The following snapshot was created in the context of B and S ' short - one against the background of the different perspectives of various bloggers and authors write resulting project many heads with the same concept faced. be forgotten password / My personal experiment:: Theme now. Down Writing, empathy, no exuberant aesthetic Nachschmücken. The text was spontaneous, but comes away from the heart straight from my thread. And you know, is highly flammable.
encounter. Shake hands. Name. He smiles, I smile. It works. From now on, we look for each call, which offers itself to us. Our topics vary. We start with the weather and end with the direction in which we look. It is the same. He approaches per se, I'm holding back.
interview. He stares into the rain and explained. From a man who will move surprised by the sudden rain. The man ran down the street in order not to get wet. But it is ridiculous: The storm is raging so strong that the will not to be wet, is impossible to fulfill. As long as he knows, it does not matter if he runs through the rain or not. He will always be wet, if he strolls or runs for his life. He needs to understand the lesson of the downpour. This lesson applies to everything. He quotes Jim Jarmusch. I think that's sexy.
feeling. He can paint with their eyes 3492 emotions in the air. People are little robots and each copy is held by other screw together. Its structure is foreign to me. From today I will know his plan.
farewell. The plastic cover over the entrance and yells bangs under the pelting rain. Each tenth of a second someone croaks, "Well then." A farewell will not happen. The streams on the tarmac do not move us. Because it hovers above the ground, if you look at each other on breaks. The city is abandoned by God. Just a couple kissing snakes around a lantern of love as drunken seahorses around the coral. Summer scent. When he told me the wet wipes out of the hair, my face growing red. From here on we are sixteen. Every touch is a nail-biter, a furtive caress of the vicious dog. We can not, he would have seen a girl that she was unreasonable, but vulnerable, he would do anything rash and there would be still his age. Why I do not despise him. Question mark. We consciously send another tiny electric shocks. We can not. As goose bumps without hair.
He smiles. Says: The passes.
passes the.
is at this point this jingle: the jingle, which brings everything to collapse, namely that of scratching records, also for other nerve- EWW a disgusting Zonk, break the all giddy euphoria to rubble leaves. Every day you walk between twenty million people and all you want, is that you are not one of them slip out of the brain. Do you give your heart girly-stubborn, but they are infinitesimally small, it can spark a fire. It bothers me that it is important to me.
Remember: Please do not forget it.
Sage: Thank you. It will be forgotten.
A dazzling spectacle of applause, the curtain falls.
This whole thing is as if Hitler states that he has forgotten something. He says "I forgot" and reveals his true actually doing: He has forgotten something, yes, but at least he is simultaneously an undisputed fact be insurmountable main goal - He gassed.
This works only with Hitler.
But it retains its damn basic goal in mind and as it comes to conventions, to self-imposed limits. There are two made for each other, but there is a girl who spits fire and brimstone, and there is an age and with all the friends and colleagues would come and what would they say and then sets a limit one. So he forgets, and his shining goal of all action, and the path of least resistance. He feels, however, forgets, feels, but forgets, feels, however, sucks again, you forget.
He told from a study that showed that unhappy people would be more easily flammable. I say, that would surely obvious: happy people would still have the flame in the heart, a passion or a human being should find out because there was fire. When he looks at me, the emotions Gefühlspumpgun 3492 shoots in my face. Another "So then," a supercooled hug, then run in different directions, drunk with love along the sea horse. This is never over.
More short circuit at about Bastmaat , to01 , Bisaz and St. Burnster .
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