Monday, December 28, 2009

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I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you up to you to deteste deteste up to you to deteste deteste deteste up to you to you too deteste deteste deteste up to you to you too deteste deteste deteste up to you to you too deteste deteste maudis up to you to deteste deteste up to you to deteste up to you to deteste deteste deteste up to you to you too deteste deteste up to you to deteste deteste deteste up to you to your deteste t'exècre deteste up to you to you too deteste deteste deteste up to you to you to deteste deteste up to you to deteste deteste up to you to deteste deteste deteste up to you to you too deteste deteste deteste up to you to you to deteste deteste I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I love you.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

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11:56 p.m.

interlude.








When I think of us, I like the hints of bile acid.


I hate the way you look at me. Ta me how
serine how our history is pathetic, it inevitably becomes pathetic to hear you charge the same words with the exact memory of what the previous.
I hate that you have the propensity to urge me to suicide.
Since at the end I'm still alive, more than ever.
My love is a weapon with which I flirt sometimes at night the day, Russian roulette, you know a bullet hit a 6 to join the little death.
All you have me squirted in the face, because that's how I want you.
But let the trivialities to virgins.
We, the beautiful, the organic exploding every time. How we
fits so perfectly, so tragically.

What moves me is not that extreme sentimentality that you learned.
But it is this fragility that you may explain, only when I'll crush that you used to the hilt. This look both servile excites by force my hand employs t'émasculer.
Because sometimes I like to think that I am the man you and the eunuch.
Even if it's a vagina between my legs and once a month I empty my blood like a pig being slaughtered.

- My tear - it is for us that I'm doing this to show you that you love by destroying more briskly, and that the pain is permanently attached enjoyment. Yes. Your tears are significant and no evidence that more flowering of our passion.
I love you hate and suffering, but also resentment.
You're part of me, still remember your scent that pervades my entire apartment.
fumes of a relationship that has clearly failed.
Because there are irrefutably one who loves too much.
In this case it was me.
I, who desired so much something
someone so volatile, fickle, venomous.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

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Exterior.








I am cold in this car.
Where you left me. Look at my lips
Who
fade,
Look debris
From our bastard love.

I Sit and watch you rot. Feel your hair

slipping through my fingers, kiss your body And

As cold embrace life
As I kiss our end.

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344th day. 9:23 p.m. 5:22


NOTHING. nm This is worthless, unimportant thing.





Wait 4:33.
count on the fingers,
The minutes, the miles and years separate us Who
my love.
Games fantasies
I lost control.
Err,
At this moment this moment

Precis.
Your Fingers m'asphyxient
And I dance the last waltz
on your cock. Not

Winter has taken everything.
He took my heart All this

All this
But it will not take my desire
scavenger. My desire to
sad girl
I wrapped in a black ribbon tape to
blood
I will supply with 13 cm heels
is not put hoods
Love is death. Take my arm

And draw me a hope.



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Bourcomptois home

  • On 17 October, took place in our common challenge the Rando-departmental Committee 35 of the RWPF (French Hiking Federation).
    A team representing the "Swing Sole" won the race and was selected to compete in the regional challenge-Rando.
    We can all go support them by participating in the test "Rando challenge discovery" open to all.
    You will find the dates and all information as and blogs by checking the "soles flapping" managed by its members as it
    semellesbattantes.spaces.live.com
    gilbert-tt.blogspot.com

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

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Erotoman nf 1. (psychology) delusion of being loved. 2. (psychology) mental disorder characterized by obsessive sexuality.








Living inside of you, hide me under your shirt, breathe your cigarette like your own smell, kiss with tongue when you feel like you do not want to, tear my eyes and you offer them, screaming and begging, and enjoy throwing guilt, ask yourself if you love me, I feel you tremble when you suck, go wrong with your buddies, you let the words under the pillow, laugh and suffer, listen to your music in a loop, you call at 5am, trying to create with you, cry when you leave, introduce you to my parents die without you, call you stupid names by small, destroy to exist, to love and do not take me up to hurt the enjoyment, wanting to make you gay, plunging my hands into your body still warm, shake your Box, you misrepresent to screw you, eat Japanese to make you happy, dancing naked on the bridge of Avignon drunk, leave and come back, cause fights, drinking and finish to the toilet, do this three to four small important figure more the merrier to one more kiss, be touched, to have a heart torn by opposite asshole, swallow when you spit in my mouth, you say I love you sms, sleeping naked in heels twitter sentences you, threaten you, be consumed by our excesses and our vices, insult you because you're low, ask Edward Cullen to drink my blood, watch movies, love to remind me that it happens but not to me, stop me compromise, you whisper stuff in his ear, do not put hoods, pee in your mouth, dominate and be dominated, to make you cry once, remain friends, draw on your arm, 't excite the Internet, choke in your beard, you cling to the mouth and feel a certain glee, see ya masturbate and ejaculate on my face, your eyes have that plunge into the mine to be two, making love behind, have cravings for simple , botch something beautiful, to fall apart in the garden, but especially love for real and fake.