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My shelter when I have crazy thoughts: décembre 2009
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My shelter when I have crazy thoughts. When no body is listening. 2010 and for ever. 2009 commence mal mais se termine bien, il faut préciser. Que 2010 soit encore meilleure, qu'elle soit l'année de la liberté d'expression, de la justice et de la paix. J'espère aussi qu'elle nous apportera tant d'amour et de fraternité. 2010, ça sent l'année gagnante. Bonne année a toutes et a tous! Une seule parmi plusieurs. Une âme soeur! Inscription à : Articles (Atom). Afficher mon profil complet. 2010 and for ever.
my-shelter-when-i-have-crazy-thoughts.blogspot.com
My shelter when I have crazy thoughts: juillet 2010
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My shelter when I have crazy thoughts. When no body is listening. Le retour de Wounded Spirit. Donc voila, je tacherai d’être plus présent sur le blog pour parler de ce qui s’est passé depuis combien déjà? 3 mois ou 4? J’en sais rien…. I need to come back. I'll be back for soon. Miss the blog, miss writing, miss comments. Wait for me, I'm coming! Inscription à : Articles (Atom). Afficher mon profil complet. Le retour de Wounded Spirit. I need to come back. Il y a 3 semaines. Il y a 2 mois.
my-shelter-when-i-have-crazy-thoughts.blogspot.com
My shelter when I have crazy thoughts: novembre 2009
http://my-shelter-when-i-have-crazy-thoughts.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html
My shelter when I have crazy thoughts. When no body is listening. Bienvenue chez les fous: Mon séjour à l'hopital psychiatrique Razi (Mannouba). Pensez vous que une personne sur cinq serait folle? Quelques séries et beaucoup de musique. J’avais tout prévus. Quand j’étais avec le chauffeur je pensais à une réplique du film vie volée :. Qu’est ce que vous avez fait? Vous avez l’air normal. Tout le monde est triste…. Pas de me demander ‘c’est vrai? Vous êtes venu tout seul? De plus en plus insupportableR...
my-shelter-when-i-have-crazy-thoughts.blogspot.com
My shelter when I have crazy thoughts: Amour et âme soeur
http://my-shelter-when-i-have-crazy-thoughts.blogspot.com/2010/03/amour-et-ame-soeur.html
My shelter when I have crazy thoughts. When no body is listening. Amour et âme soeur. PS Tu es tout pour moi. Anonyme a dit…. Comment doit-on tappeler maintenant que wounded spirit est mort? Que votre amour tapporte la force dont tu as besoin, quil dure encore et toujours . 26 mars, 2010 12:42. Anonyme a dit…. Jai besoin de vous ecrire un email en pv est ce que vous pourriez envoyer votre addresse. 01 avril, 2010 17:17. BelM a dit…. Bon courage , bonne continuation,et toujours plus damour! Ca fait un bon...
my-shelter-when-i-have-crazy-thoughts.blogspot.com
My shelter when I have crazy thoughts: septembre 2009
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My shelter when I have crazy thoughts. When no body is listening. Sondage sur les blogs personnels. Inscription à : Articles (Atom). I am nothing more than a little wounded spirit who cries out for someone or something to save me from the darkness that imprisoners me. Afficher mon profil complet. Sondage sur les blogs personnels. Il y a 3 semaines. Il y a 2 mois. Il y a 9 mois. Il y a 4 ans. Il y a 5 ans. Il y a 7 ans. Modèle Simple. Fourni par Blogger.
poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com
Poetry Died: The Simple Truth
http://poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com/2008/01/simple-truth.html
Monday, January 7, 2008. A double sin strikes back with rage. Showing its teeth and biting hard. The creature that doesn't have an age. For years, just building anger in its cage. You got it wrong, you've got no wild card. And while you're fighting to survive. With broken legs and bleeding eyes. You start to see what caused your dive. You start to be so painfully alive. Forever despising your natural disguise. Your open wounds tell you a story. And now you know it isn't about luck. Show only posts in:.
poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com
Poetry Died: Sister Ships
http://poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com/2008/03/sister-ships.html
Wednesday, March 19, 2008. A strange and unexpected word. Crawls down between your lips and disappears. It's like the last fall of a bird. That dies while flying through your fears. The word is gone now, but there's no time to quit. So you still hear it, a ghost of silent thoughts. Two rusted sister ships that finally have split. Different time zones, resting in different spots. March 21, 2008 at 1:18 AM. March 21, 2008 at 2:36 AM. So keep going and I'll always be here to encourage you :). Yog - that's me.
poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com
Poetry Died: Masochism refractar
http://poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com/2009/09/masochism-refractar.html
Wednesday, September 30, 2009. Şi rupe palnia spre soare. Trage-te tare de picioare. Încuie-ţi uşa de la cap. Ochii aruncă-i în scânteie. Mai dă-ţi apoi un bobârnac. Şi scurge-te ca o crâmpeie. Iar dacă încă totuşi speri. Striveşte-ţi nasul cu lopata. Drenează sânge cu găleata. Întoarce-ţi oasele prin piele. Sparge-ţi dinţii cu pietricele. Jupoaie-ţi pielea cu un ac. Şi astupă-te într-un copac. Cum ai facut şi-n alte seri. De-aici, de-acum, să nu mai ceri. Disturbing visual images. I LIKE IT! Noi promova...
poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com
Poetry Died: Virgin Suicides
http://poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com/2008/04/virgin-suicides.html
Tuesday, April 1, 2008. All you have got is a fake treasure. Kept on a missing thirteenth floor. A rubber toy gives you the pleasure. That all those warriors are begging for. Too busy snorting dreams and candies. Hateful enough to blindly see. Hot-blooded girls with wicked dandies. Tired enough to set you free. App am pus si eu cateva poezii pe blog. dak vrei, poti sa arunci o privire;). April 4, 2008 at 10:50 PM. I adore the title! Fertile imagination, as usual :D. April 7, 2008 at 1:48 AM.
poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com
Poetry Died: Walking Ears
http://poezia-a-murit.blogspot.com/2008/03/walking-ears.html
Monday, March 3, 2008. A war of sounds takes place in silence. The music beats, the screaming crowd. The moaning horny girls, pure violence. A never-ending fight of which we are so proud. But each and every sound leaves traces. The ear learns and it demands more. Abused and sick of all those places. Being too late to see the door. It would have all been very easy. If we were only walking ears. We could have grown up soft and cheesy. Being afraid of wax, not tears. Awesome, as usual. Show only posts in:.