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AR60

Last seen: 4 hours ago

Alexandre is a 36 year old guy from A small town, France

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I like to sleep because I don't want to leave my dreams...................... Don't ask me to be your friend if you are not honest. I am not on SU to find love and certainly do not to flirt. I also hate people who try to play with others........................................................... Except these with the name of the author, the writings on my page are mine. And they are written for no one.......................................... If you use my writings, I just ask that you to add my name AR60 to them or you and your children will be damned for eternity.
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  • Created Dec 22

      Why the French accents are not accepted on SU ?

      Je réfléchis....ça mange
      la forêt... le zèbre.

      I try to report this problem on feedback, but it says My feedback can't send my message because there's a problem.


  • Утешение - Раздел ню -...

    Rated Dec 22 1 review photography photosight.ru

    Love makes me idiotic
    And makes me reflect
    About my words, about my choices
    And about my envies.

    Like the envy to see you naked.
    And to caress your reeds.
    To hold you in my arms
    Without making love.

    Love is soft, love is pure.
    But Love is just your reflection.
    A reflection which wears your scent.
    The alcohol of my soul.

    It has your tears when you cry.
    It has your smile when you laugh.
    Il is my shoulder to put your head.
    And my arms when you are cold.

    Love is nothing without you..


    @r60

    Image Source,Photobucket Uploader Firefox Extension

    L'amour me rend con
    Et me fait reflechir
    Sur mes mots, mes choix
    Et sur mes envies.

    Comme l'envie de te voir nue
    Et de caresser tes anches.
    De te serrer dans mes bras
    Sans te faire l'amour.

    L'amour est doux., l'amour est pure.
    Mais l'amour n'est que ton reflet.
    Un reflet qui porte ton parfum,
    L'alcool de mon ame.

    Il a tes larmes quand tu pleures.
    Il a ton sourire quand tu ris.
    Il est mon epaule pour poser ta tete.
    Et mes bras quand tu as froid.

    L'amour n'est rien sans toi.


    @r60
  • http://dcat.35photo.ru/photos/20080807/51434.jpg

    Rated Dec 19 2 reviews photography 35photo.ru



    The sky became dark
    Rotting the golden apple,
    Sad price of discord
    For the most beautiful one.

    The clouds were full of blood
    Of these crying vengeance
    And others defending their city
    For a woman and the honour.

    She hears the happy songs
    Of Trojan people about the gift
    Given by their 10 years enemies.
    But she cries because she knows.

    She knows the horse is poisoned.
    And tonight the citizens will swim
    In the blood and the fire.
    The city will be taken and raped

    To the name of the men's craziness.


    @r60
  • http://crephoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Al-Magnus5...

    Rated Dec 16 15 reviews photography crephoto.com

    Long time I travel.
    I followed the stars
    And toured the world
    To find my half-part.

    I saw some mysteries.
    I caressed the darkest mists.
    To break the ice
    Which lived in my heart.

    I navigated alone
    On some lakes of suffering.
    I lost my future
    And a part of my past.

    Long time I travel.
    I searched the moon's bed.
    But I still hope to find
    The sense of my life.


    @r60



    J'ai longtemps voyagé.
    J'ai suivi les étoiles
    Et parcouru le monde
    Pour chercher ma moitié.

    J'ai vu des mystères.
    J'ai caressé les plus noirs brouillards
    Pour rompre la glace
    Qui vivait en mon coeur.

    J'ai navigué seul
    Sur des lacs de souffrance
    J'ai perdu mon futur
    Et une partie de mon passé.

    J'ai longtemps voyagé
    J'ai cherché le lit de la lune
    Et j'espère encore trouver
    Le sens de ma vie.

    @r60
  • http://image.hinah.com/exhib/photo/elsaid/manipulation/ma...

    Rated Dec 13 2 reviews photography hinah.com

    A small rain of photos
    Falls in your bedroom.
    It greens the room
    But doesn't erase your dreams.

    Like the wallpaper's flowers,
    Your memories want to pull
    And feel the sun's warmth
    Until it breaks the walls.

    Behind you, a garden dwarf
    Fixed on you with his mocking eyes.
    He brags about being an actor
    And having toured the world..

    But you don't care prettily.
    You look at the cloud fly
    And you enjoy imagining
    This weather has a soft name...

    ...Melancholia


    @r60



    Une petite pluie de photos
    Tombe dans ta chambre..
    Elle verdit la pièce
    Mais n'efface pas tes rêves.

    Comme les fleurs du Papier-peint
    Tes souvenirs veulent sortir
    Et sentir la chaleur du soleil
    Jusqu'à craquer les murs.

    Derrière toi un nain de jardin
    Te fixe de son regard moqueur.
    Il se vante d'être acteur
    Et d'avoir fait le tour du monde.

    Mais tu t'en fou joliment.
    Tu regardes le nuage passer.
    Et tu t'amuses à imaginer
    Que ce temps porte un nom...

    ...La mélancolie.


    @r60
  • http://www.oneeyeland.com/photo4/portraits/photo15508.jpg

    Rated Dec 11 6 reviews photography oneeyeland.com

    To the beginning, there were the nil.
    An absolute black, sunk
    In a vacuum without bottom
    Without light, nor colour.

    Then a moon appeared.
    Smooth and soft like a baby.
    A sun born to brighten
    The lost souls of the dark.

    The moon drew a face.
    Perfect luminary with pearl eyes
    And a dreamer smile.
    Splinter of a star in the universe

    To the end, there are your lips.
    Harmonious and pink
    And your look telling a lot.
    And me, and nothing else.


    @r60



    Au début, il y avait le néant.
    Un noir absolu, sombré
    Dans un vide sans fond
    Sans lumière, ni couleur.

    Puis une lune apparut.
    Lisse et douce comme un bébé.
    Un soleil née pour éclairer
    Les âmes perdues dans le noir.

    De la lune se dessina un visage.
    Astre parfait aux yeux de perles
    Et au sourire rêveur;
    Eclat d'étoile dans l'univers.

    A la fin, il y a tes lèvres
    Harmonieuses et roses.
    Et ton regard qui dit beaucoup.
    Et moi, et rien d'autre.


    @r60
  • http://www.humorearth.com/galleries/1258482301/11.jpg

    Rated Dec 09 17 reviews books humorearth.com

    This is a book with yellow pages.
    A forgotten story
    Which smell good the old ink
    And the drug of the worn paper.

    This is a small boy
    Who finds an encyclopaedia,
    A reader in a garret
    Like we discover a secret.

    This is a small kid in a park.
    He plays with a kite.
    He laughs drawing some clouds,
    His eyes moist by happiness.

    This is the story of a child
    Who understands simple things
    To make and to read are the best
    And they bring the dream.

    This is my story, this is your story.

    @r60




    C'est un livre aux pages jaunies.
    Une histoire oubliée
    Qui sent bon l'encre vieillie
    Et la drogue du papier usé

    C'est un petit garçon
    Qui trouve une encyclopédie,
    Un recueil dans un grenier
    Comme on découvre un secret.

    C'est un petit garçon dans un parc.
    Il joue avec son cerf-volant.
    Il rit en dessinant des nuages,
    Les yeux mouillés par le bonheur.

    C'est l'histoire d'un enfant
    Qui comprend que des choses simples
    A faire et à lire sont les plus belles
    Et qu'elles apportent le rêve..

    C'est mon histoire, c'est votre histoire.


    @r60