bonivich.livejournal.com
❝we wretched the blood from heart, and broke the neck for bone❞ - ❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/1029.html
We wretched the blood from heart, and broke the neck for bone - suffer well. As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 28 June 2011 @ 02:54 pm. We wretched the blood from heart, and broke the neck for bone.
bonivich.livejournal.com
Tags - ❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/tag
Tags - suffer well. As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars.
bonivich.livejournal.com
❝teeth sinking into heart❞ - ❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/541.html
Teeth sinking into heart - suffer well. As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 28 June 2011 @ 12:49 pm. Teeth sinking into heart. Powered by Last.fm.
bonivich.livejournal.com
❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/tag/archive%20posts
As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 14 September 2011 @ 11:27 pm. Give my gun away when it's loaded. Viewing most recent entries.
bonivich.livejournal.com
give my gun away when it's loaded - ❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/4855.html
Give my gun away when it's loaded - suffer well. As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 14 September 2011 @ 11:27 pm. Give my gun away when it's loaded. Words i've learned in Swedish: brother.
bonivich.livejournal.com
❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/tag/(language%20archive)
As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 14 September 2011 @ 11:27 pm. Give my gun away when it's loaded. Viewing most recent entries.
bonivich.livejournal.com
September 14th, 2011 - ❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/2011/09/14
September 14th, 2011 - suffer well. As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 14 September 2011 @ 12:05 am. Day 011. your siblings. (in great detail.). 14 September 2011 @ 11:27 pm.
bearrs.livejournal.com
2012 - your bones pop like a wine glass
http://bearrs.livejournal.com/calendar
2012 - your bones pop like a wine glass. You give me miles and miles of mountains. What about a teakettle? What if the spout opened and closed when the steam came out, so it would become a mouth, and it could whistle pretty melodies, or do Shakespeare, or just crack up with me? Which is a French expression I know. And, also, there are so many times when you need to make a quick escape, but humans don't have their own wings, or not yet, anyway, so what about a birdseed shirt?
bonivich.livejournal.com
❝this is the price we pay when we try to play god.❞ - ❝suffer well❞
http://bonivich.livejournal.com/3039.html
This is the price we pay when we try to play god. - suffer well. As though the fullness of the soul did not sometimes overflow into the emptiest phrases, since no one can ever express the exact measure of his needs, his conceptions or his sorrows, and human speech is like a cracked pot on which we beat out rhythms for bears to dance to when we are striving to make music that will wring tears from the stars. 04 July 2011 @ 07:19 pm. This is the price we pay when we try to play god. Powered by Last.fm.
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