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dell'irriproducibilità

resurfaced in recent days to remember my conscience that I did not remember.

each replacing the previous one, and dismissed again into oblivion, perhaps-who knows-forever. so now I am very aware of the last memories surfaced, and I know it's going to replace one that already do not remember anymore. if the concept is not clear.

who knows me knows that I will not speak of events, but of empty boxes, even tonight. Suffice to say that those memories are things to remind me that I was and that, in some cases, I no longer want to be. more reason for not disclosing to third parties satisfied, even though it is not, or at least would not, be censored.

a co-worker who was older than me, told me today: this is the age.

referring to my age.

do not know whether this age, and whether this was also the age, the question is: what age?

but that question to my colleague I have not done, the answer would be redundant, would create an embarrassment, would have emptied the conversation, because the player was right there, in that unspoken.

I, for my part, still do not remember now-significantly-whether before or after I told another fellow my age, it would be nice to have twenty. rather: I only said: eh, have twenty.

but I know well that's not true. when I think it would be nice to have twenty years, I imagine the monstrous combination of my twenty years with my head I have now. the advantage of twenty years with a head of thirty is even obvious: the legal age applications, opportunities and rights that the solidity and concreteness of a more mature brain would know to turn into reality and effects. maybe.

however, resolve the problem pretending to be younger by birth would take her thirst with ham.

that we would be trying to control an identity by installing another bugs bugs identity. and then, to do things as they should, we should tamper with the document.

changing the subject, without changing it for real, between yesterday and today I became clear idea. thanks to the words of a friend.

goodnight to the musicians.

Mono Treatment More Condition_symptoms

The sexual act in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction

there are people likely to get away from your body to re-enter soon after as a guest. metemsomatosi is a kind of mirror, someone rightly calls narcissism. but never that here we deal with psychoanalysis.

here has always been the corner of the repudiation, not of excusationes petita tarallucci and especially of bread, wine, salami Caesar and to God. and if "Caesar" is probably the name of a grocer, "god" was that of a rock star but would be well on a pornodivo.

back to us, so to speak. here is the dell'autoespropriazione bingo, the last bastion of a language of the three cards for thousands of years is now going out of fashion. and now here's a process without courts and without lawyers, with the accused lying anywhere in a fetal position.

wolf sorcerer, a flirty half-moon nights of the Were-Rabbit, thief of tiny hollow hours, seemed to have taken another of his shots harmful, unless it (or rather: because) at the climax, when already holding the bag the jaws sharpened and yellow irises in the dark for rinfilare way to the shelter, they chased the night watchman and they shot him shots of salt, causing some wounds so painful to put your finger in it makes no difference. and now he licks his wounds with great enjoyment autocannibalistico, and with a bowling ball hanging from the black pearl that divine grace is found in place of the heart.

because, once back at the hideout, the den, he opened the bag and there is perhaps in chickpeas, perhaps money, chocolate, stale residue of a very old witch's shoes, or maybe nothing at all.

from wikipedia:

A particular form of narcissism is linked to new technologies, and the web , narcissism is defined digital similar in some respects to ' egosurfing , which is characterized by an immoderate cult of personality , to appear and perform on web with their writings, photos, videos and messages; accomplices Web 2.0 applications that allow any user to create self-produced content with ease. For some authors, such as Andrew Keen (in his book The Cult of the Amateur), the participative web made of blog, audio-video-photo sharing (self) twitter, mashup facilitates the creation of self-produced, self-citations that are gratifying to note the digital narcissism. The individual narcissism often connects to the cultural, Jean Baudrillard, in a society so consumed the individual tends to flee to a consummation of their image, with forms of denial of 'otherness affogondola in self-complacency. This definition seems similar to that of postmodernism, where, as Baudrillard, it is necessary that this imago is sold to be content with disease risk, while the narcissistic writing, can be "discovered" and therefore can be recovered as reparation for injury, damage suffered the indignities experienced by people in the real world - by giving this small portable display, a psychological experience with a product similar diary in which the subject can withdraw, to overcome, to repair the injury without this product should become a fetish: returns narcissistic wound in the context of its elaboration and creative.

South Park Fish Stix Stream

The asshole of the night

for years not worked at night. I had forgotten that there is light, because it's salty air, and all that stuff, do not you remember, I did not remember that were so. are things that I have described elsewhere and I do not want to repeat.
weigh your fingers and there is little you can do here. and perhaps there is little to say.
I holed up in a corner where nobody will come to disturb me. maybe I'm hiding too well, the risk of not finding myself either. I'd like to tell the truth as well, which I dig out someone. why would you hide, then? Is it not because someone Stan, which we hide?
unless the hide is not a way to procrastinate. sooner or later those who try will get tired of looking for us, leave the field, and then we come out. but it will still go to hide somewhere else, that will emerge?
but if the goal is to be found, that those who tried to stop looking for could be a problem. because if we were playing hide and no one more try, the game ends. and we find ourselves hiding like idiots, and maybe as time passes and make the end of Japanese soldiers in the mountains of Mindanao for decades, unaware that the war was over.

and who never want to find me tomorrow morning at 7, then when I get out of here and the sun will not be checked again.
who want to find me on the subway. each passenger will be someone who is hiding at that time. someone who is hiding in a subway car.
or someone who goes into hiding in some corner office, as I am doing tonight, tonight.
and when I come home I'm going to hide on the third floor of the mansion, in the room, behind a window, under a blanket. into a deep sleep, I hide. sleep and weight of the flavor of a giant tear amniotic.
I'll be a fetus that is comfortable there, which is not to be born, at least for the time of a dream, maybe two dreams, no more. because then you are born, there is little to be done.
and as said this, when you're Born You Can No Longer Hide. Oh well, I never liked having to do this quote.
in short, we are all here. Who we look for is there, because he who seeks finds. is a saying that applies to things as to people.
in while I was found by a recipient, who was called by Spain because tirassi shit out of her and her family, engineers in a rough asshole of the world, not far from Cordoba.

Church Community Services Letter

raining continuously for three days to Sparigi

raining continuously for three days to Sparigi.