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sun I wanted to write, and I went night

Justice, and I could only scribble clownish

I wanted to write: I believe you

And just resign myself out .

Lies, lies,

blue uniforms, shouting

black

humiliating nudity.

That smell that gets into the veins, which are not coming from the nose while the scrub with steel

foul-dirty-violent

Terror

Pain Without

calm

Night, abusive

night without stars

bars just before the filth

Impotence

Restlessness

Dreaming those uniforms

fear them

sprout

Sweating

Bleeding inside

And just wanted to write out sun night ... but

Roxana

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untitled discard (the end)

I discard my desire, you discard
feelings ...
We are not U.S.
-terrible truth
We are the union of you and I DISMISSED.
*****************

if I could get to that place in your mind where you hide your fears ( is an expression of desire, just that) but did not arrive, or arrive, we are definitely far


hopeless


waste of a "maybe"
whim excuses
excluded from the love ... (So \u200b\u200bstrange and necessary)

was never, ever
born.

Roxana

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CAUSED RAIN WATER MANAGEMENT ART AND FAITH Arahal

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broken

dizziness, slow (continued)

unconsciousness,
know that nothing is known.


expected - so do not expect -
because she never intended to come.


living-fainting-quasi stayed


breathe slowly.


starting screaming body pieces,
scream unheard by anyone
just inside.


out, mourn
continue ...
almost dead.


with zero expectations, and no chance of meeting.


eating nails.


Scratching the wind.


Drying inside.

http://danzaelarte.blogspot.com/ images

Roxana

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untitled

's not your fault, nor my disappointment

.

is this infinite silence that overwhelms me

part

me
shatters me






Roxana

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Smoking And Planus Lichon

Las Pelotas - Hola Que Tal?

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tempted

I look at my hands, long slender fingers
.
note. They
draw with gentle movements,
are touching ...
that fail to Rozart,
because your body is not at hand.

then ...

rain my hands, and stop moaning.
prosecution, the helplessness of not being able to feel your warmth. -------------------------


But think ... and whisper in my ear (I say that I no longer worry that everything is coming
...)

and they anxiously await the arrival of your hands, your face, your hair, your arms your lips,
(and hope because they know they'll slowly coming)


To my ears and get your voice infinite star crash


In my life you came a long time, your darkness and your light shines on me to calm me. -------------
distance
And if we declare war

feel we can win ...

because soon sleep in your arms, at the park dreamed

and fondling going to run out but never

tired and my hands, my ears and my soul

and do not be surprised because we

the infinite kiss endless and real, that the two, just for today we dream.

I feel

So incredibly close

Always with me ...

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How To Build Bbq Island Plans

... GOAL TO

An accidental double clicking on the video that our friend "Er Pena inserted in his last entry Arahal's blog has led me to another assembly the same author whose images have impressed me. I am no specialist in photography, and I would like, and I can not explain if the intensity of light, contrast, brightness, angle, geometry enclosing or simply what they represent, but some of these pictures, made for the competition organized by the Hdad. of Mercy - correspond to real artists.

I recommend you all for your enjoyment, believers or not, because he who has faith, see God and he who does not see a lot of art focused on images. Congratulations to the authors of these photographs.

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TIRESIAS: THE VISION OF THE BLIND ...

I feel sorry for you, but this your torment, son of the nymph Leiriope, will last until it is know yourself ... and not be discovered by the rest.

Image taken from here .

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implode

Pop
internal

explode in my veins, my organs ...

And my eyes that jump off, and from there

MIRO,

sore-sick.

I can see.

Party. You party .

There is no consistency in your words, no desire, no desire, only those WORDS say.

No matter who or how or why.

and I think I can inject, try to elevate

but ended cayéndome (I'm not as strong as I thought)




Term ***************** accept, that you are who aspires my desire, who will suck a little, he takes them to die elsewhere.


I have seen you do not want to.

I disappear, and it hurts and tears. You

burial.

you cry.

Then and just maybe ... die. ************



RENEW TODAY
in

ALWAYS kill you.

(on me) ***********************

devian art image of Roxana

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Photo taken from here .

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SURVEY: FOURTH work area.

You can vote in the poll that I have placed in the top right. The topic: the new version of Fourth Trabajadera has interpreted the Banda de CC. and TT. Ntro. Padre Jesus Nazareno de Arahal last Easter. My opinion on this is clear and unequivocal, and in turn give to know. What do you think? In addition to cast your vote, you can leave your comment on this post.

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PROGRESS OR YOU THINK, SIMON EVE TIME

Without thinking, we can take the arm that lies beneath the weight of the cross, to lift and without that gesture enough, take the timber and carry it. However, sometimes that's not enough for Cyrene. You need to stare at the offender and stop looking askance at our incipient pain. Ignore our pain and alleviate the sorrow of the offender. That's generosity while difficulty, complexity, a difficult task ... but generous. Therein lies the true love. Forget your belly button, keep the mirror, think about walking with his sentence. I know that his conviction is not fair! And although impotence begrudge us, we must not blind our eyes to let merciful. Maybe you can do more than you think, carry the cross in a different way, with humility, care, gently, with love ... That's where you have to look at your reflection in the clear water where light passes through while it reflects. Shed of the package to release the soul and let your heart take the cross without asking anything in return. That's your task, Simon, but do not hesitate to count on me to suspend you under the weight of the tree, still wearing on my own.

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who are you?

It's like seeing you,
-but do not know who you are-

Because you are not the same.

He could touch me that night,
"touch my soul, I mean
that.

You look but not see,
to that ...

VEO,
a body that breathes, the image

past was reality.

Reality is now emptied of everything
pathetic and full of feelings,
DEATH fills you breathe in the distance, and so close-

feel and
HATE LOVE both .
I get confused, I'm confused.

I can only kneel, surround yourself slowly.
Treat,
just try, that tremble not so much ...

fear and tremble with fear
impotence
Damn
impotence.



and my tears, and yours

what was

it will not be what it is.

slowly dies.


(images devian art) Roxana

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faces? FAR

yesterday morning

ever now and why.

Because I

or come

, or am

Inertia.

interference.

unwanted thoughts

unconscious revealed

, in a finger

a grimace.

GRIN

learned, but I learned .

arise outrageous, uncontrollable.

I callus.

I can look at me, blowing

earth that covers my body completely naked

me literally stripped of everything.

disgusts me to think, move

me

back

; forward

ever TODAY.

Today, now, it hurts-

Today is never.

Help,

order

claim

help.

not get ... ever (not yesterday, not tomorrow, not today)

scattered smiling at nothing,

Grinning,

naked.

Vomiting, Emiko

angry shouts.

Cursed

destination.

ERROR ERROR ERROR

Everything comes to the point, permanent

of ambiguity.

blunt knife that stabs me.

ERROR-ERROR-ERROR

'm not a poet, NO SOY ... Roxana

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far detuned

brutally deafening ...


And I sleep
and just get at me.
Watch me and not see NOTHING.
not find /
do not see /
not find.


I understand / I

yellow fingers badly painted nails
that break, break. Body
loses day to day what he knew desired.


And the sun it hurts my eyes, those cavities filled and so distant.
and blind me, it hurts me.


ERROR / wrong / CONFUSION


dagger in the head friction impossible
two
friction alone.
Inventing / you / we

Nailing my nails into the skin
to never feel.

Sola
blocked
isolated


in thinking in the fucking
thought


hallucinating delirium

madness

NEED

touch.

I stop ...
not reach.


Unreachable, implausible,
(for me)


inexpressible.
MOUTH SHUT,
slow action.


FOREVER.


unsatisfied, repressed, stifled.


ME.

Roxana

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not

life is not like to live ...
live, is to be awake if you wanted to sleep forever, life
is hope, an illusion, is holding onto a dream, and living reality that has touched in luck. Living

turns into passing ...
miss, sometimes to die every second,
live or die ...

died, in life, living
died on me as I am dead long

blood on the floor,
glass pieces that take children,
and hurt, deeply hurt, hurt to kill, living,
living dead living with nothing


if
without
be no peace


without artificial, artifice
malignant

today are white ... am not ...

but the essence is red ...
help to continue living without life, without a fucking trace of life-PD


not corrected, even lei wrote this q, vomiting
this "nothing" to live without life passes by Roxana

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