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Galbedir

Galbedir

has a serious attitude(problem).

Rauhallista joulua... ei.Keskiviikko 23.12.2009 18:12

Sinne meni nekin joulunpyhät, päin helevettiä. Alavus...

Tää on sitten viimeinen tour tänä vuonna! Tai... kassellaan sitä uutta vuotta.


Haudan takana näköjään voi vasta rauhoittua.

Where good girls go to die.Maanantai 21.12.2009 19:03

Kuten sanottua: Juhlia voi itsensä verille, hammas halki, tilaan, eksyksiin Helsingin keskustaan, jäihin & ehdottomasti aivan liian pitkään!

Neljä päivää meni fataalisesti yli maksimin, ettei mitään järkeä.

Janita sai niin infernaalisen debytoinnin, ei tässä entisilläkään enää saappaat pysyny jaloissa.


22 tuntia unta putkeen, toimii.

"Hypnoosia!"Perjantai 11.12.2009 18:53




A'vot sie!

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart MakesTorstai 10.12.2009 16:07




A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true

No mikä ettei?Maanantai 07.12.2009 03:05

Nivala???

Happy time, happy time!Torstai 03.12.2009 02:02

Ja siihen vaadittiin hei, - Jägermeister, tottakai. =)

Good mornin' Varissuo!Torstai 26.11.2009 21:52

Loveen langennut olen
ja kuljen kalpeana kuin haamu.



Alleviivaan, Whiskyn synttärit on varmasti vain kerran vuodessa.

Rakkaudella,
Putkiaivo Länsinummesta

Hell yeah.Tiistai 10.11.2009 00:08

Migreeni, suvereeni rakkauteni. <3
All the same take me away
We're dead to the world

The child gave thought to the poet's world
Gave comfort to the Fallen
~Heartfelt, lovelorn~

Remaining, yet still uninvited
Those words scented my soul
~Lonely soul, Ocean soul~




It's not the monsters under your bed
It is the Man next door
That makes you fear, makes you cry,
Makes you cry for the child
All the wars are fought among those lonely men
Unarmed, unscarred

I don't want to die a scarless man
A lonely soul
~Tell me now what to do~

I studied silence to learn the music
I joined the sinful to regain innocence


Heaven queen, cover me
In all that blue
Little boy, such precious joy
Is dead to the world


Heaven queen, carry me
Away from all pain
All the same take me away
We're dead to the world

Dead, silent, constant
Yet always changing
- My favorite view of this world

As he died, he will return to die in me again
Weaving the cloth, giving birth to the Century Child
Who gave his life not for the world but for me
Innocence reborn once more

Walt Whitman - To YouTiistai 13.10.2009 01:01




Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams,
I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and hands,
Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners,
troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,
Your true soul and body appear before me.
They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work,
farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking,
suffering, dying.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem,
I whisper with my lips close to your ear.
I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you.

O I have been dilatory and dumb,
I should have made my way straight to you long ago,
I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing
but you.

I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you,
None has understood you, but I understand you,
None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to yourself,
None but has found you imperfect, I only find no imperfection in you,
None but would subordinate you, I only am he who will never consent
to subordinate you,
I only am he who places over you no master, owner, better, God,
beyond what waits intrinsically in yourself.

Painters have painted their swarming groups and the centre-figure of all,
From the head of the centre-figure spreading a nimbus of gold-color'd light,
But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus
of gold-color'd light,
From my hand from the brain of every man and woman it streams,
effulgently flowing forever.

O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you!
You have not known what you are, you have slumber'd upon yourself
all your life,
Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,
What you have done returns already in mockeries,
(Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in
mockeries, what is their return?)

The mockeries are not you,
Underneath them and within them I see you lurk,
I pursue you where none else has pursued you,
Silence, the desk, the flippant expression, the night, the
accustom'd routine, if these conceal you from others or from
yourself, they do not conceal you from me,
The shaved face, the unsteady eye, the impure complexion, if these
balk others they do not balk me,
The pert apparel, the deform'd attitude, drunkenness, greed,
premature death, all these I part aside.

There is no endowment in man or woman that is not tallied in you,
There is no virtue, no beauty in man or woman, but as good is in you,
No pluck, no endurance in others, but as good is in you,
No pleasure waiting for others, but an equal pleasure waits for you.

As for me, I give nothing to any one except I give the like carefully
to you,
I sing the songs of the glory of none, not God, sooner than I sing
the songs of the glory of you.

Whoever you are! claim your own at any hazard!
These shows of the East and West are tame compared to you,
These immense meadows, these interminable rivers, you are immense
and interminable as they,
These furies, elements, storms, motions of Nature, throes of apparent
dissolution, you are he or she who is master or mistress over them,
Master or mistress in your own right over Nature, elements, pain,
passion, dissolution.

The hopples fall from your ankles, you find an unfailing sufficiency,
Old or young, male or female, rude, low, rejected by the rest,
whatever you are promulges itself,
Through birth, life, death, burial, the means are provided, nothing
is scanted,
Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what you are
picks its way.