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The GuideWhen we walk in the city
we keep our eyes on the street
our feet jazz it down
dodging, diving, dividing to avoid
dont ask me what I dont wanna know
Force us to breathe like dogs
With tongues lolling out
Probing the air
Tasting for some freshness
Now breathe IN
This thieves market has a saints name
we call it
because its snazzier, more elegant
so snazzy we could be fucking English
with monocles, and shit
Keep your hands to yourself
Eyes darting side to side
Ignore the calls of
"at your service"
turn a corner,
"whatever you need"
quickly now T W I S T toavoidthatfatlady
Put on your snobbish
pick up, turn over, put down
ignore ignore the stall owner
do not move your hands
to your pocket
All Quiet EssayThe Screaming Rift
The last page of Remarques All Quiet on the Western Front read that [the] day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: All quiet on the Western Front (Remarque 296). The incessant screaming in the millions of minds of the ruined soldiers from World War I was not heard, and did not echo through the trenches like the pitiful whine of a dying horse. But it was there. In each mind the Scream was different; it was the hiss of gas bombs, the shriek of falling shells, or the gurgling moan of their dying comrades. This Scream, unlike the short shriek of a human, did not run out of breath. Instead it was continuous, and carried itself into the lives of the soldiers even after the war ended. Soldiers know when it began for them, though if you ask them when it will end your only answer would be the silence that is absent inside of them. On the first page of the book Remarque states that he wri
Cuando los angeles lloran...My grandfather died today. We found out because my dad called us while me and my sisters and my mother were at the park after going to starbucks.
Right now I'm at the computer. My father told my sisters to turn the television off, snapped at them. Asked them how they could look at crappy television when his father had just died. Sat down, and started talking about him.
"He was so proud of me."
"My father said he was very proud of me..."
"I'm proud of you, Lina. You know that? I'm proud of you."
He holds me close and I breath in his smell.
"Call your cousins, Lina."
I don't want to talk to them now. I hate crying.
I pick the card up. Well... nothing to it.
"Hello this is the operator, whom shall I call?"
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More