helios-two

[helios-two]

[helios-two]

Ok so apparently the girls went out for tinis and bruschetta without me

[helios-two]

I hate the met galla. None of those people are important to me. My horsey is important to me.

[helios-two]

it’s crazy how much you can read if you read

[helios-two]

le miserable. there's just one of him

[helios-two]

marriage before thirties is so insane because you're barely a person yet

[helios-two]

maybe i shouldn’t respond to wrong number texts any more

[helios-two]

i think benny gecko is a devout catholic but in the same way that illiterate medieval peasants were where they couldnt read the bible and couldnt really understand the latin mass but stilll kinda got the gist through the paintings and stain glass modaics

[helios-two]

a montage is kind of like a videographical collage

[helios-two]

[helios-two]

[helios-two]

So do you think anybody is going acknowledge that Hind Rajab should have been celebrating her 7th birthday today with her family? Do you think anybody is going to acknowledge that?

[helios-two]

i just pressed the new button

[helios-two]

this will be real in 2012

[helios-two]

There she was, with legs longer than the 20th century. Her blood-red silk dress, made by the raw goods, factories and logistics of a dozen countries, barely covered her unexpected curves. She lit a cigarette, shining with the dull red of a hundred revolutions.

Francis Fukuyama nearly fell from the chair he himself had made when he saw her coming in. He knew he should have locked that door. But he also knew she would come back. She would always be back. It was just a matter, like anything else on his profession, of time.

"History?" he asked, trying to sound academic, with a gasp almost escaping his throat when he smelled the smoke of ashes yet to settle.

"Oh, you recognized me, darling..." she smirked, as she walked towards him, her body flowing like a dialectical contradiction.

"I... I... thought we were done." Fukuyama stammered, sweat dripping from his forehead, his sociocultural paradigm failing faster than his composure.

"Oh, honey..." History purred with a voice husky from a thousand discourses... "We are done when I say we are done."