Apuf! It seemed that the world had eaten me, but no. A series of circumstances took me away from the cyber life for a couple of months, but again the load. I have not yet quite clear why, I mean ... There is only one journal entry, no one reads these letters, nobody believes on them ... But there are times I like to write, vent, or just give a shout out to the air, and breaking whatever it takes to break!
few days ago I started to go over old letters, my college times. It really was as if the first read. * Do not ever happen that you're so far from your past that seem strange when you get it? Maybe the pictures are more familiar or more often to see them, I could extr
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Sympathi Prases For Christians
prehistoric (at least ...
U) and Akane had carefully thought would a chicken. Do not know why or how, but it is half human, half lizard. Although I think it's something like an angel, because sometimes, on rare occasions I go out with a white wings trying to fly, although she manages well with them, she says they have a gift for your angel guard, so he could Ayur them when needed. Kaolla says that this guardian angel is a very pretty Muller said he probably ever need wings to fly and escape from something or someone. He also told her, she says, to practice with them, but it seems that they are not given very well. 
Kaolla not yet adaptedto "new technologies" We're afraid of electrical appliances, light switches, television, computer, and especially that you take pictures. Whenever you want to do pictures I question: "Is it going to hurt?"
is a pure red herring. Sometimes, suddenly, he realizes where he is, and knows it is there or has arrived. Are captivated by looking at everything. Loves to cuddle and hug, and above all, likes to laugh at Akane, of the "cock" that is. His favorite color is red, and his instinct makes you attracted to the green, so it is always green and red. Does not understand why you have to put clothes, she would always be naked outdoors. ashamed I let people know who is half lizard, and try esc
Kaolla not yet adaptedto "new technologies" We're afraid of electrical appliances, light switches, television, computer, and especially that you take pictures. Whenever you want to do pictures I question: "Is it going to hurt?" is a pure red herring. Sometimes, suddenly, he realizes where he is, and knows it is there or has arrived. Are captivated by looking at everything. Loves to cuddle and hug, and above all, likes to laugh at Akane, of the "cock" that is. His favorite color is red, and his instinct makes you attracted to the green, so it is always green and red. Does not understand why you have to put clothes, she would always be naked outdoors. ashamed I let people know who is half lizard, and try esc
Wooden Fingerboard Ramps For Sale ^ ^ Photo tab Akane
Name: Akane
Age: 13 years
Birthdate: December 31, 2005
Home: Volks
Model: MSD Sakura (Assembly Kit)
Body: Pure-Skin
Skin: Normal Skin
Makeup: My
Eyes: Volks Acrylic Ice Blue Wig
: Leeke of human Black Blue
LUTs
kitten
His story and personality :
Akane is a 13 year old girl pretty special.
was raised with a very authoritarian parents, who treated her very badly from qe was four years. From small Akane
loved the cats, not well understood why, but knows they have a sixth sense and understands them. Whenever you feel sad, not knowing how, just surrounded by cats, and these
make you feel better. Almost every night has some vivid dreams, in which she is a beautiful blue-haired cat, meows songs on the roofs, climbs trees, purrs when a child approaches you and gives you a little of what you eat ...
While still at home with his parents when he was four, his parents realized what was happening ... and do not like thisLlosa considered to be treating an animal, they shouted, the
forced to do all the housework and do not let her out into the street, so that people not laugh at them. Until the day I realized what she had been passing the little girl in her eyes, she had done for everything they have and more. But since that day but felt no shame and disgust.
The one in the family he loved was his older brother, he had a true devotion to her little sister, she played with her and encouraged her saying that one day take her out of there. Until one day kept his promise, and with much pain, knowing that there was no possibility of ever seeing her again, sent to my house. Dede then he lives here withme.
raindrops falling through the glass when it rains and the balls of wool. When excited or happy ronrronea.
She does not understand why the day was four, his parents began to treat it bad, think it was for a birthday ...
She does not understand why the day was four, his parents began to treat it bad, think it was for a birthday ...
Saturday, February 17, 2007
How Much Is To Remove A Medium Sized Tattoo
scaparates of record stores, or his powerful singing voice secret names and stories of the oldest among us. Why do it? What tell their songs? Is detailed in the book. We have provided only a catechism, but a Bible.
E, introducing in biblical times, leads us to present our first
parents Enkil and Akasha, rulers of the Nile Valley long before it was called Egypt. Very friendly
ignores the sacred stories that tell how
became the first blood libel of the layer of the Earth, since
just a little more sense than the story of how life was formed the planet, or cthe
mo fetuses develop from microscopic cell within its deadly
mothers. The truth is that we descend from this venerable pair, and, like it or not, there is considerable
reasons to believe that the original progenitor of all our powers necessary
delicious and reside in one or another of its ancient bodies. What follows from this?
it bluntly: if Enkil Akasha and enter holding hands in an oven,
all we would burn them. They are reduced to dust and we incandescent
all annihilated.
Ah, but there is hope. The couple has not moved more than fifty centuries! Yes, it
true. Unless, of course, that the claims of Lestat in cLXC supernatural skills to the public mortal.
And now the question: Why both continue to exist? Why we have not yet destroyed
? Oh, for us mortal danger of large herd is undoubtedly
a certainty. The locals are not yet in the door, torches in hand, threatening to burn down the castle
. But the monster is exposed to a deadly change in perspective. And although we are too smart
to corroborate their absurd machinations of the human documentation
, outrage beyond any precedent. And
can not remain unpunished.
More observations: if the story has been told the vampire Lestat is true (there are many
swear that is true even know what it bcer spread the word: The Vampire Lestat must be destroyed, and with it, his mother, Gabrielle,
his cohorts, Louis and Armand, and all the immortals who show loyalty.
Happy Halloween, ghouls and vampires. See you at the concert.
will see how the vampire Lestat never goes away.
The character with blond hair and red velvet coat he read the statement from his
comfortable position in a far corner. His eyes were almost invisible behind his dark glasses
and under the brim of his gray hat. He wore gray suede gloves;
crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back in high black wooden base, heel of a boot
rode in a bar of the chair.
- Lestat, you're a resentenced creature! He whispered in a sigh. You're a prince
naughty. "He chuckled particular. Scanned the large room after dark.
not disliked the intricate mural in black ink drawn with great skill, as
cobwebs in a white plaster wall. I quite enjoyed the castle in ruins, cemetery, the dead tree
scratching the full moon. The topic was reinvented, an artistic gesture appreciated
invariably. It was also quite achieved the roof molding with its frieze of devils and witches
rampant mounted on broomsticks. And the incense, sweet, a mixture
India that he had burned once, centuries ago, in the mausoleum of Those Who Must Be Kept.
Yes, onei was a drinker of blood
anyone wandering, with vacant eyes and a closed mind.
was time to leave your questions unanswered. He had what he wanted to know what his intentions were
. And little Lestat cassette tape in the pocket of his jacket.
Before returning home, get a tape with video-clips of rock.
He rose to leave. And one of the boys also won. There was a tense silence (a silence
both thoughts and words) as he and the young man approached the door
. Only the flame of the candle wavered, pouring, as if it were water, its luster for the tile floor
black.
- Where are you, stranger? Asked the young man politely.or mortal knew, and the vampire Lestat was an avid
risking the secret devil prosperity of all its species is only for mortals
and admire what they saw.
almost laughed in the face of the young. A fight so insignificant! Lestat
season that included infidelity in a very beautiful, had to admit. Yes, had told the secrets
which had warned that it should keep, but in doing so, had not betrayed
anything or anyone.
"Be careful with the Vampire Lestat," he finally said with a smile the young man. There are very few immortal
real on this Earth. Perhaps one of them.
Then he lifted the boy by weight, out of his way, laid it back onC I gave her death, my beautiful Marquise
.
And the Devil's Road we walked
two orphans, then together.
What she hears my hymns tonight
of Kings and Queens and old truths? Feedback
broken and did weigh? Or climb
some distant path
where poetry and song can find it?
back to me, Gabrielle,
my beautiful Marquise.
Castle Hill is in ruins.
The village lost in the snow.
But you are mine forever.
Already her mother was there?
The voice faded from a soft trail of notes to be finally
power absorbed by the surrounding chaotic noise. Went to walk to the humid breeze and made changesino
into the corner. Attractive small street was busy. The florist
continued selling their cocoons under the awning. The carnage was crowded with customers who had just
leaving your job. After the windows of cafes, dining or fatal
spent time with their newspapers. Dozens of them waited for the bus down and a line of people blocking the passage
front of an old movie theater.
She was there: Gabrielle. I felt vaguely but surely.
came to the curb and stopped. Leaned against the iron post lantern, and breathed the fresh air
descended from the mountain. Thence along the straight, endless, wide
Market Street, was captured an excelente view of downtown. Market Street,
much like a boulevard in Paris. And everywhere around him the gentle slopes covered urban
cheerful lighted windows.
Yes, but ... where was it exactly?
"Gabrielle whispered. He closed his eyes. Heard. At first he came
unleashed a roar of thousands of voices, images superimposed images intertwined. The wide world
threatened to open up and swallow it with their incessant complaining.
Gabrielle. The deafening clamor faded slowly. He caught a thrill of pain from a deadly
passed him. And building a high hill, a dying
dreamed of her childhood fightingence and listless as she sat in the window. Then, in a continuous blur
silence, he saw what he wanted to see: Gabrielle, who at that time stopped short
. She had felt his call. She knew observed. A tall blond woman,
with hair in a single braid that hung in the back, stop at one of the
streets clean and deserted city center, not far from it. He wore khaki jacket, jeans and jersey
brown. And a hat not unlike what
covered her own eyes, only a slit of his face appeared above the neck up.
now closed its mind, and was surrounded by an invisible shield effectiveness. The image is vaporized.
Yes, right here waitingvive as long as they are. They were curious kinds of value that contribute to the
resistance. Maybe it had something to do with acceptance. But then how to explain what
Lestat: beaten and scarred and back on its feet? Lestat, who never accepted anything.
had not yet been found Gabrielle and Louis. But he was beaten. What would I do?
Am I? Just thinking ... Furthermore, Lestat and would soon enough.
smiling again now. "Lestat, you are the creature of the earth resentenced! Yes, a spoiled prince
! "Slowly, reinvokes every detail of the face and figure of Lestat. The
icy blue eyes, darkening with laughter, the generous smile, the way
eyebrows gathered in a frown juvenile sudden outbursts of mood and mood
blasphemous. I could even spot the feline of your body posture. So rare in a man
male complexion. Such a force, provided that such force and irrepressible optimism.
The fact was that he had formed his own opinion about the company as a whole,
only knew that he enjoyed and was fascinated. Of course, had no intention to take revenge on Lestat
for telling secrets. And it was certain that Lestat had already taken into account, but never knew
. Lestat perhaps not really care. Regarding that, he had more news
that fools the bar.
What mattered was that pohat he and Lestat had discussed those same things on an island in the Mediterranean
, the dream of a world without God and truly moral, where love of neighbor
would be the only dogma. A world that does not belong. And now that world is
had become almost a reality. And the vampire Lestat had turned to popular art, where all hell
old should go, drag it to the whole damn tribe, including
Those Who Must Be Kept, but perhaps they never knew.
The symmetry of fact made him smile. Was found that not only admiration but he liked the idea
learns what Lestat had done.
fully understood what it meant to attract the fam
call is made. The number did not increase their strength in a meaningful way. But what was the old
? If Lestat had not used the names of Mael and Pandora ...! But there was no blood drinkers
older than them, drinkers of blood that he himself knew nothing
? Mused about the warning on the wall: "ancient and terrible beings ...
be moved slowly and inexorably to answer your call. "
A shiver ran through her body, cold, and yet for a moment thought he saw the
jungle, a green, fetid, under unhealthy and oppressive heat. And the image faded,
without explanation, like so many signs and messages I received. C had longHTMLXC had learned to cut the endless flow of voices and images
his mental powers were able to perceive, however, occasionally, something violent and unexpected, like a shrill cry
, could break through.
Whatever had been in this city long enough. I did not know I had the intention of intervening
, whatever happened! He was furious at the sudden burning of
their feelings. Wanted to go home. Been away too long
Those Who Must Be Kept.
But look how she loved the energetic mass of humanity, the vulgar
raucous parade traffic! Even well bore poisonous smells of the city. They were worse than the plague
ancient Rome or Antioch, or Athens, where piles of human excrement fed flies
anywhere visible and the air stank of
inevitable epidemics and starvation. No, really liked the clean, pastel-colored towns
California. Could spend your life wandering between
insightful and enterprising people.
but must return. Had few nights for the concert and then would see Lestat, if
decided ... How delicious was not knowing exactly what I could do not know more than the
others, others who did not even believe in it!
crossed Castro Street and walked swiftly up the wide on Market Street. The wind had died
, the air was almost warm.He walked briskly, even whistling, for himself
himself, as he often did Louis. It felt good, man. Then he stopped at the store
televisions and radio. Lestat sang from each and every one of the
screens, large and small.
laughed in a whisper to the great concert of gestures and movements. There was no sound;
was buried after flashing the bright spots of the team. I had to deduct for
grasp. But it was not a charm already seen the antics of Prince
Naughty blond hair in a ruthless silence?
The camera zoomed to show the full figure of Lestat playing the violin as in a trance
. A starry darkness enveloped him tamusic, Akasha
slowly raised to the throne. Seeing her, he dropped Lestat's violin hands, like a dancer
, she wrapped his arms, coming to himself and leaned over to take his blood
, while he applied his teeth into her throat .
was much better than I had imagined, a very successful installation. Now wake
Enkil figure, stood up and began to walk like a mechanical doll.
advanced with the intention of retaking his Queen. Lestat was lying on the floor of the crypt
. And there just the film. The rescue by Marius was not included.
"Ah, so I will not become a television celebrity," she whispered with a slight smile
.put it in his pocket.
Nothing. She loved those eloquent modern expressions. Loved the sudden swing of her breasts
shrug, and the agile wiggle your hips under the rough cloth of his jeans
making it the body more sensitive and more fragile. A flower bulb.
When she opened the door, he gently stroked her mane of brown hair.
was quite unthinkable that decide to feed on someone who had served as
someone innocent. I would not. However, he turned her body and her fingers were
endured their way through the hair to rest in the neck:
"A kiss, beautiful.
She closed her eyes, fangs pierced himand myself. "Well, if it was
well, those who were in charge and must inevitably be seen on the big
Lestat screen in front of them in the crypt. Long ago, had installed a satellite dish on the slope
was over the roof to offer programs throughout the world. A small computer
channel changing every hour. Over the years, had watched with blank expression
images and colors that moved before his eyes lifeless. Had they made the slightest flicker
hearing Lestat's voice or see his own image? Or when they heard their names
sung as a hymn?
Well, you soon find out. I would video tape. Closely examine theirrock one after another. The assembly
intrigued as much as the same songs, as a spectacular chemistry
new and old, he was intrigued by how Lestat had used the distortions of the media mass
to dress to perfection, like any other singer
trying to look like a rock god.
She took her long gray coat and threw it into a chair. Why
that case gave him this unexpected pleasure? Do we all have a deep desire to curse, to threaten
with our fists at the same face of the gods? Maybe. Centuries ago, in what is now
called the "ancient Rome", to him, the boy politely, always had the grace
travesuflush with the bad kids.
should go into the vault before doing anything else, she knew. Within moments,
to make sure things were as they should be. To check TV
temperature and all complex electronic systems. To place coals
new and incense in the censer. At the present time, it was very easy to keep a paradise for
them, livid with lights that provided the necessary solar energy
trees and flowers they had never seen natural light in the sky. But the incense had worked with the hands
, tradition dictates. And never sprinkled on the coals without mentioning the first time he had done
that act. Tamb
ien was time to take a soft cloth and, with great care and much respect, remove dust
parents ... their bodies stiff, even from her lips and eyes, her eyes cold and unable
flashing. And now that I think, for over a month.
seemed dishonorable.
"Do I have missed you, dear Akasha and Enkil?" Ah, the old comedy.
The reason I said, as always, that neither knew nor cared if she left or returned. But his pride
always tormented him with the other possibility. Do not feel anything the
raving lunatic locked in a cell of the asylum by the slave who leads the water?
perhaps was not a proper comparison. The truth was that none of them was crazy.
Yes, habonce and for all?
Oh, then passing to videotape and observe, of course. And if there
if only the slightest flicker out, the slightest change in their eternal gaze ...
But there you are again with the same ... Lestat makes you feel young and stupid. And you probably
feeds of innocence and makes you dream of cataclysms.
many times, in all ages, had raised such hopes, only to leave
injured with a broken heart! Years ago, I had bought
color films of dawn, blue sky, the pyramids of Egypt. Ah, what a miracle! Before your very eyes ran
sun-drenched waters of the Nile had cried himself to the perfection of the il
rcástico in tone, and that should keep it to him. Perhaps it was what they called "the modern character."
How could you live in a world of rockets that reach the moon without a conscience
intolerable that threatened any syllable trivial? And I've never been ignorant of the century
living.
Whatever the case, now had to go to the crypt. And there
purify their thoughts. I would not go with resentment and despair. Later, after he
study the videos, put to them. Stay there, watching.
But now I had enough strength to do so.
entered the steel elevator and pressed the button. The shrill whistle and the sudden CHTMLX mailC loss of gravity to produce a light sensual pleasure. The world of his day and his time
was filled with many sounds I had never heard ...! It was almost refreshing. And then there was that charming
smoothness plummeting hundreds of feet through a hole
solid ice reached lower stays lit with electricity.
opened the door and down the corridor covered with a rug. Lestat singing again, now in the crypt
, singing a fast song, more cheerful, his voice fighting against a
Retron of electronic drums and wails against twisted and undulating.
But something was not quite right. He had only to look to the long hallway to notice. The sounds
Kill us, brothers and sisters,
war has broken out.
Understand what you see,
when you see me.
breathed slow and long. There was no other sound besides the music, now
faded to be replaced by a vague murmur mortal. There was no intruder.
No, I would have known. No one in his den. His instincts are so states very emphatically.
felt a twinge of pain in the chest. Even felt a burning in the face. Very curious. He crossed the ante-chambers
marble and stood outside the door of the chapel. Was
praying? Was I dreaming? He knew what he would immediately (Those Who Must Be Kept)
and look like it had always been. And any reasonableEnkil, with the same look she had for two thousand years, black hair in thin braids
hanging on his shoulders. The wide golden torques
hanging against his chest smooth, hairless, the fabric of her spotless skirt with pressed pleats, rings, always at your fingertips
still.
But the body itself was glass! And totally hollow! Even the huge orbits of its
eyes were clear, only a dark circles defining the iris. No, for a moment.
observe him everything. Bones could be distinguished, translated into the same substance as meat
yes, there they were, and also the thin cracks in the veins and arteries, and lungs
something like inside, but all transparencyn spread like straw. And when hair loss is seen neck, dark
observed both in the form of stab wounds. Wounds had not healed because he had
extracted every last drop of blood that could have healed.
- Who did it? She whispered, pressing hard on his right fist as if it will avoid
mourn. Who could have taken his life until the last bit?
And that was dead. There was no doubt. And what was shown with that horrible
show?
"Our King is destroyed, our Father. And I continue to live, breathe.
which can only mean that she has the original power. She came first, and the power has always resided intobacco alone. Something or someone just out of the niche and felt that something or someone was watching
.
For a moment, an irrational moment, kept his eyes on the fallen King.
trying to apprehend, as calmly as he could, everything that was happening around him.
Now that moving toward him, without a murmur. Appeared as a graceful shadow on the
corner of his eye, turned to the throne and stood facing him.
knew who was who was to be and knew he had approached the natural size of a living
. However, looking up, saw that nothing could have prepared him for the time
.
Akasha, standing only ten feet away from him. Her skin was blanca, hard and opaque as
always had. His cheeks glowed like pearls when a smile, her dark eyes moistened
and encouraged, while the skin is wrinkled a bit in corners
. Sparkled with vitality.
was speechless watching her. He noted how she raised her fingers covered with jewels
to touch her shoulder. He closed his eyes and opened them again. For thousands of years had
spoken in many languages (prayers, petitions, complaints, confessions) ... and now did not say a word
. He just watch their lips moving, the glare of their white fangs, cold
reflect recognition in their eyes and soft sweet cleft between her breasts which ranged
ba., How lovely was her red hair! But what was
what was lying there, under dead leaves on the altar?
E, introducing in biblical times, leads us to present our first
parents Enkil and Akasha, rulers of the Nile Valley long before it was called Egypt. Very friendly
ignores the sacred stories that tell how
became the first blood libel of the layer of the Earth, since
just a little more sense than the story of how life was formed the planet, or cthe
mo fetuses develop from microscopic cell within its deadly
mothers. The truth is that we descend from this venerable pair, and, like it or not, there is considerable
reasons to believe that the original progenitor of all our powers necessary
delicious and reside in one or another of its ancient bodies. What follows from this?
it bluntly: if Enkil Akasha and enter holding hands in an oven,
all we would burn them. They are reduced to dust and we incandescent
all annihilated.
Ah, but there is hope. The couple has not moved more than fifty centuries! Yes, it
true. Unless, of course, that the claims of Lestat in cLXC supernatural skills to the public mortal.
And now the question: Why both continue to exist? Why we have not yet destroyed
? Oh, for us mortal danger of large herd is undoubtedly
a certainty. The locals are not yet in the door, torches in hand, threatening to burn down the castle
. But the monster is exposed to a deadly change in perspective. And although we are too smart
to corroborate their absurd machinations of the human documentation
, outrage beyond any precedent. And
can not remain unpunished.
More observations: if the story has been told the vampire Lestat is true (there are many
swear that is true even know what it bcer spread the word: The Vampire Lestat must be destroyed, and with it, his mother, Gabrielle,
his cohorts, Louis and Armand, and all the immortals who show loyalty.
Happy Halloween, ghouls and vampires. See you at the concert.
will see how the vampire Lestat never goes away.
The character with blond hair and red velvet coat he read the statement from his
comfortable position in a far corner. His eyes were almost invisible behind his dark glasses
and under the brim of his gray hat. He wore gray suede gloves;
crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back in high black wooden base, heel of a boot
rode in a bar of the chair.
- Lestat, you're a resentenced creature! He whispered in a sigh. You're a prince
naughty. "He chuckled particular. Scanned the large room after dark.
not disliked the intricate mural in black ink drawn with great skill, as
cobwebs in a white plaster wall. I quite enjoyed the castle in ruins, cemetery, the dead tree
scratching the full moon. The topic was reinvented, an artistic gesture appreciated
invariably. It was also quite achieved the roof molding with its frieze of devils and witches
rampant mounted on broomsticks. And the incense, sweet, a mixture
India that he had burned once, centuries ago, in the mausoleum of Those Who Must Be Kept.
Yes, onei was a drinker of blood
anyone wandering, with vacant eyes and a closed mind.
was time to leave your questions unanswered. He had what he wanted to know what his intentions were
. And little Lestat cassette tape in the pocket of his jacket.
Before returning home, get a tape with video-clips of rock.
He rose to leave. And one of the boys also won. There was a tense silence (a silence
both thoughts and words) as he and the young man approached the door
. Only the flame of the candle wavered, pouring, as if it were water, its luster for the tile floor
black.
- Where are you, stranger? Asked the young man politely.or mortal knew, and the vampire Lestat was an avid
risking the secret devil prosperity of all its species is only for mortals
and admire what they saw.
almost laughed in the face of the young. A fight so insignificant! Lestat
season that included infidelity in a very beautiful, had to admit. Yes, had told the secrets
which had warned that it should keep, but in doing so, had not betrayed
anything or anyone.
"Be careful with the Vampire Lestat," he finally said with a smile the young man. There are very few immortal
real on this Earth. Perhaps one of them.
Then he lifted the boy by weight, out of his way, laid it back onC I gave her death, my beautiful Marquise
.
And the Devil's Road we walked
two orphans, then together.
What she hears my hymns tonight
of Kings and Queens and old truths? Feedback
broken and did weigh? Or climb
some distant path
where poetry and song can find it?
back to me, Gabrielle,
my beautiful Marquise.
Castle Hill is in ruins.
The village lost in the snow.
But you are mine forever.
Already her mother was there?
The voice faded from a soft trail of notes to be finally
power absorbed by the surrounding chaotic noise. Went to walk to the humid breeze and made changesino
into the corner. Attractive small street was busy. The florist
continued selling their cocoons under the awning. The carnage was crowded with customers who had just
leaving your job. After the windows of cafes, dining or fatal
spent time with their newspapers. Dozens of them waited for the bus down and a line of people blocking the passage
front of an old movie theater.
She was there: Gabrielle. I felt vaguely but surely.
came to the curb and stopped. Leaned against the iron post lantern, and breathed the fresh air
descended from the mountain. Thence along the straight, endless, wide
Market Street, was captured an excelente view of downtown. Market Street,
much like a boulevard in Paris. And everywhere around him the gentle slopes covered urban
cheerful lighted windows.
Yes, but ... where was it exactly?
"Gabrielle whispered. He closed his eyes. Heard. At first he came
unleashed a roar of thousands of voices, images superimposed images intertwined. The wide world
threatened to open up and swallow it with their incessant complaining.
Gabrielle. The deafening clamor faded slowly. He caught a thrill of pain from a deadly
passed him. And building a high hill, a dying
dreamed of her childhood fightingence and listless as she sat in the window. Then, in a continuous blur
silence, he saw what he wanted to see: Gabrielle, who at that time stopped short
. She had felt his call. She knew observed. A tall blond woman,
with hair in a single braid that hung in the back, stop at one of the
streets clean and deserted city center, not far from it. He wore khaki jacket, jeans and jersey
brown. And a hat not unlike what
covered her own eyes, only a slit of his face appeared above the neck up.
now closed its mind, and was surrounded by an invisible shield effectiveness. The image is vaporized.
Yes, right here waitingvive as long as they are. They were curious kinds of value that contribute to the
resistance. Maybe it had something to do with acceptance. But then how to explain what
Lestat: beaten and scarred and back on its feet? Lestat, who never accepted anything.
had not yet been found Gabrielle and Louis. But he was beaten. What would I do?
Am I? Just thinking ... Furthermore, Lestat and would soon enough.
smiling again now. "Lestat, you are the creature of the earth resentenced! Yes, a spoiled prince
! "Slowly, reinvokes every detail of the face and figure of Lestat. The
icy blue eyes, darkening with laughter, the generous smile, the way
eyebrows gathered in a frown juvenile sudden outbursts of mood and mood
blasphemous. I could even spot the feline of your body posture. So rare in a man
male complexion. Such a force, provided that such force and irrepressible optimism.
The fact was that he had formed his own opinion about the company as a whole,
only knew that he enjoyed and was fascinated. Of course, had no intention to take revenge on Lestat
for telling secrets. And it was certain that Lestat had already taken into account, but never knew
. Lestat perhaps not really care. Regarding that, he had more news
that fools the bar.
What mattered was that pohat he and Lestat had discussed those same things on an island in the Mediterranean
, the dream of a world without God and truly moral, where love of neighbor
would be the only dogma. A world that does not belong. And now that world is
had become almost a reality. And the vampire Lestat had turned to popular art, where all hell
old should go, drag it to the whole damn tribe, including
Those Who Must Be Kept, but perhaps they never knew.
The symmetry of fact made him smile. Was found that not only admiration but he liked the idea
learns what Lestat had done.
fully understood what it meant to attract the fam
call is made. The number did not increase their strength in a meaningful way. But what was the old
? If Lestat had not used the names of Mael and Pandora ...! But there was no blood drinkers
older than them, drinkers of blood that he himself knew nothing
? Mused about the warning on the wall: "ancient and terrible beings ...
be moved slowly and inexorably to answer your call. "
A shiver ran through her body, cold, and yet for a moment thought he saw the
jungle, a green, fetid, under unhealthy and oppressive heat. And the image faded,
without explanation, like so many signs and messages I received. C had longHTMLXC had learned to cut the endless flow of voices and images
his mental powers were able to perceive, however, occasionally, something violent and unexpected, like a shrill cry
, could break through.
Whatever had been in this city long enough. I did not know I had the intention of intervening
, whatever happened! He was furious at the sudden burning of
their feelings. Wanted to go home. Been away too long
Those Who Must Be Kept.
But look how she loved the energetic mass of humanity, the vulgar
raucous parade traffic! Even well bore poisonous smells of the city. They were worse than the plague
ancient Rome or Antioch, or Athens, where piles of human excrement fed flies
anywhere visible and the air stank of
inevitable epidemics and starvation. No, really liked the clean, pastel-colored towns
California. Could spend your life wandering between
insightful and enterprising people.
but must return. Had few nights for the concert and then would see Lestat, if
decided ... How delicious was not knowing exactly what I could do not know more than the
others, others who did not even believe in it!
crossed Castro Street and walked swiftly up the wide on Market Street. The wind had died
, the air was almost warm.He walked briskly, even whistling, for himself
himself, as he often did Louis. It felt good, man. Then he stopped at the store
televisions and radio. Lestat sang from each and every one of the
screens, large and small.
laughed in a whisper to the great concert of gestures and movements. There was no sound;
was buried after flashing the bright spots of the team. I had to deduct for
grasp. But it was not a charm already seen the antics of Prince
Naughty blond hair in a ruthless silence?
The camera zoomed to show the full figure of Lestat playing the violin as in a trance
. A starry darkness enveloped him tamusic, Akasha
slowly raised to the throne. Seeing her, he dropped Lestat's violin hands, like a dancer
, she wrapped his arms, coming to himself and leaned over to take his blood
, while he applied his teeth into her throat .
was much better than I had imagined, a very successful installation. Now wake
Enkil figure, stood up and began to walk like a mechanical doll.
advanced with the intention of retaking his Queen. Lestat was lying on the floor of the crypt
. And there just the film. The rescue by Marius was not included.
"Ah, so I will not become a television celebrity," she whispered with a slight smile
.put it in his pocket.
Nothing. She loved those eloquent modern expressions. Loved the sudden swing of her breasts
shrug, and the agile wiggle your hips under the rough cloth of his jeans
making it the body more sensitive and more fragile. A flower bulb.
When she opened the door, he gently stroked her mane of brown hair.
was quite unthinkable that decide to feed on someone who had served as
someone innocent. I would not. However, he turned her body and her fingers were
endured their way through the hair to rest in the neck:
"A kiss, beautiful.
She closed her eyes, fangs pierced himand myself. "Well, if it was
well, those who were in charge and must inevitably be seen on the big
Lestat screen in front of them in the crypt. Long ago, had installed a satellite dish on the slope
was over the roof to offer programs throughout the world. A small computer
channel changing every hour. Over the years, had watched with blank expression
images and colors that moved before his eyes lifeless. Had they made the slightest flicker
hearing Lestat's voice or see his own image? Or when they heard their names
sung as a hymn?
Well, you soon find out. I would video tape. Closely examine theirrock one after another. The assembly
intrigued as much as the same songs, as a spectacular chemistry
new and old, he was intrigued by how Lestat had used the distortions of the media mass
to dress to perfection, like any other singer
trying to look like a rock god.
She took her long gray coat and threw it into a chair. Why
that case gave him this unexpected pleasure? Do we all have a deep desire to curse, to threaten
with our fists at the same face of the gods? Maybe. Centuries ago, in what is now
called the "ancient Rome", to him, the boy politely, always had the grace
travesuflush with the bad kids.
should go into the vault before doing anything else, she knew. Within moments,
to make sure things were as they should be. To check TV
temperature and all complex electronic systems. To place coals
new and incense in the censer. At the present time, it was very easy to keep a paradise for
them, livid with lights that provided the necessary solar energy
trees and flowers they had never seen natural light in the sky. But the incense had worked with the hands
, tradition dictates. And never sprinkled on the coals without mentioning the first time he had done
that act. Tamb
ien was time to take a soft cloth and, with great care and much respect, remove dust
parents ... their bodies stiff, even from her lips and eyes, her eyes cold and unable
flashing. And now that I think, for over a month.
seemed dishonorable.
"Do I have missed you, dear Akasha and Enkil?" Ah, the old comedy.
The reason I said, as always, that neither knew nor cared if she left or returned. But his pride
always tormented him with the other possibility. Do not feel anything the
raving lunatic locked in a cell of the asylum by the slave who leads the water?
perhaps was not a proper comparison. The truth was that none of them was crazy.
Yes, habonce and for all?
Oh, then passing to videotape and observe, of course. And if there
if only the slightest flicker out, the slightest change in their eternal gaze ...
But there you are again with the same ... Lestat makes you feel young and stupid. And you probably
feeds of innocence and makes you dream of cataclysms.
many times, in all ages, had raised such hopes, only to leave
injured with a broken heart! Years ago, I had bought
color films of dawn, blue sky, the pyramids of Egypt. Ah, what a miracle! Before your very eyes ran
sun-drenched waters of the Nile had cried himself to the perfection of the il
rcástico in tone, and that should keep it to him. Perhaps it was what they called "the modern character."
How could you live in a world of rockets that reach the moon without a conscience
intolerable that threatened any syllable trivial? And I've never been ignorant of the century
living.
Whatever the case, now had to go to the crypt. And there
purify their thoughts. I would not go with resentment and despair. Later, after he
study the videos, put to them. Stay there, watching.
But now I had enough strength to do so.
entered the steel elevator and pressed the button. The shrill whistle and the sudden CHTMLX mailC loss of gravity to produce a light sensual pleasure. The world of his day and his time
was filled with many sounds I had never heard ...! It was almost refreshing. And then there was that charming
smoothness plummeting hundreds of feet through a hole
solid ice reached lower stays lit with electricity.
opened the door and down the corridor covered with a rug. Lestat singing again, now in the crypt
, singing a fast song, more cheerful, his voice fighting against a
Retron of electronic drums and wails against twisted and undulating.
But something was not quite right. He had only to look to the long hallway to notice. The sounds
Kill us, brothers and sisters,
war has broken out.
Understand what you see,
when you see me.
breathed slow and long. There was no other sound besides the music, now
faded to be replaced by a vague murmur mortal. There was no intruder.
No, I would have known. No one in his den. His instincts are so states very emphatically.
felt a twinge of pain in the chest. Even felt a burning in the face. Very curious. He crossed the ante-chambers
marble and stood outside the door of the chapel. Was
praying? Was I dreaming? He knew what he would immediately (Those Who Must Be Kept)
and look like it had always been. And any reasonableEnkil, with the same look she had for two thousand years, black hair in thin braids
hanging on his shoulders. The wide golden torques
hanging against his chest smooth, hairless, the fabric of her spotless skirt with pressed pleats, rings, always at your fingertips
still.
But the body itself was glass! And totally hollow! Even the huge orbits of its
eyes were clear, only a dark circles defining the iris. No, for a moment.
observe him everything. Bones could be distinguished, translated into the same substance as meat
yes, there they were, and also the thin cracks in the veins and arteries, and lungs
something like inside, but all transparencyn spread like straw. And when hair loss is seen neck, dark
observed both in the form of stab wounds. Wounds had not healed because he had
extracted every last drop of blood that could have healed.
- Who did it? She whispered, pressing hard on his right fist as if it will avoid
mourn. Who could have taken his life until the last bit?
And that was dead. There was no doubt. And what was shown with that horrible
show?
"Our King is destroyed, our Father. And I continue to live, breathe.
which can only mean that she has the original power. She came first, and the power has always resided intobacco alone. Something or someone just out of the niche and felt that something or someone was watching
.
For a moment, an irrational moment, kept his eyes on the fallen King.
trying to apprehend, as calmly as he could, everything that was happening around him.
Now that moving toward him, without a murmur. Appeared as a graceful shadow on the
corner of his eye, turned to the throne and stood facing him.
knew who was who was to be and knew he had approached the natural size of a living
. However, looking up, saw that nothing could have prepared him for the time
.
Akasha, standing only ten feet away from him. Her skin was blanca, hard and opaque as
always had. His cheeks glowed like pearls when a smile, her dark eyes moistened
and encouraged, while the skin is wrinkled a bit in corners
. Sparkled with vitality.
was speechless watching her. He noted how she raised her fingers covered with jewels
to touch her shoulder. He closed his eyes and opened them again. For thousands of years had
spoken in many languages (prayers, petitions, complaints, confessions) ... and now did not say a word
. He just watch their lips moving, the glare of their white fangs, cold
reflect recognition in their eyes and soft sweet cleft between her breasts which ranged
ba., How lovely was her red hair! But what was
what was lying there, under dead leaves on the altar?
How To Get Good At Fingerboard carrie_blake @ 2007-02-17T21:30:00
RABBIT
Tragic Tragic Rabbit, a painting,
caked ears green like rolled corn.
The black forehead pointing at the stars.
A painting on my wall, alone
as rabbits are and are not. Plump red cheeks,
all Art, mouth trembling,
a hard habit to break as there is.
also you can be a tragic rabbit; verdirroja
your back, blue your manly little chest.
But if you ever feel tempted to become one with the True Care
meat, you bring down your tragic
horse and break your tragic colors like a ghost breaks
marble
your wounds will heal so quickly that the water
yousense of the word) that I am not taking place. I even figured that this
way, do some good playing the devil on the stage.
The last time we had to start something with good standing.
just debuted in San Francisco was the first "live concert" band for me and my mortal. Our
album was a huge success. My autobiography was doing respectably well with the dead
as the undead.
Then something completely unexpected. At least I had not expected. And
when I left, my life hung by a thread, so to speak.
Well, it's all over now, all that followed. I survived, obviously. I would not be talking co
n if you did not. Finally cosmic dust has settled, and the small tear in the fabric
world of rational beliefs has been amended, or at least closed.
For all these reasons, I am a little sad, I'm a little meaner and a little more aware
. I'm also infinitely more powerful, although human in my
interior is closer than ever to the surface: an anguished and hungry who loves hates
while this shell invincible and immortal which is enclosed.
"The thirst for blood? Insatiable, although physically never needed less. I think
could exist without it completely. But the desire I feel for everything going tell me that such a thing nu
nca going to be tested.
You know, was never just the need for blood, although blood is the most sensual of
everything a child could want, is the intimacy of the moment (to drink, to kill), the big dance
melee that dance when the victim is weak and I feel that I dilate, gobbling
death, for a split second, it burns with such large as life.
However, it is an illusion of the senses. No death can last as long as a
life. And that's the reason why I continue to take lives, right? Right now, I'm
further than ever from all salvation. The fact that we know, only makes things worse.
Of course, I can still pass for human, we all Podemmortal goes his way.
ever let go of all the costumes, I go as I am. Long hair, a velvet jacket
that reminds me of the past, and a pair of emerald rings in hand
right. And walked at a deliberate pace through the crowd, the center of the city, this charming and corrupt
southern city, or wander slowly along the white sand beaches
as the moon, breathing the warm breeze.
Nobody is looking over a second. There are too many inexplicable things
around: horrors, threats, mysteries that draw, and then inevitably disenchant
. And back to the predictable and routine. The prince is never going to get the whole world what
new sensations I am. The soft murmur of voices
supernatural can not deviate from that distress me. The taste of mortal
recognition was too seductive, the disks in the windows, jumping and clapping my fans
front of the stage. No matter that really did not believe he was a vampire
those moments, we were together. Cheered my name!
LPs now gone and I will never hear those songs. My book
continues, along with Confessions of a Vampire, disguised, security, fiction, which is
perhaps it should be. Already caused too much trouble, as you will see.
hauled Catastrophe is what my little games. The vampire who could have been, at last,
hero and martyr for a moment of pure glory ...
think that this taught me something, right? Well, actually, yes. Certainly.
But as painful retreat back to the shadows! ... Lestat, the impeccable and
nameless gangster blood sucking, back to stalking
helpless mortals who know nothing of men like me. It is so hurtful to be again the attacker, provided the margin,
battling good and evil in the ancient hell particular body and soul!
In my present isolation, sleep and find a sweet young thing
a room lit by the moonlight, one of those tender young (as they call them now)
who have read my book and listen to my songs;one of the charming idealist
I wrote letters of admiration on scented paper, during that brief period of glory fatal
talking of poetry and the power of illusion, saying they wanted me to be real;
dream slip away in her room darkness, where perhaps my book I am laid on the table of
night with a beautiful velvet point in its pages; dream
stroke shoulder and smile when our eyes meet. "Lestat, I have always believed in you!
I've always known you were coming! "
Volume her face in my hands and bend down to kiss her. "Yes, dear," I answer, "
not know how much I needed, how much I love you, how much I've always wanted!"
may find it more attractive to me because of what happened to me: the unexpected horror
I contemplated the inevitable pain I suffered. It is a terrible truth that suffering makes us deeper
, which adds luster to our colors, provides a richer resonance to our words
. That is, if not destroy us, if not annihilate
our optimism and our mood, our ability to imagine and our respect for the simple things but
indispensable.
Please excuse me if I seem bitter.
I have no right to be. I started everything, and escaped in one piece, so to speak
. Which did not happen to many of our species. There was also
suffered fatal. This is ine
imagine the end of anything I start. The risk is what fascinates me, the situation of
infinite possibilities. Attracts me from eternity, when all other charms decay.
After all, I was already like that when he was alive two hundred years ago, the restless, impatient
, who always threw it all away, for love or a good fight.
When I left for Paris in the 1780's to make me an actor, the only thing that was dreamed
at the beginning of each night, at the time the curtain rises. Perhaps the old
be right. I turn now to the true immortals, the
of blood drinkers who have passed the millennium. They say that none of us really change with the passage
l time, we only become more like us.
To put it another way: one becomes sensible when you live five hundred years, but also have time
become worse than its enemies had thought.
And I'm the devil as always, the young man who wants to appear on the main stage, where you can
look better and where you can, perhaps, love me. One is not good without the other. And
desire both enjoy, cautivaros, make me forgive all ...
random moments of secret contacts and recognition will never be enough, I fear.
But I'm too fast, right?
If you read my autobiography, you want to know what I mean.
What was the catastrophe that I mentioned?
Bien, let's review. As I said, I wrote the book and recorded the album because I wanted to be
visible, to see me as I am, even if only in symbolic terms.
As regards the risk of death could really understand and warn
I was exactly who said it was ... well, that possibility did nothing but excite
more. Let us hunt, let them destroy us, this was, in a sense, my most fervent desire
. Not deserve to exist, would have to kill us. Ah, think of the fighting!
Ah, to fight against those who really know who I am!
But I never expected such a confrontation, and the character of the rock musician
coverage was too great for a diablo like me.
was my own kind who took me to the letter, who decided to punish me for what had
. I, of course, had also taken into account.
After all, in my autobiography told our story, told
our deepest secrets, things I had sworn never to reveal to anyone. And I
strut front of burning lamps and camera lenses. What if I had fallen into the hands of some
scientific or, more likely, in a jealous police officer for a minor traffic violation
five minutes before dawn, and had managed to imprison, inspected,
identify, classify (all it during the daytime, while C would be lyings vampire
morons who tried to punish me for what I had done. And we had an invisible ally
those small skirmishes, our enemies burst into flames before they could have
us no harm.
dawn was approaching, I was too excited by the event of the night to
take seriously the question of the danger. The passionate warning should refuse to listen
Gabrielle (too sweet to hug again) and threw away the black suspect was
Louis as my usual.
And then the confusion, uncertainty ...
Exactly when the sun rose in Caramel Valley and I closed my eyes (as it should do all vampire
at such a time), I realized that was not
alone in my underground lair. Not only had I reached the young vampires with my music, my songs
had awakened from their slumber to the oldest in the world of our species!
And I found myself in one of those moments of risk and possibility that are breathtaking.
What would happen? Would you die in the end, or perhaps reborn?
But to tell the full story of what happened after that, I
step back in time.
I started about ten fateful night before the concert, and I do that I deslicéis
in the minds and hearts of other beings, beings who react to my music and to
my book in a way which I knew then little or nothing.
In other words, many things were happening then I had to rebuild
. And now, I offer this reconstruction.
So we will leave the narrow confines of the lyrical first-person singular and let's dive
, like thousands of writers have been fatal, in the minds and souls
personages different. " We will throw the world of the "third person" and "multiple
point of view."
And by the way, when these other characters think or say about me I'm cute or
irresistible, etc., do not think it was me who put those words in their minds.
did not! It was what I was told later, or what I gathered from their minds with telepathic
my unfailing power;ia, or
me go crazy.
So until then, do not stop thinking about you, I love you, wish you were here ...
in my arms.
Tragic Tragic Rabbit, a painting,
caked ears green like rolled corn.
The black forehead pointing at the stars.
A painting on my wall, alone
as rabbits are and are not. Plump red cheeks,
all Art, mouth trembling,
a hard habit to break as there is.
also you can be a tragic rabbit; verdirroja
your back, blue your manly little chest.
But if you ever feel tempted to become one with the True Care
meat, you bring down your tragic
horse and break your tragic colors like a ghost breaks
marble
your wounds will heal so quickly that the water
yousense of the word) that I am not taking place. I even figured that this
way, do some good playing the devil on the stage.
The last time we had to start something with good standing.
just debuted in San Francisco was the first "live concert" band for me and my mortal. Our
album was a huge success. My autobiography was doing respectably well with the dead
as the undead.
Then something completely unexpected. At least I had not expected. And
when I left, my life hung by a thread, so to speak.
Well, it's all over now, all that followed. I survived, obviously. I would not be talking co
n if you did not. Finally cosmic dust has settled, and the small tear in the fabric
world of rational beliefs has been amended, or at least closed.
For all these reasons, I am a little sad, I'm a little meaner and a little more aware
. I'm also infinitely more powerful, although human in my
interior is closer than ever to the surface: an anguished and hungry who loves hates
while this shell invincible and immortal which is enclosed.
"The thirst for blood? Insatiable, although physically never needed less. I think
could exist without it completely. But the desire I feel for everything going tell me that such a thing nu
nca going to be tested.
You know, was never just the need for blood, although blood is the most sensual of
everything a child could want, is the intimacy of the moment (to drink, to kill), the big dance
melee that dance when the victim is weak and I feel that I dilate, gobbling
death, for a split second, it burns with such large as life.
However, it is an illusion of the senses. No death can last as long as a
life. And that's the reason why I continue to take lives, right? Right now, I'm
further than ever from all salvation. The fact that we know, only makes things worse.
Of course, I can still pass for human, we all Podemmortal goes his way.
ever let go of all the costumes, I go as I am. Long hair, a velvet jacket
that reminds me of the past, and a pair of emerald rings in hand
right. And walked at a deliberate pace through the crowd, the center of the city, this charming and corrupt
southern city, or wander slowly along the white sand beaches
as the moon, breathing the warm breeze.
Nobody is looking over a second. There are too many inexplicable things
around: horrors, threats, mysteries that draw, and then inevitably disenchant
. And back to the predictable and routine. The prince is never going to get the whole world what
new sensations I am. The soft murmur of voices
supernatural can not deviate from that distress me. The taste of mortal
recognition was too seductive, the disks in the windows, jumping and clapping my fans
front of the stage. No matter that really did not believe he was a vampire
those moments, we were together. Cheered my name!
LPs now gone and I will never hear those songs. My book
continues, along with Confessions of a Vampire, disguised, security, fiction, which is
perhaps it should be. Already caused too much trouble, as you will see.
hauled Catastrophe is what my little games. The vampire who could have been, at last,
hero and martyr for a moment of pure glory ...
think that this taught me something, right? Well, actually, yes. Certainly.
But as painful retreat back to the shadows! ... Lestat, the impeccable and
nameless gangster blood sucking, back to stalking
helpless mortals who know nothing of men like me. It is so hurtful to be again the attacker, provided the margin,
battling good and evil in the ancient hell particular body and soul!
In my present isolation, sleep and find a sweet young thing
a room lit by the moonlight, one of those tender young (as they call them now)
who have read my book and listen to my songs;one of the charming idealist
I wrote letters of admiration on scented paper, during that brief period of glory fatal
talking of poetry and the power of illusion, saying they wanted me to be real;
dream slip away in her room darkness, where perhaps my book I am laid on the table of
night with a beautiful velvet point in its pages; dream
stroke shoulder and smile when our eyes meet. "Lestat, I have always believed in you!
I've always known you were coming! "
Volume her face in my hands and bend down to kiss her. "Yes, dear," I answer, "
not know how much I needed, how much I love you, how much I've always wanted!"
may find it more attractive to me because of what happened to me: the unexpected horror
I contemplated the inevitable pain I suffered. It is a terrible truth that suffering makes us deeper
, which adds luster to our colors, provides a richer resonance to our words
. That is, if not destroy us, if not annihilate
our optimism and our mood, our ability to imagine and our respect for the simple things but
indispensable.
Please excuse me if I seem bitter.
I have no right to be. I started everything, and escaped in one piece, so to speak
. Which did not happen to many of our species. There was also
suffered fatal. This is ine
imagine the end of anything I start. The risk is what fascinates me, the situation of
infinite possibilities. Attracts me from eternity, when all other charms decay.
After all, I was already like that when he was alive two hundred years ago, the restless, impatient
, who always threw it all away, for love or a good fight.
When I left for Paris in the 1780's to make me an actor, the only thing that was dreamed
at the beginning of each night, at the time the curtain rises. Perhaps the old
be right. I turn now to the true immortals, the
of blood drinkers who have passed the millennium. They say that none of us really change with the passage
l time, we only become more like us.
To put it another way: one becomes sensible when you live five hundred years, but also have time
become worse than its enemies had thought.
And I'm the devil as always, the young man who wants to appear on the main stage, where you can
look better and where you can, perhaps, love me. One is not good without the other. And
desire both enjoy, cautivaros, make me forgive all ...
random moments of secret contacts and recognition will never be enough, I fear.
But I'm too fast, right?
If you read my autobiography, you want to know what I mean.
What was the catastrophe that I mentioned?
Bien, let's review. As I said, I wrote the book and recorded the album because I wanted to be
visible, to see me as I am, even if only in symbolic terms.
As regards the risk of death could really understand and warn
I was exactly who said it was ... well, that possibility did nothing but excite
more. Let us hunt, let them destroy us, this was, in a sense, my most fervent desire
. Not deserve to exist, would have to kill us. Ah, think of the fighting!
Ah, to fight against those who really know who I am!
But I never expected such a confrontation, and the character of the rock musician
coverage was too great for a diablo like me.
was my own kind who took me to the letter, who decided to punish me for what had
. I, of course, had also taken into account.
After all, in my autobiography told our story, told
our deepest secrets, things I had sworn never to reveal to anyone. And I
strut front of burning lamps and camera lenses. What if I had fallen into the hands of some
scientific or, more likely, in a jealous police officer for a minor traffic violation
five minutes before dawn, and had managed to imprison, inspected,
identify, classify (all it during the daytime, while C would be lyings vampire
morons who tried to punish me for what I had done. And we had an invisible ally
those small skirmishes, our enemies burst into flames before they could have
us no harm.
dawn was approaching, I was too excited by the event of the night to
take seriously the question of the danger. The passionate warning should refuse to listen
Gabrielle (too sweet to hug again) and threw away the black suspect was
Louis as my usual.
And then the confusion, uncertainty ...
Exactly when the sun rose in Caramel Valley and I closed my eyes (as it should do all vampire
at such a time), I realized that was not
alone in my underground lair. Not only had I reached the young vampires with my music, my songs
had awakened from their slumber to the oldest in the world of our species!
And I found myself in one of those moments of risk and possibility that are breathtaking.
What would happen? Would you die in the end, or perhaps reborn?
But to tell the full story of what happened after that, I
step back in time.
I started about ten fateful night before the concert, and I do that I deslicéis
in the minds and hearts of other beings, beings who react to my music and to
my book in a way which I knew then little or nothing.
In other words, many things were happening then I had to rebuild
. And now, I offer this reconstruction.
So we will leave the narrow confines of the lyrical first-person singular and let's dive
, like thousands of writers have been fatal, in the minds and souls
personages different. " We will throw the world of the "third person" and "multiple
point of view."
And by the way, when these other characters think or say about me I'm cute or
irresistible, etc., do not think it was me who put those words in their minds.
did not! It was what I was told later, or what I gathered from their minds with telepathic
my unfailing power;ia, or
me go crazy.
So until then, do not stop thinking about you, I love you, wish you were here ...
in my arms.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Grooped In The Train Movie
At last came Kaolla, on 8 January. It is beautiful. I have written
Akane sheet. And then after I will make pictures of her and Kaolla to put photos on the cards (and I Kaolla tab)
Akane Teno a crisis since I bought it, I can not give your personla, or his history or his style. Today I wrote the story that has left me alone. I want to make a change to look to see if our reation does it work better ^ ^ because I love ...
There goes your story ^ ^
(HISTORY IN THE NEXT POST)
Akane sheet. And then after I will make pictures of her and Kaolla to put photos on the cards (and I Kaolla tab)
Akane Teno a crisis since I bought it, I can not give your personla, or his history or his style. Today I wrote the story that has left me alone. I want to make a change to look to see if our reation does it work better ^ ^ because I love ...
There goes your story ^ ^
(HISTORY IN THE NEXT POST)
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