Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Hernia Hurt My Testicale

the third night - Miguel

sounded Milonga del Marinero and Captain , Los Rodríguez. It was his third night and still did not stop. The first was crowned with friendship, the second with the indifference and now the third, still had no label.
If your first night ended early and smiles, while the second has weighed on the heart: Miguel had been crying, drunk on the streets of your city, walking straight, but zigzag between memory and remembrance, as its major route was in the thoughts. He was a bad cliché that had served as a lesson, the kind you never forget, and the love that cried one last time.
Now in its third night, friendship and furtive romances filled the place, the music sounded, and the woman who danced in the distance would not let him take off the look. She moved from a forth, and others, and their dance partners, they were just decorative objects of the huge stage where the woman moved lightly, more women than any other and happier than all the smiles she had seen. Your feline consumed him and he did not mind dropping a little, just a little more.
if some beats on that night, she invented, and it invaded his thoughts, as a torrent. Still, Michael was with friends several years, and his own cowardice - then rebel - like social commitments that tie up to the most free, hands tied him ... but it sure was more his cowardice, and he reproached him.
That night there was no alcohol, as before, tonight would not be tied to those memories that had crushed the soul and then, finally finding the way out of his head was gone by providing a solution, simplest, clearest, face everything head on.
followed the music, eighth notes, sixteenth note, eighth and sixteenth notes that their way through the dense clouds of smoke and alcohol on the breath that filled the bar, his feet were light to move to its rhythms, echoing in heads and their hearts. It was a feast of looks and friction, bodies Search and kisses at a rate cadent, assonance body that challenged the staff to consider a new formula, simpler, less structured.
Miguel was lost in those fleeting kisses and well-known, perhaps in other circumstances, but re-met. At the same time knew they were kisses of friendship, the conclusion of a dialogue that had passed for a moment the words. And just for an instant ceased to appear that image dancing.
When he was outside the bar, and everyone was preparing to go to their places, reappeared this woman, who looked fresh incitement to dialogue. For a moment doubted this person's normal, and so such as Santeria, they did move without full mastery of the body, his whole being propelled into this space that attracted him. But still, the weight of those around him was stronger and, as already noticed, your cowardice. It
clear, and only will make it clear this time that Michael does not always act the same way, but this time they left last sentence badly and, as he had told a good friend, it seemed that these weeks Karma had played dirty, and all situations traveled directly into a tailspin.
Anyway, all was not lost, and she was happy, that Santeria, which approached him and demanded the contact. They talked a little while and the dialogue was sealed with a kiss that was burning what remained of the night.
Soon, he was traveling in a bus would not stop singing the party is not concluded in the evening, between the old and new friends, talking and laughing. Though surreal, filled with drums micro, the chauffeur, an old man, laughing and singing to the rhythm of the passengers, and the speed increased while the songs. The "frog", just smoked and watched the enfiestados, the enfiestados is watching each and shared the confidence of strangers.
So the party moved on wheels and Miguel arrived at its destination, to continue walking, accompanied by some of the occupants of the bus that fell in the same stop, and some other quiltro that as guardians, escorted to their homes.
He gave directions to the bus terminal to a footballer, who played a game in a few hours in Santiago, and gave the closing night. Without thinking through its third day and the beginning of an endless cycle, a Samsara, the Samsara, which ties him irrevocably to life, and brings to life after that.

Friday, July 2, 2010

What Causes Eyelid Warts

Sunday in the bathroom - By City


Michael, sitting on the toilet Read the newspaper. It is Sunday and not have to work, there is not much to do in a small apartment, empty like that, so it takes time and begins with the national news.


Outside the department, on the street, you hear children playing and the heavy atmosphere of the last day of the week he loses a little slumber Sunday.


Abstracted in reading, runs the hearing by the lyrics full of hypocrisy and euphemism: a political one hits of autism in their statements (something happens that is not their job to be assertive, and less honest) leaders are vying for first place in their pockets from the public purse. Nothing unusual, but emputece it anyway.


When your view jumps to the international body does not change your mood, several countries still at war but next to a column is much higher on a given figurine television, and among so it goes tit people forget that the same plastic burn people do not know what area of \u200b\u200bconflict.


Her face crumples and twists, and do not know if this is the result of reading or work in the bathroom anyway - and doubts - he rushes to finish with both.


The culture section of the newspaper is not out of the ordinary, only this time the recommended bestseller becomes one of those self-help booklets pompous names he did not know, nor even its author.


Dizziness numbs it a bit, but it bears the blame on the gases emanating from the work.


Search
toilet paper and realizes there is nothing left, so that his face expression changed immediately, finding long-lost response to touring the fallacies of the weekly newspaper: "Everything returns to its roots" - he smiles, giving a practical use cluster size of banalities and lies.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Unblock Farmville News Feeds In Facebook

These are very party, dammit! Daniel Viglietti

parties are needed, but luckily there is little for us to embrace the winter holidays. For now I leave something that smells like party, to spend long nights at the end of the semester.

(extracted from "In Chaya time anyone gets upset "by Maximiliano Salinas)