emilalves

the Unsafe Table    -   Emil Alves Andreasson


yes... lets be safe for now.
forsaken kids dancing on the table!   cried Bartalomeo in a small voice.
he had just been bitten by the snake of anger and had his foot in his ass.
and there he was in the middle of a jamaican birthday party wearing nothing but his own skin and a not so dry napkin.
- NOO! I BORROWED IT FOR MY NEESE!
he screamed with a strong sence of actually not giving a shait about the situation. this whould later have his elbow in a 5% cake with a backround unknown to the civilized man.
the trumphets where screaming with anger towards the living flesh of his Beef stake, now everything was at stake. he had untill resentley before he got this job to put the keys to a aston martin 1969 on the table in the dangerous casino for gentlemen and their partners in witch they lay with. and he lost that table to the man on the right with the beard that disobayed the laws of physics and flew upwards.

 

up-lars

Bartalomeo was interupted by the touch of a elderly Painted Afrikan who stood in the count of four others.
- Sehr yhour stake is ghetting cohld.
AAAAAH!!..... thank you.
:
a few minuts later he realized that he Screamed at the Painted Afrika.
failing was not a option so he quickley bowed down and opend the door,
- God Damn Rats, were gonna need som golf shoose if where gonna walk in this mud.
:
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afrika
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then he sat down again but this time it was differet, he suddenly felt a very safe feeling. everything expanded, the bred on the table bacame a giant.
- PLATOONA MAJOR!!
-PLATOONA MAJOR!!!
: he yelled
- PLATOONA MAJOR!!
out came a spanich castle rolling along the floor boards,
:yes what is it misser?
- This Table is Very Unsafe.
he thought to him self - what is this drug? am i in a koma or am i just sleeping? am i obduckted by Aliens?
:hello misser?
Ignore this terrible drug.
: hello? do want a me to fix?
he snapped out of it and studderd.    - y,yes -
the little slightly brown collored woman bent down, he felt as if a strong wind was trying to pull him into her streching ass hole.
the spanior folded some kind of device and stuck it under the tree of the unsafe table..


it was after that day that he never sat at a Unsafe Table until recentley.

the Unsafe Table - By: Emil Alves Andreasson

- i sapose you want me to write something that you do not fully understand...  and do you perhaps want me to sitck some strange symbols in between the lines.
:
:
:
:
: but to be honest to you

i just don't mind.

the rich mans son was later relezed from the cold and in to the light but not to tell about what he had seen.

ömtålig
small
fragile
ytlig
anoying
sadness
hate
pathetic
remorse

regret
wonder
Pain

 

 I Don't mind
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5tnMvv2xsM&list=PL0A6666441B5E36A4&index=17
 this morning.

 

as a wise person said
:by that implying it is a woman.
- fish in the see you know how i feel, birds in the sky you know how i feel,

and im feeling good.
 

i have finally walked over the hill, how ever im still climbing the mountain.

but ill get there, it has been a painfull journey, over the open seas with only one fish.
and finding a end to the skys with only one bird.

 

following it in the lands of sorrow.
thank you for the amaizing experience

 

ill buy buy you a dimond.
he he he hey hey hahahha!
da,da,da,da damdaramm,
some times i don't know what in this world to do.
i don't wanna hurt youre feelings little girl.
but i hate you so...
:
:
:
HA!
that kind of stole the mood.
:
no it didnt
:
well it did for me with the way i say it.

this is how i feel right now.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwXai-sgM-s&list=PL2F351F770A2449AE&playnext=1&feature=autoplay

and very mutch like the intro in this song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFqPMzFV5fM

but no other can explain more acure† then this peace of madness
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5f4Z8FsaNto&list=PL0A6666441B5E36A4

YES! i advise you to listen to the whole thing. it has some more music parts for thouse not from the same planet as i. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? of cars you don't..
:

this perhaps 

A little boy - Emil Alves Andreasson

 

 

a little boy was lost in the woods, the only thing he had to enjoy was his fantacy. he had friends but he mostley spent time on his own.

in his own.

this boy had his own world you see, where he clould do what ever he wanted, things where different there. he wasn't a little boy there, he was a weird figure. not a grown-up, not a child. he was something in between. he had schoose that were at least five sizes to big. and a suit worn down to the bone with paches of fabric stiched to it so that it chould cover up all the holes. the clothes where sometimes orange, sometimes blue and with all kinds of different patterns. they changed depending on the mood of the charecter or surrounding. if he was lost in the forrest or sneeking up on some badguys it whould turn green. moss, bark and mushroomes whould grow out on his back. and the coat that had pockets with no end. any thing he whould need was there. and there was allways candy and metall pipes sticking out everywhere, he had horoskopes, morrors, swords, bow and arrows, napkins that chould tell what weather it was going to be depending on its color. he had different powders he chould trow on things and stuff would happen like taking him to other places, at least five clocks on each arm,
he had a large birthmark between his eyes to. i still have it today but you can't see it as well and it was bigger on him. he chould hipnotize people by making the birthmark in to a black and white twirl, going round and round.

i do not remember when he died.

dont remember why.

 

how ever i often walk in the same school yard where i whould play at that age.
:
but i don't recognize it.
the trees are not giant and pink, the bushes are small and does not fit a dinosaures. the srange think noises are not there. and the forrest is just a cuople of treese and bushes

my old friend is not there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

today i am still that little boy,


but i don't get lost in the forrest so easily anymore.                            
A little boy - Emil Alves Andreasson

i remember the old days.
i chouldn't get enough.
:

now i have had enough.

 

i just do not want to keep rabbeling on about this.
i hate to rabble about it.
:
but still.. every sigle day i think about it, mostley how much i hate it.

but there are still times i go back into the old days.