Yamaha Exciter Snowmobile Speedometer

annihilated

Catania February 20, 2010

you know it so well that I almost easier to tell you that myself.

She asks me, always, to write her.

I tell him, again, that maybe I could use humor to tell it.

But she did not, says he prefers when I try to make people laugh.

Where You say which is cool and not let go. And tell him in many, perhaps too many, you begin to believe it and stop pretending.

told him the order: Men Photocopy, roommate Figo, AmicaDiUnaVita, labeler Serial, Moro. They told him a million other people whose names did not remember them, which perhaps were of little importance, but the merit of having been exposed we had. It honors all.

She believed that cold, no, it was not.

He believed he could play at the iceberg, even a lifetime, that despite the size of the iceberg, it would have moved at will and put under the sun to melt it, if only he had wanted. It is overrated, and this was a defect that did not yet know good to have.

She believed not to know that love is love and longing she was dying.

and wanted someone he could devastate it, that he died still standing had grown tired. But since he knew that nobody would be able waived. That was not the time to invest in the love that let you live, and love that kills around did not see, because, wrongly, believed that those are good for hiding to avoid being ever find. And what was she to hide this, right, eluded her.

She did not understand the urgency of those other breath in my face that emanated from the cold. It was thought that they could cover well and get their own way, the rest is under the warm blankets of his bed that cold bear it with great enthusiasm, then why bother to make the fire did melt?

And you had said to each:
"You want me to melt? And then you have got to make a container, if you're not that is the doorway, everything is cold here, you get a pneumonia if not dislodge. "

And someone had left, someone had packed up and had made three sweaters, which bronchopneumonia did not want his nose already flowed and hands were cut small bleeding wounds.

And you had the door open, the mica was dying of their absences and patches for their bleeding wounds he had none.

metereopatica She believed to be in the morning but opened his eyes and rose to the sky and the sun bothered her and made her weep, if you do not cry. And I realized at once that that sun was just a blow to volunteer his humor always gray and that it would take the rain not to suffer dissonance.

She believed that every day ends with the night quite by accident, and thought that the night was not, after all, the normal trend of the day but it was an expression of divine error. And I thought because the night colors all things in black and white, as they become, can not see them anymore. And if you do not see are not there. And the night gives you an ardent and exciting deception and the next day the sun brings you back to the colors and what you saw was black and there is again a millimeter long and the road did not fade.

She had a flair for spiccatissima "Doing and undoing all the time and love and badly beat and raise" sang like Sinatra, and she listened and believed that he had known, perhaps in another life, and he dedicated it to him, that song. That he knew the words to sing her gestures that creates and destroys, which builds and demolishes who loves and then no longer loves, suddenly, and forgets and never knows where the tap and go wherever he decides to go after not is never the right choice.

And you, then, I told everyone he was fine in its ice, the sun bothered her eyes, that there is no need to stop being cold to enjoy life, overreach that is of little use if the implication is that you can fall. And if games not to make them walk the tightrope and always keep on the ground do not run risks.

and make fun of that label Serial while putting a label with the expiration date for love, their love, inviting her to tell and let go. It had told him, a winter afternoon, we have just to go with an expiration date set as branding on the neck, is not only naive but just idiots. She megalomaniac conqueror of his game that captures the challenge and understood that it would not play that game to be won if it were not for love and not his fame as a conqueror.

And on a Sunday how much she had come to AmicaDiUnaVita, with red wine. It was believed that two glasses and two friends were a perfect mix to help you warm up and talk about, later.

E AmicaDiUnaVita had asked him, if she liked.

And she looked at her as you look crazy and said, "It would be in my bed if I did not like."

E AmicaDiUnaVita had only said "Tell her" while she was already NO, with his head.

"I shall neither take nor lose it, why not tell him anything," she whispered Her, and that Sunday had signed any pact with the unsaid.

would become ice in there and we would have frozen all feeling.

"I do not need him to be happy."

E AmicaDiUnaVita had filled the cup again. But this time it hoped to serve as a warm up, let alone to melt. It was only required to state:

"You do not need him to be annihilated happily."

Silvia.