Clonazepam Overdose Death

Mapuche Temuco

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1996
" Sometimes the sky is so blue .."
If that's true, sometimes the sky is so blue, because it is always clear but turns to cloud, I love you always blue ... if you look with eyes will see it as it is and now cloudy, if you look with your heart in love even on cloudy days will be blue, but still cloudy now, if you look with your soul, I'm lost, because not only have clouds to me, also lightning .. if you look to the skin, my skin bristles and because it's cold and cloudy sky.
, the sky is not blue, but look at it with all senses, remain so for me, at least on this night for no reason.
remember the time when its color was not color, it was almost transparent and I could see beyond that, I could see the gulls laughing or rather mocking laughter with that awful that they have, but I did not realize that, because the sky was always the more blue for me, and the sea was vain and believed that green was the color .. but I knew that it gave the sky.
remember walking into port at night and the same Gulls continued their hideous laughter, as they do not sleep and laugh at the same time .. but I looked at the sky and kept walking azuliiiiito happy and thought that maybe the seagulls and I could be friends sometime. He came to the dock happy, I feel .. and looked across the river and I realized that a great beacon light reaching to the pine forest that separates the ocean rabid little river imperial .. the great lighthouse was proud of the power of light, but the sky let him believe, I knew everything.
A night I went to the beach, and I remember I was cold, summer was the one in the morning and the evening was arrogant and I was afraid, even the waves seemed lightning .. and Pablo Neruda said that is how the authoritative voice of God when he's angry .. I looked from my bank stone lovers who believed that no one saw .. and then watched the sky was so blue that seems to love it noticed .. because every time I looked, they celebrated with kisses .. I even looked like it did one .. is true, it seems that they wanted both, which embrace only saw a silhouette .. I can imagine what being in love should be something like that fear does not matter, that the cold does not freeze, the thunder of the waves do not scare. .. Well, it seems that they did not know these things.
also remember one evening when I waited the full hour before the River to go swimming, if I like this time, but only lasts 2 hours, I like it because the river is calm and does not move and is warm, as if waiting to cross .. patient is as if waiting for his master the sea, I go to fill it to lives and then return to normal. It was like six in the evening and cross in a vote of a fisherman who told me of the old tsunami, ufff me that the child was when it happened and that was raging sea throughout your home and luckily his family was saved and that he viewed from afar and thought a volcano that was coming up ... Well the truth I got a little scared because with all his conversation I remembered that it was about to enter the sea .. but when I went to the surface sambullì and lay down on the river that kept me watching the sky and there was this clear sky as blue as ever, as if to say I do not care for tsunami .. Then he gave me the confidence and starting to show he could cross the river twice without fear lol but it was getting cold. Well now it's winter
perhaps why the sky does not shine so much .. but I'm worried, because I think ... as it did in other winter to see the clear sky even with clouds. My grandmother would say "those were different times" .. if the old lady might be right .. but the truth is that something is missing that poor sky, yeah yeah, something is missing "may be sad .. but I can not think of that might be distressing if it's so beautiful, and can be happy watching from above so things on earth or may not have someone to love .. there a heaven? .. haha.
If it exists, has an ugly name.
may not get away with it and it's just that now I'm staring eyes. Wet Pussy
.. Yellow caterpillar or butterfly?

Male Masterbation Doll

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Viejito Cochino

Cat Bam Bam

These photos are pa remember the old pig for so long that accompanied our family, I remember that once I put a picture of him in a page and a comment said ... Ufffff is that!, Which ugliest cat! .. no .. maybe I loved it .. but it is the cat flea which I have had more .. Bam Bam says

..; Thanks for your love, food and the kittens nearby .. Greetings
Agu by caressing both .. to see me beautiful and lucid Jorgito for understanding ..

Old Pig.

How Often Does Baby Think It Over Cry

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You say ..
How was your love.?
.. For me it was the homeland.
That in my long exile, rocked my hair And thy womb
infinite, awakening the aroma of the Garden so far ..
Lost in your eyes and tangled in your Arms, I discovered that life .. has a happy side.
I will never forget .. Soil that you raised me and I went up to your Besos ..
I will never forget .. that your body on, forget the winter.
I went to your waist eternal, immortal in your breasts .. You asked for it so soon ..
remember one afternoon, on the edge of my tears .. I asked you love me? .. occupy in your life .. a small piece
I do today .. this love that in your absence .. I have continued to grow?
winter I want you to imagine Worldwide .. if you take with you that corner of the Sun that warmed my years. We traveled
naked, in those corners where I live the anguish and let us Besos raising Tenderness where he lived the fear .. and went hand in hand, through the tunnel without bottom, skipping the horizon that was just fear.
My presence was you .. a back loaded to fall back a bit .. you held me trembling, throbbing with desires ..
.. And had your dove, my fingers wet ..
sear your flight ..
and with hard flight. I was always a leaf
dry.
Greening your wings, you get the flight, looking for a gardener to fix your landscape and cut the plum tree that gave my flowers .. words that sow .. where I planted songs.
I fell for your grief .. and ran into the other .. I felt strong until your fatigue loading. and you know it's true .. Remember it's winter
.. and I have your arms entibiando my dreams ..
think that in the summer open wide in full sun trembled, looking for your tenderness .. Who is he
harvest your smile today .. like me in hard times .. pure despair, drink your sorrow and love you out .. from the corner of your mouth crying ..?
I was .. who drank you .. your dark side, when the sweat of love, slip of origin of your wing .. to my mouth!
This poem seems a rebuke poor ..
but it's just a wound that just opened
just want you to know .. I want to say here ..
and you I miss you .. that life hurts ..
when I'm away.
grown penalty Me .. but do not worry, the pain in my chest is not a new thing ..
That spring will come, to lie to her flowers ... that can serve the trap of colors, this apprentice trainee Quijote anything?
Where I do not read it back failed?
you, you forget ..
but I want you to know ..
my body, your body ..
had another twenty years. But
I'm remembered at your breasts .. They
not forget .. Workers these hands! Where were Beautiful .....
You say that you go ..
.. I? .. You think ..

Quelentaro.

Building A Feeder For A Miniature Horse

March, 2005

opened the cortinitas ... inche opened my eyes making me look towards the window and saw the pine wet from the fall of the South, and pretend to wake up in amazement I stare at the show that gave ko droplets from the sky over the houses to welcome Temuco. .. The Assistant to the bus to his,, and I did not sleep a wink all night, imagine the impatience in waiting to take out my bicycle luggage carrier .. but had to wait more ... because clean and angry rain tumbled down, and went to breakfast at the terminal while listening to the news from the Vatican about the recent death of John Paul II,, .. was a common breakfast for Temucano Quimey time they did the terminal .. .. But the Coffee with melted cheese bread was different for me, it tasted as a Typical food temuco, but it was a simple breakfast ... And every time she took a sip and looked Mount Ñielol always been there, I was dying to go whole or wondered how other people did to avoid having the same deseos.Por finally finished! .. I entertained me! .. pass the water! .. I grabbed my bike!, I put the headphones on my ears stiff with cold and I long for the main street of Temuco, and there was the purple singing the ear, there were the streets with their rukitas wood, there was this Smell of many mixtures, there were people and waking up early, there were many pictures of other years tung waiting, there were the apple
pointing to eat them all, because I always wonder
Mapu still amazes me the red, the breath of wind from the South, speaking Mapudungun Dome, with the scent of apples that have no other, the greetings of the people on the street without knowing, and the accent of the guentrus peasants, Me love the terminal "Rural" to go to Puerto Saavedra instead of the modern, the first women has baskets, a couple of chickens and achaguales in the carrier bags, a merchant, half asleep he did not touch seat, and the bus is very alaraco old, complains every time he touches the path of stones ... While the windows are never closed and the smell gets forced through the cracks ... and tickles my nose and my teeth start hover as if to laugh
is true that people turn away from me, but this kind of people tell me much, it's really like some things, but a place like this would be perfect,
The way nakmen tillage is to fast .. but the journey to port is to look at the fields, the trails, streams, rivers, the figures that leaves the cloudy day in heaven, and to eat sprouts that I stole the road.
A slender young farmer greets me with pretentious intentions .. makes the bike and start wiggling desperately to remember whether it was chance that I made the coat of cat "before leaving the terminal, but in the South is always ready to forget me" .. when the peasant Guentru away on the road with the chupalla in his hand, makes me think seriously about the future .. and decide I want a man with big hands "to work the land .. I say ... When in Santiago
new images will have to think about, and remembering that I know are the same as always strange, because every time I look the South Kallfü Wenumapu tells me things that still do not understand, I need, and for the wind blows in between the polar neck, but nothing I am aware of and focused on many things.