How Do I Wedding Date To Friends In A Humourous

"What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how unbegranzt in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! commercially as similar to a Angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! But what I this quintessence of dust? is be it! May the Prince of Denmark, a idle and being blasé, not have had with people in mind, I know him! The bard was half right: the act of the people is not very angelic, and it is blasphemous to compare the human understanding with God, but there is something better than the people it is not on Erden.Was but action and understanding-so far as this is a chimera, vanity, deceit, really Quintessent Staube.Der of man, he is not acting, he is Körper.Selbst the plant that please the eye, the most abundant and most wonderful flowers to compare themselves not with the construction of the magnificent human Körpers.Blumen are primitive and simplistic, both inside and out: How to be a Blüttenblatt also rotate, it's boring anzuschauen.Was have their greedy Stengel, the poor-geometric inflorescences, the miserable stamens against the purple tight muscles that Elastizät silky skin, the silver mother of pearl of the stomach, the graceful turns of the intestine and the mysterious asymmetry of the liver!
Is it possible to for the monotonous color blooming poppy compare with the various nuances of human blood, the deep scarlet of the arterial flow to the royal venous purple? What is the vulgar Blue Bellflower against the delicate light blue drawing of the capillaries or the leaves changing color of maple against the flaming red of the monthly flow? The female body is much more refined and a hundred times more interesting than the männliche.Die function of the female body is not heavy work, and destruction, but creation and Wartung.Die elastic uterus is like a precious Perlmuschel.Das's the idea! a fertilized womb open to the interior the shell to discover a maturing pearl-yes, yes, absolutely! thing tomorrow!
I had to fast for a long time since the butter week.
dries out my lips, as they said repeatedly, "refresh my damn heart with fasting, that kills the passion!" The Lord is gracious and merciful, He will not be angry with that Karft was not enough for six days until the Easter Sunday is the 3rd of April auszuharren.Immerhin no ordinary day, but the anniversary of the Erleuchtung.Damals was also 3.April.Daß another calendar was, is unwichtig.Wichtig is the music of the words: third-th A-pril .
Fasteb I have my own, my own Ostern.Wenn I break even the fasting then richtig.Nein, I will not wait until tomorrow. Today! yes, yes hold a feast.
to saturate non-no, the übersättigen.Nicht for my sake, but for the glory of God.
For He was the one who opened my eyes and taught me to see true beauty and begreifen.Mehr yet to reveal them and the world is visible to the machen.Und equivalent Erschaffen.Ich am a companion of the creator.
What a pleasure after a long abstinence, the fasting brechen.Ich remember every delicious moment, I know that everything will keep Gedächnis to the smallest detail, every visual, gustatory, tactile, auditory, olfactory Empfindung.Ich close eyes and see:
later, can not Abend.Ich schlafen.Erregung and enthusiasm lead me through dirt roads, past Ödplätzen, crooked houses and crooked Zäunen.Schon many nights in a row escapes me, the Schlaf.Ich feel a pressure on the chest and a throbbing in the Schläfen.Tagsüber I fall asleep for a half or a Hour and wake of terrible Traumgesischtern to which I can not remember anymore.
I go and dream of death, by the encounter with Him, but I wei0: Death may I nciht, it is too early, my mission is not fulfilled.
a voice from the darkness: "How about a nightcap?" A biting, drunken Stimme.Ich turn around and see the ugliest and most disgusting of all human beings: a run-down whore, drunk, pulled down, but it Grotest painted with white makeup and lipstick.
I turn away in disgust, but suddenly penetrates well-known mercy Herz.Arme my creature, what have you done to thee And the should be a woman, a masterpiece of divine art! How can you mock only themselves so and humiliate, violate God's gift so!
you yourself, of course, no Schuld.Die soulless, cruel society has geworfen.Aber up in the dirt I am going to clean up and retten.Die soul is light and happy.
Who would have thought that it will happen. I have not had no intention of breaking the fast, otherwise I would not have gone through this shanty town, but by the stinking streets of Chitiwka or Gratschowka where vulgarity and vice, are at home. But magnanimity and generosity, stained quite easily impatient desire to meet me.
"I want to please you, my love," I say. "Come with me."
I wear men's stuff, and the witch thinks it was a foul for their goods Käifer gefunden.Sie laughs hoarsely. "Wirdenn Where to go? Listen, have ever coal? Spendier me something to drink before all that." A poor wandering sheep.
I lead them through a dark yard, the Schuppen.Ungeduldigt I Stir on a door, a second, dirtte is not closed.
The Happy Cooker me breathes booze in the neck and giggles. "Oops, put me in the shed. Did it but nötog" A generous cut with a scalpel, and I open the door to her soul freedom. But the successful liberation
not without pain, it's like a Birth. The woman I love with all my heart now has a lot of pain, she gasps and bites on the gag, but I strechle her head and comforted her: ". Be patient" My hands do quickly and cleanly to their Werk.Licht bracuhe I do not see my eyes at night twie Sun gu day. I
swings / open the disgraced, soiled cover her body, the soul of my dear sister you up, and I was striving in prayer before the perfection of the divine mechanism.
When I lifted up with a heartfelt smile, her warm heart to my face, twitches and wriggles like a fish caught there, and I kiss the beautiful little fish on the open tender Lips of the aorta.
The place is well chosen, no one bothers me, and this time is sung the hymn to the beauty to the end and vollendet.Sclafe with a kiss on the cheek, mine sister, your life was disgusting and horrible, your sight, the eye offended, but thanks to my you have become beautiful.

Take the following Blume.Ihre true beauty is not on the field and not be seen on the bed, oh no! The Rose has the royal bodice, the carnation in his buttonhole, the violets in the hair of a beautiful Frau.Der triumph of a flower falls, even if it is cut, her real life is the death not to trennen.So it is with the menschlcihen body. As long as he lives. he can not in all his magnificence magnificent building zeigen.Ich to help the body triumphieren.Ich am gardener.
But, no, a gardener cuts off only the flower, I can do but from body organs a mural of berauschnder beauty, a sublime Dekoration.In England comes a new Berunf in fashion-decorator, a specialist in the beautification of home, shop windows, the festive street. .
I am not a gardener, I am a decorator "

(Boris Akunin" the beauty of the dead girl ")