Thursday, March 3, 2011

Gums Bone Chips Painful

Listens


'Give ear, my God, listen' is the phrase that is painted on the wall of the room where I slept last night. I'm Jeremy, a city south of the country, the city of poets. That of Alexander Dumas (the father) or Etzer Vilaire. Having toured the hotel, we found a room at the 'Catholic mission. " Superficially clean and minimalist comfort. I do this kind of nuance since we confirmed my allergies to dust mites. After a cold shower down the hallway, my nose took a good ten minutes to violently expel the dust accumulated during the night. The electricity left me around 23:00 and then ended what was circulating air in the room. The room turned into a sauna. Inspired by the writing on the wall, mosquitoes have asked me all night to listen. The most important thing is that I need to listen a second night ...

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Chlamydia And The Mouth

The No. 8


Sunday at Jacmel, Martelly went into the crowd. Surrounded by bodyguards orde, and another amateur. People were already talking about the President. Not the konpa, but the President, true. To remain in the truth, say that c is as if we did not campaign so the new President appears alone on the track. Cetout is completely appalled that this popularity of this non-campaign, this non-debate. A form of populism Haitian obsession with everything he could hang like disaster.
- It's simple, you take the proportion of illiterate and you have the outcome of the forthcoming presidential elections. Between 60 and 70% of the population is illiterate, so you get the proportion of people who will vote for Martelly.
- Do not you think that your calculation is a bit simplistic ... You talk about populism, but you pour into demagoguery, ... say, 'intellectual'? I know even when 'scholars' who want to support Martelly. They are perhaps not the majority, but still!
- I know ... But I confess that I just want to leave my country by imagining that Tet kale will become our next president. I do not really care he showed his buttocks or vulgar in its shows. His morality does not bother me at all. I just see what it refers to the collective imagination, the messianism that carries this incompetence démogagiquement it transforms into force, while the new discourse not breathing nothing innovative ... I tell you it depresses me. After Aristide-Preval decadence, we're going to have a Duvalier was elected this time! I do not see us moving forward. Those who became rich during the last 50 years will be able to continue to do so, for the vast majority will have to wait. Do two minutes to social development, a fairer distribution of wealth, development of a competent civil service, a parliamentary politics or that makes sense, education or health for all, nothing in the speech Martelly of his friends and did not match the vision of our countries. It kills me right, populism, he cut me off.
- The issue actually is that we not hear much about its competitor? As if there was no campaign.
- is the other end of my depression. I would vote for that if I wanted to vote against Martelly? For now, I'm not sure which campaign Manigat leads you almost feel it already conceded defeat!
- The No. 8 will win?
- The No. 68 is not even in the race!

How To Restore A Rosewood Table

impression sunrise

In those moments of tissue paper that I feel alive. Moments of vanilla, baby milk, honey. It is in these precious moments of amber and salt than a thousand colors plunge in the veins, contradictory feelings, feelings diffuse and overwhelming. Bees hum in the ears, the songs of robins, small trails in the hill full of smells and suddenly a unique discovery of the sea A sea flat as a lake, picked up an attitude, ready to pounce like a cat discretion of the surf on the sandy white beach. A stormy sky-blue gray, and light rays passing through the thin and golden moss nuages.Se feel alive is This punch somewhere below the navel, exactly where it all starts. A wave, a wave of fire Catalan. A huge force fills me, I am become all the blades and all the sunsets. I could sit still for days to dream about this flight of seagulls, and parillada and mild tingling of the bells in the morning. With an irrepressible desire to die, then struck down by so much beauty and elegance of the obvious fate.