Impetigo Dogs Treatment

Beating Death

beats / beats
only the rain beats

just the rain that continues
beats / beats / beat
not feel the rain
beats / beats
beats / drum beats
/ death on
broken gutters
Bat-Bat / voyages ...
.... death.

Butal Apap 325 Caff Tab Mlk Com

KALEIDOSCOPE 06 - Memories (Mirror Dating)

Yes, I am sure that guy has Gabriel called no doubt ... Gabriel, the name haunted me ever since ... ... then why the man chose that name for his death?
No, actually I do not care at all, only now the name will be carved into the living flesh of my consciousness for a perpetual memory of what I did.
wonder if the guy before me was an Gabriele as it was not me, even if only for a moment ... maybe, he clung to his companion as if its still, as I am to mine, although I was drowning quest'ancora preventing me to swim ...
is pulled off by the boy's eyes, looks around, seems surprised to be on the bus.
She stares at me. It seems is shaking, maybe my view reminds him of himself too. Go look at the haste with her boyfriend. Imperceptibly around the face to my left. The
we can get ... my woman ... Eva my hate, and yet even now I feel pleasure in feeling the warmth of her body, just like that morning ...




sheets ... Numbness ... warm body clinging to (his) tight grip of tender meat, the blockade of the will (my, my will).
can not move, her face angry about that. I do not feel, I can only see his lips before waving: full-bodied growl of languid forms .- -. I piss. I'll wait he wakes up. I do not like to wait smile .- -. The blow up in your ear. What a funny wrinkled her nose ...
... Awakening and Breakfast: the usual.
It seems that a fly has annoyed the morning, continued to rest on its ear.
It's time to mount a mosquito net. I agree with you, smiling.
Approaches sly. Of course with the money for that job today ... meow. Why, why ruin the moment! Silly kitty! Intelligent eyes, you know immediately and remedied. Suggests a picture: she dressed only in a veil of mosquito netting wrapped. The pout is shattered. I broke a smile on his face. Alas, I fear that she will have won. Talk about anything else. He takes away the prey! The kitten has made her nails and has become lioness. Lioness on the hunt, following the antelope from a distance, expected to be alone, helpless, ignorant and zap the grabs.
Here, I find myself already hugging her while devouring my will with ravenous kisses. He has not yet won. Missing the final blow, decisive blow.
"You know that your photo is on the cabinet?" Sure that the memory, but it is better to buy time.
"What?" "But, that's when I was 5, my darling with her pretty dress and her face sullen ..." is what I mean: I was forced to go to Mass, I did not want, I already knew where he wants to end up. - Nod - "... You were lovely even then my little rebellious. And I also remember the story told me ... "
Yeah, I did not want to go to church, I still remember. Funny story of a logical deduction (or so I thought then) a child of 5 years.
Sera. News. They speak of the Pope had to be done everything he said the Pope So I had heard from his grandmother in a crash of the other cars - 50 dead and 300 wounded - (not that they make much sense to me those numbers and words, but TV news kept saying something to an accident, or so it seemed).
I raise my head and wonder why. "For what sweetie Grandma? "I answer questions in a face that then was not so rough, but I can not imagine not shooting, almost melted. One side of melted cheese, and yes, even smell.
"Why should I do as the Pope says?". - Smile soft -. "But because he is like the father of all." (That's why they call Papa !!!). Shocked I leave the scene of the accident, so it will stop someone to call an ambulance.
smiling face, soft tits: mom.
and dad? .... Now I'm two ... too complicated, better ask your mother. Cassock flapping. I hang and shoot. He is waving his grandmother. "Greet Grandma, too, from a kiss. Bravo. "- Granny goes -. "What did you want cupid?" "Mom, how many children does the Pope have?"
- Ride - "No, the Pope is the servant of God, can not have children, as for the sisters ... you remember, I explained I had when you saw the nun with the bump and you asked me if I'm pregnant ... "I told my grandmother that I was wrong. But now I had a new itch. "Why the Pope is the servant of God? Because God wants servants? "" No, not servants in the sense of slaves but as children of God "Even God has children then ... "Who are the children of God?" "We all are, even children who do pranks like you "" Even the nuns? "" Yes, all, because now not return to play with toy cars? "I nodded my head and pretend to play. But if the sisters are the brides of Christ (my mother told me), then that is God, as I understand, how can they be his daughters? Then I know that when you marry a stork comes to leave a baby in the belly of his wife, so if the sisters are the wives of the sons of God must have ... but they told me they do not have them ...
... It was then that I decided it was easier that God does not exist: too many inconsistencies, too many constraints, too many complications to believe in its existence and then in the end I had not ever seen mica.
... So I would not go to church.
"... Remember, you said convinced that God did not exist; Give yourself a slap and you ripromettesti not to get more influence by the" moral law of God ", there is no God to answer for our actions." I smile, though I would cry, took me about where she is now just a matter of time ... "It may well be, but consciousness must always be accountable." "Consciousness is just another red herring, but also admit that no, why would you have regrets about this job? You've also heard what you said that man the other man: he is an abject, would you a favor to humanity, and then my darling you'd like an ancient hero who frees the world from evil, my hero, my everything "
Brava suonatrice of souls, not What can I say, knows all the scores (at least my)
"Yes, at the risk of ending up like Brutus to liberate Rome from the tyranny that has passed down to posterity with a reputation as nothing short of disgraceful and then, you know, not you are very comfortable to be chewed for eternity from the jaws of Lucifer, in the company of Judah and ......" "Bullshit!" - The pussycat blows and interrupts my show of erudition Dante - "You are not never matter what you think most people, and you never believed these otherworldly shit, do not pretend to begin to interest now! "" Ok, but what value can have the opinion of a person who wants another dead, as I can just thinking to believe him? "" It has the same value as the word of those who take even consider his proposal, no, no, do not argue, do not say that there are thinking, the money we need, we need damn it! "
pussycat scratch on the heart ... ... partly right.

Nurses Belts And Buckles

KALEIDOSCOPE 05 - In-schizophrenic



Gabriel smiled. Gabriele smiled heartily. It was the first time he smiled and did not know why he did not know nothing, could not have even define what a smile was asked if they had daughters, he simply continued to smile.
Gabriel smiled. Gabriele smiled for the second time. He smiled to himself, smiled to his Shadow replied with a serious nod of the head, then smiled at the idea of \u200b\u200bhimself, but not his; Gabriel, who has the idea of \u200b\u200bits author, the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel Michael hates the idea greeted him with a wink and a hint of light.
Gabriele smiled a third time. Gabriel smiled at Michael and the author then decided to hate even more the idea that his character had. Michele Gabriele
answered firmly supported the pen at the table and letting the character frozen smile on his third.
Michele, with her eyes looking downward, with an eye on the desk beneath him, with an eye to the sheets on the desk below him a sidelong glance at the figure who emerges from the words written in the paper on the desk below him ... ... Michele thought.
was thinking of Gabriel, or at least believed, really believed the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel, who had the idea that an author has his character, never the character, and if they like him is never quite the same as him because, well, let me tell you, they know the characters always surprise their authors.
know that at the very moment when a character comes to life already differs from what it was before (the idea of \u200b\u200bhimself in the mind of the author), the existence brings him a change, a continuous change that will accompany it 's taking it away from instant to instant route path for him.
But these are just thoughts.
chipped fragments of thoughts.
crystals thoughts interrupted by an annoying sound, repetitive, almost petulant.
Michael is annoyed.
- A first ring greets him -
... The phone, there is a tangible demonstration of that world.
would almost want to break it by throwing it against the wall, hoping that the elimination of evidence of the existence of the world eliminate even the world itself.
- A second ring sounds fearful - (telefonuccio poor little frightened)
useless to do so, there are many other tests and if it were to eliminate all should destroy everything in the world and that it is ....
... after all even himself.
- Third ring with a note of apprehension mixed with reproach -
was him. Yes, Michael was sure, could not be him, only that person did the phone ring like that, with all others (or at least with those who called him) sent the phone rings formal, indifferent.
- Fourth Ring: A mortally wounded animal that howls help - lightning
A thought: never trust a wolf, even if wounded.
He wanted to make him wait a little longer ', at least one more phone call or two, but it was the fourth and the fifth after he missed.
- sigh -
Lift the handset by placing all of a sudden end, as with a sharp shot, the suffering of the wolf. Instinctively look to the running calendar on the wall opposite.
Some sheets that claims to represent the time. Some dates underlined. One day circled today. One day circled in pencil, with a light stroke, almost invisible, almost as to be autoconvincere had not seen the date.
Yet from that day on suspicion of invisibility immediately obvious in the midst of all the other signatures, underlining ... shone his immaculate just scar scarred by the impalpable, the tract in pencil.
"Hello Michael" "Hello, pa ', I was going to call you to tell you that I can not come." "Oh, sorry, you're not sick right?" "No, no pa' I'm fine, it's just a matter of work, You know how I did ... if it is not okay ... "" Yeah, I know ... "
knowledge. A word from turning over in his mind as a polished stone in his hands ...
gaze falls on the sheets on the desk.


Shadow of Gabriel becomes serious and looking at the idea of \u200b\u200bGabriel begins to speak.
Shadow: knowledge.
Idea: Knowing something
Shadow: know.
Idea: It's not ignore.
Shadow: Ignore
Idea: is what is not knowledge
Shadow: Ultimately I can not define knowledge if not by itself ... I can not even claim to know the words I say!


"But promise me you will come to see me next week, is already the third time that you're not." "Yes, come, you sure of that."


Shadow: You give too many things for granted, you will create a world based on the certainty that they are as such only because conventional!
Idea: may well be, but you, strictly speaking, not that you doubt your own uncertainty, unless you believe that your question is the same certainty, but if so it should not have too purely conventional? However, failure to express a term does not mean not being able to understand it.


"Hey Michael, are you listening to me?" Eh pa '? Sorry I was lost in thought, did you say something? "
" No, nothing, no matter "


Shadow: But who tells you that the same term, the same" something ", not" inclusive "in different ways depending on each person who understands him?
Idea: is inevitable, I think, because communication is gaining a degree of uncertainty, but uncertainty is relative, is a diversity of meanings that is directly proportional to the diversity of each human being, and it is this plurality of meanings that shows the richness of language.
But that same something can also be understood in the same way by different people, not for their being different, but for their being equal, between different people, however there is always something of the same, at least in the existence ... at least in humans.
said that the Shadow and the idea looked in the direction of Gabriel, who smiled at them.


"Well Michael, I salute you, so I'll leave you to your work." "Hello, pa ', next week."
"Yeah ... already."
The handset falls on the receiver .... stroke of the guillotine .... conclusion worthy of the noble communication ... one empty, one external, that tyrannize and stands pompous, contemptuous as an absolute monarch, in any way to be ..
Not a tear for the loss? No, on the other hand have always been on the side of the Jacobins. Vive la France! Vive la Liberté! Vive Monsieur Guillotin!
Even if in fact the guillotine would not have accepted even in the metaphorical sense ... too sharp, too certain of its decisions, however, are irrevocable, but with it there is no room for doubt, professing a single truth: her, not stated, but it sets ... also know is how the oppressed become oppressors.
presumption is easy to pretend to impose the truth!
Sure! Certainty. Ineluctable modalities of credible ... being certain that you can not believe ... and as you are not sure you can always believe (to believe in all), some believe that it is already a certainty.
... Maybe, maybe so ... but what would be a certainty so constituted as to be mere expression of the possible? (Assuming that the "credible" and "only" the infinite range of possibilities!) Probably wrong, in the end I'm not at all certain ....

Symptoms Of Hodgkin's Relapse

Certainties The wishes of the hypocrites

Greetings my darling little weird! Greetings
hundred thousand good things and bad
wishes of sleep, rock, sex, dirt,
off his back, arrogant
and blah, blah, blah ....
of A hundred other words that I keep everything.
Greetings from the heart, a bit
'lung,
of the gallbladder, which is not so,
Greetings
spleen and gall bladder or kidneys and liver with sauteed onions and white wine
I've prepared for dinner.
Get well my mimosa
embalmed to be recycled each year,
(never too old, never been new)
take it by if you like chrysanthemums
but tomorrow
rascal come home to make wool.

Huband Secretly Masterbates

KALEIDOSCOPE 04 - The Annunciation of Gabriel (mobile meetings and intermezzo ambulatory)

"I'm sorry Gabrielle, I have tried in every way to start the machine, I fear that we will have to take the bus."
"Do not Luca worry, it does not matter, I just need your presence ... I do not know if I'd told the grandfather himself. "
Slight fingertip pressure on the back of the hand and the caress of his eyes.
I can read in his eyes the faint of understanding silence, mute, because inexpressible depth of emotions ....
apparent from his face. The world around me has changed without my noticing.
Now we're on the bus: Background noise; the dissatisfied grumbling of the engine ... people sitting in front of me.
One couple, will our age, ... but that guy ... reminds me of myself, he looks so desperate ... is unnerving, it's like looking in the mirror and see in him exactly what you want to hide yourself, haunts me, seems to point the finger to underline my suffering.
No, better to immerse yourself in Luke, at least until we get from his grandfather.


----------------------------------------------- -----
climb stairs very slowly.
I purposely avoided the elevator.
the footsteps of Luke behind me preventing me from escaping again from myself.
I am ashamed to discover that this is a bit 'angry with him. Here
the door.
D *** A *** on the bell.
"Hello Grandfather." "Oh, Gabriel! What a nice surprise to see me make me! "
Gabriele smiled a bitter smile.

Good Have Yoghurt Have Stomach Bug

KALEIDOSCOPE 03 - Lady Macbeth




in mind the words of the letter that had arrived in the morning and an image, that of his dead father slumped on his desk.

Gabriel ran.

Fuga. Escape.

The hot air from the lungs and condenses into small clouds around me. Grips me a chill .... an ice that burns. Cocito Damn! It is the torment of Cain!
The clouds lose air quickly, and with the speed of my bike, perpetual far, far from being uniform, the gathering behind me. The untrimmed guess a gust of wind.
Track of our passage. The trace of human existence ... small clouds of condensed water vapor that flake melts into air replaced in less than a minute from other small clouds that invariably follow the fate of those that preceded them. This air is full of dirty breaths of a thousand generations. I climb a retching while I think that living breathing corpses of the past.

Fuga. Escape. But as

'll never run far enough away to escape from myself?
Corro, his face wet. The
face streaked ... no, not tears, but drops of rain ... pitiful ... as if to mask the anguish that I try to find my dry eyes ... cold.
What a monster ... show that even if I would be standing there gazing at the corpse had not even managed to drip a tear ... maybe if I ran it was not for the horror, but for fear of discovering that the horror left me indifferent.
Again the roar of the rain echoes in my ears, long continuous wail, slow agony of seccaspri whispers rhythmically monotonous, as my steps, many steps, how many? ... 1, 2.10, 100, 547 ... whatever number, for each x such that x belongs to the set of real numbers, walk-positive numbers ... and negative? These are steps backwards? Well, I do not think ... I do not care just now has, has not dropped, the language of mathematics ... reality depends on the system by which encodes an impersonal language will also impersonal reality so I can go on thinking, thinking without falling ... falling ... no, we're falling back! Think more! For more! The siren of an ambulance, I cling to his sound, propagation of sound waves, sound weak, the ambulance leaves, Doppler effect, curious correlation between the sirens of ambulances and the relative motion of galaxies, already - and just smile sketched off - but quell'ambulanza ... agony of people, tired of dying stars ...
restart Damn! Close your eyes, do not think, run, run home.
House, home, here it is check around the corner, the den to hide, put the sand in which the head (blessed are the ostriches). After a time I reached the unthinkable, unthinkable because I turned off my mind. You can not turn it off? No, it's true, you can not, however, it can be drunk, drunk with the mind and emotions. So the mind is not confused and think the pain that dominates the drowning, it's like a scream that by its very intensity makes us deaf for a while. '(Is this the reason for my apparent coldness?). Here we are. Pull out the keys. My hands are wet. Open the door. Take off your shoes because they are dirty. My hands are wet. Take off his jacket. The hands are full. It's dark. Turn on the light. Hands dripping in the darkness. Hands! Because I feel the blood on his hands? Because my hands are stained with innocent blood? Because my hands are stained with the blood of my innocence? Does not wash, you can not wash the murder of a part of himself. Consciousness, consciousness is the Executioner of themselves, that part of us who believe innocent, that he is convinced they are right!

Damn bastard! but why the fuck did it!?!
Maybe I should try to understand ....
Shit! I should hear it even when he did not want to talk!
My father, my conscience, in fact both.
I should have ... or maybe I could have groped at least ....