Dryness Berore Period Could This Be Stress

of the Old Man, my baby

This evening I am always there next to the cat basket. He's very ill. But I will not talk about it in depth, I do not like. Even the friends I have always said "I'm busy with a cat that is ill. " E 'and here I wanted something of mine only describe the feeling, the music that I listen and read the poems. How much pain these days ... but we are under a regency on the Threshold and me and her pussy rocked us beyond the veils. Maybe that's what I do ... I was born May 13, the day when Persephone went back dall'Ade and the day of the apparition of the "Little Light" at Fatima. And 'that's what I do, to live with the look a bit' addition. And maybe to accompany. "The Exorcist" said that men are three types of "talents": the Warriors (those that bring order and justice), healers (those who have this powerful gift, which are themselves "panacea") and Priests (those to help you look beyond and die). At this thought, his hands on the kitty in convulsions, the elderly and sick little heart, kidneys, now that a recent strike and not be able to see / pre-show that has made things worse. We both know that any seizure may move beyond the scenes of the theater, my sweet family. Control your breath and keep reading Ibn Gabirol, "You are invisible light in this visible world, and visible light that is invisible to the world" and so disappear by magic the infusion, syringes and pads and you do not see more than you have sheared like a leopard skin due to sampling and ultrasound. All disappear as if by magic and we are on the summer terrace in the middle of the purple and mauve Belladonna ... we are there to read a good book of poetry ... I realize these days that I have a few books of poetry in the house, if you have any title to advise you as well ... The poems are true pillars in '... and to accompany you and me, my baby, now we move beyond the Poems and browse Illuminations of Rimbaud, the screw with those characters so bizarre as true ... and we imagine to be the hour' inventor and now the boy segregated in the attic ... I want to read in French! Vabeh, no, better not, the seizures started again ... we will now skip the French ... Garcia Lorca ... his Singer Coffee is perfect for travelers teetering on the Threshold:

"Crystal Lamps
and green mirrors.

Onstage dark
supports the Parral

a conversation with death.
The calls
not,
and to call back.
Viewers
drink sobs.
in the mirrors and green silk long queues

stir. "


As the Arcieri Blacks are close to Seville because it already ... we went to the Poem of the Saeta and instead Lamento Poem of the cante jondo talks about crying in the wind and shadows of cypress trees ...
I love the cypress trees.

still convulsing.

I run a video ... this . I love it, with that very serious and very special guy who sings well and plays the dulcimer a ladder leaning against the wall of some kind of sloppy chissàche hallway of the building in some remote place in the world ... It looks like a Templar Knight with the cross on the tee! Tired from his return from a bizarre crusade!


"Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time that you told me, you said
Love is touching souls
Surely you touched mine"
( Joni Mitchell )


Pare tu ti sia calmata.
Il veterinario dice che mi devo preparare.
Che "con quei valori così sballati non ce la farai".
What "or cure heart disease or kidney care."
And that all the balance is now on the edge of a knife.
As he spoke, and you were there with all those tubes, the veils between the worlds were very light ...
You are here at home.
Amid the poems. To Beauty.
may be right "your doctor" my baby, maybe not make it.
You're too beautiful and delicate and sweet, and fragile for this world ... we're running away from a reality show and more ...

dreams You Beauty.