Friday. Contact. Helena Petrovna Blavatsky's reincarnation.

Les Joyaux de la Princesse does.

http://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chco=76A4FB&cht=lxy&chd=t:0,10,20,40,80,90,95,99,100|0,5,25,45,65,85,100&chs=550x400&chxt=x,y,x,y&chxl=2:|importance+of+artist|3:|in+shoutbox+||+retardation+observed|&chxp=2,50|3,50

and dissembled in sorrow
The advent of spring, in the rise of tomorrow
Shall weather its beauty and relish its pain
Wandering forth in golden rain

But meaningless lights
Still hold our attention
We think that the holy books
Are written in blood and fire

First he comes
From on a hill
Then he's running
Throughout the town
Then he stands
Devoid of peace
Devoid of place
Devoid of pity
Dear Christ
Carried broken from sad brown earth

For a wounded man shall say to his assailant,
"If I live, I will kill you; if I die, you are forgiven".

I still get letters in the mail, mostly from cracked-up men in tiny rooms with factory jobs or no jobs who are living with whores or no women at all, no hope, just booze and madness.

I just removed all loved tracks. I couldn't stand the small red heart icon. Why the Last.fm API doesn't have a User.removeAllLovedTracks method?

I always run while others walk,
I act while other men just talk.
I look at the world, and want it all,
So I strike, like thunderball.

I know the meaning of success,
My needs are more, so I give less.
They call me the winner who takes all,
And I strike, like thunderball.

Any woman I want, I can get,
I will break any heart without regret.

My days of asking are all gone,
My fight goes on and on and on.
But I think that the fight is worth it all,
So I strike, like thunderball.

Tags: S.W.A.T.…