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Прочла в "не было печали" следующую фразу: "Он выключил телевизор и включил проигрыватель, однако голос Тома Йорка сегодня казался невыносимым". Вот почему я сразу полюбила этого норвежского алкоголика Харри Холе, ещё не зная, что он слушает "Radiohead". Теперь понятно.
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After re-reading my last night's entry...

... I should really pull my head out of my arse, shouldn't I?
But bringing into light things that have been rummaging inside of you for a while can be soothing, where is the place to wallow in self-pity if not your own blog?

Back to more down-to-earth matters: my new lemon/lime body butter smells like really cheap sugary kiddie gum. There was no test container, I should know better that buying things like that blindly. But the smell dissolves after a while and leaves me with amazingly smooth skin, so it I think I can get past the odour, although Sickly Sweet is not really my preferred top note.
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Accidents, not waiting to happen

Again, someone I can't have. Same pattern. I didn't think I would be that crazy over anyone again, didn't expect this lipbiting, chesttightening, stomachclenching... desire? Get real, girl. What would I have to share with such a man anyway? Also the time worn argument: you don't know him at all, you can't know. Except I think I can, to some degree, at least from my side. Something like primary instinct: gesture, gaze, posture, perhaps only a slight tilt of the head. Grace. And his voice, of course. Further than that there's only guessing but of course by not giving away too much of himself his entire image gives plenty of room for projection, speculation, wishful thinking and daydreaming. Yeahyeah, I am aware of that. I'm not that stupid.
I could do something about it, I guess I could. We desire the things that we see all the time. But again: what could we possibly share? Also, I am not that willing to make a fool of myself. Dignity is something I would like to hold on to as long as I can, it is my crutch, spine and cape.

A look in the mirror sobers megood.
Saw an accident today, two cars crashing seriously into eachother. It happened so quickly that I couldn't really figure out who's fault it was. Although it happened not too far away the noise of the crash was strangely unspectacular. From television and cinema we are used to big Bangs! and Booms! but the sound was more that of a collapsing thermos bottle. It reminded me of my accident on the bus to Kinlochleven back then.
One of the drivers jumped out of his carand started gesticulating and jumping around, clearly in shock and
highly hysterical. Nobody appeared to be injured, others were there to attend so I went my way.

<later>
Back from my balcony. It's really cold and pouring down, thank god for the roof. Sparklehorse, Eyepennies. The air smells beautiful.
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if you want it

350.org

2010 is the year that America and the World decides our destiny is not tied to the suicide mission of the oil companies and the notion of limitless growth. it's over. happy christmas war is over. if you want it.
this website is organised by Bill McKibben. the perfect person for the job.
Thom
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Ghost?

Another sleep episode. Woke up the around 11 am (read 'middle of the night' for daysleepers like me) because a voice quite distinctively said "Rikshaw". Checked my associative range, came up with nothing. The voice sounded neither male nor female, or both.
Explanation 1: It was me talking in my sleep, dreaming of China. Just that I usually remember my dreams, particularly shortly after waking up.
Explanation 2: Someone in the spirit world got really lost and needed a lift. 'Really lost' in this case meaning not only wrong dimension but also wrong continent.
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¡Tocata

Mañana Inside tocando por el día del alumno en nuestro Colegio Ingles Woodland.

Los temas son: cancion para mañana- la culpa (los bunkers), Crimen- Ahi vamos (Gustavo Cerati), He barrido el sol- Los Tres (Los tres). Deseando a todos los pinguinos un buen día del alumno mañana y que lo pasen ¡la raja! :)

(Foto USS)

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Whirlwinding mind

Dreamt of tornadoes today, first only a turn and flutter, then suddenly huge black vortexes tearing across the landscape while I stand mesmerized, paralyzed. Not thinking about danger, not scared. Just utterly fascinated, watching trees get ripped from their firm ground, whole strips of forestry rising in a beautiful circling dance. Deafening rumble, deep and low like a rock slide in a huge cave. I didn't think I could dream noises like that.
Woke up exhilarated and full of energy.
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braindead airwaves.

.a caustic floral arrangement in black and white synthesized sky and ambient light . im drilling into a subconscious stupor . daydreaming at night of popular tremors . ill vacuum out the innocuous blood cells before construction begins fueling inanimate objects into abomination . falling choruses devise a televised demise in reversed verses i am mechanized . brain death is always on the air . [O_O]
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BP again

maaan
shouldn't BP be held criminally responsible for the oil slick?
shouldn't the heads of BP be held to account?
this is not just a accident. this is a terrible crime.
record profits? nice.
Link
Thom
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hundred dolla winna

an open market tripoli.
angled & sorry
a loaded & lonely
corpse on a string.
i dreamt in violet
unpleasant things.
most of the screaming
eviscerate kindling
spineless and unknown
squealing meat roasting
carved off familiar bones.
we'll make the black flies
look like angels of light.
you'll learn to eat the handicapped
you'll learn to eat your kids.
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