приснилось что очередная псевдо-фашисткая оккупация неожиданно оборвалась на том, что на экране компьютера высветилось сообщение к главному извергу:

"Honey, you're an iLiar" - и оказалось что это все очередная айМаковская шутка.

zak was right as always.

an absolutely perfect soul/r&b/whatevah the right acronym is, that i've been searching for forever.

if one divides the world, the cirle that it is into 2 halves: one filled with all the good things that we have created, made up, came up with, realized and the bad...

on the good side:

Бильгя...

unbelievable.

у меня под окнами детский сад. как зовут одного из мальчиков, я точно не знаю, но до моего 5го этажа доходит это все приблизительно следующим образом ( Read more... )

the condition he sets before saying "hello", is let's be closed. you'll be closed and i'll be closed. and let's just wait and see who'll outclose each other.

hence the game carries on.

for some reason most of the "thinking" these days gets done on the subway, the number 6 train to be exact. i imagine it's the new yorker's version of a toilet.

i do so adore not getting enough sleep. once the initial horror of keeping one's eyes open and having to move about is over, the beautiful haze settles in and the rest of the day one need not be consicous.

this slowness of inner reaction and dullness of perception makes everything fall into it's one and only perfect place.

the gas next to me on the subway kept expanding and taking up every inch of space all the way between union square and brooklyn bridge. the time between astor and spring was spent dilligently polishing her reading glasses, a little later she produced a magazine out of her sizable bag ( Read more... )

could the answer to "not a woman"(3), really be a "man"?