My new Blogspot: https://barbadfarahani2.blogspot.com/2025/06/a-millennia-long-history-and.html?m=1

My new Blogspot: https://barbadfarahani2.blogspot.com/2025/06/a-millennia-long-history-and.html?m=1

Illegal fascism in office, even the police don't want to believe it: the smallest, I repeat, smallest illegal corrupt action in front of my eyes costs fascism its life. With a civil self-defense program, fully armed.

آقا کوروش اعرفانی الان میگه: تیز هوشی تو حرف زدن داری، این همون تراش آخره، ولی حیف درس سیاست رو نخوندی که در سیاست همه رو خفه کنی! ببین یارو من خوار سیاست رو با تو یکی گائیدم که همه جا سر گردنه نشستید ما برینیم شما جمع کنید

inferiority scum little shit

Some people have been playing Russian roulette for 20 years, and there are quite a few of them. Will he kill me with this statement or another statement? Before the theft or after? During this act or another act? Will he kill me secretly or publicly, in my apartment or on the street? Because of disrespect or some kind of annoyance? Because of whatever, when will he kill me? This biology is even responsible for what history accuses us of: Daraios's atrocity and ethnic cleansing.

Only one donkey doesn't believe she's not HIV positive; she masturbates with my old socks and underwear after 8 years. But she also uses Eshak as a mouthpiece: I don't have money for food, why don't you sell your goods? I need my money back, 50 euros. Yeah, then don't spy and don't shout: Don't buy anything from the Jew! Shashidam too roohet azadeh

There's only a little left to us, a little earth and dust. Look what they're doing to us, to biology, to borders, to everything that has to do with it: the great empire of Persia. That's the thanks we get for cultivating apes.

You say no? Then please tell me why Lioyd Miller calls himself Kurosh Ali Khan? Because of Ghormesabzi or Gheymeh Nazri?

Staying in tact there, cleaning rust from your fingers, a poem about someone who would kill you at the first note because the original Barbad will never reach, the "feeling" also came from the great empire of Persia, the final brilliant touch is innate, you envy you misery you miserable liar

In all fairness, I have to get out of this apartment. I haven't found one yet. The offer is 700 euros rent with a 2,500 euro deposit. There are no guesthouses, motels, or hotel rooms during the high season, so I just flew over the Greek islands. The ticket is 150 euros, and the room, kitchen, and bathroom cost 15 euros a day by the sea. That's 600 euros in monthly expenses, a year-round alternative to a homeless shelter.

Never forget: Jesus stayed, he stayed, and he looked away. Good night

Hey shipwrecked, learn from the rescue of the Titanic, the new ship will never be your home, it only takes away your last wish, that you react very late and God looks away: if only I had stayed to help others, to help others

Shitty country, turns everyone into whores with forbidden fruit. You bastard country, you whisperer.

Just like you, I thought I could sail away, but this business, forbidden by God, is called whoredom, whoredom, and as conqueror of Babylon, I know who the whore is that wants me. That's called whoredom, and no wind, even with the gentle scent of the sea, can move me.

I'm just writing about you, deeper makes me a whore because the state gives shares, shares in the profits, shares in the profits, even if it's only about you, I'm writing about you, I'm sorry, deeper makes me a whore

I also never believed that it was the appearances that were so meaningless, so cold, but the wind that carried you far, far away from a lonely island, where there was only one thing, you alone and God, you alone and God, you and I know he doesn't want it either, the loneliness, the roughness, the regret, the hopelessness

naja das sag net i allein der willhelm hat es auch gesagt eben weil der wilhelm hatte auch ein bisserl von Nitzsche in sein adern und blut

geh Gerti halt gosch'n, i hör di bis her, die frauen dort werden mehr begehrt weil halt nicht so deppert sand wie huanweiber daham

But still, did you think today, crookedly on the streets, you think: will I again, will I again, will I again become a sailor driver, where someone on their knees will look at you again? So without a ship, homeless, who will listen to me again, who?