Maine Vehicle Inspection Seven Days

# 18 # 17 Paris Paris

Neither yes nor no

(Corey Arnold http://a-dream-like-this.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2008-03-12T13% 3A53% 3A00-07% 3A00 & max-results = 7)

How to find a semblance of coherence? Since
me what my favorite is paradox. So yes I
starving and eating makes me sick, I listen to the TV with eyes closed, eyes open I sleep when I'm exhausted. I would call someone to explain to him calmly that I will see him again, and mean the exact opposite. Luckily, I did not contact her.
I have all the answers. Neither yes nor no. I do not understand everything. Why
absolutely seek happiness? Since
me what I really love is crying and sniffing.

Grandis Justine please. And not much later that I do not really remember when I dreamed that my cat died. Last vestige of my childhood. Not home, neither the Board nor the parents together, chat Pépette is all that remains. Poor little thing, on whom falls the responsibility to tell me in a dream that my adult life began.

My adult life?
And the vagaries of childhood?
All this looks like a big pillow down, I forgot to change the alarm time, I remain at winter time, that of hibernation and sleep. I left an hour early childhood where every day of the week look like a holiday. Easter Monday is one of my preferred. The sidewalks are empty, and all the people who are usually there on purpose, I know, for me are upset that day too busy to eat eggs in small families, in the hail, well done. They do not understand that rabbits do not come out of hats but the bag boys. I obviously I expect that ensure a lollipop-shaped heart, which has the taste of love. For now, only the dye job my child's lips.

I love people, but not all the time, not when they prevent me from advancing in museums and give me the impression of being contraflow with impunity. This week at the Cartier Foundation, apparently, are the people we just observe. It's obscene, I do not see much, especially the beautiful world that looks on masturbating, and this couple who only kiss, and those who only yell at each other, strategically placed just in front of my nose. I thought the opening of Patti Smith, not in a box swinger. I do not know if I'm frigid or if this does not affect me, not even the fingertips.

What has happened since adolescence?
Where is John?
John is in the Kitchen, uh no sorry, my mistake, John is up your ass.La cow, English classes have changed since the 6th B. Neither mother nor whore, but increasingly hard to look coy.
I'm slammed, clicked, hungry, all the bulbs have farted. This would be much easier if it were enough to double click, if you could control right click to swallow and be satisfied.

When I was little, the "yes or no" I answered systematically 'bah of course. " But there's always a day we have done, and it was one where I said, very sure of myself, "Duh of course not." Today, I finger a semblance of solution.
Finally, a solution that is somewhere between yes and no.

Nick Jonas In Hospital

Gazette Gazette

not eat your fingers!

(Alex Prager http://a-dream-like-this.blogspot.com/)

I'm in my head, I am. I'm in my head, I am. I am, here I am. Where are you? I know.
Stop asking questions. I surrender. Everyone is silent. It just takes a break this week, because I can not take more. They act like babies it sucks his thumb rather than to eat the fingers, only two possible answers, yes, no, love, love it. I do not think, I do not think I'm not, you do not see me.

That's a challenge or I do not know. I close my eyes, damn, the parasites are still there, my brain is full of interference ... I'm trying to deceive, to wash me with the baby Cadum, I have trouble finding recklessness. I even dreamed that I was skating on gravel. Great, great moment of loneliness, my knees all skinned.
Good, but what do you do when you do not you think? You enjoy life, like bah, it's a good one, is not it a bit too easy? Me because I feel it is the main narrator and I, sometimes actor and spectator, in spite of myself. As if a parallel story stuck to my ass. Obviously, I am more.

I put the head on the belly of my sister, the big protective bubble, the shell through which we listen to the sea I am the heart of the mother, and I mean that of the child. It makes a reassuring thud, they look good both in there. And then I tell myself that the baby still has the unlikely chance of not hearing the big shit with distinction and vulgarity that my ears are sometimes victims.

The other day at the laundromat, that slut, I almost bake him head in the electric dryer. Fortunately, my mind wanders and I remember the ghosts of my girlfriends:
- I want him to take me on the washing machine, but I dare not ask him.
- Bah me it is not practical, we do the laundry at laundromat.
And that's where the mediocrity of daily life can be improved. When a Saturday afternoon, you buy a machine wash at Darty. It is in these moments that the options are all their interest, it is not the time to skimp on a full program with prewash, wringing, drying, ironing, marriage. Take the whole range.
I do not listen to music for the pleasure of hearing the three albums endlessly running loop on my mp3. My headphones are there in case of extreme emergency, distress or the bitch crying children, worst of banality, something of the life that one can hardly escape. "Pass me the salt," all this is not for me. You may say, we will not make a comedy music every time bah ... well c'mon pass me the salt ...

Poor little thing. No, no, do not go out. Do not let yourself be, bikinis have replaced wool tights Monoprix, but it is a delusion, it is still too cold. Take my example, when it hails, I stay at home, in life, always try to take advantage of a lull. Little child, you make the smart, huh. When I grow up I'll be .... Blah, if you think it is also piece of cake. You'll answer me, but he who says that there is, and it would be very timely. What became of my childhood dreams? I wanted to be a butcher.
1. It can happen if I made too shit.
2. Dexter had better watch out.
3. There's only idiots never change their opinion.

This week I met a boy. Hector, one month and a half. I take her in my arms. You, yet you drink the whey, I m'enfile red, white, and a small liquor that does everything happen, promised, I try not to let you down. You vomit for no reason, I, I want more and more instantly. Finally, last night he should not have too much fun to me pat on the back for me to do my rot. You pass from arm to arm, too, since that's it. Jump on knees in speechless pleasure, grimacing in pleasure, yesterday, I was just a body between the arms. We told the next time you know you do not meet again, the question does not arise. I am only enjoyment I had warned this week, I do not think so.

Finally we are quite happy both. Me, I have blue eyes, you get yourself not to think, do not be anxious to see your fingers bleed to force them to eat. We will tirelessly tell you: not eat your fingers! They are miniature, tiny, delicate. I've already caught several doors before I realized they I could serve small snacks, it hurts, but hopefully, it suggests that I really like it.

Wiring Diagram For A Motion Light

# 16 # 15 Paris Paris

A Sunday in the snow


(Ryan McGinley http://a-dream-like-this.blogspot.com/)

must wake with extreme caution. Stop, she pretended to sleep. A large bucket of water into his mouth real bitch to false fringe and voila. It just waking dream, do not make too much, so she takes her life to a romance that she loses the thread in the Metro.
- The boy would be called in front Augustine my name is preferred, and when I close my eyes, I said ...
- Shit, gatehouse is my stop!
Pauv'mec. Life is poor, especially on Mondays. Claude Francois had told us.
The first day of the week has a taste of tainted milk, the toilet my cereal and coffee. There are moments like that, it seems not to advance. And perhaps because it is not concrete enough, not thick enough, that all this does not have enough relief, the feeling is widespread and still a little too light, it would be really stupid to s' upset for nothing. I can not find nothing better than to go on reporting on the esplanade of Defense. A stormy day. There, I feel good wind. In my eyes that cry, my nose and my brain, I can finally trépigner for real. I hope for one thing, fly. Last solution, divine incantations for Mary Poppins to come get me.
Yes, yes. I decided that everything would flow over me, that nothing cling to the roughness of my skin, but I cling to you in spite of myself. In memories of dreams or passions that I do stand by it, who even do not exist. And in the subway, as elsewhere, There's weeks where doors do not open.
That day, journalism gives me the impression of a hike starting very early on a Sunday at 7 am, and that over the market, it will snow. At first, I no desire to face the drop. I feel that I will have to slap me in the 4807 meters in fog my nose. I consider myself quite enough already perched at the top of my dreams and deep in my pillow. I think I hear dad just before we left to walk, just my June, give me your hand, the sun is just above the clouds. In my head the squall of snow, of course. He told me that every time and I do not believe it. Yet it is true. It is after much shit in the climb, I can go down the wind at your back and the sun in the nose, hopping with a satisfied air. Yet on Monday, Y'avait certainly more interesting than the summits national day of fertility.
Why she shakes like that? Mary Poppins you think? She drinks a beer at the Pop In, you're deaf or something? It is surely trying to explain that she is trying to kill the prince charming and she is struggling. What a bastard, he will not fuck him peace that.
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday ... As at the end of each week, I finally drown. In a high mountain lake, the champagne bubbles up through my nose. I zig zag through the snow and the blizzard that turns out to be a simple fog machine. Here's for sure, I lost the hiking trail. A savage monster asks for my number, I go running, obviously. The Cinnamon Bear was not so lucky, me, I was not armed.
What do you think Mary Poppins? I have several strings to my bag lady you know. What If? What if I dream of him 20 minutes a day, he will think of me forever. What if I offered him a blind test he can not refuse? Justine, do not shit on a Monday once a week is enough already.

Introduction Letter For Real Estate Agent

Gazette Gazette

The science of dreams

(http://a-dream-like-this.blogspot.com/2008_02_01_archive.html)


- Hey, little girl, she looks like what your home?
Little and huge, limitless really. Two boxes. That of the nightmare and fantasy. One whose fate is crying, another sweaty, and vice versa. In the middle there 's real life, nothing very exciting, which sounds an alarm, obedient. The
little girl prefers to live in his dreams, just imagine, questions, answers and kisses. It is safe to live very hard things. It would be called Marianne and all other Pierrot le Fou, it would not water down his principles, first because it's disgusting, but mostly because it's a real bad taste. Tolerance is not his forte.
His character is tragic, hysterical, melodramatic, not so much because it makes him happy, but because it is the best way she found to feel alive. Neither quiet nor cool, she takes pleasure in Frustration against itself, and other accessories, you do not necessarily understand. Do not worry, sometimes it is not on earth with you, and with any luck, it does not even speak to you. In these cases, you just take her in his arms, shaking hard. With any luck, she go back to sleep.
Today, in reality, the girl takes her responsibilities. I will vote, even drunk, I stand in a semi dementia. Because I know the girl, she goes out of his dreams as you fall off a cliff. Or some nights, she just glides very violently from the top of a staircase to wake up. In reality, it could have farted coccyx, but in her case, she just lost her shoes in her mind is Cinderella, and I can tell you that the stars dance, is obvious. For once, the little girl and I are relatively happy to be happy no Don Juan or other Zoro does it come pick up his shoe.
Later, in real life, when Robin Hood offers him Aspégic, first it is super down to earth as man, and finally she takes kindly. And yes, secretly she said that not everyone has the chance to be a princess.
Monday morning, his alarm will sound, think she hallucinating, but no, his head will actually explode.

Kates Playground And The Rabbit

# 14 # 13 Paris

How to say no to Mon Cheri

(http://a-dream-like-this.blogspot.com/)

One.Two. Three Mon Cheri. I pick tirelessly in the box, slumped on the sofa. I take them one after the other, unpacks without much precaution, without distinction, and small cherry liqueur, I taste again but no doubt you're really all the same. And that's the big difference between you and me, Mon Cheri, between girls and chocolate, you can not divide myself, m'interchanger or replace me. Know that as much as it annoys me to wait at red lights, being stuck in the escalator or take my foot down the stairs.
You do not want to just stop digging in what you believe to be a huge box of chocolate candy?
- Yesterday I made mocha, but tonight, I would type out a little tidbit more in the style praline.
- This is handy if like that mocha is not there, you can always call his girlfriend praline. Ba
yeah, why not. What is risk? This is the crisis of liver assured.
Me, Me, I'll go in search of a Mon Cheri edition limited edition. But not this week, I was too tired. Thursday, I tried to hit me with Romain Duris after show Sebastien Tellier, but I'm not sure, I think I watched too ... Anyway Tom warned me:
- Love is complicated.
- It's true that my good friend, besides, if I may, there's more season.
That evening, in Jeannette, Bathsheba (mucho) says she was dumped by text message: "You suck bad, I'm leaving . Ha, finally a real good reason to be discarded. And not one of those who fear excuses like: I do not love you.
So Friday, I told myself that friends Y'avait it real. Especially if those friends are boys who love me, one of them is of Armenian descent and knows how to prepare couscous dumplings able to absorb the vodka jet. These people feed me really, they explain the rule of three B PP, dude wanker, and finally connected Brancale frankly ... I'm leaving, twice as big, but happy.
That evening, I am again drunk at a party, again sitting on a couch. I'm next to Czech Petra cousin, he explained that he fucks with his physio, just before asking me what gift to give his wife for her birthday ... I'm speechless. I really want to tell him to give him a good pair of scissors so she could cut his balls, like that for fun. But no, I'm just pretending to listen. During that time. I look at my nail varnish is flaking, but still see where I can write all your names, I wonder what happened, and I tell myself singing on Pipiloritti Rist: I don 't want to fall in love .... With you.
Right now, it's a little anything. I fill the void, an open book beside me, listening to Sebastien Tellier and the shipping forecast, wanting more than turn on the TV. And then in my head, they all shout louder than each other. Is what we can silence the little voice. I want it to be easy sometimes as simple as water running down my instant Royco soup.
Four, five, six, eight, ten, twenty-six, I finally get drunk at Mon Cheri. And tomorrow, for sure, I'll go buy some little hearts Belin.