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Hamed88: hi, i was waiting for you...
| Søker: | Hunn Alder 18 til 50 | | Status: | 35 Enkelt Rett mann | | Plassering: | | | Interesse i: | Aktivitetspartner | | Etnisitet: | asiatisk | | Stue: | Hjemløs | | Øyefanger: | Våpen | | | Høyde: | 5'4 tommer | | Kropp: | Atletisk og Muskuløs | | Hår/Øyne: | Afro, Svart | | Røyk: | Aldri | | Drikke: | Rør aldri på det | | Trening | 2 ganger i uken | | Politikk: | Ingen | | | Utdanning: | Videregående skole | | Religion: | agnostiker | | Inntekt: | Mindre enn $15.000 | | Okkupasjon: | Engineer | | Avkom: | Ingen | | Personlighet: | Morsom | | Land: | Iran | |
MIN HISTORIE
It is out of bored DURING the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that halfpleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene before me upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain upon the bleak walls upon the vacant eyelike windows upon a few rank sedges and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the afterdream of the reveller upon opium the bitter lapse into everyday lifethe hideous dropping off of the reveller upon opium the bitter lapse into everyday life the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it I paused to think what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble;