Pergola Shade Cloth Best Colour

Done various

I climbed into this car under the fire of forty looks tired and frustrated. I caught two brown circles detailing lewd to me quietly, as the hungry in the middle of Lent evaluates a nun chubby chocolate in the window of a bakery manager impeccable cholesterol an upscale neighborhood. As if I were a sweet treat that can be slipped in and buy some euros.

Then I curled up against the sharp elbow of a woman who threw me my immiscion denouncing both eyes in his car, as if I had stabbed a taxi under the nose, this idiot who takes public transport COMMON.

Then I saw the two lovers. Tiny man and woman smiling at her ugly, as he pretended not to see. The kind of person who prefers to shoot his mouth rather than dump a girl crazy for him, and he dislikes. The kind who prefers not to be tender and refuse kisses rather than remain single because the kind of woman he condescends to find attractive does not linger a moment on his person abhorrent and scowling.

Then I saw the woman too much makeup. The woman sad clown. The woman all smeared with multi color gold rings on his fingers dancing pudgy, puffy eyes tired, his eyelids closed Electri blue, her lashes painted color of the sky collapsed on her cheeks blushing from being coated with a red tint young girl as inappropriate.

I tell myself that it is perhaps the only thing a little pathetic this car filled with vomit as selfish, mindless savages.

When a great big silly mouth to daubed on stilts instantly pulls me from my reverie by making it a point to spread its weight of large oafish, right on the nail of my right big toe. So

pain makes me react and I hit a lot of my lethargy. This lethargy was fierce due to me for too long. This lethargy that flew like a stream of air slamming a door with a jerk and said, suddenly leaving room for a perfect serenity full of quiet, luxury and voluptuousness.

Then I finally realized that what is really lacking in our society, that only real problem where it hangs, what is absolutely worse, is the sense of touch, human relationships: it is touch! All we really touch, shit, it's true, I think, transcended! We meet up, we meet, but we do not really touch! Not enough.

So I pushed with all my strength to my elbow into my side of the idiot who had not removed his from all the way, I pressed my heel of a huge kick in that of the bitch who did not apologize, I grabs the arm of the pervert who was waiting, offered, clinging to the bar to bacteria, however tempting, is right under my nose, and I bitten until the blood as he continued staring at me, making my personal tribute to Twilight and humble, my favorite movie. Finally, I fixed the ugly woman in love with the tiny man, the egotist with cold air and sickened, and right in my eyes I told him:
- Loose this context. He will love you forever.

Then the doors opened, and the crowd aside from me, to let me pass. And in a very quiet, I made my changes and the rest of my journey, until the guys in uniform put me in a large private car. And there, in the back, I wiped the blood on my skirt in dark gray. Nothing to do, it was already dried. It was just me in the police van. In the calm, serene, and finally I could quietly travel.

Can Running Cause You To Miss Your Period

Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte

Suite and end (proposed another purpose)

Why bother?
I wanted to be the unseen demiurge a kaleidoscopic abyss, a cathedral-geode, with a thousand shades of light, the taste of real raw, palpable, oozing, vibrating, sour, bitter, sweet. I wanted to transcend the ink, paper, and these mysterious signs coming to hit him, rape him in order to carve, to engrave the movement. I wanted to build abyss lined with many treasures, dizziness wonderful dream stone. Qu'enfantent but my words? I do meaning that the acrid sweat of my fear incapable of mute despair my face at all, given the Ultimate Beautiful face. I do taste more words - Switch off the night, switch off the night - I only see lines, footprints, shadows and silhouettes, disjointed phenomena. My heart shook Babel - switch off the night-darkened all my "I" choked on the edge of the universe. And if that does not work? I do not want their journey is an infinite path in a country desperate for a platitude - it's not Belgium, which have no smell, no color, no emotion to give. And if the letters do not aggregating more, and does not model these worlds, lives bleeding, throbbing, only to be encouraging results of immateriality of ghosts? If they were not fooled by the hoax? Blessed little trick, pretty little wonder. This failure to me stomach clenches. They say, "How boring, even a ladybug who sees himself as the Milky Way" and I will be ashamed, and I would hide in a corner, but there will not, because it's my eyes that I will watch. It is I who shed the tears of disgust - disgust tearful, sweet, love to own this small vanity. I will revert to a small pile of nothing. I'm afraid - and this fear is fleeting, ghostly, it comes and goes - is the tide of doubt, I must be a titan to silence, and my increased efforts, plowing, clearing, turn the world up to sweat in all that I know / am.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around, but I do not see anyone. There is nobody, but I feel there is a hand on my shoulder, I feel this warm hand, that supports living on my shoulder. I close my eyes. Top

heart.

Black. The die.

("Notice" Reading this text weird: The quotes that sometimes the "I" that talks are not really addressed to the reader, but more a kind of body, presence best - like when you (or I 'm the only one?) shows a "they" invisible things of course no national human action, the rain, bad luck, in short, that depends on the unknown that believers will call God). Here he talks about his dream of puppeteers, the sadist who will play with his nerves ... I wanted here-that is zero to talk like that, but even more if no one does anything - try to put black on white if this kind of discourse-specific dream, deconstructing it, the strange logic that drive etc..).
As for the title, this is a verse of the Aeneid, well known for the fine example of hypallage it offers, for those who feel insulted, this is the hypallage figure of speech which reverses Qualifying (I explain very badly), the translation will make perhaps the clearest thing> "They go, dark, lonely in the night." (That night is dark and they are lonely ...) It's nice eh? It is fute-fute this Virgil!