square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: October 2007
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. Young Man and the Sea. In the middle of an ocean of troubles. The silvery water gazes at your gentle boat of travel. The migratory birds cross you with a laugh for themselves. You migrate on the hopeless boat of rubble. Ripple; ripple….the union of man and boat rips through the water. Searching for a dark island far away. The diamond twinkles of lost hope.
dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com
Dennis Roobarro: Oogly? what is that Oogli?
http://dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com/2008/01/oogly-what-is-that-oogli.html
Because no body names a blog after themselves, I mixed it up a little. Tuesday, 29 January 2008. What is that Oogli? Ugliness personified.that is me. So if you have children to scare. please dont call me. But a picture of me should do the job just fine. I wonder if there any special jobs for ugly people.i'd be famous! I just read ur blog.I think Im reading something I would have written myself.nobody is ugly.How can u call urself ugly? Ur not ur own! 17 March 2008 at 19:09. I'm still alive, bro. :o.
dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com
Dennis Roobarro: September 2009
http://dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html
Because no body names a blog after themselves, I mixed it up a little. Monday, 7 September 2009. I had calmed down, the storm was approaching, but I was going to beat it home. I was thinking would I ever tell her, and if I did what would I say. There was a song on the radio it made sense to me:. I think I love you, so what am I so afraid of? I'm afraid that I'm not sure of. A love there is no cure for. I think I love you. Believe me; you really don’t have to worry. I only want to make you happy.
dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com
Dennis Roobarro: March 2014
http://dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com/2014_03_01_archive.html
Because no body names a blog after themselves, I mixed it up a little. Sunday, 2 March 2014. A very long holiday. It's funny how you start out looking for something, and end up finding something you forgot existed in the first place. I had such a moment this weekend. Rummaging in my shed for a bundle of pictures, I found a book I had forgotten all about. The marching band outside a window plays,. In the room above a man is laid -. In the heat of June. His lips are curled, his eyes so dry.
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: GC
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2013/02/gc.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. His head is weary with thoughts- cursing him to make mistakes. By the beach of pain and relief- his sand castles seem to disappear. Through the words of a smile- you words find the simplicity of pain. The notion of falling apart with the sky falling- he just seems to break and tear. Now is not the time to panic- we told him- now is the time to forget. Posted by...
dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com
Dennis Roobarro: Post for 2010
http://dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com/2010/11/post-for-2010.html
Because no body names a blog after themselves, I mixed it up a little. Wednesday, 17 November 2010. I just had to make an entry for 2010. However, I might add something more. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). One For My Virtual Friends. A Thing called LIFE ;). MY Manly Voice. =D. View my complete profile.
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: Listening
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2013/02/listening.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. The scourge is over; there is a bloom inside somewhere,. I think I’m being noble, to listen and try – a thing to share. Suffering is a passing stage; life’s just like that. Her words kept me calm and stupid; oh! There was a bold music in my head; I sang it loud in my silence. I dreamt of a land beside the sea; but there was a tickle in my conscience.
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: September 2007
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. For two people, I wish they care more……. It’s not nice to be nice. There are no hiding places then. Not many people appreciate it. They give you directions for the wrong lane. Admitting that you are just here. Stagnant in this revolving world. Just another speck of grain. An everything of nothing, pale and dull. Your senses beg you to feel its sensation. I eat ...
square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one: My Dear Penny Lane, I Love You
http://square-one-syndrome.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-dear-penny-lane-i-love-you.html
Inflicted by a disease to start again from square one. Playing with a tambourine,balancing on a rope. circus boy hanging on, hanging to the hope. My Dear Penny Lane, I Love You. Dear Penny Lane,. You are like the soothing morning of the coldest night. Like the sands that stays back in your hand after the ocean eats away. Like the tears after years of holding back. Like the course you suddenly realise was right all along. Like the heart the mind hates to admit. Like my words and my dreams.
dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com
Dennis Roobarro: I'm sick, but I feel so good.
http://dennis-roobarro.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-sick-but-i-feel-so-good.html
Because no body names a blog after themselves, I mixed it up a little. Monday, 11 August 2008. I'm sick, but I feel so good. There’s voices in my head. They tell me I’m so dead. But because I sing a long. To the tune of their own song. So they let me be for now. At least. But when the levee breaks. It will come underdone, tears. Frozen by the lonely one. Veiled in white they pass me by. Twenty four lines - my watch is done. Over the hills now comes the sun. Burn me brother, burn me bright.
