tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-113299632024-03-13T04:59:57.155-07:00A little storyBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-26972446576809704472008-10-28T06:43:00.000-07:002008-10-28T06:51:39.995-07:00Who is to blame?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cache.gawker.com/assets/resources/2008/04/moron.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 241px;" src="http://cache.gawker.com/assets/resources/2008/04/moron.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">There are five things in a persons life which define him:<br />1. DNA<br />2. Social environment<br />3. The sun<br />4. The moon<br />5. Idiots around him<br /><br />No. 5 is not included in No. 2. since I do not count idiots as part of the social environment - call me an idealist!! </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">But if I do not include the idiots in the social environment .... what is there left? Very little, very very little ...<br /><br /></span></span>Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-14158702844469544172008-10-22T08:47:00.000-07:002008-10-22T08:53:29.262-07:00DownChilly is the word today, and the tears are dripping from the cough.Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-57748633700163029212008-10-20T04:00:00.000-07:002008-10-20T04:22:39.656-07:00YesSo... Where is Faluk? It is still here ... a bit angry, a bit happy, a bit numb ... every morning...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>: Hello mirror, how destroyed you look today<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk: </span>You are not that brilliant either!!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk: </span>Well I didn't have much sleep last night ...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk:</span>YesBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-78905824154407071972006-11-21T07:09:00.000-08:002008-10-22T08:53:13.310-07:00Departing......And so Faluk decided to depart from the mystical world of hisBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1163775933405754992006-11-17T06:56:00.000-08:002006-11-17T07:05:33.483-08:00Satori<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.kevinwolf.com/images/Cubist%20Still%20Life%20Lichtenstein.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.kevinwolf.com/images/Cubist%20Still%20Life%20Lichtenstein.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />It has been a while since Faluk had the courage to put his nose into the <span style="font-weight: bold;">REAL WORLD</span>.<br />His face is a little sadder than it used to be, and he is much more mature than he used to be.<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />-<br />He realised he is not rational at all, his rationality is only very <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >small</span><br /> part of his being. This is kind of weird.. So his poem writing needs came back to life.. and this is the result.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">There are papers in front of me,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">and the music</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">brightens the day, a little bit.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div>Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1142330751494966352006-03-14T01:49:00.000-08:002006-03-14T02:05:51.506-08:00Watches and clocks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fla-keys.com/news/images/Sculpture2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.fla-keys.com/news/images/Sculpture2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />What is time? It is very hard to define time! The thing which makes people become older, uglier and eventually dead. The thing that makes people live, move and sometimes even makes them wiser. It is the thing that makes us fall and laugh and cry, but we cannot define it. It is a very Thingish thing - like a very wise bear by the name of Pooh would say. It is the driving wave of the Universe, the completely destructive force of nature, driving us all to insanity and premature death. But when I sit down in the evening, with a smile on my face, I have a feeling that time is not bad at all ... it simply dissapears when you stop thinking about it ...Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1142242614988015542006-03-13T01:33:00.000-08:002006-03-13T01:41:08.496-08:00What a difference a day makes...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/1600/degas_beside_flowers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/320/degas_beside_flowers.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />... 24 little hours<br />... brought the sun and the flowers<br />... where there used to be rain<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Love</span> the song ... simple but to the pointBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1136540152243304802006-01-06T01:25:00.000-08:002006-01-06T01:36:43.136-08:00Happy everything...Allow me to start with a small scream:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAGFGSDAASAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!</span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Thank you!<br /><br /><br />Christmas and New Year celebrations are supposed to be full of joy, expectations, love, good food, smiles, light, friendship.<br />But not always... sometimes they can be horrible. And I am not talking horrible like in the movies, where everything goes wrong in the most stupid of all manners. Like your horrible relatives come to visit, you chase some imbecil presents for your children, etc. etc. This is bulls***.<br />I am talking about a nightmare, when a person very close to you is very very close to dying....<br />So my wish to everyone, even to the people that I do not like, is that may they never go through anything like the nightmare I went through. Ever!<br /><br />What a strange world.<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span>Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1134661829834233932005-12-15T07:26:00.000-08:002005-12-15T07:50:29.860-08:00Sweat(er), child of mine II<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bookweb.kinokuniya.co.jp/bimgdata/FC0385498543.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://bookweb.kinokuniya.co.jp/bimgdata/FC0385498543.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />... and so <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>entered the store saw a sweater bought the sweater ran out stopped for a second to get some air ran 500 metres took another deep breath sat down on the floor looked around to see any pretty girls stood up saw a nice blond women and another redhead ran to his house took his keys unlocked the door opened the door threw the bag with the sweater on the couch kneeled on his new carpet stood up went to the kitchen opened the fridge grabbed a nice can of cool beer closed the fridge went back to the living room sat down on the couch opened the bag with the sweater put on the sweater opened the can of beer made a sip and feel all right....Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1134462357122684582005-12-12T23:59:00.000-08:002005-12-13T00:27:46.366-08:00Sweat(er), child of mine<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/1600/sweaterill2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/320/sweaterill2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />"Never say never," said <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> this morning, when the wind was throwing tons of snow into his face.<br /><br />"And I have to choose the worst possible day to make my decision!!!!" Yes, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> was really mad. I guess you would like to know where he is going? Well, he is going to buy himself a new sweater.<br /><br />For years and years and years he wore the same old sweater, occasionally even washing it. But i guess this habit made him a little bit anti-social, and people were avoiding him because of the special "aroma" that surrounded him. But <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>is not the type of the person that notices such things, so this was not a big problem for him.<br /><br /><br />But today is a special day... After years and years and years of the same old sweater, he decided to make a very bold action and get rid of the old, wrinkled, stinky, smelly, dirty sweater.<br /><br />And where do you find the sweaters that would be just perfect for <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>? In just about any store that sells any kind of sweaters. We could say that <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> is not searching for a very special sweater, or a sweater that would fit him. He would buy anything, as long as he does not have to spend more that 45 sec in a store.<br /><br />And, while the wind was blowing into his face.... he entered THE STORE....<br /><br />TO BE CONTINUED.....<br /><br />NOTE: The super image was taken from <a href="http://www.fcasd.edu/schools/dms/adventure04/period9/sweater.html">the greatest story by Derek</a>.Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1133997705170554692005-12-07T15:12:00.000-08:002005-12-08T01:57:02.986-08:00God is dead, long live godA glass of alcohol, and a nice tune to go in your head. This is heaven, heaven for the lonely hearted. And a warm embrace of the ghostly past, and memories leaking from your eyes.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"For believe me: the secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and greatest enjoyment is - to live dangerously."</span><br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> Friedrich Nietzsche</span><br /><br />How very true this statement is...Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1133961676662226912005-12-07T04:46:00.000-08:002005-12-07T05:21:16.676-08:00Writing a silly poem<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>There are some days when <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> feels a little bit artistic. And today is one of them. But as you might have noticed, his talent is a little bit weak. But that does not stop him from trying. And this is a very possitive thing about <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>. Never gets scared in front of a challenge.<br /> The challenge for today is writing a simple little poem, and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> wrote these lines:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">When<span style="font-weight: bold;">...</span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />When the morning is a stubborn mule<br />your eyes like the dark<br />and your body does not like to rule<br />it leaves the dreams to make the mark.<br /><br />When the days are dry as dust<br />your mind just floats<br />and your joints are filled with rust<br />there is no need to take the notes.<br /><br />When the night reveals its light<br />your legs want to fly<br />and the head is not so bright<br />not the time to show you're shy.<br /><br /></span></div>Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1133882177792245912005-12-06T07:08:00.000-08:002005-12-06T07:16:17.810-08:00E equals m times c squared or let us make some noise<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/1600/Einstein.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/320/Einstein.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Dear <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>,<br />this is the beloved world of non-fantasy writing to inform you about the situation here.<br />In general it is quite fine to live, but there are some complete maniacs which are trying hard to destroy everything and everybody.<br />A quick and easy way to die is to piss some of those idots... and believe me... it is very simple to piss off a mentally challenged person, who has his fingers on a big red button.<br /><br />Kind regards,<br />EarthBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1133784161999171232005-12-05T03:50:00.000-08:002005-12-05T04:02:57.243-08:00Mistery of rain<span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> likes the rain... sometimes. And sometimes he hates it. He hates it when there is too much of it. And now it is definitely too much.<br /><br />The water is entering everything and everybody, and this water is not the fluid of life, but it is more the fluid of death.<br /><br />Humidity makes people bad, so bad it is almost crazy. The look in their eyes changes, the voice changes, the breathing changes, the color of their skin changes.<br />The world becomes Dantes dream - the Inferno.<br /><br />Not like when the sun is out there and there are smiles everywhere. That world is far away when it rains. Maybe it does not exist... <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> doubts it.<br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>Obscuris vera involvens....Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1133439318834665052005-12-01T04:07:00.000-08:002005-12-01T04:52:56.250-08:00Where have you been Faluk?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/1600/fluk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3742/374/320/fluk.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> was dreaming like never before. This is the reason for his absence. Many things have changed in his head and we could say that he has also grown up.<br /><br />This happenes sooner or later.. the inevitable destiny is taking us down... Where is it talking us?<br /><br />Do you know the answer <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>?<br />I thought so! You know many things, but this is the question where all the logic and all the knowledge of the world ends.<br />There are MANY MANY people who claim to have an answer to THE question....<br />The most brave people admit they do not have an answer and they will probably never get it.<br /><br />Dream on...Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1121264123556313372005-07-13T07:12:00.000-07:002005-07-13T07:15:37.170-07:00Interesting<a href='http://flickr.com/photos/18571723@N00/3384867/' id='fs_1' title='F'><img alt='F' border='0' src='http://photos1.flickr.com/3384867_62968ffba8_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/96089321@N00/19270522/' id='fs_2' title=''><img alt='' border='0' src='http://photos13.flickr.com/19270522_73add5ca08_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/89826592@N00/14975571/' id='fs_3' title='Letter L'><img alt='Letter L' border='0' src='http://photos13.flickr.com/14975571_0e7e01838e_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/34817627804@N01/3569103/' id='fs_4' title='U'><img alt='U' border='0' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3569103_450b5b979b_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/16506905@N00/3392279/' id='fs_5' title='K'><img alt='K' border='0' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3392279_40e90a9d59_t.jpg' /></a><br /><br /><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/87097460@N00/4673262/' id='fs_1' title='tile g'><img alt='tile g' border='0' src='http://photos3.flickr.com/4673262_7fec771ad1_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/49968232@N00/19489030/' id='fs_2' title='sign monoprix O'><img alt='sign monoprix O' border='0' src='http://photos17.flickr.com/19489030_941e1673cd_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/33046913@N00/11181828/' id='fs_3' title='N'><img alt='N' border='0' src='http://photos8.flickr.com/11181828_f646d55ec6_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/49968232@N00/20290409/' id='fs_4' title='E'><img alt='E' border='0' src='http://photos15.flickr.com/20290409_6e1b1e3196_t.jpg' /></a><br /><br /><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/23391488@N00/350845/' id='fs_1' title='...\"T\"'><img alt='...\"T\"' border='0' src='http://photos1.flickr.com/350845_3af89df2b4_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/61563509@N00/3491184/' id='fs_2' title='o'><img alt='o' border='0' src='http://photos2.flickr.com/3491184_aa92ca25f1_t.jpg' /></a><br /><br /><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/19078881@N00/10903180/' id='fs_1' title='A'><img alt='A' border='0' src='http://photos8.flickr.com/10903180_70a666f208_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/49968232@N00/7971425/' id='fs_3' title='W'><img alt='W' border='0' src='http://photos7.flickr.com/7971425_01a27a761c_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/37613229@N00/4060454/' id='fs_4' title='Beans'><img alt='Beans' border='0' src='http://photos4.flickr.com/4060454_fd11bb74fe_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/58607761@N00/3917467/' id='fs_5' title='oe'><img alt='oe' border='0' src='http://photos3.flickr.com/3917467_54d58e5757_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/18619970@N00/6038372/' id='fs_6' title='R'><img alt='R' border='0' src='http://photos6.flickr.com/6038372_74a0779f44_t.jpg' /></a><a href='http://flickr.com/photos/49968232@N00/9146673/' id='fs_7' title='E'><img alt='E' border='0' src='http://photos5.flickr.com/9146673_237659df6d_t.jpg' /></a>Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1119271650505856682005-06-20T05:40:00.000-07:002005-06-20T05:52:03.120-07:00A headacheFaluk has a great headache today. That made him think about pain. If Faluk describes that he has a headache, why does everybody say: "Ah, that really sucks...." How do they know what Faluk is feeling? Maybe it is not such a big thing at all? When somebody describes their pain we immediately try to feel it...<br /><br />Faluk hates pain, really. As everybody in the world. But Faluk doubts that pain is a universal truth... the thing that makes us individuals is also the pain<br /><br />Auch... pain again<br /><br /> <img width = 200 src="http://users.ox.ac.uk/~some1395/Strasbourg2003/Maarten%20in%20pain.jpg" />Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1118819179425303582005-06-14T23:54:00.000-07:002005-06-15T00:06:19.430-07:00A rainy dayIt is a rainy day today and Faluk doesn't own an umbrella. <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">We could say it is a blue day. <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But blue days can be fun, also without an umbrella. Faluk stayed in the house the whole day, thinking about </span></span>beautiful things.<br /><br />And the clounds were white, and the tires are black. The sky is purple and the birds are yellow. The silent roaring of solitude in the proximity of the ears of a prostitute. What is wrong today? It must be the rain....<br /><br />Make it stop!<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"></span>Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1118409235268617432005-06-10T06:13:00.000-07:002005-06-10T06:13:55.273-07:00<a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/5/4002/640/FalukArt.jpg'><img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/5/4002/400/FalukArt.jpg'></a><br />Faluk draw this today, because he is so happy. He is convinced that it's a work of art. Oh, Faluk!! You should do better... not every doodle is a work of art.. Rather stick to your dreamingBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1118407960090789012005-06-10T05:44:00.000-07:002005-06-10T05:52:40.093-07:00Faluk is a happy boyThere was something about this day that really cheered Faluk. He still does not know what it was, but it definitely was something. Maybe it was the sun... or the smile of a REALLY beautiful girl he saw in the morning... or the small curly clouds sailing on the clear sky... or maybe because he felt there is a purpose to all of this, what we call life (in general).<br /><br />Yes... being happy is nice... and Faluk will try to be happy tomorrow as well.<br /><br />Why don't you find that girl and tell her that she has a really nice smile? I bet you will do that if you ever see her again.<br /><br />See you around, FalukBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1110825510134607412005-03-14T10:27:00.000-08:002005-03-14T10:52:56.870-08:00Faluk goes to the mountains<span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>found an old pair of mountaneering shoes in his closet. So he decided to give them a test drive. He dug out of the same closet a dusty knapsack, made himself a big sandwich, and took a deep breath.<br />When he came out of his house, he turned around to choose a suitable hill for his adventure. The nicest hill was a little lump, about 500 metres from where he was standing.<br />After a short meditation he decided that the final goal of his journey is UP THERE.<br /><br />Being a young and healthy guy, he souldn't have problems with this walk. But unfortunately that was not so easy.<br /><br />The sun was VERY strong and there was not much air. So <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> was breathing like an old train trying to remain on his feet.<br /><br />But when he finally reached the top all the suffering was forgotten.<br />The view was glorious. He could see how small his little house is and how irrelevant his problems are.<br />With a smile on his face, he sat down and ate the yummy sandwich.<br /><br />Have a nice way back <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk. </span>Be careful...Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1110537709736266382005-03-11T02:33:00.000-08:002005-03-11T02:41:49.736-08:00the 11th11 (eleven) is a very important number. And <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>knows that. It is a prime number. And prime numbers are special.<br /><br />Today (11th of March), <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> has found a new problem to occupy him mind.<br />Is there another prime number (besides 11) that has all the digits equal (e.g. 55, 2222, 7777, 1111). As it can be noticed all the numbers with digits larger than one are obviously not prime. So all we have to do is to check all the numbers with just 1s. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>has already found the answer with the help of his little enemy - THE COMPUTER.<br /><br />Good for you <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>, it is not a solution that will solve the world, but I guess it must be fun.Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1110444360780527192005-03-10T00:20:00.000-08:002005-03-10T00:46:00.796-08:00The next dayThis morning <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> woke up into a rainy morning with a pinch of snow. He smiled, put on his green trousers and red t-shirt, and walked to the kitchen to have some breakfast.<br /><br />In the kitchen there was his friend, a pink elephant named <span style="font-style: italic;">Wally, </span>who was desperately waiting for <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>to wake up.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk: </span>"<span style="font-style: italic;">What is wrong.</span>"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Wally: </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Well, where should I start?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">F</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">aluk:</span> "<span style="font-style: italic;">Usually it is good, if you start at the beginning. And please speak fast, because I am quite hungry.</span>"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Wally:</span></span> "<span style="font-style: italic;">The thing is that ...</span>" (looks sadly to the ceiling with tears in his eyes) "<span style="font-style: italic;">oh, nevermind...</span>"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Faluk: </span></span>"<span style="font-style: italic;">No, no! You are not going to get away with it! Now you got me interested.</span>"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wally: </span>"<span style="font-style: italic;">I came to ask you a BIG favour.</span>"<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk: </span>"</span>I have no money left, my friend, I spent it all on ... hedonism<span style="font-style: italic;">"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Wally: </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;">"</span></span>I see. Oh, it was worth to try. I am running now.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Faluk: </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;">"</span></span></span></span>Have a nice day. A big hug to your wife Dolly.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wally: </span>"</span></span></span></span>Thanks, pleasant day to you too.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span>This was the most exciting thing that happened to <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>today. After the meeting with <span style="font-style: italic;">Wally </span>he had a nice and healthy breakfast, and read the morning news. The news were mostly sad, so he stopped reading and watched the birds for a while. The birds are very happy today. So is <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>.Baltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11329963.post-1110358181882247982005-03-09T00:37:00.000-08:002005-03-09T00:49:41.883-08:00The begginingThis is a story about a little boy called <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>. This boy lives in somebody's brain. But sometimes pops out and lives in the actions of his creator.<br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk </span>is not a nice little boy and he is also not an evil little boy. He is a blond boy with green eyes, usually wearing a red T-shirt and green trousers. Nobody knows if the trousers have always been green or they became of that colour after years of torture.<br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span> has many things to do. Sleep, eat, relax, dream, dream some more, play, shout, sing, dance. That is why he is very often unreachable. But when he is around, people want to sing, dance, dream, sleep and have fun.<br /> Yes, this is <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>. And much much more. But maybe he will tell us something more about him a little bit later. Now he is very busy dreaming, and after that he has an appointement with some people. They will have a relax and shout meeting.<br /><br /> Bye <span style="font-weight: bold;">Faluk</span>, have a great meetingBaltazarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01642077732004109628noreply@blogger.com0