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the mole mystery.

A day like any other, while I pondered on Life, Death, The Future. Brief on all these questions, riddles, mysterious and unfathomable. A somewhat more rational thought came to my mind.

I had m'épile emergency. Underarms and bikini line. (Elegance and poetry)

Us Currencies my body and me on the most appropriate way for us to embark on this adventure.

By mutual agreement with myself (it's so rare), I got up and headed straight to the bathroom I was locked so as not to be disturbed.

Raking the Lotus Flower (or sleeve to Braquemart) and the rest was sacred, it was unwise to disturb. (Elegance and poetry)

I found myself soon naked as a zucchini about to be cut into pieces, and caught the mirror I put ashore before crouch over. (Elegance and poetry!)

I faced the hard reality, telling me that I was human, and began to brush my hair removal cream. When my eyes fell on the region's most southerly of my reproductive system. (Elegance, finesse and poetry!)

"My God. A mole? Here?!"

What a discovery.

"But it's been you that you're here?"

Glamour.

"What elegance! I could not ask for more! "

Ecstasy. I was on the cu *. (style, skills, poetry)

And I found myself soon, boomboom gleefully pointed out, with the depilatory cream to me talking to herself. Or to speak to this wonderful beauty spot that could only be of the order of the divine to be at a place as conducive to improper glances.

Suffice to say that is was a pretty rediscovery, and I asks whether Bodies for more surprises like this in reserve.

And I feel that this text will be remembered. (this is the case to say ...)




(For a history of buttocks as well go all the way, Wolf and thank you for that image, which corresponds very well to the context ^ ^)

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Look at the stars.

She quietly opened the window of his room. Remuèrent curtains feebly, he vaguely recalling the ghosts of his childhood. She received the night wind in his face and a sigh of well-being, she peered into the night indecent.

It seemed that it was the kingdom of the dead, land unrecognizable and impassable for the living. So much the better, because it was a dead woman in particular she addressed her feelings tonight.

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was little she thought that the clouds could be affected fingertips, she believed that once dead, the soul of the deceased went to a star to live.

's eyes narrowed and she is Malhi then saw several stars appear before his eyes teary.

Mom.

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malhicias @ 2008-09-12T20: 08:00

"I am the sinister adolescent, who is biding his time, and placed before the window of his room. I am the prince deprived of his as a child, the angel kicked out of his innocence. I'm the one who asked for nothing, that which was thrown into the world, one we was ejected from the womb comforting and warm for cold weather inherent in the world. "

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It started slowly. With the sound of violins creative and emotional. Melancholy by friction of the bow on the strings. By the long agony of the instrument, which was repeated again and again. And then suddenly it was as if the body itself is made violin. He did violence to the rise endlessly in the treble, while the sadness itself turned into a tenor voice in the heart. Her rose, rose. As inevitable as life and death. Then, after the slow agony of the instruments, "said the calm place.

(written a few weeks ago)

And Phoenix had more and more ashamed of what he wrote, his lack of modesty.

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Preview.

In light of the night.


"This title has a taste of romance, a utopian novel in history and that only happens once in a man's life. "She thought as she typed the words at full speed.

[...]

Part I:

When I made my first step out of my host family, was to watch the world such as I had been always hidden. Unusual and colorful. Tasty but equally frightening in its elusive nuances. A world of human beings so painful and descriptive of the eyes of a nine year old girl.

It was just a simple walk with Louise to go for lunch in a local market on Saturdays. It was the first time I set foot out of the stifling heat, but so reassuring to my room. And since that day I was thinking only one thing: I shall not live for anything else. I live for it, this world and its occupants, and the bright sun warming the frozen concrete of the night. My life

There is nothing exceptional, though it finds its uniqueness in its duration. It told me as soon as I was old enough to understand. My life will be short because my body is not tough. It was the only thing I knew because Louise told me too young to know the truth that some had difficulty swallowing. I could not express the feelings that took me to this, knowing that I would not live enough to make babies. However, the innocence of childhood is the worst pain can be alleviated and thus can begin to really live through.

My childhood that was it. A From nine years, and during walks home. Loneliness and unexplained fatigue. Bites and writing. Words that sting the mind and the sheet. I was not a bad schoolgirl, the courses taught at home were I was all attention to me. Everything was easy and I never felt the need to make friends. Louise told me just before his death that was probably my health, which had forged my character alone and independent. I did not need anyone to live. However, I watched the world was moving under my eyes with a curious eye and calm. My trips Louise were real expeditions for me than the rest of the family did not like much.




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A day like any other.

The girl rushed out of the car with a long sigh in the bunch, the head of a Buddhist monk.

"No way, a half-hour ride across to find a parking place!" she exclaimed.

She turned toward the aisle of the huge parking lot of Ikea. Several cars were the "in-place", or were going backwards, god only knows how this anthill vehicle crachottants and horn.

Malhi finally turned his gaze to the store.

"Well, I am curious to know the country of origin of the creator of the international tote! she thought, eying the yellow and blue building whose entrance was adorned with a flag just as yellow and blue.

"Dad, we are still in France, in Brittany, in Finistère, is not it?"

"..."

"Just like that."

They marched, the niece of 10 years trotting merrily like a little colt Cahottes and heckling (chugging).

She was not alone, Malhi opened his eyes, his ears, and everything else to listen to moaning brats and disputing:

"Mom i want to ride on the carousel with the horses!"

"Mama when do we get home?"

"Dad, my feet hurt!" - Dad I'm thirsty and I want to do pipiiiii! "

They waited until the three other family members joined them, counting them among the smallest of three years. ("My god! It will give us the shot too!"). They then entered the journaise ikéaisque Malhi found that very soon in a gasp and a beating brow with coconut-bel-eye.

They saw all sorts of people.

Cowards "Alleluja! I've FINALLY found! "

Parents worried:" Hold tight to the hand chick my mom! "

Other parents pourque was, unfortunately, too late:" LE PETIT JULE LOOKS TO HIS PARENTS 'HOME! "

Lovers, inevitable and full of romanticism in France this Swedish (or Swedish Finistère):" Baby, what do you think of this sofa? For the show, not bad? "-" Yeah, but I prefer the beds ... there ..."- "Have you no shame? Hihihi ..."- "Hehehe ..." And the eternal

impatient: "If we must spend 10 minutes to 10 cm was not finished!"
Malhi
thought that the world saw an average 10 cm was very honorable. They jostled, chewed on it. The kids stopped every 30 seconds to try all the sofas or beds in the store. Parents stopped every 10 seconds to check the prices of so-called couches or beds. Malhi

And mingled in all these people, already tired by the heat from the others. In addition she was bored. Then it was all good literature, she hastened to check if the books adorning the furniture sales were real books.

truths, and she thought absently as though someone was making fun of her ** Gueu on seeing this with a book spread out for miles and inches chariabia Swedish.

books were they on sale?!

She looked up at the road signs overhanging furniture, cookers ...

- Sofa BEDDINGE HAVET
- Furniture FORHOJA
-Series - Kitchen Series GRUNDTAL-

She felt no bewildered.

The visit lasted an hour or more. There were even plants with equally strange names, but it was the Latin this time. Malhi and when they thought it was released without spending as without or without Frustration fainting, or losing one of the kids ...

"Mom! I lost my Dudu!" whining little 3 year whose eyes did water and whose mouth had heart.

'Damn ...'

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shoes. Fashion

Today I was walking around downtown so that I dig up a pair of heels, mine have had their day (ie two years). Their heels worn her, I am even more ridiculous than usual when I walk on the pavement, and they let in water, fill a pair of boots!

But I have not found. It's incredible, I believe that is the first time I am as conscious of fashion. I entered the first store and the selection was limited to ballerinas and conversation. The second, ballerinas and conversation. The third, and ballerina shoes with high heels for postmenopausal (store your revolvers in their fifties and older).

The third store was very typical (atypical for a town like mine), with a nice showcase, a pretty salesgirl. It sounds spacious from the outside but once you put your foot inside it seems that the store has shrunk, and the choice of footwear with.

No shoes with heels said, as I say, thick heels, good heels that I do not démolierais ankle while walking on the pavement. Only the dancers, it seems that women have suddenly centimeters to pray more and within a few months, and that wearing heels is strictly prohibited. Or they are all apprentice dancers, always ready for the big gap or caper with pretty ballerinas, green, pink, black.

(I ballerinas, but the cross and the banner to take all day in, my foot that made the face when I retired with a gasp of relief looooooong (enjoyment?)).

They have even pushed the vice and made REAL ballet dancers, with the ribbon that you sausage ankle and the tip of the tip actually FOOTWEAR! I imagined the girl in jeans, tank top and fidgeted like a little rat opera before her boyfriend totally disappointed. I'm baffled

. No shoes for me. I found myself as the green giant in the land of Smurfs.

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write.

Go, a little effort. Take the pencil with liberating the mine on paper immaculate. And slowly draw long arabesques and elegant in its awkwardness. Bedtime words like you on the mattress of your anxieties, and run ink as the tears from your eyes. Writing, again, again and again.

If you do not want to cry because of your shame, then write. Filled the pages of all this filth filthy, all that crap that you fouled more. You can even insult you, write you you're a little idiot, the paper and the words you forgive. They keep the secret. It is between you and them, between the book and your mood. You may feel scorn, hits full Fouer like a bullet in the heart of an animal having just (re) raise.

But the core is solid and the ball temporarily. Only the scars remain.

It's like when you're going to walk, while the wind icy breath until thee bone chilling. He could make you sick or kill you, but then breathe out loud to use this wind to move and live.

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Midnight Poison.

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Ahlalala Eva ... ** In Love ** I have a bug as soon as I see this video.

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Moment.

she sat on the edge of the platform and spread his legs aching from the long walk she had done. She put her iPod and took off his headphones to hear what was happening around her.

The lapping of the water flowing in its bed is not confused with the bystanders and the sound of seagulls. She watched the cars and scooters that noisy traffic on the bridge while the bell rang softly in the distance. The sun blinded her eyes went down softly shining its last rays of the calm waters of Elorn.

In this gentle hubbub she finally realized what was happening.

She had just (re) fall in love. And really it seems.

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Why? For What? For Who? Dialogue with

[The visceral need is felt to write. I hand over the word agile and flexible with my mind. My pen fly on sheet the image of a young skater a little too crazy.]


Having faced death. The nearest and closest. Then the sadness that results. Having endured loneliness and pain of his acolytes still. After making love with full force, never to be fooled. After death, again, again and again. Even bruised, dirty, trampled by the mockery. Riddled with lies. Only one thing remained: his heart beat, always such a sweet melody that was not ready to stop. She persisted, as light as the notes of a piano that stays in your head for hours and hours.

But why? For whom?

To try to find the missing part. This piece of the puzzle that is missing from his life's work. To find this missing piece, like a missing twin. Find and be one.

At these thoughts she smiled while her eyes were drowned in the contemplation of the River. Even after the disheartening discovery of unattainable love, she was still there. It may be too looked back, but it was to work backwards: to admire the past and better understand the future.