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Posted on 2007.03.22 at 18:50
Jacky, you're bleeding.
I don't care.
But you are.
Ok, and where am I bleeding from?
Your mouth, you're really bleeding.
Well that's an attraction. Do you want to kiss me?


Posted on 2007.03.06 at 18:54
We Feel: Very much alive.
I asked myself whether I'm dead or not, and didn't know the answer.
And then I asked you.


Posted on 2007.02.13 at 17:25
At first it didn't really feel like, happiness, although the other feelings were absolutely there.
At first there even was no pain. The pain started only when I noticed I'm crying and understood that the reason is pain itself. And so, continuing to stand with my face to the wall, I tried to break my nails pushing my fingers against it.
I was bleeding, obviously, and I would have been laughing sweetly at myself and at the world, if I wasn't afraid the tears will choke me when I open my mouth.
Forcing the happines to appear from the beautifully glowing darkness, I desperetly tried to scream. And tried again, and would have tried in the third time, but it was terrifying to think he is able to hear me.
When I was standing with my face to the grey wall, making myself look at the floor and wishing I was blind, I understood what a wonderful place this filthy world is! How marvelous.
Yes, now I'm saying it and no one believes, because of my reason, but if I would've said it five hundered years ago and mentioned it.
Execution! Screamed the old man, and the others repeated. Execution!
And not even because of the disgustingly sweet idea of sadness and rust, but only because I would have told the audience all the small details of my wonderful reason. And that audience, the five-hundered-years-ago audience, would believe me. Believe every word I say. Execution!


Getting A Haircut.

Posted on 2007.02.01 at 22:40
We Feel: glacial
She took the bottle from the table, and poured the ink into her mouth.
She was silent for a few second, and then tried to get some sound out of her throat.
She screamed for a while, and even I don't know why.
She opened her mouth and started touching her pale, stitched in the middle, tongue.
After that she took the scissors out of the left drawer, and started cutting her long black hair, till it became short. Kind of like Frida Kahlo's.


With My Finger In My Mouth

Posted on 2007.02.01 at 18:54
We Feel: so disappointed
The writer is tired of ignorant creatures reading here and thinking he is a sicko.
Because the writer is not a sicko.
And that's why we all wish the ignorant creatures a Long and painful death. We all want to cut the ignorant creatures' tongues, to pierce their eyes, to tear out their fingernails, to cut off their hair and stick it in their mouth.
And if the ignorant creatures have wings, although I highly doubt that, we will break them. And the creatures will never fly again :)

Happy holiday everyone,


Something to tell the kids.

Posted on 2007.01.29 at 14:14
She sat on the floor in the corner of the room, and watched him going away.
She looked at her hands. Tried to get up in order to find her nails, and fell down immediately.
She wanted to open her mouth and feel the air in her throat, but didn't want her tongue to fall on the wet floor.
She crawled to the kitchen and took some wires and a needle. She stitched her tongue together, so it won't fall out when she opens her mouth.
Then she found four of her ten missing nails, and glued them to her fingers.


Sally and Patrick.

Posted on 2007.01.15 at 18:05
They were standing on the roof, looking at the harbour - far away. They were standing and standing, on the roof of the building - that were higher than all the other narrow grey houses.
They were standing and standing, feeling the wind on their faces, almost crying.
They were standing and standing, thinking of this whole show called life.
They were standing and standing, and then standing some more.
And more.
And then he started crying out loud, weeping.
And she did the same.
And then, it suddenly crossed their minds.
They need a thing.