Nimeni nu face parte din societate , societatea e numai o mica parte din noi.

vineri, 5 octombrie 2012

3 comentarii:

  1. Your Grace,

    No this time not me? La Fee Blanc died! La Fee Blanche live!

    In fact, I am inclined to believe that they are unable to make an artistic design. We drafts of novels, short stories, fairy tales, correspondence. I have not gone to completion, because I express myself rather confessional, like a diary. Are sincere.

    I know, it's suspect can direct and conscious sincerity. Like a second-class literature. Everything I wrote is detached from the log. I thought so: diary is man talk, call, cry, fight, wants to persuade and convince. It is "very much alive" and very complex. It's human film. My journal's site, a land of literary experience, a technique of confession.

    Therefore, everything I write is exactly the same man who wrote human. You'll laugh, but I really think that in a past life I met a man and I have not looked before. Not now. I do not remember the name, just smile, eyes. I think he was reincarnated and is out there somewhere. Not you! It's another you or me, or is R, or e D. See? Only letters! All letters, only letters! Their actual order is returned alphabet R, M, D hurts my soul in these letters sold for a small amount of love forged.

    "I miss" I read that the "n" word! So say otherwise: "I miss you" But I heard that! Words are indeed worthless. To me, but also silences are worthless, that my letters were delivered in silence or silent shades and the happiest arrived to M.

    They persisted today to jump me and took all before the appearance of humans on earth. And laugh! I laugh and I do not have no choice! All three are kirkeriens deformable mirrors where I see ugly, guilty, killed. Medusa! And dreaming? Who? Alone, all alone, all alone, among all the hurricanes on earth! Someone cares? Heiii! Yuhuu! Hear me! In vain! Everyone hears only his own cry! Deaf and blind.

    Have you ever seen a man blind from birth? With outstretched hand, with trembling lips dry, eyes closed, crouched in their darkness, pulling the rod become sacred? Imagine the one healed by Jesus. Do you realize what it meant for light? Therefore unleash incredible unseen sun burned body? Dawn sunrise and sunset made ​​him dance, loving light that God had given them a second life. Now imagine him losing it. First time, second time, third time! And forever!

    He would fumble trying it, but would stiffen the land without perfume, prisoner pain, isolated from the world. Stop thinking about the pain returned to darkness after having lived near a glimpse years younger sun? I am looking for the blind and staff. Debugging memory ...

    By definition, makes old memories. I thought that living remembering you. You gave me the silent minds of disagreement or misunderstanding understanding. Then you left. Or have I left? Ultimately it does not matter, that I remained alive in the autumn apple. Live! Like sheep have survived so well?

    There's so weird that I do not regret anything?

    La Fee Blanche, Countess of Chou-Fleur

    1. Bun, am gresit cand ziceam sa-ti iei medicamentele, renunta la ele, repede... :D

    2. :D
      acum spui, dupa ce am luat o cutie de googlenol compensat?


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