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Friday, November 23, 2007. I think her name was heather. She lived on my street. She had a black dog. We played dolls. she tricked me into believing things. She let me borrow her two piece swims suit, mom told me change. she let me borrow a necklace but mom was afraid it had lice. I didn't want to believe it. it was a smoothed rock on a black string. We blew on the dandelions to make wishes. She wanted a bike. we'd pick them through the fences. She had a brother. I think he scared me sometimes.

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collecting | irememberit.blogspot.com Reviews
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Friday, November 23, 2007. I think her name was heather. She lived on my street. She had a black dog. We played dolls. she tricked me into believing things. She let me borrow her two piece swims suit, mom told me change. she let me borrow a necklace but mom was afraid it had lice. I didn't want to believe it. it was a smoothed rock on a black string. We blew on the dandelions to make wishes. She wanted a bike. we'd pick them through the fences. She had a brother. I think he scared me sometimes.
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1 collecting
2 neighborfriend
3 posted by
4 vermilion
5 no comments
6 new house
7 was it winter
8 2nd story
9 blog archive
10 about me
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collecting | irememberit.blogspot.com Reviews

https://irememberit.blogspot.com

Friday, November 23, 2007. I think her name was heather. She lived on my street. She had a black dog. We played dolls. she tricked me into believing things. She let me borrow her two piece swims suit, mom told me change. she let me borrow a necklace but mom was afraid it had lice. I didn't want to believe it. it was a smoothed rock on a black string. We blew on the dandelions to make wishes. She wanted a bike. we'd pick them through the fences. She had a brother. I think he scared me sometimes.

INTERNAL PAGES

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1

collecting: 2nd story

http://irememberit.blogspot.com/2007/11/2nd-story.html

Sunday, November 11, 2007. I liked the window. I could see a few rooftops and streets. Mostly I felt brave by it, because I knew if the glass wasn't there, it could kill me. My mom told me a story about a little boy who fell through the window, his father wrote a song about him. I knew it was a sad song. It was one of the first songs I ever really listened to. It made me a little afraid of windows like mine. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

2

collecting: November 2007

http://irememberit.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html

Friday, November 23, 2007. I think her name was heather. She lived on my street. She had a black dog. We played dolls. she tricked me into believing things. She let me borrow her two piece swims suit, mom told me change. she let me borrow a necklace but mom was afraid it had lice. I didn't want to believe it. it was a smoothed rock on a black string. We blew on the dandelions to make wishes. She wanted a bike. we'd pick them through the fences. She had a brother. I think he scared me sometimes.

3

collecting: neighborfriend

http://irememberit.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-think-her-name-was-heather.html

Friday, November 23, 2007. I think her name was heather. She lived on my street. She had a black dog. We played dolls. she tricked me into believing things. She let me borrow her two piece swims suit, mom told me change. she let me borrow a necklace but mom was afraid it had lice. I didn't want to believe it. it was a smoothed rock on a black string. We blew on the dandelions to make wishes. She wanted a bike. we'd pick them through the fences. She had a brother. I think he scared me sometimes.

4

collecting: new house

http://irememberit.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-house.html

Friday, November 23, 2007. We slept in the house before we moved in. in the family room. We had sleeping bags that we couldn't dig far enough into to keep warm. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

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Diario de un Robotista: marzo 2006

http://aireviciado.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html

Diario de un Robotista. Domingo, marzo 26, 2006. Afkiano, como el polvo que se acumula debajo de los muebles. Por eso Tomas Pollak no bebe martinis con los amigos ni ve teleseries nocturnas, decora su casa con los muebles familiares y tiene una nana gorda y fea, no hay mayor placer para el señor Pollak , solo banalidades, quizás revolcarse en el. Impecable suelo, como los escarabajos y los Kafkianos adictos. Enormemente Kafkiano, no da para mas. Posted by Pablo Acuña at 4:40 p. m. Sábado, marzo 25, 2006.

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Diario de un Robotista: junio 2006

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Diario de un Robotista. Jueves, junio 22, 2006. Posted by Pablo Acuña at 7:44 p. m. Miércoles, junio 21, 2006. Cuando éramos tontos, habría robado un banco y te habría llevado a la Argentina, todos huyen hacia allá. Ja, que eres tonto. Hacia sueño y había olor a mar, nadie supo de donde salió teniendo en consideración la situación capitalina de su residencia, ella se quedo dormida en su pecho y el, ante la incomodidad de moverse, decidió dormir allí, en el sillón. Posted by Pablo Acuña at 7:23 p. m.

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Diario de un Robotista: febrero 2006

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Diario de un Robotista. Martes, febrero 28, 2006. Por ahora soy poeta, soy Escritor, no me escudo bajo falsa modestia como Cortazar llamandome aficionado, yo escribo, el oficio correspondiente es Escritor and punto, el resto es palabreria protocolar. No es que me ponga a la Altura de Cortazar, por el contrario, soy un principiante, un semi dios mediocre que molesta como una odiosa mosca la provinciana autoridad de las vacas sagradas de la poesia regional. Posted by Pablo Acuña at 10:02 p. m. No recuerdo ...

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Diario de un Robotista: mayo 2006

http://aireviciado.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html

Diario de un Robotista. Miércoles, mayo 24, 2006. Tomando en cuenta de que la mayoria de la gente usa estos espacios para comentar lo que es de su vida, lo que será de sus proyectos y demases, seria socialmente apropiado de que hiciese lo mismo, aunque sea una conducta detestable. Segui cantando, por que puta que estuvo malo este dia, perdi el cabello en un local picante y confirme por enesima vez que no estoy al nivel academico de mi curso, la misma mierda de siempre. Ya weon, ya. Jueves, mayo 18, 2006.

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Diario de un Robotista: enero 2006

http://aireviciado.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html

Diario de un Robotista. Martes, enero 31, 2006. Hijos de . [? Hoy vimos a la Tia Elena. Ella es una escritora regional, de esas a las que la municpalidad le asigna talleres con el fin de proyectar gasto social, su prosa es bastante fuerte, lamento no tener ahora algun trabajo de ella para hacer la mencion, sus contactos son bastante buenos and eso siempre es un buen aporte. En fin, Elena Muñoz, del amplio espectro de poetas Ñatistas de la Region, eligio a nosotros [ Diego. En fin. Tenemos "matria". Me si...

aireviciado.blogspot.com aireviciado.blogspot.com

Diario de un Robotista: abril 2006

http://aireviciado.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html

Diario de un Robotista. Domingo, abril 30, 2006. Mira como digo que consumo drogas. Mira como me hago creer que consumo dogras. Mira como confirmo que todo es psicologico. Mira como las drogas no son mas que azucar. Y caramelos baratos comprados en la esquina. Me traje mis libros, mi musica y mis escritos. Soy feliz con ellos. Yo nunca volvi al sur. Tampoco siempre volvi al amor. Yo odio el sur. Posted by Pablo Acuña at 7:13 p. m. Jueves, abril 27, 2006. LES VOLAMOS LA RA . JA - JA - JA . Le dije que nos...

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collecting

Friday, November 23, 2007. I think her name was heather. She lived on my street. She had a black dog. We played dolls. she tricked me into believing things. She let me borrow her two piece swims suit, mom told me change. she let me borrow a necklace but mom was afraid it had lice. I didn't want to believe it. it was a smoothed rock on a black string. We blew on the dandelions to make wishes. She wanted a bike. we'd pick them through the fences. She had a brother. I think he scared me sometimes.

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REMEMBER

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