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01-03-2004, 22:55 | |
ik vind het echt geweldig, ik heb er minstens 5 keer naar gekeken.
naar een foto van liv tyler kan ik niet 5x kijken, hoewel ik die toch echt prachtig is.... is het kunst? misschien wel. Salvador Dali werd ooit uitgelachen maar mooi is het niet.
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Totaal mega ultra-extreem loco
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02-03-2004, 00:35 | ||
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02-03-2004, 09:17 | ||
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Als je niet op commentaar zit te wachten, post die meuk dan niet. Bovendien heeft de titel geen enkel verband met de inhoud. |
03-03-2004, 11:07 | ||
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Summer resort, the West-Yermond lake, you, your dad and me. Great times we had, spending our days in pleasure, enjoying silent nature and tough conditions of the weather. We watched Bow, the dog, swim yet everyday. One day, your dad needed to fix the car. Bow went with him, we stayed in the garden and watched the sun die behind in the mountains. We spoke about the galaxy and images of life while staring at this enormous peaks of the mountains into the sky. I know I have been trying to understand things about life and the all and none excisting. I remember you being very wise, so wise I know your words could have moved mountains. And then, late night, when Bow returned, the car and your dad were gone. For three days we stayed in the house, going crazy on what might have happened to him, what he might have done. The fourth night, when you were sleeping pretty early because of being so miserable from the missing of your dad, water was dripping through our roof and walls. I tried to open the front door but it wouldn't do, water came out of anywhere. I checked outside through a window and could see nothing but black, but I didn’t hear any rain. I was screaming for help and you just stayed on your bed not moving. I shook you very rough but you just were not waking up. You were not even moving any. When I tried to call Bow he was gone. Next to his little house outside I could see a tiny spark slowly moving right, left, up and down. When I turned around to get myself out of this wretched situation you were breathing in my neck without saying anything. Your eyes were staring at Bows house like crazy. I was gonna run out and leave this forest, it had made insane. But your hands, they were holding me tightly around my arms. This vision of your body and another angry soul in it was not being right to me. I dragged you down to the kitchen and tried to get a knife. The way of you holding me this firmly remembered me of one time you were so scared and came to me for shelter, but now you were doing so without reason. You were moving your arms around my neck and didnt look at me anymore, your face stared at the ground, eyes wide open without closing. This performing was totally not you. While I heared a car approaching the house, I could only cough a lot and pull you tiny bits nearer to the kitchen. Your embrace was almost killing me now because of loss of breath. When I had found a knife I was confronting myself with the choice to either harm you or die myself, this strong grip you were holding me in, it was unbearable and so unlikely for a body like yours to supply this kind of power. I saw this kind of blue light against Bow’s shed now and heared Bow barking. You had your face down now but still holding me so firmly. Then, when I had just decided to drop the knife and loose my life over your psychological disorder in the hope you would regain logic, your dad came in and shot me three times in my stomach. I could not even see his eyes or face. I remember his clothing being ripped and water dripping from one of his trousers. After that I only remember you releasing me, dropping me on the floor and this really loud noise on the background. It was like distorting T.V.’s. I know Bow had been attacking your dad and I heard Bow was shot by the loud barks he made. He didn't die, but received ten or more shots, probably in parts which only hurt and dont cause so much loss of blood or direct death. The door was open and he, Bow, entered with his lingering lower body into the kitchen. We must have been there for hours, we were both too weakened to move any further. Making soft sounds from the pain that every splinter of the shotgun had made in us we stayed there. Bow was sleeping against me that night and the next morning when I woke up he was dead. The undeniable pain had weakened me so much I almost couldn’t hear and see anymore. It must have been around the afternoon when the water started entering our house again, I saw with difficulty the water enter every crack through the roof, the walls and even come from the floor. This couldn’t have been rain, the sun was shining brightly outside. This flood of water was just like the other night. That was when I closed my eyes and left this summer resort, leaving in pain, dying in rain. Knowing that your words could have moved mountains.
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Her words could have moved mountains....
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08-03-2004, 15:30 | |
Verwijderd
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wapper nou maar weg met je stomme plaatjes , het is gewoon lelijk, hoe je het ook bekijkt. Accepteer gewoon dat je niet alles meteen goed gaat. Laat dit werk achter je, en probeer het gewoon nog een keer, je zult dan wel horen of je beter bent geworden Krijg je dan weer een hoop negatieve reacties, tja dan zou je een andere hobby kunnen gaan zoeken
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08-03-2004, 20:16 | |||
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