Either a thing, phrase or image or...whatever you think works...just want to try it.
Hope some of you throw some ideas my way.
Ta. L.


VerisimilitudeSerene cadence of neo-noir death of masterpiece velvet upon screen. A story to unhinge the listening soul but a wicked reflection almost unseen.Verisimilitude
Such harrowing beauty and sublime honesty in fact purloined. My heart breaks at such artistry.
I hear the solemn song of my existence as laughter within a gilded purse. Echoes ring in vault-like basements filled with dusty reels, lies terse.
From the final tone of such betrayal I set my body painfully, ruefully upon a value. I give to the listening soul my song, my art, which shall be all tr


Upon My PageThe paper communes blankly with the o'erbrimming soul fit to burst at midnight, the seminal hour of its confessions. In delirious fervour, ravaged by its attempts at words, a phrase, like the first instance of man, appears wan upon the page.Upon My Page
Journey from within out into the unskinned climate, is like untying a knot on a circular rope. One proceeds from beginning to end but no avail... jape played upon the blind man.
Moments there are, perhaps, when sentiments and a syntax meet softly, silently and in that mist of thought deliquesce...and offer their elemental beau


If I...If I lay down in the river lowlyIf I...
with my flesh black carious and bones cracked, could I entice within the woven judgements of your gaze the tender space by you I have long craved?
If I threw my head above the honeyed hell of parties and bared my teeth and took a life, would I tease from your chaste admiration a flutter of rose petals destined for the great?
If I were to fall proudly for you into peril and the grasp of sacrement, should I recieve your heart as saving grace and walk with you anointed by your smile?
These are the discords of a wanton mi
The Thinker

Observations in Chicago.i.Observations in Chicago.
I knew the man was blind because he had one of those red and white striped canes you see in old movies. The really long ones; the kind that remind me of the little plastic cylinders on the strings of jump ropes, and with a thin loop handle on the end. He looked at me, or really, he looked past me, and I expected to see those odd, disturbing eyes but I saw nothing. Real nothing. Empty sockets where the eyes had been. The sight of the hollow flesh made me freeze. Not in the sense of motion - if I had been walking I would have kept at it - but it made me feel cold. Really cold. Colder-than-the-windy-city cold. And I realized that
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"hayat ölümün biyolojik olarak aktif safhasıdır. hiçbirimiz yaşamıyoruz, hepimiz ölüyoruz."
Chuck Palahniuk
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\"I do not exhort you to love of your neighbour; I exhort you to love of the most distant.\"
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
Yes, Pryce is quite excellent. I saw Ralph Fiennes in God of Carnage last year too, and even Nigel Havers as Captain Hook once! Not so much a performance as two hours of giggling, that one, heh.
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-StationToStation-
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\"I do not exhort you to love of your neighbour; I exhort you to love of the most distant.\"
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
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-StationToStation-
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