Thursday, July 29, 2010

Can I Get Into A Bar With A Temporary License

murky existence

Insider existence

whole nights I run after your illusion,
And against my face of happiness tortured
slamming of heavy doors with locks right.

Yet these nights without you when your idea is sketched
glide over my body warm delights of indecent
And leave me in the palm of enchanting scents.

When the ribbon of cold blue glow of dawn
Wraps around me and strangles my body
You are a coward, you're running, suddenly you play dead, stupid me
And I embrace the night that steals.

Then my feet hit the ground, I straighten up.
I wandered the streets of a world that is diluted.
A world that knows nothing about the sound of my distress

Day completes the warm colors of my dreams at night, And my dream
oozes along bland facades.
then filled with the black of your absence, I am mourning.
Slowly I resign myself, my Wake t'euthanasie.

Your memory still strikes against the walls of my skull,
You debates, but watch out world,
And thou no more out of your little box. My brain
besiege you, your memory starving.

I'm drunk at the sound of the world and your voice choking
More and more low, more and more mad.

The phone rings.

is your voice.

You've escaped.

You still think of me, you say nice things,
You await my call. I

you lack.

Blasphemy!

Dark Devil.
And I
plunges into madness.
You were not imprisoned,
The bars through which I wanted you
decaying
are those of my dungeon.

Hours of mourning
The ordeal of a morning
That you ridicule
And obliterate
With words on a machine.
Again you haunt my hours.

You want everything do not you?
Freedom of shadows, the tenderness of the living.
Your words blur the boundary between night and day;
In the breaches that you peak
In this white line,
rush my dreams.

You exist, this is your crime.
What insolence, what an insult!
I thought you were a mirage,
And this one belief I pulled my consolation.
In this one belief I managed to forgive
This lack offensive that inflicted upon me,
Daily,
tirelessly.


t'achever Do I? How
bury you?
You live in an abyss already
... The deep, dark abyss of my fantasies.
Your dream my ankle is a heavy chain
And he constantly drags me to a wet night.
If I pulled hard enough, as these horses demented
Would I to t'extirper these dark black?

I raise my sword above your neck.
Not yet my arms are lowered, I do not know
decide.
Flour feverish your existence
Or the deadly vacuum your disappearance.
Drugs or nothingness, see the choices that you let me.


You have no right
they judge you, and you'll pay for this existence,
Your smile, your tender words, aggravating circumstances.
juries too lenient push me revenge.
The extent of my suffering delicate they are insignificant. One day as I
enchain,
One day as I exist.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

N3- Polar Or Nonpolar

I am not a polyglot!

IN ENGLISH OR FRENCH!

past few months my blog receives feedback from Asian countries. I am unable to say whether they are written in Japanese, Korean, Chinese etc.
I am for total freedom of expression and against censorship.
On the internet, I am responsible for all the comments that my readers leave on my blog!
If someone writes a text defamatory, abusive, racist, etc. I may be prosecuted under the laws of my country France.
I master the English and French so well that makes me the sentence that I no longer accept comments written in both languages.
Thank you for your understanding

Friday, July 23, 2010

Are Jockstraps Good For The Penis?

The Full Moon on July 26, 2010 under high voltage


Lately I was thinking about how to illustrate the chart of 26 July, the day of the Full Moon (lunation Cancer) which will occur at 1:36 UT on the 2nd axis 59 of Leo (Sun) - Aquarius (Moon): axis of individuation - C is by personal achievement that gives the most in the world .
By storing in my papers, I found this text (or maybe it was he who found me) that I will treasure for a very long time. Indeed I find these words encouraging and constructive when life confronts us with stressful situations:

"Who was confronted with the fragility of existence-for health reasons, family or work-experience knows that in any situation, even seemingly intractable, there is always room to open a breach in despair. Life is a great field experiences, and that explores you one? it is usually sufficient to impose the effort to gently initiate a project, an idea, a desire, a dream that is reserved for those days when we have time. And gradually, as if expecting that the prompts, life reasserts itself, and as if by magic the other party's journey to self.
No, it is not necessary to hope to undertake. "Jean-Louis Etienne


This PL will be held during the last opposition to 0 ° 25 Saturn (Libra)-Uranus (Aries), which occurs this time in cardinal signs while the previous (since November 4, 2008) occurred in mutable signs. Each of the planets in this opposition are more joint Mars to Saturn and Jupiter to Uranus.
But this opposition will not be isolated since it forms a square to Pluto (Capricorn)-apex of T-Square cardinal component but will also-as the opposition Moon-Sun (PL) - a nice configuration called the rectangle harmonic opposition Moon-Sun and Saturn-Mars-Uranus / Jupiter linked by a sextile and trine: Moon (Aquarius) sextile Jupiter / Uranus (Aries) trine Saturn (Libra) / March (Virgin) and Sun sextile Saturn / Mars trine Jupiter / Uranus.

The Fire element and method fixed the majority in this PL and the water element is absent : This indicates an environment dominated by enthusiasm, entrepreneurship, self-confidence but also determination, inertial of realization, stabilization. The reactions may be bright, impulsive And can expect a lot of impatience, stubbornness and also an awkwardness or difficulty in expressing feelings. In addition, Venus is the only planet not to receive any aspect and is positioned in the reserved and modest sign of Virgo.

The Cardinal T square * gives lots of energy, dynamism, self-confidence but also brings a degree of aggressiveness, impulsivity. Conflicts can be felt especially in relationships. Pluto in Capricorn incentive to challenge the social structures, to seek progress at this level, make reforms, but it is a way asocial or too radical, that does not receive approval.

Note also two aspects of staggered descending : the first between Pluto (Capricorn), the apex planet Cardinal T-Square and the Sun and the second between Mars (Virgin) and Neptune (Aquarius).
These aspects can lead to circumstances that prevent to make reforms or improvements expected. Despite a strong will and strong determination, there is a lack of common sense, discipline, and in this context the activities may be diverted causing confusion and businesses insecurity. The staggered
* is an aspect that calls for self-improvement. Waning phase, there is a need for purification, regeneration, metamorphosis. Changes in depth are needed but require self-control instincts and impulses.

Added to these aspects of tension opposition of Mercury (Leo) to Neptune (Aquarius) : Mercury in Leo likes the franchise, but unequivocally things Neptune in opposition brings a lot of confusion of ideas, a lack of adaptation to reality, a dispersion of the mind. Hopefully

that all these energies will be used positively to correct inadequate mental attitudes that can lead to destructive actions or abuse of power, will or control.

Furthermore, the planets forming the opposition's T-square are connected to a different configuration: the rectangular harmonic which, hopefully, will soothe and to evacuate the high voltage power. * The rectangle
harmonic fosters personal and spiritual growth. It makes you creative, innovative, intuitive, perceptive and able to use our energy properly, to our ideals in practice. The focus
Sextiles communication, objections can access a broader vision by integrating complementary and conflicting values and trines provide stability usual.

Braving the storm ... While the Full Moon gives us an increased awareness of things, instead let us lead bales or in the depths, then use these powerful energies that drive us to dare to undertake but also realized.
We are increasingly realizing that social and individual needs are changing and we must live in harmony one with others, without conquest of power, but with altruism, benevolence, fairness and responsibility. Fast forward courageously
and let us be guided on the other side of the lake as Jesus did with his disciples ( Storm Lake ), with faith, confidence, abandoning our fears. Let us draw beyond ourselves, beyond our ego, to new ways of living and being.

You can not choose how you die or when. But you can decide how you want to live now. Joan Baez


* Sources: sites Astrotheme ; Around the Moon ; Free Astrology .

Friday, July 9, 2010

2010 Bmi Data For Females

Palais Royal, Musée du Louvre (Theorem ends of the world) each rose

Palais Royal, Musée du Louvre
Theorem ends of the world


Whipped by winds laden with salt, foaming squall attacked, knocked out by tireless waves, here's a tip of the dying world . The elements, however, violent and tyrannical, do not reach. Not that he feared the water, the wind is not likely to win. This side of the world at dusk suffocating under the burden of idiots trampling of misfits of all kinds. They spread by the liking of the pilgrimages of the plates without foundation, and dig the granite of their bottomless stupidity. By dint of prejudice they attack the rock. The ends of the world, gagged and attached to the earth by these despicable links, rear up in vain under the lash of the executioner. Slowly through the crowds syphilitic beats, they are transformed into images gently docile.

They are hunted, it dims their prospects, saturating the horizon of our eyes opaque, there violates hours and deserts adolescents.
We want to find the edge of steep cliffs an excuse to finally stop racing too vain. On blank backgrounds, dreams can crawl lazy quiet. A continuous rumble, stabbed several times by the cries of birds sea, are silent consciences in lack of eloquence.

is what we search, this is what we find.

few brown rocks and gray bowed to wear waves stubborn. Off the haze of the escapees, singing shipwrecked, those lands that had made them sick strong. Faces wrinkled by the harsh light, contorted by the wind flying, grinning gaze in a mirror too honest. Indistinct sounds and whistling in ears reddened by the cold, penetrating the abyss dug by silence. And then the white birds that pierce the sky, and long arrows to trace, inviting us to follow them. But the crowd drawn does not fly. It barely rises to heaven.


I'm up like them on the edge of a platform, and covering my eyes with an unsteady hand. I scan the end of the tunnel where escape routes, awaiting the appearance of life-saving lights. The horizon suddenly began to roar, and life happens in a violent storm. The doors open and flowing waves bursting on the platform. I bathe in a sea of bodies pressed stirred. Floating on the waves like a skinny foam, a metallic voice sketch a few words: "Palais Royal Museum Louvre. Palais Royal, Musée du Louvre. "

The metro go splashing a few more human waves. All their eyes staring at me, and stand by their looks translucent walls, before breaking down on me when the doors open. The tide brings its share of defeated faces, faces rebuilt, desperate species, exotic smells and reflections misleading. Some treasures lost, resurface from the depths, run aground here. Birds of prey, white and liars, roam continuously above the endless stream of castaways. J'ancre few times my two feet on the platform, playing withstand such furious currents. Reflux already sucking me out to sea, and the gaping doors rush my neighbors. On them the doors close and the train takes them to these places curious: the future for them in the past for me. It makes us strangers to some vague recollection of a few metros to each other. My stoic reflection on car windows is mixed with a hundred faces. The features of foreigners involved in my picture, share a moment my immobility. For a time a little deformed morphology mine. What will remain about those fingerprints?

On the platform against my body slips heat from other bodies. It's a sweet oil covering my skin, warm and velvety. It rarely affects me, but I caressing warmth. That of a breath, that of a bare arm, they radiate around me. Every moment lost world touches me. Some deported, others leave, and uprooted, rushing through all this mess as quickly as possible.

I enjoy the luxury of being motionless when everyone flees. It is good to be resigning from all these soldiers. Here, the door between the worlds is always ajar, and life rushes in drafts. On this platform crowded I'm almost there. That's my side of the world, in the heart of the city. I can imagine her sweet solitude, his broad outlook. Where so many others escape, my delight is to stay. I let me run around the life and looks away from the train when I'm older. On board I notice, sitting and resigned, following me an evil eye, that I should be. My armor orphan disappears in a crowded car, and my bare skin breathes through every pore musk inhuman city suffocating. I stand with feet together on a pocket handkerchief. I feel free, gently caressed by a world that passes and grazes, and I finally cajole with the softness of indifference. I should stifle me and I relish the thought of gray in this infinity of rising air above me, where this white column stretching my mind, my new horizons that finally emerges. My freedom

precariously above my head, I walk slowly towards the gates of the palace, happy as a drunk lying in a soft drink, becomes an acrobat on a long steel wire. This is the thread that twists to follow dance steps. But fortunately the drunkard will ever know.

The door of the palace is guarded by a few violinists. Arching me, I avoid the blows of bows. Soldiers musicians to launch my pursuit of Baroque masterpieces. My ears are struggling painfully and break these siren songs. How many hostages bewitched, aligned in rows petrified, never crossed the doors of the palace? I sing in my head to kill a cacophony. I walling in these dissonances, I cross the door, barely scratched by the bows of violinists. I caught my breath, adjust my head above my freedom in a column, and puts down my armor of false notes. Here melodious silence resonates. I open and my eyes look painted the walls of the castle.
I'm in an asylum, in the heart of the garden the world of men has surrendered. As they escape the madness here in the world. The reason away in a subway, the moral agony at the entrance of the palace, a violin string around the neck.

The thick walls compress the universe. It rises in vain trying to overflow, but the columns stretch endlessly into the clouds. Dark galleries surround the garden with a ribbon of thick darkness. They offer many opportunities convicts that pierces the day sometimes. Daggers of light leave white scars along this cloister. A little light comes into the garden, do not look out. I would turn for hours in these galleries, walking spiral down towards me. I spend a few nights alone. Hide behind some columns of speakers, they trample if we were not careful. Their cold remains they observe the round that I dance every night. One sometimes comes up to me, grabbed me on the wrist or ankle and sings in my ear:

"You cross the icy night galleries,
Changing men around you as strangers. Erasers
you so quickly exchanged glances?
columns without name yet have a past, and the red stone
before our
kisses ... Who am I?
Am I the cold body of a wounded lover?
Look in my neck of the traces you left, my body
On your touch have carved marble
The inhuman badge of love forgotten. "

I listen without looking. When I look back, it disappeared. Line running between the columns of disturbing noises.

I sit on a bench with a book in hand. The sun bleaches thought the pages and words escape to some gray area. The pages turn, the words escape. The book is almost completely white when my brother joined me. In silence, he changes the words a few fleeting glances much. His lips move in the eloquence of his eyes. Still lost in opium, which made him appear cottony, it reassures me:

"Here I put everything away, our games, our fears are safe.
Everything is in place, you will recover everything.
Here nothing has changed, the years between us
fill the distance that sometimes separates us
Blooming silences that climb to the columns.
And along these ivy, we assemble all
We will have fun hats that these people Have
nailed their heads to keep their mind. Ours
evaporates from childhood
A permanent summer distills our reasons. "His voice

soft and soothed is lost in the vegetation. The lindens

under the sun cry a subtle fragrance. At their feet are sometimes raises dust rose. It comes powdering their leaves, giving them a dark green grave solemnity. Roses to the beauty carnivore sharpen their spines. Behind fine mesh, they burst out laughing, calling their victims by launching their nose heady scent.

My pants up at the top of my calves, I bathe my bare feet into the blue water of the fountain. A jet of water in the air sends joyous singing and fresh amid the tawny dust. I press against the gritty concrete of the bottom skin of my soles, and I walk towards the water jet, almost paralyzed by the pleasure of the water caress my legs. I send my eyes into the air with jets of water, and they sparkle like drops too crazy, before falling into a gleeful roar. On the edge of the pond, an old girl up on his pride is getting ready to dive. She undoes her hair, losing eight inches and almost as many years, and disappears into the wave. She reappears later, in another appearance, surmounted by a lily.
"- it is not bad today!
- Pardon?
- The rhyme, a young man I find it amusing.
- Do you ice does not Madam? You seem to shiver.
- I tremble for my friend I'm cold for you. You grab the dead, beware!
- Because I am afraid ma'am, especially to catch cold.
- Dive is my friend, better lives than die shivering warm. You will see the rhyme is good it can be done quickly!
- My feet already there bathe, and my body freezes at every step.
- You're so cautious, so fragile! Clown protecting yourself that way you condemn. The tide rises. So dive before it overwhelms you. You learn to swim.
- I can Madam, let me awhile.
- Hurry you young man, the evening approaches, and the rhyme is less forgiving at dusk. Pick today the roses of life, do not wait until tomorrow ... "And the rhyme
overwhelms the apparition.

night fell, an opera dance between the columns of the back door. I am and give myself some time to him. Here I am again outside the palace. I feel in my back the hot breath of the horse of the Place des Victoires. He drove me to my house, I hear his hooves on the pavement in Paris. I told him about my day, it leaves me at my doorstep, and I fall asleep finally at the end of the world. I am alone, I crush a wink that violate the anonymous my dream, I populate the streets of poetic creatures.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

House Names For Kerala House



FIRST AID

Today I wish to thank all my heart the man who saved the life of my beloved niece!
During the laying of noon she ate with her co-workers a pizza. She wanted to swallow a morsel of food and choked. She could not breathe. She thought she would die.
Luckily someone next to her was the right thing. My niece who has the first aid certificate will be grateful all his life to his comrade.
You who read me learn lifesaving techniques, this can save a life! Thank you