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Story, Thrilling Luck

”Here we are now walking through one of the green corridors.” Some of them laughed, but not everyone. It had been a long day… Just a few hours ago some of them might have asked why an absolutely white corridor was called green, but by now most were too tired to ask. Undisturbed by the lack of interest from his students the guide continued answering the unspoken question.

”It sounds like a

April 22, 2006 | 6:04 AM Comments  0 comments

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Poem, I Apologize for Being Me...

...I just don't know who else to be.

~*~Sometimes I look into your expression
in those few unguarded moments
and I know that somehow, I’m hurting you
I sit down by your side,
not close enough to touch you
But close enough for you
if you need me
As soon as you ask me to
I’ll be there
pulling you into my arms,
telling you that everything
will be alright
You believe me, don’t you?
Of course you do

April 18, 2006 | 6:04 AM Comments  0 comments

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Some Laws of Murphy for Your Amusement

lol. Came up with most of them myself, I think (It's hard to know with so many of them floating aroud the place. ;-) ) Enjoy!


*If you have taken every possible and impossible way of things going wrong into consideration and have backup and triple backup plans for every thing of course people will think you crazy, you will develop an ulcer and nothing will go wrong.

*When you have finally

April 10, 2006 | 2:04 AM Comments  0 comments

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Text, Walkabout

Written about one of my travels. This one was inspired by a walk down the Málaga streets. To know more about this city, go to malaga.com

Walkabout
The Aborigines say that when all seems pointless and you’ve lost your way, you must start to walk and keep on walking until you meet yourself. Then you will be lost no more.
I’m paraphrasing of course, but the idea is a solid one. Just keep on

April 7, 2006 | 10:04 AM Comments  0 comments

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Poem, Guardian at the Gate

Guardian at the Gate

~*~

He stands where the white willows
weep for the crimson stains
On ground that will forever be covered
with blood of the innocent ones

~red flowers that never will fail~

Where the last phoenix swings from her tree
and sings her final serenade
that shall never be heard by a living ear
Before she bursts into flame

~a fire that can warm any heart~

He stands where the

April 7, 2006 | 6:04 AM Comments  0 comments

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