te observam atent,încercând să te provoc să ataci situatii in care greșești...și ai greșit..dar greșeala te făcea perfectă pentru mine. Acestea sunt creeatiile lui Dec.I , lasati o parere, dar usor cu criticile ca sunt slab de inima
Citește mai departe<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 21 false false false RO X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]>
Citește mai departeNu am mai scris de mult, Deci a revenit timpul să îmi definesc cuvintele, Ideile care îmi bântuie spiritul sărac de ceva vreme, Precum un șarpe în așteptare ... lângă sânul unei femei virgine, Amenințând fricos pieptul neștiutor, neatins, Cuvinte ce se pierd în neuronii orfani ai prezentului trecut, Serpuind în cunoașterea stirba a experienței tinere, naiva, Rime inveninate de sentimentele pierdute în urma ultimei iubiri neimpartasite din metrou, Pierdute în nopțile pline de aburii alcoolului și de simțul străin și dulce al buzelor străin
Citește mai departe<!-- ufos post 5... Read more ...
Citește mai departeI was just lying, on the floor here, Bleeding out...all that sacred death. It then came to my mind... I know why we are all so blind and deaf! It is the hunger for superficial That's keeping us all tied up, With eyes wide shut And our mouths all sutured up ...Infected from that rusty barb wire... Which keeps us grounded. Such lovely light flyers...! But nothing is out of the ordinary... All these mutated corpses That are still breathing Material putrefaction, Are all human beings. They are continuously trying to stop dying. It is the battle within That keeps us goin'. Take action! Clean your self up, after every fall, When your bones are crushed
Citește mai departe<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 21 false false false RO X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]>
Citește mai departeSticleții zburau ca fluturii turbați într-un miros de paradis îmbâcsit de petrol, oamenii își făceau cruci cu mâna lor dreaptă și cu singurelele lor trei degete rămase în urma minciunilor de-o viață. Eu miroseam a insolație și îmi tăram bocancii prin praf, mă simțeam un punct de sudură ștrangulat cu toata forța de soartă . Dacă așa a fost să fie așa este, tot auzeam. Dacă așa a fost să fie hai să facem să nu mai fie așa. Corcodușe în zăpadă - mă gândeam. Am ajuns la 20 de ani, și eu înca știu să mă joc, dar de data asta cu sufletul meu.
Citește mai departe"So.. this is Valhala!"The wind blew by with fiercesome force. Some tiny bits of blood and pieces of gutter flew right before his eyes, followed by a muffled scream he couldn't even hear anymore."Fucked be the Gods." ***"Yes, I'm in Valhala!"The wind blew by with a quite exquisite force and some toes that were covered in fresh, smelly blood flew past. They were followed by some horrid sreams.The blade in your hand shatters under the might of some creepy looking blunt weapon that hit its surface, making it vibrate itself to mere shatters of steel.**Gl-cc-kk!**Your neck is opened wide and a disgusting stream of blood flows right out of it. You try to clear your head and... ***"Cursed be thy name!"A gust of wind hits your face with a cold spike of pain that makes your teeth feel like cracking down under
Citește mai departeNathan: That horrible, horrible fool!Jakob: SHe got you all worked up, didn't she?N: How could she not? That little, feeble minded idiot. If I were to explain to someone what Ultracrepidarian means, I could save myself the pain and just show a bloody picture of her.J: She does talk quite big, doesn't she?N: Perhaps to make due for the tiny little thing she should be using to bake that child already. Anyway, not the point.J: Is there a point?N: There always is, mon ami.J: How come you didn't say anything to her while she was discussing her intellectual preoccupations?N: Intellectual: Pff! This is the biggest problem with these tiny minds, really. Sometimes I wonder how their brain works. I'm quite certain, nonetheless, that I wouldn't see a complex painting if I were to browse their synapses, for there aren't too many neurons connected at any point during their tiny lives, in their tiny minds.Personally I've been shocked by an Emi
Citește mai departeA lot of us are broken,A lot of us leave in fearFor gratitude we hold no token,We run scared from things that never really appear.They twist the kinded soulLike gusts of wind from kindred spiritsResembling thorny pieces of charcoalThey fall with darkness and no merits.Never again will they ever regainThe great white-headed beauty they once heldOnly because they can not retainThe Power they had.. for now it is jailedIn their prison of hatred, doom and anxietySo when they smile at you, you feel they are deadYou cry in lonely revery for their striking dreadSwearing upon an ice-cold star that you will seek propriety
Citește mai departe