The Tawnee Stone Collection

my spine, casus belli. Schizophrenia Part 1

I have about 33 vertebrae, realistic complex constructions are inflected towards existentialism, to a wrongly considered divine essence. They dance to the rhythm of vital movement that stirs us from one extreme to another, no longer a swing, a children's game to be a vital war feelings, a romantic tragicomedy that is life in general areas happy.

The spinal cord tells a balance that makes a non-existent so sweet tickle declined in a sharp but sweet cough inhospitable and other unusual animals fantásticos.Es woes certainly the closest to the land of stars, clouds and a huge moon that dispenses to be vassal of the sun. Agile and elusive digs his fingernails puncturing nerves bristle-shaped flowers feelings on the skin. The spinous process not away from direct contact with the world.

The world becomes a vertebral body chord piano melodic and well structured. The cervical vertebrae to the imagination claim objective of switching to blow finger the world. The chest is abandoned to the sweetness, peace, thinking of what realistic glimpse into the shadows. The lumbar are cautious, they bear the weight of the hair when it is swung through the air with a name, it is curious that the hair or the slashing. They are always eager to escape one night and swim in the sea, to be irresponsible, want to stop at the bottom encajar.Pero know that this is their place and accept submissive to rebel soul. Waiting times to expose their feelings. The latter are the animal of any human being, living in total alienation, eternal slumber by their higher nature, their eternal winter at his sense of wrong.


Cold vertebral sharpens wit, while the intervertebral space hidden secrets which show slowly and as the stem of a plant without flowers, small leaves can be glimpsed drawn with the index finger.


I know, you should tell the doctor, but I'm still something funky.