Monocular Used Bourne Ultimatum

Portrait Competition Rules

Amid a heavy night I could see a silhouette that ran through my house if it were death itself, which if you were that close friend who sleeps in my own bed, living inside me, consuming me day after day, night after night. I approached her as my appreciation for myself I'd never allowed to touch her, kissed her and in the midst of this dream at night I fell at his feet. I could clearly see me as all my memories were erased and gradually each of the parts of my body was giving up his usual behavior pain away from me.

woke in the middle of a terrible anxiety, fearing that this would not have been more than a vain dream, an illusion of such a pleasant destination. All aparentaba estar exactamente igual, pero presentía que había algo que faltaba en este sitio, algo sumamente importante, algo que le otorgaba valor a todo lo demás, recorrí los claustrofóbicos pasillos de tan antigua casa uno por uno, sin embargo, no pude encontrar aquello que era tan insignificantemente importante que le daba el valor a todo lo que constituía este lugar.

Era el atardecer cuando aun no encontraba respuesta alguna a tan inquietante cuestionamiento, el reloj marcaba las seis treinta de la tarde cuando un ave cayo del techo, un cuervo que observaba atentamente al sauce seco del frente de la casa con tan asombrosa concentración que parecía un animal disecado, no movía un muscle, not a feather. For more than three hours beheld so exquisite specimen and observed no sign of life in the creature I approached it much as I could, but being a few inches of it is gone.

Terrified, I ran in search of the laundry, but unlike many other times did not find it in its usual place. At this very moment I heard a noise coming from the living room, where I went immediately leaving me with curiosity. Upon arriving there I noticed a special table, a table that never in my life I had noticed, the portrait of a thin man a little paler than the dim light of dawn, with eyes completely unfocused and lackluster. Attracted by such an image was approaching slowly, quickly noticing that as I approached, the image in the portrait was expanding, however, when I was close enough to touch, I noticed the crow again looking to the sauce, fear this time I think I let my actions and gave him first thing I found in my power, but nevertheless, just before the object will play the raven disappeared again, leaving me perplexed again as inexplicable situation. Once recovered from that problem, I headed back to the table and when it is directly in front raised my hand to touch, but at the very moment that I touched, everything was gone, my thoughts, images, sounds, everything.

All around me was dark, if you can ascribe to that place so that no quality significantly. However, there was something about me, it was probably all that was in place apart from myself, and I felt in a way that had not felt in my entire life, as something as cold as the ice touched my shoulder, followed a melodious voice that whispered extravagantly my ears the following verses:

"The sauce is dry, the dead bird

and only the soul of the owner is

That you do not sigh, do not feel the wind

That all his life, was less than a dream

Now close your eyes

not hear a lament

And at last the agony is the the wind "


Bélzagar Leonhard. Slytherin

Homemade Sourcream And Onion Potato Chips

CHRONIC "a boy ... a man ... a hero"

When life gives you point your feet in the coconuts, some writhing in pain, some weeping, others hold up playing the role of "macho tough." But some people smile, give him a hug and invite him kicking a day of Pilsen and video games to ease the pain, talk of love and put the world ... that kind of person is my brother.

A conchesumadre worthy of any comic book geek cartoon where one picture to another, plays a Pokemon, a "gers" and a moth without recrimination why for some big nose pointed it branded a child.

A real action hero, which reaches 100 levels Kaioken to defend those he loves and becomes the Father Hurtado to comfort, heal your wounds dressed and mental ...
trend
A child with a man who is happy not because of what has or may have ... but because they set up their lives as well, with the simplicity of a touch ...

A Kiltro with large heads and look humble, inviting the alcoholic turns to walk under their protection

That's my brother ... complexly simple man, a fool highbrow, an ideal imaginary friend ...

He knows more than he understands, loves more than you feel, living without living the life, run without waiting to reach the end, smile because it needed laughter in the world ...

is a child ... a man ... a hero ... and achievement become an urban legend ...

congratulations on your birthday 30 Kangrejo!

Why Doesmy Oovoo Sidebar Only Work

Chronicle of "buttocks engulfed in flames"

-and how have you been? - Asked the Nita, trying to get my voice was something charming to flirt without success otherwise.

- well, he answered the black without any skirmish to determine in my head a flirtation with flavor lust. Derrepente, without warning, a room was just steps away from us, is thrown a chair by the window and a six-foot African black man runs like a cheetah would eat in the bush.

In an instant, no time to brood over what happened, we agree with the black telepathic detention and we stand, seeing more going on in the room.

People start crowding around sucucho and shocked when we all start out the fire. The language reminded me of Gene Simmons in a KISS concert with one brandishing a sword of China's film as stale and underground.

-BRINGS THE EXTINGUISHER !!!... SALE WEON ... HELP! - Was heard between steps and micro stressed, when magically nymphs begin walking machines that were within that localcillo, their work uniforms, prepared from a thread dental and a couple of stickers of smiley faces on each nipple sucker.

buttocks out one by one to an accelerated rate, being buffeted by the flames that seemed to master the old farm.

The parade was complete. Oxygenated went topless blondes with glitter on her shoulders and blushed with half ass, that were it not for the fire situation, I would think it was red with embarrassment, but rather the minute nangazos happy Colombians. Then came a tall brunette and elegant nose, it looked a leatherette jacket provided by a good Samaritan, but it did not cover those orange cheeks numb. Finally came two chiquititas red and brown hair who wore a loincloth dentistry of exceptional quality, and that spanking of that tongue of fire could not burn the uniform even when I leave a couple of blisters coquettish in their 'fesses. "

- Brig! - Was the most accurate comment that I outlined in my lips at the Creole incendiary performance.

The morbidity and printing had to Nita perplexed watching the scene, but could not stop watching the show.

amague the end extinguished the fire in tears of coffee and the nobility of the tenants who offered assistance, so we continued our journey towards Piojera ... hoping maybe start our own private fire, between old pipeñeros forgotten ports and boleros.



Greetings.

White Stuff By Clitoris

CHRONIC "a beautiful wound" chronicle of

derrepente, walking in some corner of Central Santiago, visiting some cochitril smelly, I prepare to take the bus that had long ago forgotten by the subway train, so my address that day took a course years ago forgotten. Agreement

my bag next to my left hand and pulled the MP3 to hear a song from "Sin Bandera" that transported me to a time of love and happiness, way down south ... dear south.

looking forward not because my walking is kind of slow and entrapment, which leads me to ride with his head down so as not to trip over some stuff and a hard time.

Suddenly, something made me look up and far away transantiaguistico near a bus stop, I spot a familiar silhouette and a walk, which somehow squirmed my stomach, giving me to try again, a cauliflower tortilla that afternoon chew at lunch.

not want to see, no smell, or feel to know that she was. beautiful and proud woman who was the only love I've known so far.

I blush immediately and almost in unison, I can feel a breath of fresh fruit aromas that every night he invited me to kiss her and say "I love you black."

My eyes wanted to mourn and did not know that, my hands wanted do something but could not understand why they were left sweaty and quiet in a jacket pocket fictitious non-existent.

Each of the steps he took, were a fool, wandering in the Great Metropolis, that at this stage of mental clutter, no longer seemed so big, because this meeting infortuitamente below ... for many years.

was much more beautiful than that one time when I said "no I love you" and his eyes had acquired a real security and not that which is hidden under the eaves of a haughty tramp to humiliate anyone willing to pay for the sins of their insecurity.

As we walked, I looked up to not look like a falsehood stupid to wait almost 2 blocks for the match and watch their eyes, those eyes that stood out in your skin beautifully painted cinnamon soaked in rum.

looked at me and those 2 seconds where apretose my throat while I leave breathing, became a scene from a movie of love whimpering.

- that is beautiful ... what a beautiful thought ...- while feeling those 13 hairs touched me just before it disappeared from my peripheral vision shit.

did not recognize me.

kept walking, thinking a moment to turn around and hoping also that she was doing the same ... but I could not, fear I broke the lovesick neck.

She did not recognize me. Not because today, physically this different, or because hueona has been made, but because the only thing to that would be where we looked like teenagers in love was gone ... did not recognize me because I did not love me ...


But I did it. I if the recognition ...


Greetings!