Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Replacement For Tech Dec

detection and blabla

So now that I've found that even today no Valentine's Day is, I had in mind that finding and make known to use the opportunity to once again to declare and publicly that avarchillion I love. Now, I could here pictures of roses or other green stuff (or Rotzeug, whatever) add to the whole, probably the valentine's sense just to make, but it's exactly what should not be the point, right? It is, after all, not Valentine's Day and he should be committed ... So in joy that roses are perhaps not more than twice as expensive as they are on the said days and the period is usually around him. Also to note is the joy that now that we are today in a non-Valentine's Day are, roses are more beautiful as they were in just said, special days. For are not roses every day of the year more beautiful than this? Is it not true that kindness does not count as high, if they happen only noticeable on this one day? But what we want to say ... Despite this knowledge, there are not enough creatures that would give nevertheless offended, they would not be considered on that day in a special way? Well, that is completely disagree, though, the little creature that I is included with other beings, and partly from outside and sometimes themselves, it agreed that roses better on other days are like on that at which they not infrequently forced or at the very least presents from duty, and therefore, despite their exorbitant prices, which determine not the value of a rose or the related attention, this value can only by the love with which it was given to be measured, not the beauty of a may outweigh small act of love in daily life. It may provide an incentive, they may enjoy and can create new, but can live with the love only if it also finds its place in everyday life. Now this is not necessarily what can be understood by ordinary, but it is not enforced and not tied to a day. If I'm honest, I will mention that this line of detection and the general blah's not just the drive out were my insignificant opinion get rid of and put my love for avarchillion new express, but even though at first unconsciously only, and yet I was moved this to the letter to begin at all to me, knowing to lose in what I probably succeeded to some extent, and I want to presume anything, even to prevent the exercise of other activities. Of course I would never in the sense that this writing and their intention even remotely might have something to do with the math test on Thursday, which I happen to have to learn something in that, apart from yours truly, probably learn anyway all already, and I, even while I know I am in the remaining time, for example, and of far-fetched, tomorrow hardly enough elapsing find something, and yet more the desire feel my little iBook to employ, we assume, for example, and just as far-fetched a Shooter, which I of course would never play, or even very pretty, a book, as befits a decent girl with good education, without of course I would never Winnetou, the last I should not even read ... and I would not do so many things like, and can, I am left her by the theory for a long time considered a math learning ... and a few elapsed insignificant moments are lost in these lines, which have now served well and almost exclusively for this purpose. In principle, it is not fair. These lines have now is the time in which I invested in them, yet they could never play them, no, they need more and more, pass away or they perish and are forgotten. If they are not powered on through time, which is dedicated to them, they go out, if not their state between 0 and 1, then at least in the minds of people. To obtain these lines further, which are purchased through time and different, they need additional time and otherwise be paid to stop them do not live. The longer they remain without time, the longer them no attention is paid and the longer they rest in oblivion, the more it will take time to understand its contents again and take their meaning and to understand their words. It is time that passes without that part of it, no matter how insignificant and small, wasted on these lines is complicated not only the interpretation of the words in their context, to recognize them and their original meanings within a time that is not repeatable, is heavier and heavier. But so be it and so it should be. So I will close this blah, not to use the remaining time for acquiring mathematical skills, but otherwise shared, as can be found. Only one thing is not said, and from this I hope to walk or importance yet lost understanding of selbige words ever, because this should be, well not necessarily in this particular case, but applied to the central importance of the key term in this statement, in general, then is not only an understanding of low loss nature, but this is also a part of what makes you feel the world is still a piece of divinity and live.
The statement is simple, yet meaningful, if they sincerely and honestly meant, and it also deletes only the last word, there is nothing that is bound to this specific instance,
I love you, avarchillion!

TarĂ­ (which should now learn math, but it will not do :-))

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Unemployment Insurance Benefits Ny Certifications

blood -rejected

I'm bleeding
the knife cut my wrist
but before that I used my fist to smash the mirror

Which reflected the
I felt pain when you

rejected my love and my heart that I gave
and now I flee and seek hide in a grave
of my pain and loneliness of a death inside
and I aready died.



jaja ... one of my school poems .....

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Jesse Jane Online Vid

dance in the fire

dance in the fire, little heart
dance and lose yourself there,
because where the suffering and pain are only

like the wind,
evaporate like fog,
the fire burned,
of nimble feet carried them
the world is still a beautiful place.

flow with the water, my soul
flow 'and never come back, you never
that goal in mind the lack
fled as far
but as time
into the distance by the wind

blown away by dark forces
been obscured and my little eyes removed. can not

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Yogita Bali In Underwear

unheard

what concerns me
me
indignation rest
reaffirms my passive activity


my eyes but I do not look pass through the dreams

and I forget who I am


screaming my fears but I do not hear
thrive and they come to light and


not my pain does not stop my tears on silent

and then the desire to
in indignation.


hmm .... this poem was written in September .... I do not know if you can understand it ... and if anyone does, I do not know .... even more so well ... I usually would not write this ... but something in me resists, the poem just like that, without quick note on my part to release from .... To explain what I mean ... well ... believe that, so I have no sense, because "who does not understand my silence, of course not my words, "to quote here something, what's wrong in my opinion .... well ... what the heck .... what I write here will probably pass without any special meaning to the reader ... it will probably be written in it .... no sense to have this or will they? causes it but maybe that I do not think that I still had something to write .... but no ... it is not cause ... because my comment is meaningful without even why I am also reassure or satisfy it is to have written ... well ... maybe it is, where no sense, yet there to be I in retrospect it ... can write to me to deal with other than what me .... now employs ... who is not this what I write, of course, may well live soothes ... who understands and knows what I mean .... who understands what concerns me ... I can only conclude with tears in his eyes in the poor ... we'll make it ... But perhaps this feeling is still present in everyone and everyone knows it well ... now ... so be it .... I know my people ... my lonely people ... but maybe I just sinking in grief too painful to avoid even greater? maybe I weave me a dress from it to make it to live ever again ... or maybe I'm just waiting ... and perhaps these lines I only write a memory of what has been ... and maybe it's just daydreaming ... and perhaps it is pointless to me seem to have written, just like I did last pointless ... and yet ... also, in every sense without the afflicted, the interwoven with sorrow, or perhaps self-pity eaten me liable ... perhaps it has become familiar ... or maybe these are the memorable line, only the sounds of the old kindled in me ... one last bitter cry, one last tear it out of the hope, one last time before all the memories of the past .... and entrusted and yet perhaps all these lines lie only just a dream, only madness that has formed in deep mourning and the fantasy ... well it may be that I wake up soon ... well it may be that what I write and wrote only is delusional .... now ... so be it ... but perhaps it is a piece of my injured soul .... maybe they should be remedied on or be cured on .... now ... I think maybe .... or is it? as it is .... Now, I do not know ... maybe I'll see it, understand perhaps ... but if not ... now, then be that as it ... I can not stop ... or is it? now ... perhaps I mean this .... or not ... or I do not want it .... neither promote nor hinder, or even believe the same is not ... Perhaps it is this ... Perhaps it has to be decided, maybe not ... and perhaps this is just spinning .... it may be ....
and then the wille
up in indignation.