Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Siarczan Miedzi Sadza


Apparently [info] bellz_v has closed its livejournal. Or what has sold or given away, as he did with Deviantart, or may have deleted all the photos and decided to start over. In any case, something like this was coming. In any case, it remains a pity, all that talent, scenes, pictures, images that almost came from another era or another world. Vladlena and Mike and Margaret and everything around them. Period
changes. I'm going to miss.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Maytag Performa Pavt234aww Spec

The sooner
speak ...
reminds me that I wrote and which was called "Fluorescent Adolescent." But I'm more positive now.

The smell of the sea came cool night breeze swirling who climbed the rocks to where they were two of them. Velvet blue sky and the stars appearing and disappearing between sips of beer. Sand in the toes and the reflection of the moon sailing on the water.

She soon sighed, long and from within, as if he had retained the breath all the time.

"I feel more" she said. He looked

, acomod in the silence that had a little sharing. She lifted the bottle of beer, that could be glimpsed in the dark amber.

"Drinking beer is higher.

He replied with a shrug.

"We have only eighteen.

She swung her bare legs on the edge of the cliff. Under the soles of the feet, the sea was rocking and gentle waves breaking against the rocks.

"Nineteen," she corrected, leaving the beer on the ground but the fingers unscrew the bottle neck. Almost nineteen.

was collected hair behind her ear and saidTMLXC

He leaned to one side. A little slow. Just to rub arm throwing arm and feel chills run down his spine.

- Do you think we're growing? He asked. She moved her legs again. The tufts of hair on his shoulders turned.

I do not know. I hope not. Peter Pan made us promise.

waves splashed their feet in the dark. He raised his beer, almost empty.

"In any case ...

When she looked, her eyes sparkled. He raised his bottle tambiény the toast of the two panes rangabsurdly hard on the sound of the sea.

Clipart Of Carati Man Write, dammit, he writes.

aba hand to his chest, or below, where just the ribs, and I imagine a point, a black hole, something pequeñoy secret that hurt if you tried to bring to light. It hurts even if only chases. Writing
trying to get there. A strange place where we do not know ourselves. I keep trying. Step by step, too slow, maybe, but I'm still in it. So
publish. I do not know when or what, because I'm very good at making promises and then making me pee in them, but good. At least Bralex still running, and yes I assure you. Sooner or later, will por here.