Diffeerente
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Un Blog Diffeerent des autres que j'ai fait... Pour exposer mes oeuvres d'art numérique. Pour des photos ect
Marie spo un ange certain:P
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# Posté le dimanche 17 décembre 2006 15:49
The Dark Monks
Model Ary pis la femme a barbe XD
Pix by Me
Pix by Me
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# Posté le samedi 16 décembre 2006 12:15
The Center Of The World-Bright Eyes
At the center of the world there is a statue of a girl.
She is standing near a well with a bucket bare and dry.
I went and looked her in the eye and she turned me into sand.
This clumsy form that I despise it scattered easy in her hand.
And came to rest upon a beach,
with a million others there.
We sat and waited for the sea to stretch out,
so that we could disappear into the endlessness of blue,
into the horror of the truth.
You see, we are far less than we knew.
Yeah, we are far less than we knew,
but we knew what we could taste.
Girls found honey to drench our hands.
Men cut marble to mark our graves.
Said we'll need something to remind us of
all the sweetness that has passed through us.
(fresh sangria and lemon tea).
The priests dressed children for a choir,
(white-robed small voices praise Him)
but found no joy in what was sung.
The funeral had begun.
In the middle of the day,
when you drive home to your place from that job that makes you sleep,
back to the thoughts that keep you awake long after
night has come to claim any light that still remains.
In the corner of the frame that you put around her face.
Two pills just weren't enough.
The alarm clock is going off,
but you are not waking up.
This isn't happening, happening, happening, happening, happening. It is.
She is standing near a well with a bucket bare and dry.
I went and looked her in the eye and she turned me into sand.
This clumsy form that I despise it scattered easy in her hand.
And came to rest upon a beach,
with a million others there.
We sat and waited for the sea to stretch out,
so that we could disappear into the endlessness of blue,
into the horror of the truth.
You see, we are far less than we knew.
Yeah, we are far less than we knew,
but we knew what we could taste.
Girls found honey to drench our hands.
Men cut marble to mark our graves.
Said we'll need something to remind us of
all the sweetness that has passed through us.
(fresh sangria and lemon tea).
The priests dressed children for a choir,
(white-robed small voices praise Him)
but found no joy in what was sung.
The funeral had begun.
In the middle of the day,
when you drive home to your place from that job that makes you sleep,
back to the thoughts that keep you awake long after
night has come to claim any light that still remains.
In the corner of the frame that you put around her face.
Two pills just weren't enough.
The alarm clock is going off,
but you are not waking up.
This isn't happening, happening, happening, happening, happening. It is.
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# Posté le mercredi 13 décembre 2006 12:02
La photo dla tite gang de lundi soir
Gab ya trop de grand pied...-.-
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# Posté le mardi 12 décembre 2006 09:51
C a ki sté pied la XD?
Devinez sta ki c pied la pis jvous donne 2$:P
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# Posté le mardi 12 décembre 2006 09:48
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