Thursday, April 29, 2010

Clubnintendo Coin Hack




figure .

( Del b. lat. figure , eastern ar. Hisp. Sifre, and this of ar. clas. sifr, void).

1. f. digit number.

2. f. sign used to represent this number.

3. f. used Scripture signs, figures or conventional letters, and can only be understood by knowing the key .


may all be figure: the tides and lunar cycles, the vibration of water on a homeopathic granule, the genome of the frog Xenopus, Valente, nerves in the leaves of a common ficus . Everything. So I do not understand how we got here, how we could be wrong, therefore, how we managed to destroy the simple, the beauty of numbers, simple sewing afternoon light. The stillness of the night, the exact shape of the closed days on two hands together over a cup of tea. This afternoon just want to understand everything, to see the naked figure, looking at the bird made up of letters or codes. Nothing more. To stop our correspondence insane made of binary code. Stop to start again and better. Closer elsewhere. I do not know but this afternoon appears mostly in the form of figure and just makes you want to leave nothing but the array of things to keep it simple and restart there. If you still can.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Renewing Bc Drivers License Non Resident

Voie 5


've come to your house,
and now, you'd want know what it is sitting,
what it is sitting like a shipwrecked
in your everyday things poor
L. Rosales

miles
We have no center. We both know that the flight, walk the dunes to escape, remove the batteries to all the clocks, I do not know why that compulsive mania batteries take all watches and ride to the border to escape or to stop at service stations hot lunch and then stay asleep in the rain and exhausted flight. Do not know why there is always that kid that follows us, but we are very into the dunes, dirt bikes and groundings, are the child of trains and parks, I know you also hear play, which is almost always the same, though it changes form, and we remain in the streets and in the woods while I teach the steps of the deer, the roots bites and poisonous mushrooms that smell and recognize. I do not know what has to be that child forever. Suddenly I seem to be getting away from something, I write in the blue notebook and I'm standing near the window. You do not smoke. Close your eyes. I wonder if it rains.