Her disguised eyes spoke to me infidelities, simply a warning of what was to lay ahead. I crawled through the narrow path leading to the oasis carrying only my sanity. Hers was long gone, anchored deep below the red tide, whispering profanities as if the faults were mine. It was both ours to share, including the long weeks leading up to the tragedy. The direction her lips face, her body language, her lost desire for pleasure, even the outward positioning of her hands. I punched the air more than once to vent the frustration. It was of no use. The damage has been done, tonight something has to burn and someone's head has got to roll. 'Fuck you!' she yells at me, her eyes squint, full of rage, with desire to spit in my face. I could have slapped her there and then but I didn't. The little cunt thinks she can just manhandle me like that. I lost my footing for a short while, only realising that my hand is up in the air very much prepared to end her misery and mine once and...
It is very unfortunate that as I write this blog I realize there will possibly be no Season 2 of Spartacus Blood and Sand. It is, as well, very unfortunate to hear just this month that the star of the show Andy Whitfield was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma. This unwanted tragedy is all but merry for each and every man. Started watching this the day before and as much as I like this new series it is not without error. The pilot episode was one to blame. It was weak, cliched and at moments laughable. The performances were meh. It seemed only a sour reflection of its predecessors, Kubrick's Spartacus, Miller's 300 and HBO's Rome. The premise is not only a la 300 it is almost identical to it. It even has Peter Mensah, also known as Mr. "This is madness!". The fight scenes are fun and awesome but the gore makes you laugh which isn't really that much of a deal depending on your perception. But towards the latter episodes everything seemed to bear fruition to eff...
The sky tore its veil wide open, gasping, at the severe penalty of the accursed weather condition. 'I must not weep,' it cries. 'This pity party is never my most appealing trait.' Therefore he gave way for the ground to mature and thus making progress at the marvel of the greens. He stood on top overseeing the bounties its children may yet offer at the behest of the moon whose mischievous master ever burns brightly at the break of day. It gave way for life to flourish thus organisms began to roam the earth. Different species abound immediately at the development caused by the sky, and his pride bloomed even moreso, drawing more air into its cloudy bodies and helped sustained the new world around it. Like a nurturing mother whose task was to manifest love, it sparks its potential, hearken to their pious needs, and punishment for their indiscretions. Long lived harmony and prosperity. Burning for a reason to thrill, the sky willed itself to aim more higher in its desire ...
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