That was long before the triple combination, then, is dying quickly and well.
Damn what am I wanted after. Remorse, regret, flash Amalio telling her good-new-years-years-in-letters-of-coke (you know, it's easier to stop the coconut that quit "), is complainant's view of some of his friends supposedly cool its gay couple getaway plagiarist (" but why is that the gene we kiss "), explaining laboriously choreographed smokers (dancer marital status, for real) ... The k7 where he recorded a" HIV has nabbed "that paralyzed me ... the shouting matches over Bowie, which I found too pop at the time (it was his god and I was not already converted), discussions on non-ontological abstraction of dance ("but wait Balinese dance is hyper-abstract "), his friends riv-riv (special mention to drummer who could play the rhumba that if he had a techno beat in the ears, but "Even light, eh, the boom-boom") ...
I dragged it like a long shot, I am treated to fuck, I was far below.
Learned much later qu'Amalio died almost three years after the time I thought it best to disappear from his life, and I had spent all that time to blame me for having let someone die alone while he was alive and actually being alone ... die
I think liked me.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
How Does Suction Help
Another loser (Nicolas)
Evening in Yellow, a bar owned by one of many Mafia son the "patriarch" Engelmayer, I stroll a glass in hand to see if there is not the world I know ... From knowledge to knowledge, nothing decisive. Suddenly, I came across a ghost, not seen in a long time since high school, actually - Nicolas, who holds in one hand and a goblet of red in the other that of a young girl smiling .
Nicolas, 16, not very gifted student in a class mostly brilliant son of a high school teacher - rather small, a year early, often uncomfortable with friends who like him without really looking to understand.
Pretty little couple, they are smiling like lovebirds cartoon. I make him sign, it does not recognize me now (my long hair from school, turned into plastic-locks, and a few kilo less), and that's just if I do not fall into the arms ...
Must say that was very close to the time of weltschmertz disoriented, nightlife, stencil-on-the-walls-of-school, listening to tapes of intensive Stooges / Blue Oyster Cult / Virgin Prunes, we ' is even found to record some stuff so we improvised play did not know anything ... With and an old magneto-related Bontempi, something to pass Costes for a funny (in my memory anyway, but there is no trace, I can say what I want).
Nicolas, 17, alcohol / Teusch on the increase, tend to behave more nawak-stylee watered in the evenings, unhappiness. Runs like a glove with cold-waveux Reubeu make acquaintance in the dope. Gradually, insults all his friends without a pretext understandable, does more T-shirts with short sleeves.
I asked if Samir review, I said no, Samir has had to steer after stories with guys, you-see-it kind. Samir bin Mohammed, who put the Death In june thoroughly to piss off his neighbors, where Klaus Barbie, where Klaus Barbie, I will always remember the heads of students who landed with him and that he did discover it, " I swear, it's an Arab Nazi, "and when he brought the German Neubauten under the pretext that it was pure poetry, never managed to remember what song it was exactly, but it would Syncope been renamed to headquarters ...
Nicolas 18, does not touch with other misfits, and resembles increasingly physically and morally, to Helno of green Negresses.
We discuss things and others, it tells me two or three things that confirm the feedback I had the tom-tom areas (train, Croatia ...), while continuing arms over- in arm with which everything seems to be his girlfriend ... it is a pleasure to see him with somebody, damn it feels pleasure ...
Nicolas, 21, succeeds in being hit by a train while walking, while foncedé along a railway track. The driver was able to slow down, only six months in hospital. After a pitiful attempt to return to study, voluntary enlistment in the military, peacekeeper in Croatia. Why does he have taken? On the way, it is an unstable depressed, vaguely hérotox, much alcohol - in return is a wreck ..
After a while he realizes that he has not made me, laughed (a little nervously, he laughs Mouse cartoon) turns to her and said, showing it closed with his hand on the cup red-
About, Vincent, p'tain'm too rude, j'te presents ...
White.
White.
White. Smiling
chipped drowning in a half-laugh cut short.
- Uh ... Too bad, then you'll laugh ... You make me remember what's your name ...
And he laughed as if nothing had happened, looking as if it were normal, a laugh that abuts against a face suddenly became cold and gradually returns to a
(awkward silence) Total Plan
loose. Not seen since
Nicolas. But frankly, I prefer, although it's sad.
Evening in Yellow, a bar owned by one of many Mafia son the "patriarch" Engelmayer, I stroll a glass in hand to see if there is not the world I know ... From knowledge to knowledge, nothing decisive. Suddenly, I came across a ghost, not seen in a long time since high school, actually - Nicolas, who holds in one hand and a goblet of red in the other that of a young girl smiling .
Nicolas, 16, not very gifted student in a class mostly brilliant son of a high school teacher - rather small, a year early, often uncomfortable with friends who like him without really looking to understand.
Pretty little couple, they are smiling like lovebirds cartoon. I make him sign, it does not recognize me now (my long hair from school, turned into plastic-locks, and a few kilo less), and that's just if I do not fall into the arms ...
Must say that was very close to the time of weltschmertz disoriented, nightlife, stencil-on-the-walls-of-school, listening to tapes of intensive Stooges / Blue Oyster Cult / Virgin Prunes, we ' is even found to record some stuff so we improvised play did not know anything ... With and an old magneto-related Bontempi, something to pass Costes for a funny (in my memory anyway, but there is no trace, I can say what I want).
Nicolas, 17, alcohol / Teusch on the increase, tend to behave more nawak-stylee watered in the evenings, unhappiness. Runs like a glove with cold-waveux Reubeu make acquaintance in the dope. Gradually, insults all his friends without a pretext understandable, does more T-shirts with short sleeves.
I asked if Samir review, I said no, Samir has had to steer after stories with guys, you-see-it kind. Samir bin Mohammed, who put the Death In june thoroughly to piss off his neighbors, where Klaus Barbie, where Klaus Barbie, I will always remember the heads of students who landed with him and that he did discover it, " I swear, it's an Arab Nazi, "and when he brought the German Neubauten under the pretext that it was pure poetry, never managed to remember what song it was exactly, but it would Syncope been renamed to headquarters ...
Nicolas 18, does not touch with other misfits, and resembles increasingly physically and morally, to Helno of green Negresses.
We discuss things and others, it tells me two or three things that confirm the feedback I had the tom-tom areas (train, Croatia ...), while continuing arms over- in arm with which everything seems to be his girlfriend ... it is a pleasure to see him with somebody, damn it feels pleasure ...
Nicolas, 21, succeeds in being hit by a train while walking, while foncedé along a railway track. The driver was able to slow down, only six months in hospital. After a pitiful attempt to return to study, voluntary enlistment in the military, peacekeeper in Croatia. Why does he have taken? On the way, it is an unstable depressed, vaguely hérotox, much alcohol - in return is a wreck ..
After a while he realizes that he has not made me, laughed (a little nervously, he laughs Mouse cartoon) turns to her and said, showing it closed with his hand on the cup red-
About, Vincent, p'tain'm too rude, j'te presents ...
White.
White.
White. Smiling
chipped drowning in a half-laugh cut short.
- Uh ... Too bad, then you'll laugh ... You make me remember what's your name ...
And he laughed as if nothing had happened, looking as if it were normal, a laugh that abuts against a face suddenly became cold and gradually returns to a
(awkward silence) Total Plan
loose. Not seen since
Nicolas. But frankly, I prefer, although it's sad.
Saturday, October 9, 2004
Looking For Wooden Trash Bins For The Kitchen
Quentin Kung Fu
Quentin Kung Fu
Initially, everyone called him Quentin, logic is his first name. Then it became "Quentin No Evil" for certain (because the question "are you", he always answered consistently "pretty") and "Kung Fu" for other, more and more numerous. Funny how a simple nickname can synthesize the drift of an individual facing the world. Now, it's called "The Pylon," often because they do not even know he had a name one day.
Quentin is the guy who did not drink and did not smoke when he arrived in the big city. Now it catches up to everyone, not to say that was squarely over-the-top: consumption of Teusch sufficient to repay the debt of Mexico. Never mind the rest. Nothing extraordinary, but quantity XL. On a balanced psyche, it can go, except that Quentin, his thing is not to have a balanced psyche or life if only one-third normal, to meditate alone and do kung- East fu master. Ash has been falling slowly in autism stupefied, without understanding what was happening or be able to do much, what do you want to do when a friend goes with you, are edging into the couch like a stiff lying eyes and stays there stationary for hours, smiling a little now and then just moving the fingers to roll? Pilow Vox and attended the same kind of scenes, which passes with Quentin Teuch, the whole night to say a word every hour that passes if another asks' How are you? "He says, still on the same tone, day after day, "not bad", before re-enter inside ....
One day, Quentin became tej kung-fu: too violent, too stoned, too upset, he removed the jaw to a guy. It was a little surprised everybody, what if his usual Zen. As part rolling of firecrackers, it was about his only social activity, he was able to work extra hard on meditation. Well, it took thirty kilogram in recent years has not changed for ten years gabardine, goes every Friday and Saturday night in the same bar where he speaks to no one and stands beside a pillar, until closing, beer after beer, if someone asks, "are you". Is he really say shit in the glue, both where he slipped into the pad of hair babes in this house-birthday-two-days-sleeping-in-place and they took him out as they could, he has crossed into the wild with a gun what was hanging over the fireplace, the name of god, how fucking scared, do not speak to me again never again this type is how you end up cutting himself off from everyone.
Stare, lost to the world, no friends, never had a chick. The pylon.
Once, a gang of neusk went into the bar with their marcel marquis, a tattoo artist who's farts because it was decorated Jean-Paul Gaultier once. There were only Quentin alone at the bar for once. Quentin is the kind balèze to look ultra-hard, normal, look in the other world, then Touintouin, King of the needle, went to see it to drink, even the arms-stretched-to-Europe »are in when they get bored easy. Except that Quentin, he not want to be fuck when he looks behind the veil of Isis when he mug in the throat with two fingers, looks super-fixed and said articulating well, a weird tone schoolboy reciting a poem:
- It's Saturday night, I came alone to drink a beer, then I want them to let me drink my beer alone.
And his eyes are so cold and hard, his hand clenched so that the other answers "yes sir" and breaks with his clique, because this fucking bastard, he made them afraid.
It's like that, Quentin, since he has more friends, no life, nothing, just a raincoat, the same, always, he reteint black from time to time.
Quentin Kung Fu
Initially, everyone called him Quentin, logic is his first name. Then it became "Quentin No Evil" for certain (because the question "are you", he always answered consistently "pretty") and "Kung Fu" for other, more and more numerous. Funny how a simple nickname can synthesize the drift of an individual facing the world. Now, it's called "The Pylon," often because they do not even know he had a name one day.
Quentin is the guy who did not drink and did not smoke when he arrived in the big city. Now it catches up to everyone, not to say that was squarely over-the-top: consumption of Teusch sufficient to repay the debt of Mexico. Never mind the rest. Nothing extraordinary, but quantity XL. On a balanced psyche, it can go, except that Quentin, his thing is not to have a balanced psyche or life if only one-third normal, to meditate alone and do kung- East fu master. Ash has been falling slowly in autism stupefied, without understanding what was happening or be able to do much, what do you want to do when a friend goes with you, are edging into the couch like a stiff lying eyes and stays there stationary for hours, smiling a little now and then just moving the fingers to roll? Pilow Vox and attended the same kind of scenes, which passes with Quentin Teuch, the whole night to say a word every hour that passes if another asks' How are you? "He says, still on the same tone, day after day, "not bad", before re-enter inside ....
One day, Quentin became tej kung-fu: too violent, too stoned, too upset, he removed the jaw to a guy. It was a little surprised everybody, what if his usual Zen. As part rolling of firecrackers, it was about his only social activity, he was able to work extra hard on meditation. Well, it took thirty kilogram in recent years has not changed for ten years gabardine, goes every Friday and Saturday night in the same bar where he speaks to no one and stands beside a pillar, until closing, beer after beer, if someone asks, "are you". Is he really say shit in the glue, both where he slipped into the pad of hair babes in this house-birthday-two-days-sleeping-in-place and they took him out as they could, he has crossed into the wild with a gun what was hanging over the fireplace, the name of god, how fucking scared, do not speak to me again never again this type is how you end up cutting himself off from everyone.
Stare, lost to the world, no friends, never had a chick. The pylon.
Once, a gang of neusk went into the bar with their marcel marquis, a tattoo artist who's farts because it was decorated Jean-Paul Gaultier once. There were only Quentin alone at the bar for once. Quentin is the kind balèze to look ultra-hard, normal, look in the other world, then Touintouin, King of the needle, went to see it to drink, even the arms-stretched-to-Europe »are in when they get bored easy. Except that Quentin, he not want to be fuck when he looks behind the veil of Isis when he mug in the throat with two fingers, looks super-fixed and said articulating well, a weird tone schoolboy reciting a poem:
- It's Saturday night, I came alone to drink a beer, then I want them to let me drink my beer alone.
And his eyes are so cold and hard, his hand clenched so that the other answers "yes sir" and breaks with his clique, because this fucking bastard, he made them afraid.
It's like that, Quentin, since he has more friends, no life, nothing, just a raincoat, the same, always, he reteint black from time to time.
Headaches From Tampons
vox1969 @ 2005-05-21T15: 32:00
The Loose
Lose, lose status, being a scumbag, the kind that sits on the sidewalk, complaining that it has not helped and that life c 'is crap .. Should normally be spelled "lose" (from the verb To Lose, cf. Born To Lose, Loser ...), but the "graphisation Oral practice "(or vice versa, will know), popularized the spelling loose, looser, loose. (Sliding interesting from the standpoint of meaning, meaning Loose "released", "coward", wave ...)
The "Loose" is the state's loser, who is Born-To-Lose, whom he does Sometimes shit, acting like a turd, which collects large disappointment when he sees further muddles and small when it's low profile. State of fact, lifestyle.
The loser is usually enough time volunteer in his failures, with problems that take more than the act failed (loose) that bad luck, but never stops blaming a hostile universe kind of villain-with-him (in German text). There are also some unintended losers, who should all be successful, which empower and merdent anyway. Whose fault is it? Murphy's fault ... (See "Murphy's Law")
The loser is a loser is socially accepted ('what a loser, that is, "she said with a smile") is a real hardcore loser, the one which says it is pathetic , shabby or "crap". The first engender some sympathy (probably due to the fact that compared to them, you feel less self loser Similarly, or so some perverse attraction, if one is oneself or loser-loser wannabe), the latter, repulsion. Category
deluxe: the beautiful loser, who prefer beauty and shit like crashing a Boeing rather than live as reasonably everybody ... can lead others in his fall, or otherwise try to fall faster for protect. Do not make everyone laugh. Loose
Plan: plan that we know will end badly or indifferently. Close enough to "plan galley, with the difference that the plan galley was not foreseeable - While the plane loose, just announced it.
Square The Loose
Each city has its Place Of Loose. In Toulouse, it is up Belfort, Bayard area, near train station, with its half-smashed whores, bums and its marginal various ordnance more than each other at eight o'clock in the morning and all day, its punk dog undergoing total dereliction, micro-society of losers run, a ruthless cult of youth - the elderly have long understood that it was not a good stay there. Square Loose, there's always a few degrees warmer than normal (summer) or a little colder (in winter). Place the loose, if someone asks you a fag, you may give it less by compassion than by desire to finish. But instead of the loose, if you see a chick with vacant eyes to hitchhike in the middle of the street, you do not take her because you do not want to crap.
Law of Loose inverse proportional: the more a loser goes into the category "pathetic wreck of shit", unless he is aware of his condition. Unless he is conscious of things in general ...
The Loose
Lose, lose status, being a scumbag, the kind that sits on the sidewalk, complaining that it has not helped and that life c 'is crap .. Should normally be spelled "lose" (from the verb To Lose, cf. Born To Lose, Loser ...), but the "graphisation Oral practice "(or vice versa, will know), popularized the spelling loose, looser, loose. (Sliding interesting from the standpoint of meaning, meaning Loose "released", "coward", wave ...)
The "Loose" is the state's loser, who is Born-To-Lose, whom he does Sometimes shit, acting like a turd, which collects large disappointment when he sees further muddles and small when it's low profile. State of fact, lifestyle.
The loser is usually enough time volunteer in his failures, with problems that take more than the act failed (loose) that bad luck, but never stops blaming a hostile universe kind of villain-with-him (in German text). There are also some unintended losers, who should all be successful, which empower and merdent anyway. Whose fault is it? Murphy's fault ... (See "Murphy's Law")
The loser is a loser is socially accepted ('what a loser, that is, "she said with a smile") is a real hardcore loser, the one which says it is pathetic , shabby or "crap". The first engender some sympathy (probably due to the fact that compared to them, you feel less self loser Similarly, or so some perverse attraction, if one is oneself or loser-loser wannabe), the latter, repulsion. Category
deluxe: the beautiful loser, who prefer beauty and shit like crashing a Boeing rather than live as reasonably everybody ... can lead others in his fall, or otherwise try to fall faster for protect. Do not make everyone laugh. Loose
Plan: plan that we know will end badly or indifferently. Close enough to "plan galley, with the difference that the plan galley was not foreseeable - While the plane loose, just announced it.
Square The Loose
Each city has its Place Of Loose. In Toulouse, it is up Belfort, Bayard area, near train station, with its half-smashed whores, bums and its marginal various ordnance more than each other at eight o'clock in the morning and all day, its punk dog undergoing total dereliction, micro-society of losers run, a ruthless cult of youth - the elderly have long understood that it was not a good stay there. Square Loose, there's always a few degrees warmer than normal (summer) or a little colder (in winter). Place the loose, if someone asks you a fag, you may give it less by compassion than by desire to finish. But instead of the loose, if you see a chick with vacant eyes to hitchhike in the middle of the street, you do not take her because you do not want to crap.
Law of Loose inverse proportional: the more a loser goes into the category "pathetic wreck of shit", unless he is aware of his condition. Unless he is conscious of things in general ...
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Can A Kidney Stone Become Lodged In Urethra
little introductory message
this is an LJ "secret", well in any case reserved "to a few people who realize that perhaps his life, my LJ" official "becoming a monitored too ....
must still have the mania to watch his friend-list lol
this is an LJ "secret", well in any case reserved "to a few people who realize that perhaps his life, my LJ" official "becoming a monitored too ....
must still have the mania to watch his friend-list lol
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