Best Vacuum Frieze Long Shag Carpet

Blue income, violence-free wind Gentillet playing with hair without upsetting carcass, the light that sculpts and ennobled, to give me fall in love with this game of volume and color

and even the shady sides were bursting with oblique light playing on the branches, dead wood being a gem.

Or simply, a small inner joy that I walked with me, giving me a look benevolent.

Yoghurts have found a supplement that I was severely delayed.

And after dinner hearty appetite, one afternoon of blissful contemplation of nothing, stones, my plants strongly reluctant to relive some of which are likely familiar skeletons few buds, and reading.

Nothing else, except swab, and sieston, and I repeat my attempt to contribute a little perplexed, since I do not dream, or do not remember, or do not dream as it should, even if Francois Bon specified although Nor was one to tell, at night, Thursday, BU Angers http://www.tierslivre.net/spip/spip.php?article2431 - good c ' is what is

In sleep I am dead. I am not, and am nowhere.

In the overseas sleep I'm in the indeterminate time - and not sure what I am, just an ego that floats - a desire for consciousness in a marine cloud.

Envy and fear of getting out. And with a neutral light (no doubt familiar) and a body that is born at the same time. Remain without it nothing more - rejected the notion of obligation comes not yet - in a light filter, a block of solid air, like an opal increasingly dark to be limited by walls. A place that is not.

Search in touch, find out where the soil is and how it is held. Since the idea is, that's what it takes, and make the grain of the wood lit, hard shiny satin, a corner table and a lamp.

But in the day, sometimes easier if aid fatigue, the wall of the courtyard in front of my eyes, with its shady rocks and the blue above, is a city street that suits me, I will find that maybe one day with a fright you and haggard - or beach or sea or a mixture of both, and leaves shining softly, and then the slope, and the water closes over. But in the film bursting bright cloud fringed, white and gold at the base, which may be really, I mean enlightenment, above the wall. And it becomes wall, mossy view from the small scrub oak.

But, truly, I do not dream. Never, or do not remember.

I'm not always in reality either.