Subject: Re: See me. Be me.
Bok,
cuj, jel' ti mozda znas hrvatski?
Marija
<marijavlahovic@hotmail.com>
6 Mar 2002 11:03:29
6 Mar 2002 11:03:29
<makilawagner@hotmail.com>
6 Mar 2002 01:03:15
6 Mar 2002 01:03:15
Subject: Re: answer me!!!(i love u) and this isnt a viruse!!!!!!!
uummm who the hell are you and how old are you?? is this a joke or what??
>From: David Still <david@davidstill.org>
>he mak! y wont u write me back i have been waiting for u to but u bever have....did i do something wrong? i hope u do know that i love u a lot and i think the world of u and i wish i could be with u rite now..... i take it u dont remember our internet conversations!!! too bad.... i really love u though....
>with love xo xo xo xo xo xo xo xo xo
Subject:
The game you allude to, I have played before. Today, I know I don't enjoy hurting people. This is not just because I now know that good begets good, but because I want my soul, body and mind to be free and clean. I will never betray another lover, even if it were you. You don't deserve
that. Don't try to absolve yourself by placing the guilt on me. I'll not have it.
If these missives reflect who you are, so be it and bless you. If this is some dirty game (which I don't believe) then do your penance and end it. I offer friendship alone or that and more, but don't play with me.
I will wait and nurture ONE true love, be it animi or animus.
At 12:59 AM 3/6/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>and sitting here thinking i finally realize.
>you have more lovers than just i.
>your heart's red tentacles eating us alive.
>and all these thoughts i pour out to you, you
>gobble and devour...greedy for more...
>i feel crumbled and scrunched up in your hand.
>hastily devouring...hastily discarding.
>but my shell is always ready to be a home again.
>pebble.
that. Don't try to absolve yourself by placing the guilt on me. I'll not have it.
If these missives reflect who you are, so be it and bless you. If this is some dirty game (which I don't believe) then do your penance and end it. I offer friendship alone or that and more, but don't play with me.
I will wait and nurture ONE true love, be it animi or animus.
At 12:59 AM 3/6/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>and sitting here thinking i finally realize.
>you have more lovers than just i.
>your heart's red tentacles eating us alive.
>and all these thoughts i pour out to you, you
>gobble and devour...greedy for more...
>i feel crumbled and scrunched up in your hand.
>hastily devouring...hastily discarding.
>but my shell is always ready to be a home again.
>pebble.
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
6 Mar 2002 01:03:54
6 Mar 2002 01:03:54
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
6 Mar 2002 01:03:47
6 Mar 2002 01:03:47
Subject: Knew Me
I'm sorry you started this. Perhaps next time you'll thing about the anger you now feel before you embark on a frivolous play on someone's emotions. Our goal at a University is to learn how to handle information and power judiciously, wisely.
You knew who I was before you began this charade. That information was not passed onto you to facilitate your game, rather friendship without lust. Return the key, you can't return the knowledge. Perhaps you don't need friends.
Basically I thin you a kind person, learn to use your intellect and power for good.
At 12:16 AM 3/6/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>okay this is getting rather old. . .
You knew who I was before you began this charade. That information was not passed onto you to facilitate your game, rather friendship without lust. Return the key, you can't return the knowledge. Perhaps you don't need friends.
Basically I thin you a kind person, learn to use your intellect and power for good.
At 12:16 AM 3/6/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>okay this is getting rather old. . .
Subject: please act quickly
e
emmanuel kalibah
emmanuel kalibah6 Mar 2002 00:03:39
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 23:03:52
5 Mar 2002 23:03:52
Subject: Know Me
Yes you're right, I can never say that I know you. I can only say that I know other men like you. I know others who have dreamt and played as you do. I am one such person. I don't know you well, but I cannot be wrong about all of you. I know you as I have know many others like you, and me. One can not think evil unless evil be apart of them. One cannot
conjure love sans some love in your heart. You can't be something you are not. Not even on paper or as ions in space.
~B~
At 11:38 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>i worry that you misunderstand. yet at the same time, misunderstandings make for such potent digressions... as my shape emerges in your mind, you are trying to allow me to be who i am... yet seeing me as i am not. is my being so nebulous to you? who is this person for whom you feel such love? on fear i nightly sup, dark swirling energy for flavoring midnight dreams. promises? what a dirty word. nebulous. perhaps you imagine you know me much more than you really do.
>pebble.
conjure love sans some love in your heart. You can't be something you are not. Not even on paper or as ions in space.
~B~
At 11:38 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>i worry that you misunderstand. yet at the same time, misunderstandings make for such potent digressions... as my shape emerges in your mind, you are trying to allow me to be who i am... yet seeing me as i am not. is my being so nebulous to you? who is this person for whom you feel such love? on fear i nightly sup, dark swirling energy for flavoring midnight dreams. promises? what a dirty word. nebulous. perhaps you imagine you know me much more than you really do.
>pebble.
Subject: Last
pebble....tom, dick, harry,
what does it matter,
dreams are dreams until
we act.
you told me
who you are,
remember?
when first
I did not bite,
you said.....
but what does
it matter,
actions speak louder than words
~B~
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 23:03:34
5 Mar 2002 23:03:34
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 22:03:27
5 Mar 2002 22:03:27
Subject: No fear
There is no need to fear.
We may end
OR begin,
as if we were friends
for I too have been frozen
with fear.
Don't hate me for who you know me to be.
simply understand that there is love in me
for you whenever you can. This part of you which
you now deny, let it be, let it be,
let it be in earnest and you will see,
that loves great promise will fall unto thee.
At 09:44 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>i do not know what to say. these are not my words and not my thoughts.
>i am as simple as ever.
>i do not know what to say.
>i tell you, you must be weary of the imposter.
>don't mistrust who you believe me to be.
>pebble.
>from here forth :debarra6@yahoo.com
We may end
OR begin,
as if we were friends
for I too have been frozen
with fear.
Don't hate me for who you know me to be.
simply understand that there is love in me
for you whenever you can. This part of you which
you now deny, let it be, let it be,
let it be in earnest and you will see,
that loves great promise will fall unto thee.
At 09:44 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>i do not know what to say. these are not my words and not my thoughts.
>i am as simple as ever.
>i do not know what to say.
>i tell you, you must be weary of the imposter.
>don't mistrust who you believe me to be.
>pebble.
>from here forth :debarra6@yahoo.com
Subject: Anger
Dear mischievous pebble -
Do you strive to hurt?
or are you just afraid?
At 09:05 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>http://www.geocities.com/portraitoftheartistasahomepage/4890.htm
Do you strive to hurt?
or are you just afraid?
At 09:05 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>http://www.geocities.com/portraitoftheartistasahomepage/4890.htm
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 21:03:18
5 Mar 2002 21:03:18
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 21:03:09
5 Mar 2002 21:03:09
Subject: Memories
pebble -
Let the romance begin,
with wine, song and our secrets breathing.
Passion for one another
brought to fruition.
Let what we want be true.
Remember, Mexico is but a few miles
from a saintly city
where once men were exiles.
Might we be so bold,
as to meet again in April
to renew our consummation bold.
Until then let's
season our lances
with unbridled advances.
Yours always,
~B~
At 07:00 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>these must be our memories.
>...memories of everything we want to be true.
>pebble.
Let the romance begin,
with wine, song and our secrets breathing.
Passion for one another
brought to fruition.
Let what we want be true.
Remember, Mexico is but a few miles
from a saintly city
where once men were exiles.
Might we be so bold,
as to meet again in April
to renew our consummation bold.
Until then let's
season our lances
with unbridled advances.
Yours always,
~B~
At 07:00 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>these must be our memories.
>...memories of everything we want to be true.
>pebble.
Subject: Re: Psalms
Dreams do come true. And you make my dreams so real. Let's make our own dreams. Our love is of the mist, no one need know how or of whom we dream. We will meet and never pinch our selves to check our reality. We will only speak to each other of our meetings, least the mist evaporate.
I'm on the ground floor,
you have the key,
dare to enter
so I may have thee
~B~
At 07:00 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>in sorting through the aftermath of last night's dream you'll find that
>some things shine through more brightly than others. that some
>details...faces...words and places blend together or simply are not. and
>yet still other fine minutia are brazen and gaudy, prancing around your
>brain again and again. almost mocking you in a vibrant ly diaphanous state.
>my favorite music? the sad stories told in song. the true stories told in
>song...something about a blue raincoat torn at the shoulder...
>i saw the waves and heard the gleeful screaming. so easily your images
>project on my spirit. these must be our memories.
>gathered up to be sifted through...memories of everything we want to be true.
>as for places on this planet. time and space and places - sadly i know
>just now that i have no wings but in my mind.
>pebble.
I'm on the ground floor,
you have the key,
dare to enter
so I may have thee
~B~
At 07:00 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>in sorting through the aftermath of last night's dream you'll find that
>some things shine through more brightly than others. that some
>details...faces...words and places blend together or simply are not. and
>yet still other fine minutia are brazen and gaudy, prancing around your
>brain again and again. almost mocking you in a vibrant ly diaphanous state.
>my favorite music? the sad stories told in song. the true stories told in
>song...something about a blue raincoat torn at the shoulder...
>i saw the waves and heard the gleeful screaming. so easily your images
>project on my spirit. these must be our memories.
>gathered up to be sifted through...memories of everything we want to be true.
>as for places on this planet. time and space and places - sadly i know
>just now that i have no wings but in my mind.
>pebble.
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 19:03:59
5 Mar 2002 19:03:59
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 19:03:48
5 Mar 2002 19:03:48
Subject: Re: Psalms
Don't envy me, come be with me. Let's fly away next week and warm our souls or just come be with me.
At 06:36 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>I envy you
At 06:36 PM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>I envy you
Subject: Re: Where are you??
he is well, quite well, thank you :) and you are certianly right about the some days are harder than others, it seems like the whole month has been leaning toward the undesirable though. you take care though best wishes :)
dangermouse
>From: David Still <d.still@davidstill.org>
>not gone. just fading in and out. some days are harder than others.
>how is your little boy?
>majel.
dangermouse
>From: David Still <d.still@davidstill.org>
>not gone. just fading in and out. some days are harder than others.
>how is your little boy?
>majel.
e ` `
` `5 Mar 2002 18:03:18
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
5 Mar 2002 16:03:06
5 Mar 2002 16:03:06
Subject: Psalms
My Dear Sweet Pebble -
I have always suspected that we might never really meet. I'm sure I've alluded to that. Yet in the dreams I have nightly, the whimsical thoughts during the day, the fantasies I create for myself while writing - you are real. In my journal, the poetry I'll share with you after a night of passion is that a dream- nay I say. I no longer know what is real or fiction.
Who am I? An ordinary walking the earth or the stalwart Mercurial enchanter, enchanted. Do I fly hither and non, inches above the surreal holding you effortlessly in my arms? Do we visit the dessert together and breath its warm air. Do we splash in the Mexican tide jointly screaming in
glee? Is the key to my heart, soul and abode a dream or is the vision of your benevolent, smiling face looking down on me as first you shed shirt, shoes, all that shrouds your beautiful body. I'm distracted for a moment by the assemblage of your garb floating to the floor, then struck by the luminance of your body. You flow under the bed sheets like a spirit- a vapor. Not until you are in my arms do I gasp, knowing you are real. The touch and warmth of your skin to mine, such relief and yet pause, like a warm summer's breeze. Is this a dream? No this is real.
I have no choice but to lure you to the inevitable. Use your imagination, see my dreams, see yours. I know a place, in Mexico; we can be there next week or the week after to play. I know, I've been there before; perhaps you've already seen my keepsakes. There is also California next week, soon
after, summer or someday. Until then, there is my place.
Your favorite punch (Is that beer? What beer? Your favorite music? Tell me.) All things to comfort your dreams. Let us fulfill your dreams. Tell me how it should be. What makes you happy? When will it be? You tell me, if not now, it must be later in trance or authentic fantasy.
~B~
At 07:11 AM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>you are offering up so much to me.
>im buzzing like a bumbling bee.
>or is that fumbling? fumbling like a clumsy bee?
>there is a bit of torment involved now.
>propinquity is lacking.
>this vision that you have created, this eliminaiton
>out of the most mundane - this cocoon silk in which
>to wrap ourselves...with this i will warm myself
>nightly as i simmer down to dream.
>but don't you know i am real and not real?
>we are the greatest lovers who can never meet.
>pebble.
I have always suspected that we might never really meet. I'm sure I've alluded to that. Yet in the dreams I have nightly, the whimsical thoughts during the day, the fantasies I create for myself while writing - you are real. In my journal, the poetry I'll share with you after a night of passion is that a dream- nay I say. I no longer know what is real or fiction.
Who am I? An ordinary walking the earth or the stalwart Mercurial enchanter, enchanted. Do I fly hither and non, inches above the surreal holding you effortlessly in my arms? Do we visit the dessert together and breath its warm air. Do we splash in the Mexican tide jointly screaming in
glee? Is the key to my heart, soul and abode a dream or is the vision of your benevolent, smiling face looking down on me as first you shed shirt, shoes, all that shrouds your beautiful body. I'm distracted for a moment by the assemblage of your garb floating to the floor, then struck by the luminance of your body. You flow under the bed sheets like a spirit- a vapor. Not until you are in my arms do I gasp, knowing you are real. The touch and warmth of your skin to mine, such relief and yet pause, like a warm summer's breeze. Is this a dream? No this is real.
I have no choice but to lure you to the inevitable. Use your imagination, see my dreams, see yours. I know a place, in Mexico; we can be there next week or the week after to play. I know, I've been there before; perhaps you've already seen my keepsakes. There is also California next week, soon
after, summer or someday. Until then, there is my place.
Your favorite punch (Is that beer? What beer? Your favorite music? Tell me.) All things to comfort your dreams. Let us fulfill your dreams. Tell me how it should be. What makes you happy? When will it be? You tell me, if not now, it must be later in trance or authentic fantasy.
~B~
At 07:11 AM 3/5/2002 +0100, you wrote:
>you are offering up so much to me.
>im buzzing like a bumbling bee.
>or is that fumbling? fumbling like a clumsy bee?
>there is a bit of torment involved now.
>propinquity is lacking.
>this vision that you have created, this eliminaiton
>out of the most mundane - this cocoon silk in which
>to wrap ourselves...with this i will warm myself
>nightly as i simmer down to dream.
>but don't you know i am real and not real?
>we are the greatest lovers who can never meet.
>pebble.
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: je ne sais pas
e
5 Mar 2002 15:03:58
e . .
. .4 Mar 2002 21:03:08
Subject: Re: Where are you??
And just like that *poof* he was gone. . . .
Subject: Re: Web design?
That's what she said to you.
From: "David Still" <david@davidstill.org>
> You didn't do a very good job.
From: "David Still" <david@davidstill.org>
> You didn't do a very good job.
e Rev. Todd J. Jumper
Rev. Todd J. Jumper4 Mar 2002 16:03:23
<lipschub@seas.upenn.edu>
4 Mar 2002 15:03:18
4 Mar 2002 15:03:18
Subject: Re: Morning's Sweet Song
peeble -
To me you're morning's sweet song.
You've finally done it. You've finally begun to reveal a bit more about your self. I like who you were. I like who you're evolving to be even better. Was it really that scary? To experience the joys of love, you have to make yourself vulnerable.
I've finally done it. I've finally given you the key to my heart and home. I am still so afraid. If you won't give me a call, I wonder how I can expect that you will come to visit.
To continue THE most romantic affair I've ever had, I though one night you might come, unannounced and simply crawl in my bed with me. To feel your soft skin next to me is all I wish for; not lust, not exclamation points, just you. Perhaps the sex, the lust may come later, perhaps never. I will never know the full dimensions of love unless I take a chance - a
chance at possible utter defeat and rejection at the hands of someone I've always loved.
Be daring, use the key.
~B~
6449 Palmetto St.
Philadelphia, PA 19111
215-681-0702
To me you're morning's sweet song.
You've finally done it. You've finally begun to reveal a bit more about your self. I like who you were. I like who you're evolving to be even better. Was it really that scary? To experience the joys of love, you have to make yourself vulnerable.
I've finally done it. I've finally given you the key to my heart and home. I am still so afraid. If you won't give me a call, I wonder how I can expect that you will come to visit.
To continue THE most romantic affair I've ever had, I though one night you might come, unannounced and simply crawl in my bed with me. To feel your soft skin next to me is all I wish for; not lust, not exclamation points, just you. Perhaps the sex, the lust may come later, perhaps never. I will never know the full dimensions of love unless I take a chance - a
chance at possible utter defeat and rejection at the hands of someone I've always loved.
Be daring, use the key.
~B~
6449 Palmetto St.
Philadelphia, PA 19111
215-681-0702
Subject: Re: www.halturnershow.com
Ummm But it is soooooooo hard for me to stay quiet..... Just not my best quality !
www.mysticalcraft.com Arriana the loud one !
>Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
www.mysticalcraft.com Arriana the loud one !
>Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
e Arriana
Arriana<arriana@mysticalcraft.com>
4 Mar 2002 07:03:48
4 Mar 2002 07:03:48
e Todd Jumper
Todd Jumper3 Mar 2002 18:03:46
Subject: RE: I.G.O.R.S.
There is a difference between opinions and harassment. I am just the web designer here and do not appreciate emails like this from arrogant people like yourself who obviously has some anger issues and my opinion is that you need to see a psychologist to sort them out.
Do not write here again or I will turn you into your ISP for harassment.
Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one and your's stinks.
From: David Still [mailto:david@davidstill.org]
Well I'm cool with FREE Speach, but if you really beleive all that B.S. your write on www.freeworldalliance.com - maybe you should sial off to some small south Pacific island and hide out for the next 50 year or you die, which ever comes first.
I think the only reason why you have so many hits from military or government sources is simple, your site is Good Reading.. and would be great as a fictional paperback...
By the way, are you a Mosulm fuck? I mean it seems that you defend the Mosulms by pushing the blam on the United States Gov't.
You know, Bin Ladens Mother says her son is not guilty. I think some military assassins and rape, beat and kill her off like a stuck Pig and film the whole thing and give it to Bin Laden... I can asure you that will be the only thing in the world that can hurt that bastered.
As far as your Nut case ideas, why don't you suck back a shit load of sleeping pills and pull a white sheet over your head and see if you can catch up the the comet and your friends!
Do not write here again or I will turn you into your ISP for harassment.
Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one and your's stinks.
From: David Still [mailto:david@davidstill.org]
Well I'm cool with FREE Speach, but if you really beleive all that B.S. your write on www.freeworldalliance.com - maybe you should sial off to some small south Pacific island and hide out for the next 50 year or you die, which ever comes first.
I think the only reason why you have so many hits from military or government sources is simple, your site is Good Reading.. and would be great as a fictional paperback...
By the way, are you a Mosulm fuck? I mean it seems that you defend the Mosulms by pushing the blam on the United States Gov't.
You know, Bin Ladens Mother says her son is not guilty. I think some military assassins and rape, beat and kill her off like a stuck Pig and film the whole thing and give it to Bin Laden... I can asure you that will be the only thing in the world that can hurt that bastered.
As far as your Nut case ideas, why don't you suck back a shit load of sleeping pills and pull a white sheet over your head and see if you can catch up the the comet and your friends!
