Fun Brain Cheats For Planetary Pinball

Poptropicafunbrin>poptropicafunbrin

Postal is for her. Because

tell the world what you want and what will happen, but I have a half spread across the world. A single half. And if they did not not know what would. M i half

'i Catcher-web Monitor darkkaura @ 2007-12-02T13: 16:00

Since Miss

forsake frightens me do this, I'll put here a short list of Christmas gifts, however lie that is Christmas:

;

1. First of all I want a Christmas card, because I'm just Zip, and something I collecting postcards. May be by e-mail or regular mail (the latter always makes me more excited, of course). And they can be whatever you want. But I like postcards, and when I get some I'm happy.

2. Well, at this point I will also copySmall Cherry, because I want a photoblog entry / churnal / foo dedicated to me. Yes, I know, I would hope. I also want to feel the world revolves around from time to time.

3. Here and we will vary. I want a picture. Not yours but your room. Any particular place that you have your room at special affection. Or some order yours. Whatever. Something as you like yourselves.

4. I want a phrase or a word or a fragment. Something of a book / movie / song that you reminded me. Or several somethings. : P

5. Another thing I want is a picture that you make from your room window. To view qhat is what you see when you asomáis for it. The windows are important.

6. I would also like to write a story cortita, very short, not asking for much, which I saliésemos and their author / author, basically, and then others added, of course:). Can be based on something that actually happened or invent something.

7. you do want a picture of you. I do not care whatever. I do not care if dibujáis wrong. I am satisfied with the simplest thing in the world.

8. I also want a picture of something you like very much. Whatever. Imagination.

9. one day I want ye happy just because, for no apparent reason. Andand day I tell him.

10. This I leave to your choice, to see if my conseguis also surprised. ;)

Hydrocodrone Side Effects darkkaura @ 2007-11-28T09: 38:00

Monday to Wednesday I still get up early. At about 8 me-never put into operation at all, just in case. And Otto heels biting me while I go to the bathroom. Then lies on the pad or sneaking into a room and get done with a piece of clothing to feel a little closer to us. I will take it off, of course, because I need my clothes. And while I rub the tummy sleeping and I find myself thinking how could such a creature is so alive. Or live simply. Because live is infinite and brief word at a time. At 8:30 am and breakfast. Campurrianas milk and cookies, of course. But breakfast the memory of his eleven cookies. Those breakfastOtto comes home to meet her at the door. At 4, badminton. And at 6 I'm going to poetry. Starts at 6. We spoke of poets, decide what is poetry and what is not poetry, then we try to be poets, we read and correct ourselves. Typically, we're leaving at 9. And then we go to coffee forever. Red and orange walls. Friday nights laughing at the back table. At 9:30 I try to go home to dinner and waiting for me.

On Wednesday, like today, I have come to philosophers of antiquity. Step from myth to logos. And today we find out why we are and think as we think. I'm at 11 and I leave home or the library. Spend hours in the library. In the afternoon, about 6,

薬 propecla darkkaura @ 2007-11-18T12: 08:00

clear. I do not pretend that nothing will ever be as before. That's absurd. Things can never be as before. It would be like trying to breathe underwater. But just one afternoon. To ask how things are, how they are going. To tell you how stupid we were. To not tell you how guilty I felt. For not tell me they did not think it was my fault. To laugh again, sounding, very low, in laughter, what fools we were. What fools we were. several days I've been trying to write this. I can not decide. You know. A brief summary. Although the problem is not that. The problem is that I wanted to dedicate this to a clock. And I never liked watches. But this will give him a truce. Why not measure the time, it measures the expectations, the certainty or uncertainty, reunions, hugs, trains. Way stations, they say. Arrivals and departures. Travel. Or the meeting after the bus ride. Because the best time to go there's just before. Maybe I say it is ugly. But it is. So. The path of the bus stop shelter clock slowed the outside world. I told you I missed. What is not said is that I suddenly found myself in another world, as if he had gone through a large window invisible in the air. I noticed it suddenly. The hectic pace of downtown suddenly stopped at a street, in a parenthesis, where people walked slowly, in slow motion. And that was contagious. Street began somewhat faster, yet with the accelerationsufficient, but perhaps I was not enough. Overall, the later arrested there on a clock you do not have the time, and then us and unpredictability, surprise, surprise. We discovered that the moon was a satellite, talking to his invisible figure, but this, laughing at the table with an army destroyed by robots, coffee, soft drinks and potato. I think on the clock. That clock that marked the impatience, the evening, some Saturday mornings, pinching to remember, notices of arrivals, the waiting, the awkwardness of the meeting, reunion. The station clock, you know, do not mark time.

Acute Mountain Sickness More Condition_symptoms

is like walking slowly. Because when I'm alone and no rain or fog is not usually leave me to walk slowly, I become clumsy, insecure, look to the side and start walking, as fast as I can. And then there are those days of slow walking, Saturday or Friday morning full of poetry Tuesday and even weeks running behind the bus are walking slowly. This does not mean you necessarily walk slower when you walk fast. But they note. You walk slowly. Segura. Surprisingly agile. And you become an acrobat in the street. Without fear. Jumping on the track. No network. And run-walk slowly to make a picture a little later. You stand. You turn. Smile. Let you hug and embrace. Nonsense, always sayI liked the word "nonsense" -. Laugh. Sing. And I still walk slowly. Without rain or fog. Without rain. Because the rain is the closest thing to walk slowly. It rains and you just go by the sound of drops hitting the umbrella. O rain and run in the rain until the laughter comes out and you realize. And walk slowly. Even when you walk fast. Because slow walking does not mean that necessarily walk slower when you walk fast. And there is the fog. Ah, how I miss the fog. Today only remember two days of fog, days riddle. The first was the first. Hey, Dad, then that is a cloud that has fallen so far? Yes, that is. But we can not catch

Funny Wedding Hotel Card

Renew An Expired Drivers Licenseohio Listen.

Indians trains feel far away, before they reach that place. Simply put an ear to the rails. No rail there, put your ear to the ground. Of course, feel no train but, for example, a rider that long waiting or a herd of buffalo. If there is no way doing anything there, do not feel anything.
But this is rare.
There was once an Indian named Feel créiser-l'herba felt that grow Erba. Only he had put his ear to the ground. The
he felt was no sound, no crack, no crack, this was nothing, and suddenly everything was completely different. He was a strong tingling in ear l0indi, but was not very accurate. Feel grow l'herba laughed when sen-

Brazzilian Waxing Before And After Images L'elephant.

'i-catcher-console Webmonitor darkkaura @ 2007-10-08T20: 20:00

nights laughing at the ceiling. Those times. Half of 135. The race to the bus. Maps and tourist excursions. Sometimes they are hugging on the station under the clock, of course. Afternoon slush and books. Small. Other times they are the square and benches, songs and skates. Also sometimes it's coffee and words.

remain those times is the old house, the hall towards the end was a ninety-degree turn at the bottom of my room, and left that of my parents. The calendar with the seasons painted on wood, autumn, winter, spring, summer. April, July and October. And my parents' room, behind the door, the desktop black and white, not particularly pretty, but always full of stuff. I, as a child, opening lI drawers, checking the old letters that Mom still holds, the papers with poems, a puppet worn and boxes, especially boxes, spring cleaning boxes, like mine, the boxes with matches inside, headbands, with pins, with patchwork, with newspaper clippings. Wooden boxes, cartons, tins of biscuits. Storage boxes for what to keep and what not. Sometimes we find back to the past by reopening the same cabinet. Sometimes back. Sometimes amaze me. Sometimes scared. Sometimes vertigo. Sometimes being brave. Sometimes October.

A recent times.

Cindi Koceich Adoption Blog darkkaura @ 2007-10-05T11: 52:00

Cubefield Science For Kids darkkaura @ 2007-09-28T09: 13:00

Of course not. There had to be easy. And it will not. But I'm there and I realized the other day, late, and when I cry five minutes after seeing a movie in one of those nights that always demented echo. And I think that what I really strikes a chord with the people who hurt others inadvertently let them, I have a little history of films and books mourned with those characteristics. I do not know. And yes, after three days of class in college I realized where I was and cried I have not exactly clear why, but I felt sad and talveznoseasuficientementebuenaparaesto. Igualqueyanomesaleescribirbien. But I'm there. Studying philosophy. And it is nice just because it's what I do. Because I learn somethings wonderful. And finally, we must be brave, because we can all be brave and the value is there for anyone who wants to take it. Ah, Peter Pan was splendid.
And it is that I'm a little scared, peronolodiréenvozalta, because I hope to be brave. I will not die a day because I still hear-elmundoquevive softly, "because the mornings have that new smell you do not know if you like it or not just because it stings a bit in his eyes. My summer has been fantastic, although not entirely September September, but August, towards the end, left behind in July through January and February. Queellatienequeestarbienydejardemarearse. I have to know what I want from me. And finding (CHT me

Flashy Flashers, Inc.

He had an accent. I do not know where. And smiled to serve customers who sat on the small terrace. Street, horribly commercial. Time, terribly summer. Mom, Neil and myself incredibly hungry. Her short hair, smiling eyes, small and cluttered appearance. Should be an exchange student, Erasmus scholarship, maybe. He went to put the blue paper tablecloth rose moved by air. She looked at us funny gesture that he was wearing, and who has a pair of earrings.

"The wind always takes all.

And he left. And left her sentence hanging by a thread, which probably also had to go with the wind. And I remembered abook. A movie. Some beaches. One afternoon. Some travel. Some words. Some people. And the many things that the wind had blown. And I wondered if the wind had brought her here. Or had ever taken something away. Because there seemed to be sentenced something. It seemed a forecast, not the speaking time of meteorologists. It seemed a prophecy of something to come. Or not. But there they left while we were talking about snacks or meals. There let the wind. So that. That wind.

(I

Toy Cast Iron Waffle Maker The game again.

little treasure waiting there, up where the soul.

closed the door leaving the way open absences in the lungs. frogs jump from rock to rock - once he had been told -, jumping from rock to rock and never set their eyes. Frogs are restless - had been completed. And me? "I am a frog? - Look for him and awkward smile, - I hope not. If you do not have to go. -Here we go, "he murmured. And sometimes, just sometimes, smiling sideways, and everything began to make sense.

and reinvent her life, weaving slowly all the stories, all the lies and half truths that would give way. closed the vent ana, sighed, and feeling so helpless as Wendy adult, he forgot he ever had a childhood, and wanted to be Tinkerbell. And he missed some evenings, those ashen, desperate, lying in the eyes of someone who sits waiting in the hours, lying on the silences, sleepless at nightfall. But they both knew it was not enough, they were not prepared to say anything. Not yet. But maybe in years, two months, or five minutes ... Barefoot to the frozen ground and thinking "if ever ..."

I'm sick of having ticks, waiting for that door open again .

Because it was not the time nor the opportunity egro ... what did it matter?
- Let's go to Iceland! - And all went well.

Blueprints Buggy Free Back.

And tell me, what price you will put today to the Celica? The day will cost an affair between child's play? money may be charged wasted all the laughter, smiles dusty from years of damage? rise today as the actions of your days in memory? You can afford to buy the pain of tired feet at every step? And in the black market you can find even 10 grams of time to allow you wrong? How many coins you used to have a moment of silence? You will get a knowing look cheap?


Facing a blank page, to return travel to a train back to an unknown truth to a search without subject to search, some invisible walls, a pased that never was, a city with no name, no memory, only streets where time passes more than a gentle breeze bathed in canals and colorful houses.

And finally, a short, but not math. because I go back to where the n's are not easily or accents, a trip that I needed for this return, of cities filled the streets of stories to tell. And not just back. But I go to the place where we can be a lump sum.

Because I missed.

The Peplacments Hentia

Rújula. Seek, meanwhile, take advantage of new birds to my escape, knowing that snakes are important.

be the same on the other hand changes everything, I once read a book for children. But how will change everything be the same on the other hand if every passing moment pretend believe differently in the same place? Because
same river waters are never the same and cities without memory-without-name move skin, bodies, atoms and molecules at all times.
That time will tell what you want but the world is new. and is reborn in every millionth of a second that passes.

Kurwy Fotki Darmowe Pl As if life was not serious

Coach Outlet In Palm Spring My trip to Italy.

Rome - Florence 2 - VII - 07

Of all your names and all your paper airplanes I will stay with you threw into oblivion. And one day train to get to know the exact words and gestures seem awkward dance friendly.
When I remember those days approaching, and filling curándonos morning from earthquakes, hurricanes and fires, as games in the schoolyard and calling voeces names that seemed to have gone forever without wanting to return.
Prague and Istanbul are away. And the swimming stars are swallowed by fleeing to where no one expected. The cards are ordered home.
Now is the time to celebrate Mardi Gras in the Venecia where the fallen are slowly awakening from a life without dreams, and know the astronauts reach the moon without a rocket, with rumors of wild flocks of birds, including stars and lightning. The time and the sand will tell us what we can get around this, we grow and are now more children, and we, from time to cuadno have the rain on the streets and the winter on hands.
And one day we will have blue tiles, "making ends meet and learn to dance like acrobats juggling the beach and at night, eyes and voices in the belly, like tickling your feet.
I'll let some silence on the voicemail and shall go into other shoes, to avoid further defeats penasr in laminated on the walls of the secret cities. And Iwondering.

Genoa - Barcelona - Valencia 5 - VII - 07

Now that everyone is asleep and boats are only ghosts at dawn, in between waking up and waking from sleep arise fugitives, the protected at night, sleepwalking balance. The spectra are stacked on chairs, in memory of the dead in times of once upon a time. And left to die at the stars and the sun on the horizon, the shooting, with invisible strings, the makers of words, without too many nomads feet on the ground, prisoners of awkwardness and uncertainty. They sleep in the corridors
memories of voices that somehow always come back but not equally. And in theinal are things like this:


Blue - Artur

Orange - I

Rosa - Afri

the city was a maze of dusty streets
while cafés and travel seemed to play hide

the princess picked up in free fall and the prince climbed while
-I could not understand - he said - and turned her back showing her beautiful black hair

running by the red tiles to an uncertain destination

subtly kissed in the middle of space
he finally gave up and just watched carefully as he zooms swhite sandals us
because when time stands still emanate water wells and sources
sink and ended his story between cotton clouds