No subject

[integer at www.god-emil.dk]

>With a men, yuo idiot!
>
>Of my age, actually a BIT YOUNGER.
>
>I AM MAD AT YOU . IHATE YOU
>
>I 'VE SPENT THE DINNER TAKING IN FRANC , FINALLY , AND I MUST ADMIT IS STILL
>VERY GOOD.
>
>WHY WEREN'T YOU WITH ME
>YOU ASSHOLL.
>
>I I WERE YOU I WOULD HAVE DONE THE BEST TO MAKE ME HAVE NEXT TO YOU STUPID ,
>LOVINGLY MAN.
>. CAN YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM TRYING TO MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND?
>
>I want you and you don't won't want me.
>
>If I were you I would have invent everything to have me next to you.
>STUPIDDDDDDDD!
>I LOVE YOU .
>CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND?
>
>If you want me you should doing miracles.
>Too many games.
>I love you stupid.
>Can't you understand that it happens once or twice in life?
>
>    (I'm a bit , quire bit tipsy) 



So, you thought you were better than some peasant ost.europa 2x growing vegetables in a small garden,
unknown to your world, systematically beaten into the ground by your simply "bullshit" neo fascist governments.
But you see, no ost.europa woman would crawl. Too proud, too simply.superior 
to your weak pathetic 0 faith drunken egoistic modern components.

I wouldn't waste my saliva on your simply.inferior self nor the meaningless "bullshit" you represent




>I LOVE YOU 

We do not exist. Your world buried us alive ... forever
This is the soft song ... singing wounds within you
burying you alive ... suffocating you. taking you down.
taking you out. where we are ...



WE JUST WANT YOU TO BE BEAUTIFUL - OCCIDENT MOTHER FUCKERZ










There once was a painter--a brilliant painter,
who mastered the art of replication and the depiction of the beautiful. 
Yet he was lonely, he felt that there was no one alive who 
could understand him, no one capable of perceiving his entire being. 

One morning he wept in his garden, crying to god to send
him someone who might comprehend his full beauty. 
That day, he painted a new canvas, a portrait of an unknown and 
stunningly beautiful woman. When he had finished, he cried to god 
to give her sentience, as this most wondrous painting could be the 
only being in the world who might understand him. To his amazement, the
woman in the painting began to move.


"Hello! Hello!" he cried to her.

"Where are you?" she replied.

"Here, beside you!"    

The woman in the painting looked around her.

"Are you up, or down? Across?" she asked.

"No, No", the painter implored, "I am...I am...out!"

"Out? What is _out_?" she replied.

"Out! Out here!"

The woman did not understand him. 
She only knew two dimensions--vertical and horizontal. Her world was that of the flat canvas.
The painter ran out to his garden and threw himself onto the ground.

"God, oh god!" he wept. "Where are you?"

"Out." came the reply.