Tired And Peeing A Lot, Why?

shoal
This story began at the dawn of the year bitch two thousand eight.
The storm raged.
It was impossible to distinguish anything.
I was alone.
face myself and the raging elements.
I am not master mariner.
Navigation is not my chosen field.
Yet there are many similarities between my life and
this profession. I wiped
many storms.
This must be the lot of those who venture offshore
It seems that in these moments
we judge the quality of people.
One thing is certain though, is at the heart of the storm
that one begins to dream of embellished.


radio silence
A month has elapsed since the beginning of the year.
A month of rain, damage. A month without an identifiable horizon.
I abandoned my car and now sleep on deck.
behavior of members My crew is strange.
We do not share more than to deal with the basics.
I watch any star in the sky,
any signs of life in this vastness.
For two months my radio is silent.
For two months I must content myself with the lapping waves.


banks virtual
A month has passed since my last note in my diary.
A month of rain, cold, loneliness. A certain desperation
won the crew.
I still find his behavior strange.
Tension over the board is such that it now seems palpable.
Yesterday I thought I heard a seagull.
At first I could tell you knew if I had actually heard
or if I wanted until I convinced myself of its reality.
Yesterday I thought I heard a seagull.
If this were the case, it is possible that the earth is near.
Today, at the time or the stars have not completely disappeared
rain suddenly stopped. This sudden silence me out of my torpor.
A few miles away, straight ahead, in the dawn,
shatter a string of lush islands. To my knowledge no
card mentions their existence.


charm the blogosphere
My impression was correct. The strange behavior of my crew.
It seems I am the only person on board to distinguish between these islands.
Around me, all busy with their daily tasks.
I leave the charm work. I walk alone in the ocean of the blogosphere.


Island Guard words
I anchored near the island's largest archipelago. These
Island Guard words, I shall learn later.
I go down to earth to do exploration. The sun
shines. I remain suspicious.
I more used to mild weather.
From the first glance the island is welcoming. I
term in part. It is inhabited.
Initially I hide and observe the behavior of its natives.
Can I fit the local population that shows no sign of hostility.
order not to attract attention I'm an assumed name.
I remain long on this island.
I take friendship for its inhabitants.
is a fantastic island. It hosts
forests with rare words. I like to get lost.
I make this island my home port.
From here I will leave to explore the ocean of the blogosphere.
Here I come back regularly.


meeting with Traces
For a starry night, one of those nights or the vastness of space
envelops you in the sheets of the Milky Way,
I discover, at the turn of a page of sand White
a message that resembles nothing so much as an invitation. Comic
on the sand, a maritime map
means an island of the archipelago: Island Traces .
This is the second island I explore actually.
I come into contact with the population Local
... Until one day saw me Strolling Traces on the island.
She takes me for someone else.
This misunderstanding resulted a certain friendship.


the reef absurd
After Island Traces
I explore many atolls where I stayed only briefly.
I discovered that the places where we feel good
are not so many as that.
I do not know how I fail on pages Melo,
but I feel good immediately.
I seek refuge in the shadow of his circumflex accents. I note carefully
coordinates of the island
alongside those of Traces and the Garde-words.


atolls around
From island to island, turn in turn, I explore the atolls
Malvina , Veronique , Foam and many others ... I myself rarely
make known.
I read, observe, absorb.


stay the course
To respect my prior commitments
I regained my ship and my crew. I reluctantly set sail.
We have a mission to complete. A shipment of words deliver.
I am aware that I left to find the calm the storm.
It can not be otherwise.


in port
Good or bad, time will tell, we arrive at the port.
Once again we have accomplished our mission.
Back on the mainland all forget the months of storm
and loneliness that we just crossed.
All except me. The sea
name.


the call of the sea
This Day Today I decided to go back to sea
I do not know yet what this adventure
me aside and what new I will face storms.
I do not know what to look like this trip.
What I do know, however, is that whatever happens, I will focus on
Archipelago Madeleines.
the

Debeer Myssy Lacrosse Stick Vs Stx Racy

The Godasse

You know No poetry that takeout, 5 will be launched soon, here's an interview web radio / granted by a member of the Triumvirate for this launch.

click below

The Godasse - No Takeout, 5

Does Tyos R Us Offer Layaway

Slam

Thank you all who voted Carl Bessette, that allowing the person to participate in the final and then going to far as possible from the experience Tournament CBC. The final was between Carl Bessette Mario Cholette. The latter wrote this little article on the event:

At the Museum of Civilisation in Quebec City was the final recorded As expected Slam Macadam, Macadam initiative tribes. It's the end of a poetic tournament began in September 2007. Two slammers clashed each month, the public was asked to nominate a winner by voting online. The first semifinal was held in December, the second last month. The two winners, Mario Cholette, Carl Bessette, compete in the season finale of season Macadam Tribus .

This show was recorded in front of 250 people who voted by show of hands to indicate Slam winner tarmac. It is broadcast on Saturday, June 21 Première Chaîne de Radio-Canada, 10 am to 12 pm, and Saturday nights from 21 pm to 23 pm
The show is really good. I particularly loved the opening skit on the colon Pierre Hébert. You will understand that the theme of the show is the foundation of Quebec City is celebrating its 400th anniversary this summer.
Note that the final tarmac Slam will take place in the second hour of the show.

For those who want to hear a sample, it is still available on Radio-Canada, after a search for Slam Macadam. In my own name (Carl), I personally have nothing to say about the texts, but on questions asked in interview he would, after two years of intense media coverage of the word slam , cease mention the endless anxieties about the nature of that slam. We learn much more about a topic to learn its projects, namely what he does, he prepares, where he goes, what experiences have wrought, and so on., Rather than condemn him forever unicellular to the same questions and sterile.

Lindsey Dawn Sport 16

Let us place the appropriate keywords and to attract me to the public Internet : Coffee table, Denmark, aluminum

Hey! My
incompetence that I will rebate the balls for a few chandeliers not get me rescued while, so twisty finding my emptiness (in that it penetrates the heart of a land metonymic to abort any global mosaic, no I'm kidding, I mean, in that I am fiercely determined to spend my 35 hours in the crapper), my bosses, in a move that can be described without penalty desperate entrusted me with responsibility (I'm not me piss off with ascii). Thought, because behind every act employer is hiding a little slut thought, thought therefore, can be summarized as follows: entrust him a real job sucks, and worse if we can show the transfer quiet, perhaps have even that he will resign under the weight stigma of failure, hmm? If you want to believe me, the bosses are big children.
I failed, eh. But not that much. So, I am considered "in progress". hihi. I like to giggle, because "in progress". hihihi.
Notwithstanding, they're going. I wanted to lay eggs, there's little, while a meta mess on the need to tell his life through work. To talk about it. How a guy like me can resolutely inert feel this need to talk about the inintérêt (Work) in the heart of boredom (my So-Called Life, homey). The trouble is interested, y'know? And from me a speech here on top, umbrella my tirades of m'astiquer syntax. I tell you, we came very close to nihilism. It's summer
what. They're necessities of motion of the speech. It's summer and I love all the seasons. I went back to the story to rant 2 balls, you've seen. It is awkward, and I lack time to heal everything. But I'm happy for one reason: I like these fragments. No description, just minimum. Karl, Mina, Fifteen, stuff not succeed which vegetate in clairefontaine or word from the shit. I put up, but there will be no finality, no consistency (note that I seek not the abstract, I just leave a mess, as my Calbut in the lobby is the place of writing). Oh I feel the third world for a bit. But I lack the heart, friend. Summer
what. the vodka-mints rehash of countless shipwrecks eye by removing the butt of possibilities. say it like I'm progressing. hihi. Forgiveness.