Nemorense @ 2010-12-25T12: 07:00
Merry Christmas to all my contacts!
that great to begin abbuffatta
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Tent Cleaning Portland Or
My tweets
- Fri, 01:25 : Sometime ago I was fighting my pain fighting to win just like it was a game and I thought it would never end And now I… http://j.mp/dSCRMP
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Christian Dinner Slogans
Nemorense @ 2010-12-16T22: 35:00
E 'that still thought of the Italian custom of caring but to do nothing. Type my little neighbor who came over to tell me how being organized employment, the member of Greyhound. It made me tenderly. It reminded me of a phrase that I bounce in Pasolini's head for days.
I saw what happened in Rome and I want to get so many veils pitiful, but I can think of only Pasolini.
too, continually.
I was pain and tenderness. Will always caught in the middle, will never belong to any group and will always feel out of place.
will try to make nice, blacks will take days, I'll kill her sensibility and rationality will pull up and backwards.
will always be alone, against all alone with his head. And Executioner
ah, I was filled with pride have always been so.
E 'that still thought of the Italian custom of caring but to do nothing. Type my little neighbor who came over to tell me how being organized employment, the member of Greyhound. It made me tenderly. It reminded me of a phrase that I bounce in Pasolini's head for days.
I saw what happened in Rome and I want to get so many veils pitiful, but I can think of only Pasolini.
too, continually.
I was pain and tenderness. Will always caught in the middle, will never belong to any group and will always feel out of place.
will try to make nice, blacks will take days, I'll kill her sensibility and rationality will pull up and backwards.
will always be alone, against all alone with his head. And Executioner
ah, I was filled with pride have always been so.
Smoking Pot Lichen Planus
flamingo_road @ 2010-12-16T21: 34:00
Sometime ago I was fighting my pain
fighting to win just like it was a game
and I thought it would never end
And now I am somewhere else
oh I came just to visit and I don't think I'll stay
any longer, any longer
So I'll see you someday,
yeah, I'll see you sometime
sometime
Sometime ago I was watching the leaves
But now I am somewhere else
Sometime ago I was fighting my pain
fighting to win just like it was a game
and I thought it would never end
And now I am somewhere else
oh I came just to visit and I don't think I'll stay
any longer, any longer
So I'll see you someday,
yeah, I'll see you sometime
sometime
Sometime ago I was watching the leaves
lost in that world, in that life beneath the blue above my head
Sometime ago I was fighting my pain
fighting to win just like it was a game
Sometime ago I was fighting my pain
fighting to win just like it was a game
and I thought it would never end
But now I am somewhere else
oh I came just to visit and I don't think I'll stay
any longer, any longer
So I'll see you someday,
yeah, I'll see you sometime
And just like you said one time
you can go, you can go
you can go, I'll be fine, I'll be fine
you can go, I'll be fine
just fine
Sometime ago I was watching the leaves
lost in that world, in that life
beneath the blue
any longer, any longer
So I'll see you someday,
yeah, I'll see you sometime
And just like you said one time
you can go, you can go
you can go, I'll be fine, I'll be fine
you can go, I'll be fine
just fine
Sometime ago I was watching the leaves
lost in that world, in that life
beneath the blue
Sometime ago - Elisa
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Old Songs That Mention Drugs
flamingo_road @ 2010-12-05T11: 05:00
are not yet ready to leave this place. I think I deserve it. As the callus sull'anulare, like ink spilled on the page. I deserve everything is back like a boomerang, because it is mine. I keep it tight to not let me get away, because I will not even let him go. And write and write and write. My hands speak for me.
are not yet ready to leave this place. I think I deserve it. As the callus sull'anulare, like ink spilled on the page. I deserve everything is back like a boomerang, because it is mine. I keep it tight to not let me get away, because I will not even let him go. And write and write and write. My hands speak for me.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Best Cookware Flat Top Stove
Nemorense @ 2010-12-02T21: 53:00
Dear Santa,
I ask you not to fall down Pompeii, nor the amphitheater of Capua Vetere, or health in the Lazio and Lombardy. Come on, it seems more easier than yesterday! A big kiss
Erika
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
How To Ask For Wedding Contributions
Nemorense @ 2010-11-28T21: 00:00
The word of the day, for the project: "we learn the method of reconstruction on profanity is piz decz, Russian, ya!
In honor of the end of the day is the name of my gift by Ulysses85 that you see in the picture above! the dog is bigger than me!
Thank you all for coming and calling me these days!
a hug e.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
How Do They Measure The Vertical Jump In The Nfl
literature naive.
Dirigo rather to the fact that my hopes can (scil. awareness caused by the literature) to transform the reception of literature from a passive process to a process "active". This is particularly the case where a literary text leads his readers to write themselves. Because of course all know how to write, as everyone knows about. The fact that so many talk about but few actually write is due to a complex system of intimidation, ranging from spelling lessons in elementary school to the history of literature that has been studied, with its poets ever "great" to certain beliefs unshakable as the taboo of discussing positive. Therefore it is desirable that literary education is proposed as a first objective of producing the courage to write, to turn readers into writers (writers do not say intentionally, or poets) and through this awareness. To put it otherwise, we lack a literature "naive" as to time, the visual arts, on both sides of any theory is a naive painting. Naive painting has deservedly found in recent years an increasing consideration and careful observers of this phenomenon, spread unevenly around the world, noted with astonishment that this activity apparently spontaneous artistic talents are in abundance. They only come to light if there is someone who makes their courage and take away their fear spontaneous expression. In fact, for this task naive, it's not important to the value "artistic" market the product or sentimental, but primarily the refining capacity to experience and express, which means at the same time one of the few convincing definition of the position of the individual, isolated in an environment that is becoming increasingly confused.
What can be naive to painting, then, should be accessible at least equally to a literature naive. We should expect major difficulties in the market. Some publishers are cas specialzzeranno naive in literature, just as there are special galleries for painting naive. And if the printed edition should not be profitable, the prestige printing the book you can safely leave to the literature and still remains high: photocopy and print rotaprint meet the equally naive view. It can also form groups _ even this shows us the further comparison with the naive painting-in which can circulate literature naive: even so, you prevent the retreat into interiority. This sketch of literature that would broaden considerably the extent of the expressions written in a literary utopia is of course appreciated. But not great. only a small autopia that its realization is part of what is possible here and now, has proved ... "
Harald Weinrich, Sublime and humble in the literature, in "Metaphor and Lies", 280-282, (trad. it. 1976) Il Mulino, Bologna.
Dirigo rather to the fact that my hopes can (scil. awareness caused by the literature) to transform the reception of literature from a passive process to a process "active". This is particularly the case where a literary text leads his readers to write themselves. Because of course all know how to write, as everyone knows about. The fact that so many talk about but few actually write is due to a complex system of intimidation, ranging from spelling lessons in elementary school to the history of literature that has been studied, with its poets ever "great" to certain beliefs unshakable as the taboo of discussing positive. Therefore it is desirable that literary education is proposed as a first objective of producing the courage to write, to turn readers into writers (writers do not say intentionally, or poets) and through this awareness. To put it otherwise, we lack a literature "naive" as to time, the visual arts, on both sides of any theory is a naive painting. Naive painting has deservedly found in recent years an increasing consideration and careful observers of this phenomenon, spread unevenly around the world, noted with astonishment that this activity apparently spontaneous artistic talents are in abundance. They only come to light if there is someone who makes their courage and take away their fear spontaneous expression. In fact, for this task naive, it's not important to the value "artistic" market the product or sentimental, but primarily the refining capacity to experience and express, which means at the same time one of the few convincing definition of the position of the individual, isolated in an environment that is becoming increasingly confused.
What can be naive to painting, then, should be accessible at least equally to a literature naive. We should expect major difficulties in the market. Some publishers are cas specialzzeranno naive in literature, just as there are special galleries for painting naive. And if the printed edition should not be profitable, the prestige printing the book you can safely leave to the literature and still remains high: photocopy and print rotaprint meet the equally naive view. It can also form groups _ even this shows us the further comparison with the naive painting-in which can circulate literature naive: even so, you prevent the retreat into interiority. This sketch of literature that would broaden considerably the extent of the expressions written in a literary utopia is of course appreciated. But not great. only a small autopia that its realization is part of what is possible here and now, has proved ... "
Harald Weinrich, Sublime and humble in the literature, in "Metaphor and Lies", 280-282, (trad. it. 1976) Il Mulino, Bologna.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Commercial Lease Termination Letter
Nemorense @ 2010-11-09T12: 32:00
Away. It 's so it is a year since I saw you on the first morning, as he walked toward me, toward the train.
In twenty days I will have the boy for a year and still did not send me to hell, how strange.
I often wonder what my life has been the first to know, but now there's you.
I love you.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Is Tablet Of The Gods On Poptropica Real?
U2 Concert, Tour 360, 08/10/2010
It took me a while 'to metabolize the concert on Friday at the Olympic Stadium of Rome, and took a bit 'to return the item.
But first things first: in 1985, shortly before I was born, U2's first concert held in Milan, Italian and sang for the first time in Rome in 1987, when I was too small to hear or know of their existence.
My two are not big fans of rock, even if listening to something while I growing up I became increasingly divided between studying violin, music theory, music history and listening to rock, blues, jazz, metal (a of the constants in my life). U2 were a band first heard on the radio, then more often until a learning vacation in Ireland, during which they bought a cd, one of the first purchased by itself. I admit that in 1998 I went to see Bono's house just outside Dublin with a group of companions in learning vacation and took us half shot at all when you opened the gate and he went into the car (incidentally one of us had well hung at the gate to be able to see inside). I promised myself to go and hear the first concert useful, but I always had problems with tickets.
Last year, in November, the news that would sing in Rome after five years. Time three days I had booked two tickets.
And then, at 3:45 my boyfriend ended up with a crazy screaming and jumping on the bus, ready for the great adventure.
We arrived at the Olympic Stadium at half past four.
After half an hour we sat in our seats (which turned out to be wrong due to an error on the ticket, panic!), In south-west corner (and he and I are from Lazio).
At seven forty-five began singing the opening band, but unfortunately the volumes were not well regulated, but as my boyfriend does not like them, I have not disappointed. It 's true that the opening band knew that all the attention was for them, the U2, there's a brief onstage. Finished with the band we waited almost an hour for the entry of our Irish, with the audience that made the wave, singing, talking (to be note the large number of children and certainly the average age was over thirty years), went around ... And then, to the tune of David Bowie, came on stage, the claw, which is illuminated with lights, while Bono attacked "Beautiful Day" greeting Rome with a small change in the opening stanza from and The Edge began virtuismo playing with the guitar was flawless Mullen on drums and Clayton played bass in his own way. Incredible version of "Miss Sarajevo", see how it was done (and nothing in playback) with the strength and emotional involvement with that. Also, see people jumping on stage like that is truly a sight to behold.
http://www.therockblog.net/tour-2010/u2-tour-2010-italia-roma-torino-date-biglietti-scaletta/ I give you the lineup.
2:00 to 3:00 I like to recall moments of the concert, engaging in all its parts.
course, by a member of Amnesty International, and MLK Walk on, with Amnesty candles on the stage, dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi, as well as Sunday Bloody Sunday, angry and aggressive, dedicated to Saviano, and especially to Ahmanedinejad opposed to students. Beautiful all found on the big screen in "claw" the claw.
I should also talk about how we were involved the spectators, with the creation of the Irish flag and Italian, as well as the word "One" during "I Still Have not Found What I'm Looking For" (which is a song inspired by religion, as I am repeating to everyone when I say: Is not that a beautiful love song? - Yes it is, but the text is religious)?
I do with this understatement, as I believe there have also spoken to the news.
beautiful version of "All I Want Is You" interspersed with "Bad."
What else?
Two and a half hours music engaging, exciting, I'm sorry to the neighbors that I have heard her sing out loud all the time and that I probably stepped on jumping!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Free Nhs Dentist In Portsmouth
If he is a criminal, well, I'm a criminal
http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/2010/press.html
Said I have to speak the truth to you is a painful thing. To be forced to tell lies is much worse.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-pacific-11505164
http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/2010/press.html
Said I have to speak the truth to you is a painful thing. To be forced to tell lies is much worse.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-pacific-11505164
Saturday, September 11, 2010
How To Measure Cervical Mucus
flamingo_road @ 2010-09-11T20: 17:00
What sense does it keep the walls gifts of those then got rid of me? Today, my room has a new color. It 's the sun that greets us through the new curtains. It 's a cooler sun, I like it. I think the butterflies
should fly free. I think the real I love you you're dying. I think a lawn should be cultivated with wisdom. Away from my room now.
What sense does it keep the walls gifts of those then got rid of me? Today, my room has a new color. It 's the sun that greets us through the new curtains. It 's a cooler sun, I like it. I think the butterflies
should fly free. I think the real I love you you're dying. I think a lawn should be cultivated with wisdom. Away from my room now.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Wedding Invitation Noon
Nemorense @ 2010-09-07T13: 23:00
Third day in Valencia and tomorrow comes. Fuego! Paola force, which will matiamo todos!
Third day in Valencia and tomorrow comes. Fuego! Paola force, which will matiamo todos!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Milena Velba-back In The Office/2010
flamingo_road @ 2010-09-05T23: 19:00
I'm afraid that greets those who do not be scattered from wrong, shame, remorse, as if it was gasoline. And the greeting is a lighted match. Too dangerous, you risk losing face.
What should be a friendly gesture, it becomes a lack of respect that soon adds up all the cracks of these weak relationships. So why should I learn to open the door, where once the curiosity is not satisfied with the greeting? Keep it. Keep your face and your smell of alcohol. I have nothing else to do.
I'm afraid that greets those who do not be scattered from wrong, shame, remorse, as if it was gasoline. And the greeting is a lighted match. Too dangerous, you risk losing face.
What should be a friendly gesture, it becomes a lack of respect that soon adds up all the cracks of these weak relationships. So why should I learn to open the door, where once the curiosity is not satisfied with the greeting? Keep it. Keep your face and your smell of alcohol. I have nothing else to do.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Constant Copper Taste In Mouth Ovaries
flamingo_road @ 2010-09-03T15: 51:00
I'm deciding whether to keep this page or not. What good, if never make public even a fraction of what I think? What's the use if I do not want to be read and, above all, misunderstood?
I'm deciding whether to keep this page or not. What good, if never make public even a fraction of what I think? What's the use if I do not want to be read and, above all, misunderstood?
Friday, August 27, 2010
Ingrown Toenail Removal
flamingo_road @ 2010-08-27T21: 13:00
What makes your grip so that you feel able to transfer from your hand to mine? It is not heat. You do not even love. It 's a feeling of fresh salt water. E 'empathy, and takes the time to blink and open them again. Just a moment, and I do not feel so lonely. From you to me as if my hand could dry salt to absorb moisture of an emotion with your palm. From you to me, as if it ran before disappearing. Then he really goes.
Why are not always able to prove it? I'm not alive when I try?
What makes your grip so that you feel able to transfer from your hand to mine? It is not heat. You do not even love. It 's a feeling of fresh salt water. E 'empathy, and takes the time to blink and open them again. Just a moment, and I do not feel so lonely. From you to me as if my hand could dry salt to absorb moisture of an emotion with your palm. From you to me, as if it ran before disappearing. Then he really goes.
Why are not always able to prove it? I'm not alive when I try?
Friday, August 20, 2010
A Hard Drive Or Floppy Disk Is Composed Of
Nemorense @ 2010-08-20T16: 21:00
do not know if it happens to you, but today I woke up ... with a take taste in mouth, headache, very late, after failing to close eye and refugees from myself to read at night noir since I turned over in the lettofino 4. Take taste in the mouth to another characteristic of drunk and sober for months. true that yesterday I exaggerated the effect of cocaine and chocolate makes me, me dilate the eyes that even a beginning to be toxic and weird, but I do not think hangover effect.
Valencia will be the fear, anxiety Poitiers (I just hope that Clare is), that are completely neurotic for days.
Do not know. Just today, I want to do nothing.
could.
bisous.
do not know if it happens to you, but today I woke up ... with a take taste in mouth, headache, very late, after failing to close eye and refugees from myself to read at night noir since I turned over in the lettofino 4. Take taste in the mouth to another characteristic of drunk and sober for months. true that yesterday I exaggerated the effect of cocaine and chocolate makes me, me dilate the eyes that even a beginning to be toxic and weird, but I do not think hangover effect.
Valencia will be the fear, anxiety Poitiers (I just hope that Clare is), that are completely neurotic for days.
Do not know. Just today, I want to do nothing.
could.
bisous.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Literal Equations Checking
flamingo_road @ 2010-08-18T16: 47:00
hanging from your neck, swing slow and sad smile. I try to fall, but I can if I release you. My arms are now only weakened bony attempts to stay with you for a while ', yet some more ', and never forget to have you near. Not just under the skin.
I try to let me go, I plan to caress your face and your back and relax. I want to hurt me now, because then it will be terrible. Why do not you go after, even if there will be more.
Can you hear me? I can not tell if I felt more alone before you know, or now that I know where you are. And do not look at me like, is not cruel?
hanging from your neck, swing slow and sad smile. I try to fall, but I can if I release you. My arms are now only weakened bony attempts to stay with you for a while ', yet some more ', and never forget to have you near. Not just under the skin.
I try to let me go, I plan to caress your face and your back and relax. I want to hurt me now, because then it will be terrible. Why do not you go after, even if there will be more.
Can you hear me? I can not tell if I felt more alone before you know, or now that I know where you are. And do not look at me like, is not cruel?
Saturday, August 14, 2010
What To Write On Inside Of Muslim Wedding Cards
holidays.
I returned Tuesday from Vienna, a beautiful place.
was when I was very I wanted to go small, and we took advantage of Ulysses and myself this summer to go.
The arrival was rather busy, get to the hotel because I had hurt the plane very difficult, everything in the hands of poor Ulysses.
Schloss Schoenbrunn is absolutely magnificent, the park is a pleasure to walk, eat and do some Brazel and gardens and the Tiergarten. I'm lost in the maze with Ulysses and it was really enjoyable to visit the carriage museum and the houses of the Palms, where he threatened to disband.
The next day we visited the Duomo, the Cathedral Museum, catacombs and tower of St. Stephen, the graben and the Hofburg. The Sisi Museum is almost sickening and I found it depressing that a woman so beautiful it was so thin and depressed. In the evening we saw the beautiful Museum of Natural History, with the collection and the mineralogy of Venus Willford.
We were also the church of the Augustinians and the National Library, where there was a scientific exhibition in the encounter between cultures Semitic (Arabs and Jews) and greek and Roman civilization, simply love!
Ulysses was traded by a baker (But I'm not gay, married) to Ben Affleck, rotfl! The problem is that the situation has become too embarrassing when two Russian girls at the Belvedere and various people in museums and Demel have mistaken for the American actor!
We saw of course the crypt of the Capuchin church of Minoritani, the museum of Ephesus, weapons and musical instruments, the Albertina, the Kunsthistorisches Museum, the houses built by Hundertwasser (and its incinerator), Belvedere gardens and exhibits (for the sin Alpengarten, chiusoci under the nose due to rain), the Church of St. Elizabeth, the Museum of Ethnology (with two fine exhibitions on Indian religions and James Cook), the cemetery of St. Marx with the mass grave where his body was thrown by Mozart, the central cemetery with the grave of Brahms and Beethoven, the church of San Carlo with area museums, the Liechstein Museum, Leopold Museum, the Church of the Maltese, the church of San Pietro, the Votive Church (ouch, bad luck, misfortune, because the buckle was so hard?), the Opera House. We went to
Sacher (a disappointment, cream and vegetable spray sacher just sweet, no taste), from Gerstener (or better, catering to the Museum Kunsthistorische provides Gerstner, good strudel and discreetly salty), and Demel, so We have developed a dependency, sweet WOW! Ulysses
thank for not having killed for the 12-hour daily walk and my curiosity monkey. You
amo.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Landline Phone Bill 2010
flamingo_road @ 2010-08-12T13: 53:00
E 'started it all alongside a courageous old lady, with a glass of cranberry juice in hand, began a desperate marathon Dr House, before finishing only ten hours later in Newark. My place in the last row in the darkness of a tent from which emerge every now and then I saw the stewardesses and stewards, and only then my wickedness was completely nullified by the discovery that those places in total darkness may serve only to enable them to rest. I saw them get out of there in pairs, all disheveled ... what do I know?
It 's been easier than expected, shorter than expected and also very exciting. I followed my flight on the monitor in front of my seat, rejoicing as they moved away from here, until they left their west coast of Ireland, I thought it made.
Only one episode of CSI and CSI Miami for me, no marathon. I preferred to doze off for a few minutes, then wake up to see where we were, then fall asleep again, then wake up again. Quietly, I did not come forward to now was done.
Settemilatrecento kilometers later, my feet were swollen and I did not sleep. The hostess saw me curled English to try to see something closer porthole allowed me to move on one of their seats to watch the landing.
New Jersey, but I could see the Manhattan skyline as if it had been there for me. It was raining and the air conditioning in the off did not make pleasant jacket, but the enormous written Welcome to United States of America was the first, sweet candy that was given to me to satisfy the hunger that I bent in two by a lifetime.
I just smile at passport control, where the agent who checked my tracks and made me the picture with a webcam, making fun of the Italians who thought they had our luggage delivered directly to Los Angeles. It was impossible, he explained, because no matter what the journey is long in the States, baggage must be checked at the airport entrance. I quickly realized it was a stupid mistake by the Italian company at the check-in and realizing I felt at home. Newark, NJ, United States of America. The next flight instead
was not pleasant. I was hot, then suddenly cold, the seats uncomfortable and too tight to be a flight of six hours.
But when it gets to 'LAX, yes, I was right at home. Many pillars of colored pink and green lit night in Los Angeles fresh, palm trees everywhere, the view exotic, interesting. I discovered during the journey that these trees from very long neck, as I call them, I like very much. Sorting could not imagine this effect on me, before you see them.
initial traffic was disrupted on the highway then, notice After sign up to Downtown, to Echo Park to Hollywood. Our hostel could not be more appropriate, located in Schrader Blvd, on the corner of Hollywood Blvd, the famous Walk of Fame. Opposite the entrance, spacious and colorful flags stand out proud to introduce the Gay and Lesbian Center. Yes, it's status as gay the Union.
Like all the hostels that are observed (the one in Edinburgh was obviously a top quality hotel in comparison), it left a bit 'to be desired. Initially I thought it was not normal that the shower does not come out hot and the door will not shut from the inside. Then I realized that being in a hostel youth, not a hotel. And I also understood that the casino was at any time.
The first few nights in fact, complicit adrenaline, but also the effects of jet lag, I could not sleep.
The lights of Hollywood in the early morning they took us to breakfast in a little place around the hostel, run Mexicans by and frequented by a clientele that is so like that of the Planet. Of course first I could not miss the opportunity to make some pancakes alone in the kitchen of the hostel. As a first attempt I got a decent result. It was good, although it is not the kind of breakfast you love to do.
Right away I noticed that people are friendly, that if you say you have beautiful eyes is a compliment because they want to get an end in itself, especially if you say it is a refined young man who wears orange. While Italian and English are warm, it is also true that Americans in this area are friendly, helpful, to the hand. In short, the Italians make the most of the time with an appreciation of a second end, and attach themselves like limpets become bothersome. Americans no, because I'm happy smile, help you because they have pleasure. Do not expect anything in return. And their penalty does fit the things. There is nothing it will not work if everything follows certain rules.
The shops and services open at 11 am, but close at midnight. The streets are clean, the traffic is orderly.
walk on Walk of Fame often gay and lesbian couples took her hand. Took her hand, not a particular underestimated.
The stars are many, but I managed to find the most interesting. Shops of all kinds appear to the side of the road, but most often are those of souvenirs, where do those tattoos, internet cafes and shops selling a dress, I've renamed them the stores of the drag. Even the mannequins have expressions in I found some cases exaggerated. I do not think that the women of Los Angeles to dress all ... so. I think clothing is rather typical for drag shows, or the like. In short, do not stuff every day. Besides these there were men's clothing stores, very serious. Strange juxtaposition.
The Kodak Theater is truly grand and elegant, I'm not surprised that the Academy Awards ceremony is taken there, but the Grauman's left me speechless. It will be the oriental style is completely different from what surrounds it, but in its way manages to be more majestic Kodak, if I may say so. And of course all those footprints on the concrete have their reason.
Against all expectations, including Universal Studios, I was positively surprised. Thought to be an amusement park for children, in reality it is, but set within the real worth any price of the ticket, not to mention the special effects. The Big One was brilliant and King Kong a real treat. From
you can see on the hills surrounding the neighborhood Universal and other studios, like Warner Bros, gigantic.
Great indeed is also the Hard Rock, which puts you on the list to accommodate you and leave you a kind of object type phone, which will be released when the place you will to vibrate and light up. In the meantime you are free to sit in the living room, or take a ride in the store, from which it obviously did not leave empty-handed, as usual.
Allegri, joyful, engaging, too, that these Americans are a celebration of all things. The two boys at the table over there isolated maybe they just wanted to celebrate their anniversary in peace, but the young waiters Hard Rock have all made to share the room with songs and dances. That's right, every time someone throws a urletto and all responded with a urletto, or applause, joyous. Beautiful, even if it does not reflect my character.
The Hard Rock is also the only one that offers vegetarian dishes, although a bit 'standard, and even if, in fact, is the only true international restaurant where we were, so it is just an indication.
the remainder of the tourist night spots left to be desired as a vegetarian menu. A real shame when I think that in Birmingham appeared everywhere V.
The small organized tour from the hostel on Hollywood Hills to see the sign was exhausting and a bit 'boring, since we really can not get the banner for security reasons. I already knew the actress who committed suicide and fell by the letter H to dissatisfaction at work. The next day the family received a letter of appointment. How sad.
I really liked, however, able to communicate with the Portuguese girls, despite an initial shyness I expected not let me make any sentence. Interesting idea their Port, useful tips on their Las Vegas. It 'been a growing really unexpected for my language skills, but more for those who think it is simply letting go approach. It occurred to me several times and I was certainly facilitated by the U.S. to do, from this habit of rapid exchange views, to make themselves available. Even the tourist is better, even the most seasoned traveler feels closed and introverted at ease.
Los Angeles, then, that's my home. It 's the feeling, I do not know how to explain, but I felt that I wore the city, we felt good inside. There are two different feelings that I recognize when I travel: one makes me feel the place as magical, surreal, wonderful. Delve into the diversity, scenic, and cultural. The second one is more rare that makes me feel at home. Another house, however, not the Italian one, where there is family. A new house, where to start. That place where to build. The language affects me so much. And 'my language is the pronunciation that I tend to imitate when I speak. It is no longer English, American. I feel myself and I'm more and more I realize that I still want to learn.
The climate is very pleasant, is just the thing for me. To wear a sweater over the summer tan, or find out your arms during the winter, much like here.
In Santa Monica seemed winter! We arrived late and the clouds have taken over the wide beach Baywatch huge, with lots of young Brazilian lifeguard. Colors are really beautiful. The Pier, the pier, is special. He has something of a Gothic with these clouds. Bello, despite I was a bit 'removed.
The walk is the largest pedestrian street full of LA. A wealth of shops, artists and restaurants. A great way to greet the Angels before leaving for Las Vegas, where a moment of despair he had not taken aback. I could not help myself, do not even understand what triggers my tears, but at that moment I wanted to be alone in the dark of the beach of Santa Monica, looking at my colorful pier, to make him all the compliments he wished. Instead I was the only table in the middle of the room had that restaurant, his eyes focused on German and English, the beautiful voice of an American who pierced my ears, while I tried not to think about how nice it was there and how I was ruining the moment with tears. Needed was that there were Italians to see me cry.
The day after Las Vegas welcomed me with open arms, stab me before. The heat was a blow to my body weakened by the first three days of sun-based salads, excluding dinner at the Hard Rock.
In Las Vegas you pay even the air we breathe. In Las Vegas, if you're not careful, pay also get the information. Luckily there was Randal to help me when I had to cancel the hotel in Page. He looked me in the area code and he borrowed the phone from a colleague to make the call, if made from the hotel, would cost twenty dollars. The reason to stay in Las Vegas was the fear of taking the car to move a page. Along the way we saw tire completely eaten hot from the asphalt and, speaking with an Italian who had our own intentions to turn the car in Arizona, we let it scare you. Or rather, I would have taken anyway, but I was not alone to decide. Maybe because I'm young and inexperienced and, if not slam the nose, difficult to understand how far you can go. Yes, maybe I'm naive, but I do not know another way to gain experience. I do not think enough to be told things grow.
probably if we had that morning matches for Page, I would not have felt bad. But this is only theory. As luck would have it that morning I revolted entrails. Paris hotel wanted me to come and listen to all damned ways to try with a person, in English and French were repeated, first female, then the male, trivial to the core, as stupid as hunger. More dying in there, plus I wanted the voices would stop bothering me. Cold sweating, trembling, I was standing. After an hour I had someone call from a lady who was sick before they realize that meant I left the bathroom and told him with that face. In English, yes, but with that face. E 'immediately rush to call the paramedics, who have not been slow. They made me millions of questions to which I have attempted to answer, despite the confusion of the moment. I have not fainted, but I was more there than here.
When I raised my head from the toilet, in a face convulsed, the uniform that made me the requests turned out to be a woman with eyes as blue as the sky. Its label said it was called Catherine. Her hair tied in a ponytail, the expression serious, mature, those who have the situation under control, but still a bit 'worried. Two blue eyes, in fact, many tricks, but beautiful.
Focusing these details could not think of the fire inside me, even if sometimes distracted me from his questions and was eager to come out. Several times he measured my blood pressure and, touching his forehead, told me that was boiling and my heart was beating strong. I tried to tell her immediately that I wanted to go to the hospital and she went along, trying to calm down too. The other paramedics tried to do me a vial of something, but my veins gliel'hanno permission. I still have the sign. Slowly I reached
other paramedics, or do not know, someone in uniform. The aunt could not explain, even in English. I was my only salvation. Finally, thought should be taken to hospital, so I was loaded onto a stretcher and the ambulance took me to the emergency room. ER, emergency, was written above. Catherine has disappeared and been replaced by a much younger boy, who looked at me with eyes like that. He also repeated all the questions, apologizing for what might seem intimate. I remember telling him not to worry, but no, there was the risk I was pregnant. It 'was on the ball, like everybody else. I made an infusion of something that I just calmed down, before arriving in emergency.
There, I have stuck my hospital gown, just one of the movies, and everything seemed an episode of ER. I was shaking as a leaf, my skin felt ice. After the analysis, I fell asleep all afternoon. The diagnosis was then an infection, as well as a suspected heat stroke. I was given medication and discharged as soon as the drip I had calmed down completely. Exhausted, the Flamingo me wrapped in his blankets for two days. I could not move, the only movement was allotted from my body involuntarily shivering. Behind the veil of the eyes, the window of my hotel room allowed me to see the city and rejuvenate aging, night and day, darkness and light.
We then called another doctor to visit me in the room. The Flamingo is not a doctor. No hotel there was a doctor. At best, they give you a number and the call is still in charge. So, I called Dr Lissau. A weird, in Hawaiian shirt, who first wrote to visit me a million things on paper. His diagnosis was a further infection of the airways, thyroiditis, and gave me more antibiotics. Yes, oh well. Thyroiditis? Mah The fact is that I took her medicine once and I lost everything. Everything! I kept taking it and I did take the money back to the visit, and confirmed that I was much better. He also got to use a bikini at the pool. A bikini. He said he has many because it makes them his brother, but when he wanted to measure it, I sent away. Meanwhile, the bikinis are taking me. It 's a bit transparent, but nice. In the afternoon, then I immediately put on for a dip in the pool, where I met some Canadian guys who attacked the button with the excuse to be occurring in my photo. Very nice.
Fortunately, with my healing, the coming of the "fresh". 40 ° from the first night, the thermometer of Las Vegas at night fell to 35-34 degrees. In short, acceptable. Last night it rained, a show. I half expected to see the smoke appear above the asphalt. That city it's really hellish.
The most beautiful hotel has confirmed the Bellagio, but the most scenoso for me remains the Stratosphere with its impressive tower. The Fremont Street Experience was very good, but I expected something more. I'm not sure what, but more.
Las Vegas is its fountains. E 'Luck Be A Lady Frank Sinatra, or Elvis Viva Las Vegas. Las Vegas Stratosphere Tower is the blue balloon and Paris. Las Vegas is the sparkle of sequins, the posters of the club is for men only. Las Vegas is, unfortunately, pop tickets against the fingers of selling Mexican night's fire with young girls. Las Vegas is brilliant and horrible. It 's beautiful and cruel. But I am convinced that you know to do its worst side, as if it was the best one. You can not choose which side to know her. She buys you one, and I will have to be enough. If you want to know really do not have to walk on the Strip.
I had to see it. I had to deal with the American side that the more hate and Las Vegas there is a good deal.
But as I was sure before, now that I have been there: in America I feel at home. And Los Angeles, more than Las Vegas, fits me like a glove.
It was not by chance that returned to LA for the tattoo. American ink under the skin, to belong to a little 'more.
I do not know how I feel on this side of the world. I guess I'm still not returned at all. In fact, it is more difficult and tiring to the effect of time here.
I think I stayed in the middle, as if I could not tear myself away, if something held me glued.
This time my feet are swollen. The trip was tiring.
My America has remained there, waiting for me to convince myself that it is closer, which is not hard to get. E is not difficult to reach. It is not difficult to talk to her. And 'my, I have it under the skin.
E 'started it all alongside a courageous old lady, with a glass of cranberry juice in hand, began a desperate marathon Dr House, before finishing only ten hours later in Newark. My place in the last row in the darkness of a tent from which emerge every now and then I saw the stewardesses and stewards, and only then my wickedness was completely nullified by the discovery that those places in total darkness may serve only to enable them to rest. I saw them get out of there in pairs, all disheveled ... what do I know?
It 's been easier than expected, shorter than expected and also very exciting. I followed my flight on the monitor in front of my seat, rejoicing as they moved away from here, until they left their west coast of Ireland, I thought it made.
Only one episode of CSI and CSI Miami for me, no marathon. I preferred to doze off for a few minutes, then wake up to see where we were, then fall asleep again, then wake up again. Quietly, I did not come forward to now was done.
Settemilatrecento kilometers later, my feet were swollen and I did not sleep. The hostess saw me curled English to try to see something closer porthole allowed me to move on one of their seats to watch the landing.
New Jersey, but I could see the Manhattan skyline as if it had been there for me. It was raining and the air conditioning in the off did not make pleasant jacket, but the enormous written Welcome to United States of America was the first, sweet candy that was given to me to satisfy the hunger that I bent in two by a lifetime.
I just smile at passport control, where the agent who checked my tracks and made me the picture with a webcam, making fun of the Italians who thought they had our luggage delivered directly to Los Angeles. It was impossible, he explained, because no matter what the journey is long in the States, baggage must be checked at the airport entrance. I quickly realized it was a stupid mistake by the Italian company at the check-in and realizing I felt at home. Newark, NJ, United States of America. The next flight instead
was not pleasant. I was hot, then suddenly cold, the seats uncomfortable and too tight to be a flight of six hours.
But when it gets to 'LAX, yes, I was right at home. Many pillars of colored pink and green lit night in Los Angeles fresh, palm trees everywhere, the view exotic, interesting. I discovered during the journey that these trees from very long neck, as I call them, I like very much. Sorting could not imagine this effect on me, before you see them.
initial traffic was disrupted on the highway then, notice After sign up to Downtown, to Echo Park to Hollywood. Our hostel could not be more appropriate, located in Schrader Blvd, on the corner of Hollywood Blvd, the famous Walk of Fame. Opposite the entrance, spacious and colorful flags stand out proud to introduce the Gay and Lesbian Center. Yes, it's status as gay the Union.
Like all the hostels that are observed (the one in Edinburgh was obviously a top quality hotel in comparison), it left a bit 'to be desired. Initially I thought it was not normal that the shower does not come out hot and the door will not shut from the inside. Then I realized that being in a hostel youth, not a hotel. And I also understood that the casino was at any time.
The first few nights in fact, complicit adrenaline, but also the effects of jet lag, I could not sleep.
The lights of Hollywood in the early morning they took us to breakfast in a little place around the hostel, run Mexicans by and frequented by a clientele that is so like that of the Planet. Of course first I could not miss the opportunity to make some pancakes alone in the kitchen of the hostel. As a first attempt I got a decent result. It was good, although it is not the kind of breakfast you love to do.
Right away I noticed that people are friendly, that if you say you have beautiful eyes is a compliment because they want to get an end in itself, especially if you say it is a refined young man who wears orange. While Italian and English are warm, it is also true that Americans in this area are friendly, helpful, to the hand. In short, the Italians make the most of the time with an appreciation of a second end, and attach themselves like limpets become bothersome. Americans no, because I'm happy smile, help you because they have pleasure. Do not expect anything in return. And their penalty does fit the things. There is nothing it will not work if everything follows certain rules.
The shops and services open at 11 am, but close at midnight. The streets are clean, the traffic is orderly.
walk on Walk of Fame often gay and lesbian couples took her hand. Took her hand, not a particular underestimated.
The stars are many, but I managed to find the most interesting. Shops of all kinds appear to the side of the road, but most often are those of souvenirs, where do those tattoos, internet cafes and shops selling a dress, I've renamed them the stores of the drag. Even the mannequins have expressions in I found some cases exaggerated. I do not think that the women of Los Angeles to dress all ... so. I think clothing is rather typical for drag shows, or the like. In short, do not stuff every day. Besides these there were men's clothing stores, very serious. Strange juxtaposition.
The Kodak Theater is truly grand and elegant, I'm not surprised that the Academy Awards ceremony is taken there, but the Grauman's left me speechless. It will be the oriental style is completely different from what surrounds it, but in its way manages to be more majestic Kodak, if I may say so. And of course all those footprints on the concrete have their reason.
Against all expectations, including Universal Studios, I was positively surprised. Thought to be an amusement park for children, in reality it is, but set within the real worth any price of the ticket, not to mention the special effects. The Big One was brilliant and King Kong a real treat. From
you can see on the hills surrounding the neighborhood Universal and other studios, like Warner Bros, gigantic.
Great indeed is also the Hard Rock, which puts you on the list to accommodate you and leave you a kind of object type phone, which will be released when the place you will to vibrate and light up. In the meantime you are free to sit in the living room, or take a ride in the store, from which it obviously did not leave empty-handed, as usual.
Allegri, joyful, engaging, too, that these Americans are a celebration of all things. The two boys at the table over there isolated maybe they just wanted to celebrate their anniversary in peace, but the young waiters Hard Rock have all made to share the room with songs and dances. That's right, every time someone throws a urletto and all responded with a urletto, or applause, joyous. Beautiful, even if it does not reflect my character.
The Hard Rock is also the only one that offers vegetarian dishes, although a bit 'standard, and even if, in fact, is the only true international restaurant where we were, so it is just an indication.
the remainder of the tourist night spots left to be desired as a vegetarian menu. A real shame when I think that in Birmingham appeared everywhere V.
The small organized tour from the hostel on Hollywood Hills to see the sign was exhausting and a bit 'boring, since we really can not get the banner for security reasons. I already knew the actress who committed suicide and fell by the letter H to dissatisfaction at work. The next day the family received a letter of appointment. How sad.
I really liked, however, able to communicate with the Portuguese girls, despite an initial shyness I expected not let me make any sentence. Interesting idea their Port, useful tips on their Las Vegas. It 'been a growing really unexpected for my language skills, but more for those who think it is simply letting go approach. It occurred to me several times and I was certainly facilitated by the U.S. to do, from this habit of rapid exchange views, to make themselves available. Even the tourist is better, even the most seasoned traveler feels closed and introverted at ease.
Los Angeles, then, that's my home. It 's the feeling, I do not know how to explain, but I felt that I wore the city, we felt good inside. There are two different feelings that I recognize when I travel: one makes me feel the place as magical, surreal, wonderful. Delve into the diversity, scenic, and cultural. The second one is more rare that makes me feel at home. Another house, however, not the Italian one, where there is family. A new house, where to start. That place where to build. The language affects me so much. And 'my language is the pronunciation that I tend to imitate when I speak. It is no longer English, American. I feel myself and I'm more and more I realize that I still want to learn.
The climate is very pleasant, is just the thing for me. To wear a sweater over the summer tan, or find out your arms during the winter, much like here.
In Santa Monica seemed winter! We arrived late and the clouds have taken over the wide beach Baywatch huge, with lots of young Brazilian lifeguard. Colors are really beautiful. The Pier, the pier, is special. He has something of a Gothic with these clouds. Bello, despite I was a bit 'removed.
The walk is the largest pedestrian street full of LA. A wealth of shops, artists and restaurants. A great way to greet the Angels before leaving for Las Vegas, where a moment of despair he had not taken aback. I could not help myself, do not even understand what triggers my tears, but at that moment I wanted to be alone in the dark of the beach of Santa Monica, looking at my colorful pier, to make him all the compliments he wished. Instead I was the only table in the middle of the room had that restaurant, his eyes focused on German and English, the beautiful voice of an American who pierced my ears, while I tried not to think about how nice it was there and how I was ruining the moment with tears. Needed was that there were Italians to see me cry.
The day after Las Vegas welcomed me with open arms, stab me before. The heat was a blow to my body weakened by the first three days of sun-based salads, excluding dinner at the Hard Rock.
In Las Vegas you pay even the air we breathe. In Las Vegas, if you're not careful, pay also get the information. Luckily there was Randal to help me when I had to cancel the hotel in Page. He looked me in the area code and he borrowed the phone from a colleague to make the call, if made from the hotel, would cost twenty dollars. The reason to stay in Las Vegas was the fear of taking the car to move a page. Along the way we saw tire completely eaten hot from the asphalt and, speaking with an Italian who had our own intentions to turn the car in Arizona, we let it scare you. Or rather, I would have taken anyway, but I was not alone to decide. Maybe because I'm young and inexperienced and, if not slam the nose, difficult to understand how far you can go. Yes, maybe I'm naive, but I do not know another way to gain experience. I do not think enough to be told things grow.
probably if we had that morning matches for Page, I would not have felt bad. But this is only theory. As luck would have it that morning I revolted entrails. Paris hotel wanted me to come and listen to all damned ways to try with a person, in English and French were repeated, first female, then the male, trivial to the core, as stupid as hunger. More dying in there, plus I wanted the voices would stop bothering me. Cold sweating, trembling, I was standing. After an hour I had someone call from a lady who was sick before they realize that meant I left the bathroom and told him with that face. In English, yes, but with that face. E 'immediately rush to call the paramedics, who have not been slow. They made me millions of questions to which I have attempted to answer, despite the confusion of the moment. I have not fainted, but I was more there than here.
When I raised my head from the toilet, in a face convulsed, the uniform that made me the requests turned out to be a woman with eyes as blue as the sky. Its label said it was called Catherine. Her hair tied in a ponytail, the expression serious, mature, those who have the situation under control, but still a bit 'worried. Two blue eyes, in fact, many tricks, but beautiful.
Focusing these details could not think of the fire inside me, even if sometimes distracted me from his questions and was eager to come out. Several times he measured my blood pressure and, touching his forehead, told me that was boiling and my heart was beating strong. I tried to tell her immediately that I wanted to go to the hospital and she went along, trying to calm down too. The other paramedics tried to do me a vial of something, but my veins gliel'hanno permission. I still have the sign. Slowly I reached
other paramedics, or do not know, someone in uniform. The aunt could not explain, even in English. I was my only salvation. Finally, thought should be taken to hospital, so I was loaded onto a stretcher and the ambulance took me to the emergency room. ER, emergency, was written above. Catherine has disappeared and been replaced by a much younger boy, who looked at me with eyes like that. He also repeated all the questions, apologizing for what might seem intimate. I remember telling him not to worry, but no, there was the risk I was pregnant. It 'was on the ball, like everybody else. I made an infusion of something that I just calmed down, before arriving in emergency.
There, I have stuck my hospital gown, just one of the movies, and everything seemed an episode of ER. I was shaking as a leaf, my skin felt ice. After the analysis, I fell asleep all afternoon. The diagnosis was then an infection, as well as a suspected heat stroke. I was given medication and discharged as soon as the drip I had calmed down completely. Exhausted, the Flamingo me wrapped in his blankets for two days. I could not move, the only movement was allotted from my body involuntarily shivering. Behind the veil of the eyes, the window of my hotel room allowed me to see the city and rejuvenate aging, night and day, darkness and light.
We then called another doctor to visit me in the room. The Flamingo is not a doctor. No hotel there was a doctor. At best, they give you a number and the call is still in charge. So, I called Dr Lissau. A weird, in Hawaiian shirt, who first wrote to visit me a million things on paper. His diagnosis was a further infection of the airways, thyroiditis, and gave me more antibiotics. Yes, oh well. Thyroiditis? Mah The fact is that I took her medicine once and I lost everything. Everything! I kept taking it and I did take the money back to the visit, and confirmed that I was much better. He also got to use a bikini at the pool. A bikini. He said he has many because it makes them his brother, but when he wanted to measure it, I sent away. Meanwhile, the bikinis are taking me. It 's a bit transparent, but nice. In the afternoon, then I immediately put on for a dip in the pool, where I met some Canadian guys who attacked the button with the excuse to be occurring in my photo. Very nice.
Fortunately, with my healing, the coming of the "fresh". 40 ° from the first night, the thermometer of Las Vegas at night fell to 35-34 degrees. In short, acceptable. Last night it rained, a show. I half expected to see the smoke appear above the asphalt. That city it's really hellish.
The most beautiful hotel has confirmed the Bellagio, but the most scenoso for me remains the Stratosphere with its impressive tower. The Fremont Street Experience was very good, but I expected something more. I'm not sure what, but more.
Las Vegas is its fountains. E 'Luck Be A Lady Frank Sinatra, or Elvis Viva Las Vegas. Las Vegas Stratosphere Tower is the blue balloon and Paris. Las Vegas is the sparkle of sequins, the posters of the club is for men only. Las Vegas is, unfortunately, pop tickets against the fingers of selling Mexican night's fire with young girls. Las Vegas is brilliant and horrible. It 's beautiful and cruel. But I am convinced that you know to do its worst side, as if it was the best one. You can not choose which side to know her. She buys you one, and I will have to be enough. If you want to know really do not have to walk on the Strip.
I had to see it. I had to deal with the American side that the more hate and Las Vegas there is a good deal.
But as I was sure before, now that I have been there: in America I feel at home. And Los Angeles, more than Las Vegas, fits me like a glove.
It was not by chance that returned to LA for the tattoo. American ink under the skin, to belong to a little 'more.
I do not know how I feel on this side of the world. I guess I'm still not returned at all. In fact, it is more difficult and tiring to the effect of time here.
I think I stayed in the middle, as if I could not tear myself away, if something held me glued.
This time my feet are swollen. The trip was tiring.
My America has remained there, waiting for me to convince myself that it is closer, which is not hard to get. E is not difficult to reach. It is not difficult to talk to her. And 'my, I have it under the skin.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
How To Be A Good Chikan Advice
flamingo_road @ 2010-07-31T16: 09:00
I greeted everyone, or almost. I'm really about to board a plane for the United States? Yes Yes, I'm really starting to America. What a laugh last year when I said to my friend in Scotland: oh, next summer in America! believing only half. But soon after I started to believe it really. Long before the Belgian, but not before in Norway.
Many people ask me what I hope to find, or what I'm going to do, or why America and why do I take in this way. Some say that America is hypocritical, which is consistent with others, and others that has no history.
To me America is the opposite of where I live. I do not want to be always one step behind. America is the values that raised me. And yes, yes, you drive too soon, you shoot too easily, you're out of ten Americans are obese. But I've always been accustomed to look on the bright side, to eat the healthy part of the apple, not the gear. I do not like my country more, there are too few opportunities to leave me, holding me now increasingly weakly. Italy will have a more prosperous and history to be proud of, but now it is rotting slowly and almost fail to notice, if not travel.
America has a side which continues to struggle for the future. Italy is strong in its Mediterranean diet, but then what? Italy has the Colosseum, Michelangelo, the gondolas. All we estimate, appreciate us, copy our style, but then what? Everything belongs to the past, everything revolves around something that we did. Our large have gone too long and what we are doing for us? What are we leaving it to others? Who would have respect for us, if we had our history? Everything is gone. Italy is old and boring. Italy eat healthy, but does not produce news. Italy is a hypocrite, preaching the mafia and well but has not let us marry.
This place is white on my map, it is empty, it is turned off. I only love my city, but because it is mine. I only love my family, my friends and my sea. I love my island, but if I could, I would choose to return, not to live there.
Some would say that the answer is no escape. Forse è vero, ma non credo di poter dare il meglio di me restando qua. I do not think that will meet and assist.
E non è vero che non sono orgogliosa di essere europea. Lo sono. Solo che l'Europa non è pronta.
Darò un'occhiata, magari mi sbaglio. Magari cadranno tutte le mie convinzioni e dovrò ricominciare tutto da zero. O magari no.
I greeted everyone, or almost. I'm really about to board a plane for the United States? Yes Yes, I'm really starting to America. What a laugh last year when I said to my friend in Scotland: oh, next summer in America! believing only half. But soon after I started to believe it really. Long before the Belgian, but not before in Norway.
Many people ask me what I hope to find, or what I'm going to do, or why America and why do I take in this way. Some say that America is hypocritical, which is consistent with others, and others that has no history.
To me America is the opposite of where I live. I do not want to be always one step behind. America is the values that raised me. And yes, yes, you drive too soon, you shoot too easily, you're out of ten Americans are obese. But I've always been accustomed to look on the bright side, to eat the healthy part of the apple, not the gear. I do not like my country more, there are too few opportunities to leave me, holding me now increasingly weakly. Italy will have a more prosperous and history to be proud of, but now it is rotting slowly and almost fail to notice, if not travel.
America has a side which continues to struggle for the future. Italy is strong in its Mediterranean diet, but then what? Italy has the Colosseum, Michelangelo, the gondolas. All we estimate, appreciate us, copy our style, but then what? Everything belongs to the past, everything revolves around something that we did. Our large have gone too long and what we are doing for us? What are we leaving it to others? Who would have respect for us, if we had our history? Everything is gone. Italy is old and boring. Italy eat healthy, but does not produce news. Italy is a hypocrite, preaching the mafia and well but has not let us marry.
This place is white on my map, it is empty, it is turned off. I only love my city, but because it is mine. I only love my family, my friends and my sea. I love my island, but if I could, I would choose to return, not to live there.
Some would say that the answer is no escape. Forse è vero, ma non credo di poter dare il meglio di me restando qua. I do not think that will meet and assist.
E non è vero che non sono orgogliosa di essere europea. Lo sono. Solo che l'Europa non è pronta.
Darò un'occhiata, magari mi sbaglio. Magari cadranno tutte le mie convinzioni e dovrò ricominciare tutto da zero. O magari no.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
2006 Bootlegs Pearl Jam Store
flamingo_road @ 2010-07-25T23: 00:00
Sembrano preferibili queste emozioni leggere, fresche, che passeggiano con me, ma non mi scavano dentro. Sono più gestibili, più semplici, quasi rilassanti. L'ansia non mi frena, niente mi terrorizza. Queste emozioni a metà, con dei limiti, che non raggiungono mai quella silenziosa parte di me, mi fanno un po' felice. Almeno non devo preoccuparmi del contraccolpo. Sono sincere, do not ever stab in the back. Are not complicated, they can only give us smiles. They make me happy, but without being moved. And I'm so happy, why move me makes me ashamed to feel an emotion so strong, a joy so great as to hurt hold it in his hands. As if burned. I do not want to suffer with being a waste of emotion that for my veins.
And I come to find once a year, once every second, once every ten, maybe. It was not enough to have eyes for someone, they want me to fall prey to someone. Now not just a concert, they want to make me tremble. Time travel is not enough, they want me to be reborn elsewhere. New eyes for new places. New leather branded. So when I come back I feel so out of place, but the memory will be heartbreaking. This is the love and, like any intense joy, will always, always so bad.
Sembrano preferibili queste emozioni leggere, fresche, che passeggiano con me, ma non mi scavano dentro. Sono più gestibili, più semplici, quasi rilassanti. L'ansia non mi frena, niente mi terrorizza. Queste emozioni a metà, con dei limiti, che non raggiungono mai quella silenziosa parte di me, mi fanno un po' felice. Almeno non devo preoccuparmi del contraccolpo. Sono sincere, do not ever stab in the back. Are not complicated, they can only give us smiles. They make me happy, but without being moved. And I'm so happy, why move me makes me ashamed to feel an emotion so strong, a joy so great as to hurt hold it in his hands. As if burned. I do not want to suffer with being a waste of emotion that for my veins.
And I come to find once a year, once every second, once every ten, maybe. It was not enough to have eyes for someone, they want me to fall prey to someone. Now not just a concert, they want to make me tremble. Time travel is not enough, they want me to be reborn elsewhere. New eyes for new places. New leather branded. So when I come back I feel so out of place, but the memory will be heartbreaking. This is the love and, like any intense joy, will always, always so bad.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Poster Mit Nadine Jansen
flamingo_road @ 2010-07-23T15: 01:00
How do I feel, if not the luckiest person in the world? As a young man with a bag full of stimuli felt more excited to meet me?
I feel so, as if someone had stuck my head firmly in the coffee. I feel so strongly as if they swim in a fluid that makes me strong, that opens my eyes. All of my efforts are rewarded with more energy, hard work but do not sweat, and, as sudo, I get rewarded by a greater beauty.
Not even a year since I became a complete vegetarian, but since I deleted the last animal bite, I feel another.
I rebuilt, reconstructed. I feel new, better, more beautiful. I feel almost magical, as if I were able to do anything. And they are, within the limits of the human.
Not even a year job, but this experience has opened the doors of the airport that there is more majestic and inviting. E 'by less than a year that really live? No, definitely not, but many lessons to help find ways to live better. It is not always the beatings to grow an individual. Even caresses work.
The secret is to be willing to listen. But very often a hurry, too impatient to live, too much desire to play with that toy, without losing time to mount it.
I'm lucky, I was born with the patience already placed on the bottom of my bag. I just had to take it out and learn how to dose it. I am lucky because I went along with that also comes with fear and courage, respectively stored in the side pockets of my bag. The fear I need to reason, to silence the instinct, natural in every animal, to recognize what is needed and what to avoid. Courage, however, I need to give voice to the stimuli that slowly gather, keep, and slowly quench the thirst I meet along the steps that I proposed.
Sometimes I doing proposals, but should go some time for them to be evaluated and, finally, accepted.
I do not believe in a god, but I believe that each of them actually has something interesting to tell, something good to offer, but when the man makes them too similar to themselves, lose their luster. I do not believe in people, they come and go. I do not believe in their stories, believe in their experiences when they show me the fruits, their scars, their skills and know how to exploit. In this belief, in the absorption knowledge and learning. I believe in science, when done well.
I believe in the capacity, innate or acquired, and in their exploitation. Maybe it's not very scientific, but I believe that every individual has a purpose, which was dedicated to each task a recognized ability to learn to operate along the route so that it can bear fruit for themselves and for others. I
I found my, but I will not be happy until I perfected it. In fact, I believe that everyone has several to choose from and who can improve them and use them all has my respect.
There who has an innate ability to love. He who gives all of himself to others, even strangers, who cares for the children, the elderly, anyone who needs it. About
in friendship is never selfish, the couple who has a single point of reference. The love they give is their skill. A gift, indeed. Difficult to learn.
I love you, yes, but not so. The few times that I loved more than now, I almost go crazy. Now I'm in love less, but longer and not people. Now is the sound of words that move me in a foreign language, is the scent that not perceived from the windows of this country.
I do not like me when I fall in love people, I lose my mind and it is not easy to notice the dark or light. I do not see anymore. And 'as if I were no longer me, as if my body was sealed inside a clear plastic bag off, put under vacuum, and if my robot to make decisions without considering that the brain has been suffocated under the plastic .
But this is not the only way to love, I am convinced that there is a healthy way of giving to others. I have a lifetime to find out. Today I
stimuli, I love what I do, I love who accompanies me, even if its choices were to get him to leave. The respect.
I love being cold in the summer, get in a couple of long sleeves and cover your skin tan.
I love languages that are not mine and I love when they start to belong to, little by little, meaning after meaning.
I love to sit at a table in a room so obvious that, if he were here, never attending. I love the typical, when I'm not home.
I love perfection, because I ride, but fall victim to the unexpected is almost a relief.
I love the London sky, oh how I love it! I love the foam, the trail left by the ferry that takes me from coast to coast, through a "monstrous" lake, to reach an island that houses the museum more attractive.
I love to read the signs on the highways, which turn from green to blue. I love
as highway, I love breakfast in roadside restaurants.
I love the postcards. I love to choose them, I love to write, I love the original paste on a stamp, I love to read them all in one breath before I slip through the hands, I love to greet them before leaving, I love to send them. It is a ritual, is the best moment of the trip.
I love to travel, everything. I also love the time before the trip, which can be particularly long. This is one of those, is a preparation and lasts for eight months, but I am convinced that will not suffice.
On August two thousand and will touch the other side of the world. For ten days I will live a unique experience, my American experience. The first. And certainly not the last.
How do I feel, if not the luckiest person in the world? As a young man with a bag full of stimuli felt more excited to meet me?
I feel so, as if someone had stuck my head firmly in the coffee. I feel so strongly as if they swim in a fluid that makes me strong, that opens my eyes. All of my efforts are rewarded with more energy, hard work but do not sweat, and, as sudo, I get rewarded by a greater beauty.
Not even a year since I became a complete vegetarian, but since I deleted the last animal bite, I feel another.
I rebuilt, reconstructed. I feel new, better, more beautiful. I feel almost magical, as if I were able to do anything. And they are, within the limits of the human.
Not even a year job, but this experience has opened the doors of the airport that there is more majestic and inviting. E 'by less than a year that really live? No, definitely not, but many lessons to help find ways to live better. It is not always the beatings to grow an individual. Even caresses work.
The secret is to be willing to listen. But very often a hurry, too impatient to live, too much desire to play with that toy, without losing time to mount it.
I'm lucky, I was born with the patience already placed on the bottom of my bag. I just had to take it out and learn how to dose it. I am lucky because I went along with that also comes with fear and courage, respectively stored in the side pockets of my bag. The fear I need to reason, to silence the instinct, natural in every animal, to recognize what is needed and what to avoid. Courage, however, I need to give voice to the stimuli that slowly gather, keep, and slowly quench the thirst I meet along the steps that I proposed.
Sometimes I doing proposals, but should go some time for them to be evaluated and, finally, accepted.
I do not believe in a god, but I believe that each of them actually has something interesting to tell, something good to offer, but when the man makes them too similar to themselves, lose their luster. I do not believe in people, they come and go. I do not believe in their stories, believe in their experiences when they show me the fruits, their scars, their skills and know how to exploit. In this belief, in the absorption knowledge and learning. I believe in science, when done well.
I believe in the capacity, innate or acquired, and in their exploitation. Maybe it's not very scientific, but I believe that every individual has a purpose, which was dedicated to each task a recognized ability to learn to operate along the route so that it can bear fruit for themselves and for others. I
I found my, but I will not be happy until I perfected it. In fact, I believe that everyone has several to choose from and who can improve them and use them all has my respect.
There who has an innate ability to love. He who gives all of himself to others, even strangers, who cares for the children, the elderly, anyone who needs it. About
in friendship is never selfish, the couple who has a single point of reference. The love they give is their skill. A gift, indeed. Difficult to learn.
I love you, yes, but not so. The few times that I loved more than now, I almost go crazy. Now I'm in love less, but longer and not people. Now is the sound of words that move me in a foreign language, is the scent that not perceived from the windows of this country.
I do not like me when I fall in love people, I lose my mind and it is not easy to notice the dark or light. I do not see anymore. And 'as if I were no longer me, as if my body was sealed inside a clear plastic bag off, put under vacuum, and if my robot to make decisions without considering that the brain has been suffocated under the plastic .
But this is not the only way to love, I am convinced that there is a healthy way of giving to others. I have a lifetime to find out. Today I
stimuli, I love what I do, I love who accompanies me, even if its choices were to get him to leave. The respect.
I love being cold in the summer, get in a couple of long sleeves and cover your skin tan.
I love languages that are not mine and I love when they start to belong to, little by little, meaning after meaning.
I love to sit at a table in a room so obvious that, if he were here, never attending. I love the typical, when I'm not home.
I love perfection, because I ride, but fall victim to the unexpected is almost a relief.
I love the London sky, oh how I love it! I love the foam, the trail left by the ferry that takes me from coast to coast, through a "monstrous" lake, to reach an island that houses the museum more attractive.
I love to read the signs on the highways, which turn from green to blue. I love
as highway, I love breakfast in roadside restaurants.
I love the postcards. I love to choose them, I love to write, I love the original paste on a stamp, I love to read them all in one breath before I slip through the hands, I love to greet them before leaving, I love to send them. It is a ritual, is the best moment of the trip.
I love to travel, everything. I also love the time before the trip, which can be particularly long. This is one of those, is a preparation and lasts for eight months, but I am convinced that will not suffice.
On August two thousand and will touch the other side of the world. For ten days I will live a unique experience, my American experience. The first. And certainly not the last.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Interview Thank You Email Ok?
I can not exist without you.
25 College Street
My dearest Girl,
This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else - The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life - My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving - I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love - You note came in just here - I cannot be happier away from you - 'T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a Power I can not resist: and yet I Could resist till I saw you, and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured Often "to Reason Against The Reasons Of My Love." I can do that no more - Would the pain be too great - My Love is selfish - I can not breathe without you. Yours for ever
John Keats
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Visual Kei Dressing Ideas
Nemorense @ 2010-07-18T16: 39:00
I went back to Pisa for a couple of days. I have to thank everyone from C. I visited and the contubernali to G. and A. that have really made a mad rush to greet me and offer me lunch, for AV invited me to dinner, trying to organize the evening, and that once they knew that I came back just to say hello (as well as for the company dinner), the professor and his wife for their aperitif, GF because he always knows exactly what to say, I talked to Ema of Europe, Lez that I missed a lot, to Professor L. I work with the absolute clarity with which he has dispelled the doubts, J. for informing me of S. and have stopped to talk with extreme courtesy to C. B for the gossip and LC to be there forever and always find the funny in the situation. A Nadi to be absolutely as it is and for the company (also appreciate the fact that they have checked that there were some meetings). A
M. that I was missing the beautiful store.
thank everyone, who was not I was very sorry, but I know that many (almost all) were absent entirely justified.
Greetings to all
E.
I went back to Pisa for a couple of days. I have to thank everyone from C. I visited and the contubernali to G. and A. that have really made a mad rush to greet me and offer me lunch, for AV invited me to dinner, trying to organize the evening, and that once they knew that I came back just to say hello (as well as for the company dinner), the professor and his wife for their aperitif, GF because he always knows exactly what to say, I talked to Ema of Europe, Lez that I missed a lot, to Professor L. I work with the absolute clarity with which he has dispelled the doubts, J. for informing me of S. and have stopped to talk with extreme courtesy to C. B for the gossip and LC to be there forever and always find the funny in the situation. A Nadi to be absolutely as it is and for the company (also appreciate the fact that they have checked that there were some meetings). A
M. that I was missing the beautiful store.
thank everyone, who was not I was very sorry, but I know that many (almost all) were absent entirely justified.
Greetings to all
E.
Denise Mialni Toplles
thanks
I would like to thank in this post and absolutely do not want to be words of mere form, the wonderful hospitality offered by C. in Pisa. Simply outstanding, discreet, generous.
thank the talk at night and I apologize if I crashed yesterday to sleep without even realizing it, I fear that the heat has destroyed me.
Thanks for listening to my Paturnie and I hope to see you soon, it was really a pleasant stay. A hug
e.
I would like to thank in this post and absolutely do not want to be words of mere form, the wonderful hospitality offered by C. in Pisa. Simply outstanding, discreet, generous.
thank the talk at night and I apologize if I crashed yesterday to sleep without even realizing it, I fear that the heat has destroyed me.
Thanks for listening to my Paturnie and I hope to see you soon, it was really a pleasant stay. A hug
e.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Show Me How To Give A Brazillian Wax
flamingo_road @ 2010-07-10T09: 56:00
If only I remember you. What I left you, what have you left me. You must be a fantastic place, I'm sure to have you worship.
If only I remember you. What I left you, what have you left me. You must be a fantastic place, I'm sure to have you worship.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
How To Make Trading Cards Holographic
Nemorense @ 2010-07-08T21: 38:00
The truth is that since I know you I'm happy. The truth is that you know to see you every day makes me run to you, my love.
'm seven months and one week (day most days at least) that I bear.
Thanks to exist, my love. A big kiss
The truth is that since I know you I'm happy. The truth is that you know to see you every day makes me run to you, my love.
'm seven months and one week (day most days at least) that I bear.
Thanks to exist, my love. A big kiss
Friday, July 2, 2010
Watch Pinky And The Brainonline Free
flamingo_road @ 2010-07-02T15: 48:00 Have
I think I know people around me, to know exactly what to think, what are his intentions, his emotions, what surprises him, what does not. I know his needs, but only those posters. His fears, but only those who find comfort in my presence. I do not know concerns that are not capable of healing. I do not know them because no one submits them, thinking they could be the only masters of their own panic. I think I have an idea of people who have crossed and then moved away, or are about to do it, but do not really know them. Each of these approaches because I want something that can satisfy a habit, a desire. Someone wants to browse a bit, 'see what's behind here, who hide too well, so maybe you can spend ten minutes with laughter, or feel proud of having discovered America. What I did not realize is that most search and less is more and less present calls. There is nothing that can give him back here.
Someone needs my practical help someone just for company. Every time someone wants to be my friend, then changes his mind. Somebody tries, then changes his mind. Someone can then change your mind.
Anybody want my writing, some of my language, my eye on someone wants to feel respected. Someone wants me to play a little '. Someone wants to be me.
I think I understand everything, but I am convinced that I do not really know anyone well. And no one I know me. Served to do something to help, love one way, the company, but I do not see anything other than a disposable relationship. I have no reason to make me curious if the interest is not the end for me, but what I can do or come to believe.
I think I know people around me, to know exactly what to think, what are his intentions, his emotions, what surprises him, what does not. I know his needs, but only those posters. His fears, but only those who find comfort in my presence. I do not know concerns that are not capable of healing. I do not know them because no one submits them, thinking they could be the only masters of their own panic. I think I have an idea of people who have crossed and then moved away, or are about to do it, but do not really know them. Each of these approaches because I want something that can satisfy a habit, a desire. Someone wants to browse a bit, 'see what's behind here, who hide too well, so maybe you can spend ten minutes with laughter, or feel proud of having discovered America. What I did not realize is that most search and less is more and less present calls. There is nothing that can give him back here.
Someone needs my practical help someone just for company. Every time someone wants to be my friend, then changes his mind. Somebody tries, then changes his mind. Someone can then change your mind.
Anybody want my writing, some of my language, my eye on someone wants to feel respected. Someone wants me to play a little '. Someone wants to be me.
I think I understand everything, but I am convinced that I do not really know anyone well. And no one I know me. Served to do something to help, love one way, the company, but I do not see anything other than a disposable relationship. I have no reason to make me curious if the interest is not the end for me, but what I can do or come to believe.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Dressy Dresses For 13 Year Old
Nemorense @ 2010-06-26T20: 35:00
I am the girl kicked out of her home because i confided in my mother that i am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets Because nobody will hire a transsexual woman. I am the sister who
Holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried Our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital Because They Would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room. The
am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t Have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped Attending church, not because i do not believe, But Because They Closed Their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
~ * ~ Repost this in your journal if you believe homophobia is wrong.
~ * ~ ~ * ~ Spread the love. ~ * ~
I am the girl kicked out of her home because i confided in my mother that i am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets Because nobody will hire a transsexual woman. I am the sister who
Holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried Our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital Because They Would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room. The
am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t Have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped Attending church, not because i do not believe, But Because They Closed Their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
~ * ~ Repost this in your journal if you believe homophobia is wrong.
~ * ~ ~ * ~ Spread the love. ~ * ~
Friday, June 18, 2010
Rubbermaid Trash Can Lid Replacement
Nemorense @ 2010-06-18T22: 46:00
The first time I saw "Que Tal?" Goya I was 6 years. It 'strange to say, but it was the thing that impressed me most was a trip to France.
That must be why I have never endured the ugly clothes.
It 's true, the sense of Caprices and work of Goya is not only that, but cafonaggine and excess and absurdity making fun of them ... You are about to see if that would be taken with the fashion bloggers (or how you spell it?) And mind-blowing things I see daily, real abominations to taste a kiss
= e.
The first time I saw "Que Tal?" Goya I was 6 years. It 'strange to say, but it was the thing that impressed me most was a trip to France.
That must be why I have never endured the ugly clothes.
It 's true, the sense of Caprices and work of Goya is not only that, but cafonaggine and excess and absurdity making fun of them ... You are about to see if that would be taken with the fashion bloggers (or how you spell it?) And mind-blowing things I see daily, real abominations to taste a kiss
= e.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Display Ip Cctv On Tv
flamingo_road @ 2010-06-13T22: 43:00
There are times when I want to be silent, when I think of not doing wrong none, in which I need not be concerned if I do it. Times when I just want my presence, when I think no one can depend on me, because I would not be able to handle it, to make pleasing his days.
Then there are times when they knock on the door and want to be with me, only me. They do not want anything, just look at me, just stay with me. It seems that they understand who is to be contacted. Their love is unconditional, pure and simple. Their love is lifting his head from the bowl to check if they still sitting next to them to join him. Their Love is the mood if I'm there. I am not able to repay the whole beauty of the emotions that I have sent them, but I can thank them for letting me know. They too are my family.
There are times when I want to be silent, when I think of not doing wrong none, in which I need not be concerned if I do it. Times when I just want my presence, when I think no one can depend on me, because I would not be able to handle it, to make pleasing his days.
Then there are times when they knock on the door and want to be with me, only me. They do not want anything, just look at me, just stay with me. It seems that they understand who is to be contacted. Their love is unconditional, pure and simple. Their love is lifting his head from the bowl to check if they still sitting next to them to join him. Their Love is the mood if I'm there. I am not able to repay the whole beauty of the emotions that I have sent them, but I can thank them for letting me know. They too are my family.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Nvidia Pci Bridge Device Driver
flamingo_road @ 2010-06-10T23: 23:00
If it were a woman and ask me who is the love of my life, I would answer "you." If it had two eyes and a mouth, I lost myself in his eyes and I would spend my time to kiss her. If I turn back, grabs her and say she is mine and can not leave. She belongs to me even though she was not born with me. She lifts me up when I drag on the asphalt. You understand me, because I understand her. You are me and I am her. I know that I did not need anything else, I know what my life, I know where is my life. Our place is not here and, day after day, I feel my skin sticky, jelly like rain. Day after day I feel hampered in everything I do.
But I can not disappear, I can not give love to chase another.
If it were a woman and ask me who is the love of my life, I would answer "you." If it had two eyes and a mouth, I lost myself in his eyes and I would spend my time to kiss her. If I turn back, grabs her and say she is mine and can not leave. She belongs to me even though she was not born with me. She lifts me up when I drag on the asphalt. You understand me, because I understand her. You are me and I am her. I know that I did not need anything else, I know what my life, I know where is my life. Our place is not here and, day after day, I feel my skin sticky, jelly like rain. Day after day I feel hampered in everything I do.
But I can not disappear, I can not give love to chase another.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Microwave Leak Detector Home Depot
swear they do metal in Latin
talked to my boyfriend and I discovered that knows them.
ok ... now called the neuro?
http://www.myspace.com/adeproject
really play well and groups rudra Ancient Greek metal.
should not know, I'm sick.
I only have one serious question, but they saw that is what the Latin sounds of Latin American (made by people Caribbean) as they can define their metal?
talked to my boyfriend and I discovered that knows them.
ok ... now called the neuro?
http://www.myspace.com/adeproject
really play well and groups rudra Ancient Greek metal.
should not know, I'm sick.
I only have one serious question, but they saw that is what the Latin sounds of Latin American (made by people Caribbean) as they can define their metal?
Friday, June 4, 2010
Need To Write A Report On Community Service
flamingo_road @ 2010-06-05T01:24:00
a few months I will go back to these moments. Rewind the days passed and still enjoy the joys that now walking on my skin, in the hope that the memories to take back these strong flavors. Change colors. Everything that exists only in the rare cases where it will be recalled, when you browse those snapshots of what has been, always faded.
I want to go back but I can not, so I'm happy to notice now.
a few months I will go back to these moments. Rewind the days passed and still enjoy the joys that now walking on my skin, in the hope that the memories to take back these strong flavors. Change colors. Everything that exists only in the rare cases where it will be recalled, when you browse those snapshots of what has been, always faded.
I want to go back but I can not, so I'm happy to notice now.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Minnetonka Kitty Suede Moccasins
flamingo_road @ 2010-06-01T22:55:00
I just do not get it. I do not get why girls act like this. They know Appear enthusiastic of getting to know me, They Seem so curious about me, they're Instantly fall for my eyes, for my hair, for my Femininity, Which Is So Easy, But They freak out and vanish Suddenly When They Realize I'm Not Like Them. I'm Not Like Them, What the Hell Is This Supposed To Mean? Am I too shy for Them? Am I too naive? Am I too unapproachable or unemotional? I think the deal is that I'm too deep for Them. I'm Too Much For Them. They can not handle me. That's the reason why girls dump me, But Only After Being dull and clingy, Which puts my patience to the test.
I just do not get it. I do not get why girls act like this. They know Appear enthusiastic of getting to know me, They Seem so curious about me, they're Instantly fall for my eyes, for my hair, for my Femininity, Which Is So Easy, But They freak out and vanish Suddenly When They Realize I'm Not Like Them. I'm Not Like Them, What the Hell Is This Supposed To Mean? Am I too shy for Them? Am I too naive? Am I too unapproachable or unemotional? I think the deal is that I'm too deep for Them. I'm Too Much For Them. They can not handle me. That's the reason why girls dump me, But Only After Being dull and clingy, Which puts my patience to the test.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Floodinsuranceprocessingcenter
flamingo_road @ 2010-05-31T16:54:00
My mother says that this summer will be fantastic for the lion. My mother did not said, but I think it will be a pleasant summer for cancer. If nothing else, will be happy for the lion.
Perhaps the last, then some bad fairy will cast a spell and turn it into walls and floors of an apartment to rent Cagliari. I wonder, you can not rent the house we already have? He leaves a piece of our lives! If it goes my childhood, almost all of my birthdays, all tan, all the hiding, all messages sent by the window, under the stars, all love, all the energy accumulated during the year, summer, winter , Spring. If it all goes again. If the rent for all the summer would not be a capital firm. If rented, it would still be our home. Our small cottage. And we could go back in any time, choose to spend ten days without rent.
seems to be destined to relive it again. When parking in these balconies is a dense to remind me that I do not live there anymore. That my bedroom is an intimate gathering of emotions, that my desk is not a piece of wood that saw me grow and has borne the burden of huge puppets rose, or what books or that of an old computer . That the handle does not creaking anymore, that the towel is left of the sink, the walls are plasterboard, which, oh, the sliding door! I will not feel anymore someone whistling from the villa in front to draw my attention. Never again I will have my best friends at your house phone. Nobody tells me to get off . Nobody tells me to find the step. No one will ask me to play tennis in square. Nobody will wait for me to his garage, with the stereo blaring. And no one will do more crazy Clara, so if you do not take with me.
Now I have to relive it? I have to let the cash you take home? My garden, my loft my bed?
I am happy in this house. My room is distracting, but I finally plenty of room for my postcards, photos, paintings. Can I try all the romance of the fire in the fireplace, or relax in the courtyard, but mostly I have my dogs. Our old apartment quartuccese gave us our dogs.
Our charming cottage will be used to something that maybe I will see too late. In the meantime I can only regret.
My mother says that this summer will be fantastic for the lion. My mother did not said, but I think it will be a pleasant summer for cancer. If nothing else, will be happy for the lion.
Perhaps the last, then some bad fairy will cast a spell and turn it into walls and floors of an apartment to rent Cagliari. I wonder, you can not rent the house we already have? He leaves a piece of our lives! If it goes my childhood, almost all of my birthdays, all tan, all the hiding, all messages sent by the window, under the stars, all love, all the energy accumulated during the year, summer, winter , Spring. If it all goes again. If the rent for all the summer would not be a capital firm. If rented, it would still be our home. Our small cottage. And we could go back in any time, choose to spend ten days without rent.
seems to be destined to relive it again. When parking in these balconies is a dense to remind me that I do not live there anymore. That my bedroom is an intimate gathering of emotions, that my desk is not a piece of wood that saw me grow and has borne the burden of huge puppets rose, or what books or that of an old computer . That the handle does not creaking anymore, that the towel is left of the sink, the walls are plasterboard, which, oh, the sliding door! I will not feel anymore someone whistling from the villa in front to draw my attention. Never again I will have my best friends at your house phone. Nobody tells me to get off . Nobody tells me to find the step. No one will ask me to play tennis in square. Nobody will wait for me to his garage, with the stereo blaring. And no one will do more crazy Clara, so if you do not take with me.
Now I have to relive it? I have to let the cash you take home? My garden, my loft my bed?
I am happy in this house. My room is distracting, but I finally plenty of room for my postcards, photos, paintings. Can I try all the romance of the fire in the fireplace, or relax in the courtyard, but mostly I have my dogs. Our old apartment quartuccese gave us our dogs.
Our charming cottage will be used to something that maybe I will see too late. In the meantime I can only regret.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Why Does My Stomach Stick In In The Middle
flamingo_road @ 2010-05-28T15:15:00
Today I thought about it, and fill orders on the Matrix. They give the best wishes of happy birthday to your boss? No, no, better, give you my best wishes for a happy birthday to a person who never manifests itself, if not exclusively in the form of names, enough to discount the truth, but entirely justified by the dull office life, created by clever minds of subordinates? A person who knows how to be your own boss, but do not know it at all? A person so overworked that we poor handyman, we have not even hope to be able to greet in the hallway? Of course, in the hall there are people who do not work. So it will never happen to see the boss. Never. It will always be on the phone / mobile device in his office, whose door is always closed and the building is the only one not to be made of glass. And if he were to leave his office, he can not never see us, because we'll be leaning on a photocopier or behind the screen of our tractor, because ours is a PC that has the same potential for a tractor and emits the same, scary noises.
For me the problem does not arise. I have too many chiefs in order to know the reactions of all for a possible surge of this type. Not that I would, if I had one. No, I'm not a person to drive, I think. And, as say those who left me on the street, not a boring person who fits the funereal atmosphere of an office. I enjoy a casino in the office!
So in conclusion, hope you do or not? I speak of conditions normal and normal people. I would not expect my mother to go from that to wish her, of course. Would also be able to tell you about his wishes, in person, clearly, is not the time and place to send the fax!
Today I thought about it, and fill orders on the Matrix. They give the best wishes of happy birthday to your boss? No, no, better, give you my best wishes for a happy birthday to a person who never manifests itself, if not exclusively in the form of names, enough to discount the truth, but entirely justified by the dull office life, created by clever minds of subordinates? A person who knows how to be your own boss, but do not know it at all? A person so overworked that we poor handyman, we have not even hope to be able to greet in the hallway? Of course, in the hall there are people who do not work. So it will never happen to see the boss. Never. It will always be on the phone / mobile device in his office, whose door is always closed and the building is the only one not to be made of glass. And if he were to leave his office, he can not never see us, because we'll be leaning on a photocopier or behind the screen of our tractor, because ours is a PC that has the same potential for a tractor and emits the same, scary noises.
For me the problem does not arise. I have too many chiefs in order to know the reactions of all for a possible surge of this type. Not that I would, if I had one. No, I'm not a person to drive, I think. And, as say those who left me on the street, not a boring person who fits the funereal atmosphere of an office. I enjoy a casino in the office!
So in conclusion, hope you do or not? I speak of conditions normal and normal people. I would not expect my mother to go from that to wish her, of course. Would also be able to tell you about his wishes, in person, clearly, is not the time and place to send the fax!
Friday, May 21, 2010
Fisherman's Village Playa Del Carmen Sell
flamingo_road @ 2010-05-22T01:11:00
emotions so dense as not to want to disconnect. Like glue in your hair, on clothes. On white clothes. Like a kiss and a smile, a kiss and a smile. Violent feelings that they laugh, knowing in advance what to test my head.
And I could carry them, along with question marks in these days of these months, the next. My, those of others. If it is always so beautiful, I want to dream again.
emotions so dense as not to want to disconnect. Like glue in your hair, on clothes. On white clothes. Like a kiss and a smile, a kiss and a smile. Violent feelings that they laugh, knowing in advance what to test my head.
And I could carry them, along with question marks in these days of these months, the next. My, those of others. If it is always so beautiful, I want to dream again.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Awefilms Licence Removal
Farewell Sanguineti
not write an obituary for me.
one of his poems is the only one who can give him goodbye.
not write an obituary for me.
one of his poems is the only one who can give him goodbye.
Monday, May 17, 2010
How To Kill Hair Roots At Home
flamingo_road @ 2010-05-17T12:25:00
Malawi, Africa.
Malawi, Africa.
Two men are likely to be sentenced to 14 years in prison and hard labor for
publicly declared their love with marriage.
Sign the petition to stop this hatred in the day against homophobia. Thanks.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Matchsticks For Model Making
flamingo_road @ 2010-05-16T00:43:00
Only buildings reflected in a pool of water. I accept, assimilate me, suck me and then I eject. Their hands move away, looks away as I feel him. Heavy, suffocating. It 's too hot, the discomfort, but it's too cold out here.
Only buildings reflected in a pool of water. I accept, assimilate me, suck me and then I eject. Their hands move away, looks away as I feel him. Heavy, suffocating. It 's too hot, the discomfort, but it's too cold out here.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
What Does A Wide Converter Do
Nemorense @ 2010-05-12T23: 54:00
Only a few more days and will be finished, only a few more days.
a warm greeting and you had doubts?
Only a few more days and will be finished, only a few more days.
a warm greeting and you had doubts?
Sunday, May 2, 2010
What Is Deadline Usmle
Nemorense @ 2010-05-02T22: 48:00
I survived the college, the first in my life and I thank those who were there with me out there trying to calm down, it went.
Then I returned to Albano, on the train and travel to eat, I was literally starving.
And yesterday, the zoo in Rome. Zoos make me sad, but now has become a rehabilitation center for protected species to Rome and it does not bother me too much.
one time this blog was a daily diary. They were strange days, where a chance meeting I was wondering if I would take away from the head to someone who has occupied an extraordinarily long time, days when I thought that a glass of wine and the smell of nougat of a fair at night were and created all the time ...
E 'not yet born when I thought I'd come back and see photos of Pisa with the lump in his throat, as I do not have the courage to come back.
'm back and I do not know what will stay, if you'll stay, what to do next, I just know I want to continue studying and nondecido alone anymore.
I only know that the meetings that changes your life and did not expect them all out of the atmosphere of normality, but only a detail, that is the look where you're missing. I
potertelo show even when I'm nervous Marco, but you make me happy. I'm full.
I wish I could remove even small disappointments of daily life, but I do not know how to tell you and I know I can not. But I'm here.
Thank you for these five months, love.
I love you. Your
Nur
I survived the college, the first in my life and I thank those who were there with me out there trying to calm down, it went.
Then I returned to Albano, on the train and travel to eat, I was literally starving.
And yesterday, the zoo in Rome. Zoos make me sad, but now has become a rehabilitation center for protected species to Rome and it does not bother me too much.
one time this blog was a daily diary. They were strange days, where a chance meeting I was wondering if I would take away from the head to someone who has occupied an extraordinarily long time, days when I thought that a glass of wine and the smell of nougat of a fair at night were and created all the time ...
E 'not yet born when I thought I'd come back and see photos of Pisa with the lump in his throat, as I do not have the courage to come back.
'm back and I do not know what will stay, if you'll stay, what to do next, I just know I want to continue studying and nondecido alone anymore.
I only know that the meetings that changes your life and did not expect them all out of the atmosphere of normality, but only a detail, that is the look where you're missing. I
potertelo show even when I'm nervous Marco, but you make me happy. I'm full.
I wish I could remove even small disappointments of daily life, but I do not know how to tell you and I know I can not. But I'm here.
Thank you for these five months, love.
I love you. Your
Nur
Friday, April 30, 2010
Taking Epilator On Planes
flamingo_road @ 2010-04-30T15:08:00
I do not expect to be estimated. I do not expect to receive the applause. I do not expect even to be understood. I do not expect anybody to sacrifice for me to spend money on me or prepare lunches and dinners for me. I do not claim to change people's heads and even to be heard. I do not ask anyone to show interest in what I do, I just ask not to be impeded. Vegetarianism is no longer an exotic mystery to be feared or admired from afar. Vegetarianism is a choice and as such claims to be respected.
I do not expect to be estimated. I do not expect to receive the applause. I do not expect even to be understood. I do not expect anybody to sacrifice for me to spend money on me or prepare lunches and dinners for me. I do not claim to change people's heads and even to be heard. I do not ask anyone to show interest in what I do, I just ask not to be impeded. Vegetarianism is no longer an exotic mystery to be feared or admired from afar. Vegetarianism is a choice and as such claims to be respected.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Dean Andersson Gain Weight
Nemorense @ 2010-04-27T00 : 07:00
I sleep and I have to hand out already. I'm afraid of the reaction to the work of licensed and missing? I have a headache.
Thank God there are my friends and my boyfriend.
kiss
Nur
I sleep and I have to hand out already. I'm afraid of the reaction to the work of licensed and missing? I have a headache.
Thank God there are my friends and my boyfriend.
kiss
Nur
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