New resumption of some of the texts I write every day for the group blog the convoy glossolalists . This time, texts written between July 15, 2010 and August 15, 2010. The title above each of them over the heading the note in which they were originally posted.
The following selection is made very instinctively, flying over the texts of the period and retaining those whose memory retains the best memory. The texts that are part of a set of many are not back, he will be here when the series they are an episode is completed (as was the case here and there ).
Reminder operation of convoy glossolalists : it is a group blog open to any and all volunteers. The authors publish texts consist of a single paragraph (no maximum no minimum length - just a paragraph, the text stops when doing full stop). The authors can publish texts on time, all they want (no more than one text a day though) and no particular pattern (publish once, a single text is available). Authors may also - they are even encouraged to do - decide to adopt a constraint on the frequency of publication of their texts. The frequency is then that they decided (not more than one text per day as well), and applies during the period they have previously chosen themselves. The
texts are published daily in a single ticket that includes all the paragraphs to be published today (the number is variable, depending on the frequencies which have forced the authors, and occasional texts delivered). All authors' names is mentioned in a list in the right column of the blog, but each text is not explicitly attributed to its author. We are currently
twenty-four author (s) to participate or have participated in this blog (including (the) s thirteen author (s) of blogs), we can easily reach us by sending an email to convoiglossolales [at] gmail.com
252: Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Today is the first global day of slow, and with it an admission by the mechanisms of our society they do not know at all how to free itself from the bustle, no longer able in this case as an incentive event, and folk heritage. Each person is required to move in a reduction in rate than it is accustomed. Walkers must mentally count the rhythm of their steps and do a walk on two motorists roll their eyes on the needle of the meter, which marks an unusually acute angle. Urban traffic is after all not less fluid than usual. The ceiling fans are not having less activity than usual, although the atmosphere around them is less disturbed. The day's exhausting, and without wishing to complain, I can be of them you say with full knowledge. Any fall is not recommended because the attraction Land could not be convinced by the high stakes of the day, it would not be slower than the days alas any, during which it is physically possible to fall in speed limits. This morning in a very elderly had the bitter experience suffered a sunstroke while she was crossing a wide avenue where the shade was missing. She escaped sanctions because shortly thereafter, the President of our Republic, the victim of the sun, was struck by a vagal during his daily jog, performed at moderate speed remarkably than half its pace usual. Today more than ever, for premature ejaculation, make it or break it, and most are casual supporters of abstinence. Now the planes are unable to take off because they have no right to attain the velocity that would allow them to leave the ground, they spend hours and hours to turn round on the asphalt tracks. It is expected that earlier in Berne, no more fond of phrases richly endowed with proposals do not start any fear of not being able to find the end before bedtime. Now cross cyclists their fingers on the handlebars in the hope of returning home before dark. Today the targets are able to avoid bullets and dance in grace, while no one is serious about finished reading War and Peace until the next day. Today more than ever these days to the global con emmerdent us: give us back the slow throughout the year, even at the cost of boredom. Here, relentless and all its evidence, the record of this absurd episode.
258: Tuesday, July 27, 2010
We had the idea that there was a romantic posture, we did not know but wanted to implement it. Also, it manifested itself in our attitude at the turn of a few statements about our erratic melancholy, in the dark world and existence, and about the ardent desire for life and self-defeating, since we Do not design our youth to survive while being frightened by the slightest little real risk that we could meet. For the rest, and in fact it included, we were the most common youth of fifteen years. At a session during Sports, devoted to the javelin, many declared themselves poets, and each in turn said he was writing poems about death. The first was said to be the one who took the initiative to report poet, one who had the idea and wanted to say to his comrades, all alone with him as he was alone at world, in his melancholy tragedy, he wrote poems about death. Those who said he had to find that this was an excellent statement, and no better was possible at that time, they recurred so for themselves. I think because my mind was exactly when it except that I tried to find something else that is not worse, no less fully involved in the tragedy and pain, and no less ambitious to me. So I say that, of course, I also wrote poems, but in my case it was poems about the Apocalypse. In the time of this conversation, we launched a few spears on the ground gravel behind the locker room. I planted on the ground as many darts in my life I wrote poems about the Apocalypse. None.
259: Wednesday, July 28, 2010
There is a large vent at the top of the hill. It is a big and round towers, it inflates and deflates like a bellows, it expands and shrinks its forms and tirelessly serves to maintain inflated the hill on which it rests, it remains the highlight of the city, both the best of all views that are available on the city and a key element of its landscape, crowned with its big and its towers alternately swell and shrink. Ambient air is drawn into the lungs and expelled in large hill under him. The volume change of the mound is minimal and imperceptible as the air is introduced very slowly and regularly discharged below the embossed lines, leaving the breath which drives turbines which moves through the train serving the top and base of the site.
268: Friday, August 6, 2010
Here, we never lost the war, or rather it behaves as if it had won although it was lost, without ever mentioning admit or even allow himself to think that this defeat was a real and effective. We do not deny that war took place, no, it traces the history and we celebrate the victory, although it never was, and what happened instead was a ruthless and humiliating debacle. We celebrate the birthdays of epic battles that never were, which may and probably would have been if the first clashes were not appalling failures. We honor the heroes who enabled us to win, which could have been were they, who were, and we defeated nimbèrent glory because our history is glorious and victorious in essence, whatever the vagaries insignificant and inconsequential history. A new holiday was established to commemorate the surrender of our enemy in this latest war is today until the next brightest of our triumphs.
270: Sunday, August 8, 2010
272: Tuesday, August 10, 2010
I would not caress the soft skin and blond islands that exist outside of my hopes and my dreams unreasonable lunatics. Cruelty is it that our dreams The most expensive are of this world only as a dream when we want flesh and living space. These are the promises that we thought heard, those who said no one that we should live our lives without having to live, and who believed the hearing, we heard them and Crum. I met them sometimes awake, or at least my mind and my body agreed to recognize them and convinced me. Unsustainability confirmed their value of dreams and promise, it validates their existence. He also disagrees deprive them of our desire.
274: Thursday, August 12 2010
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