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Thursday, September 19, 2013. The figures were lopsided and held at some unnatural angle with invisible string. Their longing for each other was evident in their eyes, their posture, and their open lips. The paint was deep and without err each stroke made with purpose and understanding. It was titled The Garden at Noon. And held no apologies for its anonymous author, and missing era. The more time that past, the more summer nights she thought, the idea of .

A smooth sea never made for a skilled sailor. I literally have no idea what im gonna do if i dont end up rich. I need someone who will sit on a rooftop with me at 2 in the morning and will tell me their favorite songs and their family problems and how they think the earth was made. It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply.

If everything went right all the time, how could we laugh at the stuff that went wrong? Thursday, August 7, 2008. Be very careful about your prescriptions. Clinched to a 7 foot security BT. Loosing track of your name, location, and all 5 senses. And then floating into the wellness center via a magic carpet.

Sâmbătă, 14 septembrie 2013. Revin in blogosfera cu un articol diferit de cele scrise pana acum. In fiecare luna observ ca exista o anumita frica, poate chiar repulsie fata de a 13-a zi a lunii. Daca se intampla ca aceasta zi sa fie intr-o zi de vineri, sentimentul se accentueaza. In ciuda acestor aspecte, 13 Septembrie a fost o zi minunata pentru mine. Pentru Mihai Albu, creatiile lui nu sunt o afacere, ci p.