velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: August 2008
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Friday, August 1, 2008. But you cant do it for ever. My tired eyes can no longer see forward. Which holds...
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: March 2008
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Thursday, March 27, 2008. Originally uploaded by velvetplains. Gepostet von Jürgen Bischoff.
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: August 2007
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Sunday, August 12, 2007. As folhas est ã. No começo lentamente ,. Suspendidas pelo ar,. A pressão do vento.
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: January 2009
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Friday, January 16, 2009. Braucht man eine Berechtigung um sich zu verstecken, um kaputt zu sein?
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: Asleep
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2008/10/asleep.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Friday, October 24, 2008. Into this life that is but a dream. Even the gods are afraid of our coming,.
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: December 2007
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Friday, December 28, 2007. Today I sought inspiration somewhere else. In the music of Godspeed You! IR...
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: June 2008
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Friday, June 13, 2008. The moth flaps its wings silently,. Trapped in a densely filled train. The Moth Th...
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: my next mistake.
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-next-mistake.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Friday, August 1, 2008. But you cant do it for ever. My tired eyes can no longer see forward. Which holds...
velvetplains.blogspot.com
Cubicle of Existence: Blackwell
http://velvetplains.blogspot.com/2008/11/blackwell.html
I hate this question. When you meet someone new, and you start being interrogated, as if you were a criminal. What if I told you I didn’t know? What if I told I had no story to tell? Would you be disappointed? I’m sorry, but I don’t dream, I don’t make up stories, I live reality. A reality that doesn’t exist. I’m a musician, and my instrument is time. I’m a poet, and my words pray silence. Maelström. Wednesday, November 12, 2008. The features on his face are blank,. And his memory defines moments,.
