Pain In Right Teticle When Bend Over

you save the life

From "Dada Manifesto of 1918, Tristan Tzara:


" To launch a manifesto will need: A, B, C, hurling invectives against 1, 2, 3, excited and sharpen the wings to conquer and spread large and small a, b, c, sign, shout, curse, give emphasis to the prose of obviousness absolute, irrefutable, demonstrating its non-plus-ultra and support that novelty resembles life as much as the last appearance of a cocotte demonstrates the essence of God
write a manifesto and I want nothing, yet I say certain things, and are in principle against the posters, as indeed they are against principles (measuring scoop for the moral value of any sentence). I write this manifesto to show that you can make contradictory actions simultaneously in a single breath refrigerant; are against the action, and also continuous for the contradiction to the statement are neither in favor nor against and I do not give good explanations why I hate sense.
DADA does not mean anything. If it is justified
futile and does not want to waste time for a word that means nothing. The first thought that buzzes in these brains is of a bacteriological: find the etymology, history, or at least psychological. He learns from the newspapers that the Kru Negroes call the tail of a sacred cow DADA. The cube and the mother does not know what the Italian region: DADA. The rocking horse, the nurse, two sides of the Russian and Rumanian: Dada. Some learned journalists see it an art for babies, for latria gurus, the current version of Gesùcheparlaaifanciulli, is a return to primitivism arid and boisterous, noisy and monotonous. You can not build all the sensitivity about a word, every building in the perfection that converges bored, stagnant idea of \u200b\u200ba golden swamp, on the human product. The work
Art should not be the beauty that is dead. A work of art is never good to decree, objectively, unanimously. The criticism is useless, there can exist only subjectively, each his own, and without any sense of universality. You may believe they have found a psychic basis common to all mankind? How can one order in the chaos of this entity shall inform infinitely variable: the man? I always talk to me because I will not convince anyone, I have no right to drag others in my current, do not force anyone to follow me and each one makes art that he likes.
Thus DADA was born from a need for independence. Those who depend on us are free. We do not rely on any theory. We have had enough of the cubist and futurist academies: laboratories of formal ideas: Maybe the art is done for money and smooth the hair of our dear bourgeois? The rhymes are the sound of coins. The pace and follows the rhythm of the stomach in profile.
All groups of artists have gone to the bank, riding different comets. An open door has the opportunity to bask in the warmth of the pillows and the food. The new painter creates a world whose elements are its own resources, a work sober and precise, without an object. The new artist rebels: he does not paint more (symbolic and illusionistic reproduction) but creates directly with stone, wood, iron, tin, rocks, organisms, locomotives that can turn on all sides, according to the limpid wind of the sensation of the moment.
Any pictorial or plastic work is unnecessary, at least that is a monster capable of frightening the spirits of slaves, and the decoration of the dining halls mawkish animal disguised as men, pictures of the sordid tale of humanity. A painting is the art of making meet two lines, parallel to the geometric statement, on a canvas, before our eyes, according to the reality of a world based on other conditions and possibilities. This world is not specified, nor defined in the work belongs to its many variations to the viewer.
The Dadaist spontaneity. Art is
a private thing. The artist does it for himself. The artist, poet, appreciates the venom of the mass that condenses in the captain of this industry. And 'happy when you feel insulted as a mark of his inconsistency. We need strong works, direct and imcomprese, once and for all. Logic is a complication. Logic is always false. All men cry out: There is a great job destructive, negative to do: sweep, clean. Without any purpose or project, without organization: the indomitable folly, decomposition. Every product of disgust capable of becoming denial of the family is Dada; protest with his fists to his entire being strained destructive action: Dada; taken of conscience of all the means so far suppressed by prudish sense of comfortable compromise and good manners: DADA; abolition of logic, the makeup of the powerless creation: DADA; of every social hierarchy and equation of values \u200b\u200bdetermined by the servants who hang out with us : DADA; every object, all objects, feelings, and the oxen, the apparitions and the clash of parallel lines are clear weapons for the fight: Dada; abolition of memory: DADA; abolition of archeology: DADA; abolition of prophets: DADA; abolition of the future: DADA; absolute faith that God is irrefutable allover the immediate product of spontaneity: DADA. "

Can I Get Toxoplasmosis More Than Once

Test (those that I love them, unfortunately) about mental disorders.

Well, I did this test. Judge you. They say I should worry about the fact that I have a serious principle of schizophrenia, having scored more than 35% in this field.

short, I took the test from here: http://www.okcupid.com/tests/6479888277260946846/What-is-your-mental-disease

And I say this:

You scored 38 Schizophreny, 29 Bipolarism, 5 Hysteria, Neurosis and 26!

That's all folks! We will now analyze the results. It's normal to Have a percentage in all pathologies, Each human being cumulates Various Symptoms, coming from Various pathologies, it's not the problem. Consider yourself okay and balanced if you got 20-25% in all prototype. When you get comes Problems +35% in one prototype , it seems that you got enough symptoms to consider yourself on the edge of the razor in your prototype. When +45% in one prototype , you are clinically sick. When +60% in one prototype , you truly suffer and your life is obstructed by the disease +70% is characteristic of the madness. What is : NEUROSIS : Neurosis is a complex and polymorph disease , it can be a social chronic phobia (agoraphobia) or not, a general anxiety, a too pronounced melancholy, hypocondria or obsession. It's the most current disease , most representative is the nervous breakdown. it is the least serious of mental pathologies NEUROTIC IN HISTORY : Le n? ( agoraphobia ) , Voltaire ( melancholy ) , Manzoni ( Obsession ) , Kafka , Malraux , Zola ( Phobia ) HYSTERIA : Hysteria is much more widespread among women, it gathers paranoia, the psycho-somatism. An exaggerated authority and a bad image of the world and the human is a big symptom. Psycho-somatic hysteria is the least serious of the forms of hysteria. HYSTERICAL PERSONALITIES : Dante ( paranoia ) , Rousseau ( megalomanie ) , Schopenhauer ( somatism ) BIPOLARISM : The bipolarism is characterized by two phases, the maniac phase and the depressive phase. During the maniac phase, the patient is hyperactive , during the depressive phase ,the person is under a very big depression. Cyclothimy is a form a bipolarism. This disease is serious, and the patients arent truly cured BIPOLAR PERSONALITIES : Musset , G鲡rd de Nerval SCHIZOPHRENY : It is a chronic and evolutionary pathology , consequences are a deterioration of reality and cognitive disorders , schizophrens note auditive and visual hallucinations most of the time , the unfolding of personality is almost systematic , and their acts are dictated by an impression, a voice, a vision, generally divine. This disease is the most serious and cant be totaly cured. When the work of bad is completed, the patient is completely apart from reality. Schizophren arent always violent. FAMOUS SCHIZOPHREN: Julius Cesar , Goethe

Link: The What is your mental disease Test written by meloon on OkCupid , home of the The Dating Persona Test

Usufruitene all! And that paranoia is with you!

Letter For Lohri Invitation

Ne 'and fear' delirium

"I'm at the bar."
I am just out of the bathroom where two gay designers I know I have just said that purple / green oil (the colors of my scarf and my coat) go great together, plus I wash my pantyhose while you reduce them and someone is proclaimed to my bodyguard while I was in the bathroom, I went outside, he was gone. For a few seconds I scan the crowd to capture the face that may have said, but then I think I'm overstating my intuition. Of course, all this orbiting
to my skull, every word is a satellite. So what I say on the phone is simply: "Ok."
Then I think: "On the balcony? Where is this place has a balcony?".
later to find him.
"There is a balcony, if anything, a counter" I think after some time.

When you spend the evening surrounded by people you can not help but feel somewhat protected, or anesthetized, because you know you're just, you know that at least the will or the non-desire of the people around you is comparable to your nonvoglia want to be-in the same place. When the people you know starting coming in from different places and you find yourself more or less alone in the middle faces you know only by sight (those with which it is more difficult to interact, whereas there are also familiar faces (including familiar faces too much or too little) and I do not know (including faces and you'd like to meet ), this is traumatic.
I managed to awaken from the coma ethyl naming a boy my French teacher, then I took a martial arts film, of which the pictures are running too fast on the big screen. I know if I love or hate the fact that what you see on screen is not never what you hear on the premises.
After a while I bundled I grabbed the beer, there are types of reliable lead us out of there, that driving has horrible taste in music, I do not know if I want or not want to be there, are the height of cynicism, tonight. I do not have the card in the room where we are going, I have no money to pay for it, should I stay outside, no one gives anything, all the people who could give a damn about no more. Eventually I do get the same, maybe just because I have a voice and eyes and wearing of the mature Mary Jane. I do not change much, I would have gone, I do not know why I'm entering, in fact I'd rather be out listening to two law graduates are facing in rather colorful tones. Within, inside there is something similar to reggae, that certainly does not suck the reggae, so I lean against the wall to fix the macho homophobic bastards who are putting the disc, repeat the reggae and it sucks that you can not I find myself thinking that reggae sucks later on Saturday evening in a local or should I be doing more, or to dance. Perhaps the problem lies in the fact that I, on Saturday night, I'm thinking. Meanwhile, a girl is making me a deluge of photos, I leave and I do not even turn towards the goal, I'm sorry, I think when we see something and would like to have a machine at all costs to photograph it, but then that something subitissimo vanishes. Tonight this something for the girl I am, so I can not can not can not move. I remain motionless. I hope it has made a number of those photos that highlight what I have the potential to be a French girl sad. Esco
later, I go by in the meantime get people I know, dance, scream nasty things in the middle of the track, all more or less running around the fact that reggae music sucks and that Rastafarianism is anti-democratic. Oh well, it's a religion. However bad.

In bed, they decide to catapult me \u200b\u200bin funny places. The bed accelerates along with the capsule / spaceship / room, continue to pour into a vortex that part of my left pupil and then extend my field of vision in all shades of blue. In addition there is the sound continuing with an alarm that makes me feel more alert, probably because, in front of me, there is a mannequin with the head of a cat and, beside him, a giant portrait of the muzzle of a cat. I feel a fear for cats that I have always misunderstood. The chandelier spins like a siren, so I understand that the alarm comes from there. I can not sleep, everything is so beautiful compared to the rest ...!

Groping Train In Japan

Hello, I'm Paperollo, I know all about you and if you want I can also tell

or "How to fuck your conscience";
or "I would love if you came all this way in a line, to read in one breath;
therefore (read all in one breath):" Ciaosonopaperolloconoscotuttoditeesevuoipossoancheraccontartelo ".


"Hello, I'm Paperollo, I know all about you and if you want I can tell."
"Hello Paperollo ideas ... but ... where?".
"What a question! I've just seen sticking out of his coat pocket Marco ... Where are you sticking?"
"Ehr ... Like ... I do not know ...".
"The fact that you do not believe what you see is symptomatic of the way you live, my dear ...".
"...".
"What is that face questioning? You know very well that often deny the evidence in the face of reality to focus on very different reality ...".
"...".
"I've already said I know everything about you ...".
"Paperollo, what you know."
"Everything. I know you like find imaginative syllogisms to demonstrate the non-existence of god and who has a fascination for excessive puppeteers and butlers
...". "O Christ!".
"Want to know something more?".
"enough."
"I do not want to know something more?".
... Sure ... We ask
...". "What?".
"I ask
..."." From the talks. "
" I ask ... What am I doing right now? ".
" Uhm ... I put to the test? ".
" Come on, what I'm doing right now? ".
" Ehr ... I ... I do not know ... One could say that you are writing your meeting with Paperollo that is telling you that knows everything about you and if you like, can also tell you about ...".
"Well, that letter I'm writing right now?".
"I do not know ... .. You are writing exactly what I'm saying at the precise moment when I'm saying."
"Ok, but if I wanted a short and concise? Type, in fact, that letter of the alphabet I'm writing right now?".
"Oh shit! Type, you have just finished writing" Oh shit. "Type, now you have just finished writing you have just finished writing" Oh shit! ".
Shit, this is not ... You're writing
you're writing.'re writing you're writing you're writing ... Fuck!
Now type S, but changes immediately and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH letter. "

"fuck."

Broken Hymen Bleeding Hotfile

"Everyone has something to say," or "A thousand possibilities of verbal and para-," or "All my friends are superheroes. "

Or excerpts of conversations actually took place modified to make them more immediate.


Luca (voice set (her) and make very serious). "You know, at first I was undecided whether to do theater or swimming, but then I thought that the theater does not have the physical ...".

Me: "What happened after I went back home?".
Jade, quite accidentally, hunting out of the bag by a short primer encrusted with green inside with a lighter and a pencil, then turns in profile and one can see on the cheek of those who put a stamp on your hands when you've already paid the entry into a room.

Elisa ruffles hair the all fall before my eyes.
Me: "Uh, you look like a model in the factory of Andy Warhol."
witty person sitting at the table next to ours: "Hey Look!" Lady Oscar ".

Fabio: "And then, in the end I was stuck and I had to do a goddamn card dell'Euroclub.
Me: "But why?".
Fabio: "Well, you know, I was stoned."
Me "...".
Fabio: "Yes, I did not understand anything ..."
Me: "...".
Fabio: "Yes, I plugged the ears ...".
Me: "By chance the" promoter "was nice?".
Fabio: "Eh.
type.
She was pretty."

person whose name I will not say emitting lines subhuman "FederIiIicooO ... I do not know ... ... Beeemboooouu chiùùùùùùùù !!!".

Paola tries to unscrew the head. Really.

Someone: "What are you reading?".
Me: "Uh, nothing ... Delusions of Young Werther ...".

Table List Template Wedding

For now, this story is titled "The story of the bathroom." We accept suggestions.

View from so high, incorrupt and his skin is speckled with some charmingly neo beige, with a pale and sad marriage, certainly a bit 'insane. Her hair is long blacks and up to where I can not understand, and end with no artificial curls, but spontaneously perfect. Lean, very lean, even in broad gestures, but not broken, soft purple apparel, attitude and hard for this so the male and female. Soaked in his fresh loneliness seems to know how good disentangling of the intricacies of his empty days and complicated, and it always presents itself. Strange, usually in pairs, girls. She was as faithful companions only the cigarettes that do not very often sfumacchia maliciously, inhaling the smoke out the window with a hint of malice, as if they derive some sadistic satisfaction to deliver his lungs from smoke unhealthy to donate a small pink poison the rest of the world. Perhaps the way it communicates with the world can not but be destructive. Perhaps it should remain quiet, alone, perhaps not utter a word, wrapped her in cotton wool apathy. Who knows that sub-genres of music. In my law Banana Yoshimoto, without talking in glowing terms, but the law and enjoy his writing is simple and sews him a world of its size.

How many people enter the bathroom of a high school, on average, per day? Do you mind? How neurotic laughter of young girls, the smoke, shouting as post-questioning? Too. Crazy. Also because the chatter is often futile and annoying and distracts me from it. I shut myself away to think, but since all I hear is always just useless chatter, and I can smell is nothing but the stench of excrement or emphysema or tubes anxiolytic pro-flowers chemical disinfectants, and what I can see are as a teenager used panties or thongs most daring, the fact of distraction is to think about what you or I were to emerge in front of hearing, smell, sight. My life is a real bore. Romulus, My
her. She did that inspires desire to rise up out of piercing the substrate material, to interact with his lips often stained red.
The light in here, is blinding, uniform, unlike the vibrant, clear. And it's white, so white that everything that comes out against it as the design of an infant on a piece of asylum and the edges are retouched with trattopen. Everything is in here was the first cut, and then infilatovi force. He tried frantically to find its natural habitat, but the walls unsustainable, so solid, they have locked up, made him impatient with too light, too much truth, without too much of those nuances typical of the designs generated by the mastery of a skilled hand and no longer a child. Nothing in here, it seems. Everything is in here.
Too much light pierces the eyes, something that is too much truth from the heart. For this all, sooner or later, they return to their classes to go over the math lesson, in all their squittente feminine pink.

you do not.

She stands in the bathroom for long minutes, regardless. He does not speak, still leaning against the wall. In the hours of supply, decided not to return to class, directly. Probably tells her friends to lie and say that it is actually absent. And not afraid of light, hardly feel the need to blink. His watchful eye quivers, sparkles, white challenge. Defies reality.
sometimes nostalgically, with no particular reason and in order not to know what, I find myself thinking that it will not escape alive. I really do not succeed.

What I feel, in general, are hands. Hands of girl that I wanted and I demand that the rot that have gates that have poured in and out, pushing hands vehemently my eye inside my eyelid, almost ashamed of the fact that someone from above is the spying. But my eye back in his old place, alert, mischievous, yes, I admit, always ready to transform the pretty faces that are reflected. No one is satisfied, when viewed from its image in my eye, all covered in class with sullen expression under the layer of a thousand other expressions that require the day, and that expression disturbs and adds a piece to the puzzle grayish paton of their morning. Sometimes you do not lose them, the most obnoxious and pretentious. Sometimes I pretend to break, so they can not see the mold that slides down in the body that lead away from them.

One day something strange happens. She breaks in and takes a guy in and closes the door behind him furious. He does not understand, it seems that I had never known or even view, with eyes wide open not too much, perhaps because he believes what's going on not only surprising but also paradoxical and therefore ironic. With a smile
suspended, a cunning naivete that betrays so hidden in the green of his eyes, he stammered: "Hey hey hey, just tell me that your intentions ...." Ready to surrender.
She is still at the door and block any escape route, he still seems determined not to undertake. Then, more gentle, less stiff, and looks at him tenderly says, "Please listen listen listen listen a moment." Repeats "listen" with four times the exact same tone of voice, no echo, perhaps a recording jam, definitely a bit 'whiny.
"What?" He asks, in part irritated.
"I ... I ... I wanted to talk to you, here, here, I wanted to tell you that you should know me, you know? We'd be really good together, really. I know you, in part. Ehiehiehi, do not panic, not that I'm obsessive or anything, just that often eavesdrop on your discussions and also stupidly male ehiehiehi your voice ... I'm not made me the AFFRI of others, but it is as if the affairs of other me the wind takes them, you know, I probably attracted the affairs of others, I always come to know them ... but perhaps I digress, and this looks a moment at the bottom and nibbles adorable smile than it seems at the moment, perhaps-I say you know, that is, I know you've had the model Chuck Taylor All Stars, you've had four pairs of red, blue, purple and dark purple, in this exact order ... but I like ... and then I know which way to go back home, wow! Sususu own clothes, and what are you doing up there? Read, eat peanuts, wearing giant headphones and move your head to the beat of music? - Says it all with agitation pervaded by quiet deadpan that makes it settles to the property Instead, swallowing and spitting out the words that seem to have imploded inside not just take a break, break that never comes, as ravenous devouring his own words one by one in a continuous flow-I do not know. I wanted to tell you this. And you ask me why I trapped in the bathroom ... - at this point is that his mischievous smile and for a moment I'm sure you look up to me, so I enjoy for a moment the smile, hoping that a small part of me is giving, and I seal tightly in the museum of my best memories and the title of "wow." Then he returns to fix him, namely his mouth, and always with the shadow of his smile harmoniously ecstatic, she says-in the bathroom ... ... because ... come on ... look ... "and then returns to lay around and his eyes contained the hope is adorned with trailing teen to make him a good impression, but that same glance also contains a hope much larger, universal, say, that I can not given the lack of a better description of my experience of the world el'embambolia puts me through this girl.

"See ... what?" He asks.

"Look how white the light in here."

"So what?".

She comes over to him, brave in his mouth. Moved his mouth when he pronounces the words:

"Do not you think they are intact, petrified, covered with elastic cement? It was impossible to misunderstand a word in here. "

He looks at her. Then decide to laugh in the face.
"Excuse me, please ... I ... I ... I must return to class." Gently, not at all aggressive or upset, moves with stoic indifference.
She remains alone. He lights a cigarette. Another. While she does goes over all statements that his facial muscles allow it. Then he begins to recite rather mnemonically what should be a part of the theater. Then he stares at me. Then again I am angry. You probably will not see me, but look smostrata itself. For the first time in my existence, I would not have the advantage of highlighting the bad people. I wish I had words, body and not just be icy cynicism of metal.
Then he begins to spin me, harpoons me, crush me if I were not only more resistant to every fiber of his body. He wants me off, he wants to get my one eye. His face has no expression in particular, is furious, simply, is the face of a person who wants to seriously engage in what he is doing, as this action may seem empty and meaningless in practice. While dissecting
engages in any mechanism that keeps me anchored to my status as a prisoner, I can not help but think that this girl will keep me perhaps a bit 'in his pockets. Or I hurl out the window with all his might. Maybe you prefer to cook in a cake to be offered a meal that led to the boy in the bathroom, in order to strangle it. In any case, I think, this girl will not notice me is liberating.

Drink Tea While Fasting For Blood Work

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!