Reveries
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Gps Iphone Fire Red Cheats
war books are on the shelf. I open one of them, and find a page with the title "shoot me me." How many times I dreamed of being in front of a firing squad, I glimpsed as delve some bullets in my body, my body like a sieve the eagerly received and sobs of joy and abandon. Although it has always been abandoned, has suffered the ravages of recurrent bleeding from all orifices (nose, mouth, anus, ears, soul). Bullets opened the door to a place where my repudiation materializes, where my disagreements will climb in my temples like a blinding sun, where I spit and scourge me from my vein until all the semen outbreak ever stayed in sheets my bed. Would
twelve years the first time I laid my hands over this thing located in the crotch, I was outside, I saw my body in the mirror and wanted to soak in my own blood. With horror, I felt that I had not a single pubic hair, it was a sad nudity dry, as dry as the vulvas of those aged a few years later I visited several nursing homes in the city. I remember I had to moisten her clitoris with a little old who provided serum intravenously. They, perhaps because of his or her Alzheimer dementia, never acknowledged me. Confident believed that finding a young lady always put my name on their backs. Thinking
well may take me a girl in his memories, as the route of a stool that follows a body that is always about to leave without success, making it the perfect partner for a hemorrhoids.
Oh, my love!
am your hemorrhoids, venereal
am that that populates your nightmares at night, I'm that language
raspy cow's full of allergies your buttocks when the lame and consents;
'm tired of the fruit to conceive of a God who suffered from diarrhea .
Oh my love!
'm obsessed with your absence.
peeps I know that when your ass down the toilet think of me as I think of you,
I know that when these sick back in your mouth the indelible mark of my kisses
as the remnants of vomit which can never deliver.
firing squad look at him and I become a member of that squad murders. I'm the executioner and the sacrifice, my rifle utters an obscenity, a bullet whose tip is shaped like a kiss from you and are behind the laughter of the elderly so much abuse in the geriatric hospitals.
I gave myself to the elderly, to love you, my hateful and unknown
bitch, oh
venerated and desjuicida ramerita of infinite love that both men have loved!
Now only story in the hope of being punished, that the platoon becomes real and there is justice for a blunt in my ilk. It may not be killed by a bullet, Vlad III of Wallachia surely come as a spectrum impaled. We were both surprised to find all the collapse of pleasure that I feel when my organs are arranged like a sausage to be eaten by a dog.
Oh yeah!
not even you, Vlad, I get scared.
I want to meet the devil himself,
want to be dragged to hell it will ultimately deserve.
Oh you old decrepit!
not leave me tonight because I have this fear
be met if there is a minimum of cosmic balance. Tomorrow
wake a little sweaty at 6 am, disappointed, will understand that I have never been a pervert, I have always faded after the customer service desk at a bank. I know that the alarm sound is not the horn that calls the squad to eliminate me, that is not the wail of an old decrepit than the disgust of a girl I want, which is unfortunate Vlad laughter IIID Wallachia as I impaled. I say I had a heavy sleeper and that I must hurry to meet very friendly to each customer. "Go on, we are their friends."
AsZeta
twelve years the first time I laid my hands over this thing located in the crotch, I was outside, I saw my body in the mirror and wanted to soak in my own blood. With horror, I felt that I had not a single pubic hair, it was a sad nudity dry, as dry as the vulvas of those aged a few years later I visited several nursing homes in the city. I remember I had to moisten her clitoris with a little old who provided serum intravenously. They, perhaps because of his or her Alzheimer dementia, never acknowledged me. Confident believed that finding a young lady always put my name on their backs. Thinking
well may take me a girl in his memories, as the route of a stool that follows a body that is always about to leave without success, making it the perfect partner for a hemorrhoids.
Oh, my love!
am your hemorrhoids, venereal
am that that populates your nightmares at night, I'm that language
raspy cow's full of allergies your buttocks when the lame and consents;
'm tired of the fruit to conceive of a God who suffered from diarrhea .
Oh my love!
'm obsessed with your absence.
peeps I know that when your ass down the toilet think of me as I think of you,
I know that when these sick back in your mouth the indelible mark of my kisses
as the remnants of vomit which can never deliver.
firing squad look at him and I become a member of that squad murders. I'm the executioner and the sacrifice, my rifle utters an obscenity, a bullet whose tip is shaped like a kiss from you and are behind the laughter of the elderly so much abuse in the geriatric hospitals.
I gave myself to the elderly, to love you, my hateful and unknown
bitch, oh
venerated and desjuicida ramerita of infinite love that both men have loved!
Now only story in the hope of being punished, that the platoon becomes real and there is justice for a blunt in my ilk. It may not be killed by a bullet, Vlad III of Wallachia surely come as a spectrum impaled. We were both surprised to find all the collapse of pleasure that I feel when my organs are arranged like a sausage to be eaten by a dog.
Oh yeah!
not even you, Vlad, I get scared.
I want to meet the devil himself,
want to be dragged to hell it will ultimately deserve.
Oh you old decrepit!
not leave me tonight because I have this fear
be met if there is a minimum of cosmic balance. Tomorrow
wake a little sweaty at 6 am, disappointed, will understand that I have never been a pervert, I have always faded after the customer service desk at a bank. I know that the alarm sound is not the horn that calls the squad to eliminate me, that is not the wail of an old decrepit than the disgust of a girl I want, which is unfortunate Vlad laughter IIID Wallachia as I impaled. I say I had a heavy sleeper and that I must hurry to meet very friendly to each customer. "Go on, we are their friends."
AsZeta
Monday, April 13, 2009
Black Lagoon Poptropica
If the last night of the world, you'd sufficient elements to smile, leaning on the basis of any scaffold, would issue the toothless grin of a woman until you laugh cracks between the mouth of the establishment that persists in agony. It was the last night of the world, raising your calculations melancholy sacramental space where you would resguardarías of self-elimination of others, you complain about each of the moments that preceded the final, leading to the vision of a ruined and deserted city to scare off any remnant of breath. If this is the last night of time, you gag the temptation to intrude into the contours of those who remember, their names fulgurarían through the shards of what once were. It was the last night of the world, only if it were ...
Aszeta
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