Saturday, October 31, 2009

How To Print In Gmail Without Ads



"Jake. Please. Give me one more chance. Last. Never again about anything else you do not ask. Just this one last time." He heard from behind their leaving the Port. He stopped and slowly turned in her direction. Did not stop because her words, she or anything else for him meant. He did it out of habit. It was the echo of the feelings which nourished her for so long. She was everything to him, the only thing to nod your finger. Now everything has changed. Nothing will ever be the same. Never more. Strained his eyes breaking through the darkness of night, filled with mist. After running down her cheeks, a cascade of tears, he nevertheless was able to distinguish from mixing with them raindrops. Zziębnieta, drenched and helpless, look to beg him for forgiveness. He believed in her tears, but it could not change anything. He could not forgive her for it. He understood it, but it was a matter of rules. Pulled the collar of his coat tighter around his neck and loudly wypścił air from the lungs. It was not owe her anything, but I also felt that should say something. Drew air from the back and opened his mouth, but a voice broke him out of Gradle. Forgiven. He knew he could not feel his moist eyes. He knew that she could not even expect this, because not only does not remember that ever wept, it's still a lot of people repeating to him that he did not cry, even as a child. Do not believe them, because no one can be born motherfucker. The heat flowing down the ossified cheek seemed to him a moment more than a touch of the caress of her hand. Hands, which are already hands of strangers. After all, he did not feel anything like a catharsis, was too selfish. When her hands hid his face, closed his eyes and turned away.
"Jake! Please!"
"No, Mom. That was the last time." Drawled not turning in her direction. It was supposed to be the last time I saw her. It was supposed to be the last time she saw him. Burnt under the mantle of the cigarette and walked back toward the harbor. The site of the car. In the home page.

"It was a very long way home" - he thought.


Massive Attack - [Blue Lines # 06] Unfinished Sympathy

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Island Kitchen Blueprints

Shore ... and then he gave the world offer as SuperSam

I do not smoke. Tobacco has a taste of yesterday, and yesterday I did not work out. Over my head to start from scratch. Cut off the. I'm somewhere in the middle, between "this is not the way", and "as I told you so." Apparently, I have always had a straw enthusiasm, but I can tell u how Nicolson Kesey, at least I tried. I did it my way too Frank! You know. Today is the ballast. Just as nostalgia. Yesterday is the shadow of today, as in this piece of Madlib. Yes. Autumns become too ... simply too. There are some sentences that you will never tell. Until recently, also had such a sentence. Today it say shyly: "I'm like everyone else."
Auto-diss.
Yesterday's seem so far away in general.