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Array
(
[sid] => 103747
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => without armfuls of flowers
[time] => 2005-08-17 17:19:27
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => In the air smells vodka, when I bless with problem. Peace for girls which are in room alone with sound system. I know,sometimes it's hart to be dreamer. When forced under pressure,stress is workings terrain. I know like you, this no slept nights. And at morning undertake Tangle matters,with new plan as with battering ram. I know.I have this same harassed thoughts. I know it.It's me well-known,feeling related with this. Smoking.Falling into manias. Life diametrically different because no on screen. Fight about survival and wangling introduces me into condition,bad decidedly. A lot of situation which tire quickly. A lot of movements which serve anything. A lot of share which destroy all. Which bad foretell as silence before storm. And they lie as dogs. You should thought when after fact tears flooded your eyes. And by seven days this dream dreams . I welcome day from level of armchair .From interior of room. I greet you, arduous day. Here over this second bad side of rainbow. I greet without armfuls of flowers. Without restrictions. Day, which piles up in front of me,larger,shadow above internal world. I greet, but I'm more and more clumsy. This gesture. Nobody will help out.You know how tires thinking about condition of thing. You know how it's when somebody's act yours words denies. You know as this treat.But this hurt. Rockets of THC as two blade of swords... Now... I fight and growl.Smoke caresses my palate. I will deliver shield for you.Mayby I don't suffice But I will be near. Except you I listen nobody. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 43 [informant] => duch [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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