Wher I Can Buy Doll In Ottawa

I lay in bed, face down, staring into space. The tattooist
up the jeans, then I feel that my shaves and prepares his instrument. I see nothing, I can only be based on hearing and touch. After a while
'incomprehensible noise starts.
Offhand I think "Okay, it does not so bad, worse than I thought." But then he begins to draw the lines of the outline and it looks like you cut me. I'm not saying that did badly, but it was the feeling that gave me a cutting. The pain varies from point to point. Absolutely the outside of the calf was the most critical. If I then describe the feeling it gave me when filled with color lines I would say that it seemed as if dug into the flesh. I know it's exaggerated and in fact was not so bad, but that was the feeling. Nesssuno Not that I've ever dug into the flesh to tell the truth.
Having to make an estimate of the overall I would say though that pain was excruciating. I realize that a person can suffer physically much more for things more serious, but anyway it was quite atrocious.
But I was happy.
E 'extr was cathartic.
feel that all the pain I try to become something physical, and somehow comes out of you is priceless ... and to make matters worse you feel free to channel all the pain, hatred and resentment, grouped yes, and throw them away, those who rail against the pain he has caused.
I give you a pain, what more could you want from life?
The tattoo is two years, two years that I have changed a lot, so you do not recognize me anymore. In this tattoo for me is everything, good and evil tried done at once. The errors that I do not want to commit. My passions (NIN in the first place, of course).

But above the center is a great emptiness, what you have left you.

Can I Use Vaseline As Lube To Masterbate?

"Grenda The Notebook" - Agota Kristof

(from "Trilogy of the city of K.")


Small cubes from sharp edges and sharp, made of stone harder than there is in the world, all tossed with cruelty you care. Fast punching speed and power unleashed a brutal violence brutal.
Here is what I bring to mind the very short chapters of "The Great Notebook", the first part of the trilogy Agota Kristof.
's the story with twins during an unspecified war (the WW2?) are left over from mother to grandmother's house cattivssima who lives in a Small Town (also unspecified) of the field, in the big city can no longer stay, the fall bombs. The twins (one indivisible whole, the fact stressed by the absence of individual names) face a cruel reality of any perverse fantasy. But is war. And then everything is justified, or at least understand.

horrifying, shocking, cool, explosive and fundamentally evil.

on the advice of those who do not remember (Edo?) I threw myself into reading this book and I can only thank you for the suggestion.

My Lovebird Are Mating

How We Are Hungry

More than two months that I do not write anything. At least here. I can not share what I think in a piecemeal way. One of the reasons why this is happening is that the world seems ever more distant from each other made of atoms.
It 's like all of us for me now is not a world unto itself, independent and impenetrable. Unknowable. Unattainable. And 'the crisis of communication, is the purpose of sharing.
We are small creatures, dirty bodies riddled with bullets that do not give up as a zombie to death trying to fill the holes in every possible way. We're hungry, we are nothing but holes to feed. Everything we do is not that an instinct to be fed with something else, whether a feeling or a carcass does not make any difference. Slowly we caliamo more in this section (because it is only a part of it) and we are convinced that it is the reality. We're dying inside, all of our true instincts repressed and suppressed.
No wait, we are not to be so.
I am.
you do not know how you are,
and frankly I do not give a shit.