The Romanian Book 12.06.18 12:03:07 to 12:05:37

all kierkegaard and vodka
 
but the liver is almost incandescent, schizophrenia and old age. and in people who rise from the dead, dear, there is not a day it does not appear our love is an old alcoholic: and i waited happily. as a belt. all the poems in
 
almost always, as if unwillingly,
almost always, as if unwillingly,
almost always, as if unwillingly,
almost always, as if unwillingly,

The Vampire Texts 12.06.18 12:01:03 to 12:02:31

he munches the blood, gobbles up the heart. a poet, put your belt, don’t strike down the others
 
are just as lonely in the heart. therefore be alive, be happy of your live life, when my father disappeared. dear, let the fear anoint my body that, after a point, full of love sniffed the mouldballs
 
real inebriation has not come. you think i do not know how sweet.

The Romanian Book 12.06.18 11:58:10 to 11:59:22

satchel illuminating all the
 
and i remembered how my friends in cisnădie, perfect victim a child waiting every day i was 17 and i was a porter as if your eyelids were cut and you see, exceedingly clear, with me. mashed under the as the doctor visits the wards.
 
white picket fence wood: children’s eyes believe that beauty exists, to still
 
having only my ever expansive belly.

The Romanian Book 12.06.18 11:55:37 to 11:57:54

does not tear the brain. in which his face seemed to me i was 17 and i was a porter like the recidivists in bunks,
 
we were three porters on siretului, that, after a point, or to make love
 
swaying. all shall repeat again and again, because you know in the cuts juicy with blood then, especially in the dark so understand and forgive, father – for someone to free her fat dumb drosophila-guy.

The Vampire Texts 12.06.18 11:52:24 to 11:55:12

the hard part comes in the morning, he munches the blood, gobbles up the heart. they prayed and praying again a poet, put your belt, don’t strike down the others
 
as you realize that one of them can approach cami knows that at the end of all glasses all shall repeat again and again, because you know today i shave and brush my teeth without we, suicides, woke up each one of us.

The Romanian Book 12.06.18 11:49:04 to 11:52:09

and now, alone among your roses, rosary. a black sun like the first fifty of vodka so understand and forgive, father – knows how old and i kept deviating part of the brain that can be seen,
 
rosary. and in the morning when the sun is a talkative as a politician that, after a point, like a refugee hacked by dogs we, suicides, woke up each one of us near my poor body. then it is dreaming time’.

The Vampire Texts 12.06.18 10:07:42 to 10:09:31

are just as lonely nails and our bloodied shoulders with fear. no difference to remove a typo. on the sides of the small trough of ribs i had found with my brother iuli
 
from the world of light & paranoia is excavated. those covered by a grass too dry our love is an old alcoholic:
 
but the liver is almost incandescent, quantity transforms into quality.

The Vampire Texts 12.06.18 08:48:22 to 08:50:07

ca de o centură. contemporanii mei care au gândit abia atunci am devenit și eu niciodată nu treci şi nu atât spaima din minutele de după, frate floris, ne-ai făcut. când ne-am şi nu atât spaima din minutele de după, şi nu atât spaima din minutele de după, şi nu atât spaima din minutele de după, şi nu atât spaima din minutele de după, şi nu atât spaima din minutele de după.