Ultimate Steal Not Working

And do not even know why I'm here because I came in here. I passed. And now I stand here before you. Indeed, before a statue that pretends to defer to you. If you're there. That this is now a doubt. Before I was sure. I mean that the sky was empty. Deception. Like a cosmic candid camera, make us believe that it is inhabited but no it is not. Empty not because someone has abandoned it, but because no one has ever been there. But today I fell in the heart of this worm, this clucking voice and tune, so I would suffocate. And upheld, and torments, and causes. Assuring me that yes, I have absolutely right, the sky is barred, as a gate hot, not so much empty as inaccessible. Boundless and armored. And then, just for the sake of contradicting it, took me a stinging shadow, a desire that has led me annoyed here, in front of this wooden sculpture essential and I have to say very simple, naive and ugly, and now m ' he bent his knees and bowed his head, like a firm hand and maternal inviting me to turn off the world.

So quiet and composed, I let him vent my fear that rises up from the heart and radiates paralyzed every muscle. Yes Lord, I'm afraid. Not you. You do not know, but what I feel is an infinite patience, as my mother when I came home, late, dirty and maybe how the knee injury. And instead of screaming, I took her up and rocked me. Behold, this I need to be wrapped by an affection that I have not heard from since. No, I know that the family ... And I can not complain. And I love her, my wife and she loves me even more and that the children ... I know. But it's different. It is the love that you can give me what I need now. Because inside his affection is not hope, or even certainty. I need this now. I'm afraid I do not know what to do, how to find the light in this gloom down slightly, almost cheerful, but voracious. When I look into the future, the view is shortsighted, it all blurs the horizon and then close the night. And the vise tightens the heart. I try to fight, but the poison is coming to the brain because the temptation is always to let me go bigger. Dream to rest in the warm water of that warmth as soft as a foam, floating and contemplating the sun above me, and lie there, even without moving the eyes up to the current rock me and take me over the line that the greenhouse future. And I melt into the sea so, gently and without pain. I know it's a desert, I know it's selfish, but if you do not help me in some way, Lord, if you're there, I do. I go out and do it.

Why this terror is spreading, like a crafty enemy occupying all the space in my day, the hope of drowning in the details. I can not do what I want, I can not get up an hour I'd like, I can not read what I wish, the weather mocks me, with the illusion of owning assets that actually disperse and then roared when I see account that the debt grows out of proportion here and reach figures which I can never fill.

Because if one side goes the hope, the other grows failure. If I look forward to heaven is off, if I look back I see the fire that follows me. What did I do? What can I claim? The children? What have I been able to give them? Money? No, they are of that generation that burns to its predecessor has accumulated, leaving the desert in what follows. Force? No, but fragile. I watch them and I fear that the first strong wind will not shake them but holding it out like a tornado will uproot a small tree. And in their eyes I see my faults, not their free choice, but my chains. But this does not extinguish the guilt of my disappointment that while I feel for them on the spot, on the other hand I feel a displaced anger against them, to the disappointment that I have never spared. A disappointment that has its roots in me in them and then my daughter is more of themselves. And for this irritates me, because I mock my disability in their painting.

adolescence will remain broken image in mind, scattered: the friend of the girl who gives filavi the elbow as you move, they rest on the heater in the school, you head down and hand knotted. And they both blush, not knowing how to hide and yet feeling a sense of pride and happiness. The stairs and balustrade in high school to see where you get stuck, you're never able to talk to her, even to stop it, and once you've written and you think it will still be laughing at you. The bar where bottles were playing with your father at sea, where then you would have expected a call from her later years, when the maximum mobility was the car in the alley, or the complicity of a friend who let you use your phone. And if you sometimes dream of returning to those spots, those in the above table into a corner with drinks, as sung by Ruggeri, if only because the future will look dumb, not mocked, only deceiving themselves, not that I want to return there, why not barter that washed safely with happiness, soft yet solid, feel that flicker in the background, like distant music, like the soft light of a lighthouse on a stormy night.

And then I come back to you, I hope you are there, now I feel that this heat is still roaring mockery of fate, but the news of a safe harbor, that somehow will not know where, do not I know how, but it will come. And I can rest quietly. No more fear.

That fear is melting while they are here heavy on his knees, and out of the day fades no longer in the dark night, but the evening calm, warm, reassured.

I'm coming home.

Places Incuba To Swim With Dolphins

Ex And The Crisis

I think "crisis" is one of the words more pronounced this year. And I fear it will be next. But even before Madoff, Tremonti of the Bull and this word was notorious single-female universe as "the Thirty Years 'Crisis," which resembles' the Thirty Years War, with the difference that is not always concludes with a Peace of Westphalia. We have
it clear that things already seem to me to feel suffused with a chatter of protest: many thirtysomethings are happily single and want to remain such. Ok?
But let's face it: for someone who enjoys life, there are ten to the hour of the third decade put the right vinegar and begin to act as if they were wearing a lampascioni.
The most puzzling are those who, caught by a kind of horror vacui begin to ravanare details of three pages of the old school diaries and diaries in hopes of prehistoric riagguantare an ex.

"If he liked me then, maybe you like me now!"
"Play it as well. But you'd better warn you put on weight. "
" Good heavens, I was ten, I will not expect mica ports still 36? "
" No. But not even 56. "


" Sorry but trees do not you left because you stole from the supermarket? "
"But that was nonsense! Today is a political statement. "
" For some reason it does not surprise me. "
" I was hurrying to leave for that San Daniele hidden under his raincoat. "
" Yeah. "
" Had it been I would have forgiven a Parmacotto . But a whole San Daniele seemed too much. "
" But you look at it. It was enough ham right now and you were first lady. "


" I do not know why you got into her head to recontact Olympian. It is not already married? "
" It is. With an obese woman who smokes three packs of cigarettes a day. According to statistics should kick the bucket soon. Better if I carry on with the job. "


Once a man of my acquaintance received a strange phone call from an old ex:
" Hey! How long! But good to hear ... How are you doing? "
" yjfehrfeojàeiuii "
" Ah you're back here? Can not live anymore in Milan? And your boyfriend? "
" zdhpoeifèerifeèrerfrnzcw "
" Wow, I'm sorry. And when it's over? "
" hgoiugmècupiucmpyucivrivmèùimevpiui "
" But you see what a fool. I'm really sorry ... It would be nice to organize a reunion with the whole group ... "
" gwxyhjkhjòrojvephj "
" Yes, sorry, you're right, but I can not speak more loudly because my son is sleeping ... "
" wlkrz "
Yes I'm married and I have a child of one year. "
" wx "
" It's ... well, then ... ready to suffer? Hello? "


emblematic case of my ex-colleague Tweety.
Although not particularly unpleasant, the girl (so to speak) to thirty-five years he had not a shred of her boyfriend. It showed all the symptoms of acute thirty years. It had a built-in sounder
always on and if you went downtown on Saturday morning, you'd have noticed a periscope that soared over the crowd: it was she who made the usual rounds weekly.
Unfortunately, the office did not offer great opportunities. We were all women except his head, still at the stage Australopithecus, with little chance of dying Sapiens.
chanced to meet again with Tweety on his work of his former school: Achilles, the courier that delivered the parcel. She downplayed spent on that.
"I do not think we do. Yuck! Only thirteen years to take some blunders. "
But it was not bad Achilles. He had a clear problem with water and soap, but other than that ... perhaps he was also afraid of nail scissors, but really apart from that ... well, it was probably allergic to the shampoo, but other than that ... yes, but suffered from bloating flatulence apart from that ...
, he was a good guy. It is true that we asked to leave the parcel on the mat and spend the delivery note under the door, but other than that we were fond of him.
All of us except that if Tweety was forced to open the door it was blatantly turandosi nose.
Achilles did not seem at all offended, was lavish indeed make it clear whether he would recover, his Velona. Meanwhile time passed
Tweety and was single most of the Almighty.
are useless necklines that go down, which rose heels, jeans that hugged the contours and lips widened.
The only one I liked the shapes and the s-lips Tweety was Achilles.

"What a great lipstick that thou hast Tweety this morning."
"E 'lip gloss and call me doctor, fetid."

"Tweety does not sound like an exaggeration? Poor thing, did you? "
" It makes me sick. "
" Tweety, but if you do that ... "
" ... well you limp a Pampax. "
" Good morning, boss. "
" It Tampax says. Anyway, you know that this is a beautiful and good sexual harassment? "
" A what? "
" sexual harassment "
" Boh. I'm a moderate. But you do not miss sexed dead. "


Perhaps the depth of this observation, perhaps a biological clock biggest of the Big Bang, the fact is that Tweety reevaluated the situation.
At least this was the conclusion I reached after seeing her as a knot to Achilles Pythoness darkness of a cinema.
The next day we tackled the topic at lunch.
"Congratulations Tweety. Achilles is a good guy. And a ... hard worker. And ... very nice too. And it is ... .. "
" Cut short. Achilles is a dirty stinker. "
" But ... you ... you ... "
" I what? "
" You're stuck there last night as a Panini! "
" I know. We rifidanzati. And probably going to marry me that quarter of gorgonzola. "
" But ... "
" The crisis is a crisis. "
" That's true. "
" And anyway, every shoe becomes a boot. "
" Yeah. And it's better an egg today than a hen tomorrow. "
" Exactly. And not a gift horse you look in my mouth. "
" I agree. And who is content can enjoy. "
" Perfect. And it is beautiful what is beautiful, but it's nice like that. "
" Right. And do not tell the farmer how good the cheese with the pears. "
?"
"This has nothing to do. Sorry, "

Tweety was right. In times of crisis you do not throw anything away. The other day I saw a TV program in which a young lady showed how to recycle old stuff, making objects from furniture.
Good heavens, if the criminal has had the guts to turn a microwave into a broken planter ... want to see that a former boyfriend smelly you can not get a husband-to-date?

Hemorrhoids Brazilian

The patient

In turn, there are many, but they hide very well, so it is difficult to detect.
I'm talking about a kind of very, very dangerous for us women, the patients. The dictionary defines
Italian resident who "through sickness or other casualty is forced to stay in bed or being treated in a health resort."
But I see it this way: the resident is that two-footed at the first opportunity that you red-hot ears and we stretch the brain with the details of his last painful love story.
We do, however, the necessary distinctions: there are those who suffer and those who suffer serious command. The first
is a genuine resident. He's bad at all and if she goes out with you just because now even his hamster pulls the plugs in my ears just see it coming.
If you think that the "syndrome of the nurse" applies only to other women, then usciteci well. But save yourself the hairdresser, beautician and thong with rhinestones. Waste of money. But do not forget a blanket and some food. The speeches of a man who suffers for love are longer and more troublesome of Kieslowski Decalogue. Anyway, rather than a resident, I suggest you adopt a monument. More useful and satisfying. If
then fed the secret hope to start a relationship with a guy so shabby, I strongly suggest you a month of volunteer work in Calcutta.
I speak from direct experience.
Many years ago I was enamored of a resident almost ready for the morgue.
was summer and he was a waiter in a piano bar. Every night I waited patiently for him to finish his turn to sit at table with him and shoot me in the mood all the details of the tragic love affair with Vivian, his ex.
Even a goldfinch would understand that the guy had a nearly flat electroencephalogram. But I was counting on to reduce Viviana a distant memory in a couple of sessions.
But in August we were still at "that time when I took her to Venice for her birthday, and the bitch began to flirt with the gondolier."
When the summer drew to a close, the resident was me. In an oblique position on the chair, I was connected to a tube through Negroni boccettone of mileage, I just nodded from time to time and at the same time I pulled up a bit 'of liquid. One evening I decided to skip the session. I could not take anymore. The next evening found him in the larval stage.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Yesterday you did not come ... I'll wait ... I was wrong without you."
Ueilà, something moves. Finally!
"I'm sorry ... is that I was sick, but now everything is ok. But ... I'm glad you missed me ... "
" Yeah. Well. Where were we? "
" Ah ... um ... at that time you asked you to Vivian who would have thrown down from the tower if you or your Pekingese and she said that there had to think. "
" Ah yes! Do you realize?! - I have to think - and I as if we were that hairy rat on the same floor! And I have not even told about that time ... "
" Excuse me a minute, you mind if the first order the usual? "
... is the last time. I'm sure that is forgetting. I feel that you are fond of me.
"But I figured, I do. Anselmo! Anselmoooo! Bring a Negroni for ... for ... sorry, how is it that What's your name? "


The second category, that of the sick imagination, is much more dangerous and treacherous.
There are men who break health and testosterone. But just ask him something more concrete you see them fade, stutter, shake, and cry if necessary.
"Oh my God ... what have you? Does it feel good? Good grief, I asked you to accompany me to my cousin's wedding, not to Mauthausen "
" No ... is that ... you know ... I've never talked about Lara? "
" No. "
" The fact is that Lara is still an open wound. "
In a little 'you I open a wound in the forehead.
"She ... she ... oh God ...."
convulsive sobs.
"Talking about it is too painful for me ... I do not know if I can."
"Can you, you'll make ..."
"No ... I do not succeed .."
"make it."
"The ... Lara was my ex. We had to get married, but one day she went away without an explanation. And since then I suffer. I suffer terribly. "
" I did not think I suffered so much tonight. Anyway, patience, you will be suffering. "
" ... I can not do it, especially at weddings can not do it. You spoil the party. "
" It will be ruined if I finish Thrush sitting at the table. "
" What? "
" The single table cousins. You're coming with me and sit at the table Orchid, one of coupled cousins. "
" Ough! Couf Couf ... No ... please, I'm too bad. The memory of Sara afflicts me. "
" I called Lara? "
" Ah yes! Sure, Lara. Lara, yes. "
" Listen to me you can also come with a drip stuck into his arm. But sit down with me at the table Orchid. "
" You do not understand, I have flirted suicide for Mara! "
" Lara. "
" Ah ... yes. Lara, Lara. "
" Maybe you did not understand, I have to go there in this marriage together, even from a corpse if necessary. "
" I'm sorry but I do not think the Palace ... "
" Listen, dirty rotten piece of dung: Lara, Sarah and Mara also adds a BARA .
"Bara Ba ..?"
"Yes, BARA. The name of the studio where you will spend your future if you come with me to the fucking wedding and do not glue your ass to the fucking chair that fucking table Orchid. Got it? "

The patient will also be dangerous, but with a woman who threatens the table Thrush, there is no game.

Gay Men With Hard On In A Sauna

Clothes make the former ex

One of the many reasons why sooner or later someone will blow up the old Facebook are wickedly class pictures scanned and published with name and surname that hovers pupil-centered. I
Steps is published by the trickle of sauce on his chin, belly, which escapes from the T-shirt, with white eyes possessed by, the past as well as photos in which joining the dots on my face will show an electric saw, but the first allows you to publish that photo class in high school when I cotonata the fringe, I sue.
even when not justified in that picture there is one thing even more confusing in my bangs, clothing for boys.
In my day there were essentially two schools of thought: "I I am a paninari and "if my mom sees it." The first dolls produced
felpette with rounded, tight jeans and mid-calf socks with diamond pattern. Fortunately, the species has become extinct in a couple of seasons. The other current
instead manufactured various kinds of monsters: "son of a mother who thinks smart and buy fake leaders" (the poor man in the photo wearing a belt buckle as big as a platter with the words "El CIAT and a sweatshirt chipped the "Cess Company")
not miss the "son of elderly mother" perhaps widow checkered flannel shirt, gray cable-knit sweater and brown corduroy trousers, also in May. More
the rare but existing "mother's son deployed politically": suit metalworking and army-green shoulder bag. The cutest
category was "son of a mother who says her son to fend for."
From them you could expect anything. One of them came to school one day with a coat of karate. The professor explained that he was shocked the only thing found in the closet clean.


The main difference with the kids of today was the small size of the wardrobe. My classmates had changed for the two winter and two for the summer. Stop. When was gymnastics put the blue suit with white stripes on the side. Stop. At parties wearing a shirt. Always the same. Stop.
We girls were very sensitive to the nature of the two changed. If neither of us wanted, we were able to ignore them until the change of season. And even if the mother patch, he spoke in September.

This focus on men's clothing did not end with the school. Indeed. I've never been a "fashion victim". And as I do most of my friends. We were not looking for the designer. But there were slips unforgivable. Some examples:
- Three Man (jeans, denim shirt and jeans jacket worn once)
- sweater coat (worn with nothing beneath).
- Polo stuck in his pants without a belt.
- T-shirt one size less. (We accept exceptions for water polo).
- terry white socks with classic shoe.
- sock yarn with black sneakers.
- hangman shirt (buttoned up to the last button)
- Lucifer Match (pink and blue as only the devil ")
- Match levasaluto (black and blue)
- Pairing Picasso (chess and flowers, stripes and diamonds, dots and diamonds)



For the jacket, the rule was simple: if the color was thinking of a fruit ... it was out. Nothing
strawberry red, pink no fish, no banana or lemon yellow, no green apple, purple plum nothing.
Then of course, depended very much on the person. The original was well received, but with due caution.
A friend of mine left his neofidanzato very cool after only four days when the fourth he came up with a shirt bearing the word "Wojtyla the Pope of the millennium." Embee
. The first day you're the original, the second day you're nice, the third day are devoted, on the fourth day six Zozzo.

Further on in the years I decided it was time to stop these fixations because the clothes do not make the Monaco. I was wrong. Clothes make the Monaco, and also the former.

the first appointment one of my ex invited me over to his house to see her wardrobe.
A strange variant of the collection of butterflies, I thought.
"It's an antique? Look, I do not understand is that ... "
" I did not speak of the cabinet, I was referring to my clothes. "
never heard an excuse stranger. In fact it was not an excuse.
How often wondered why I would not planted during that dreadful show!
Bah. Naphthalene has been to become clogged brain connectors.
Former emplare thought it well to start with the jackets. Other regulating fruit. He looked like a neighborhood market. He pulled out a red watermelon that was precisely how to get a watermelon in his face. The more sober was perfect for the Muccassassina.
"Wait here, the next you see me on him. I'm going to change. "
reappeared in a black pinstripe striped red that made me weep.
"It is not by chance that there were also matched in 3D glasses for those in front of you?"
not understood, was too excited about the exhibition ties. I thought I was joking when he pulled out all the Disney line.
But he said very serious, "Here you see, this red with the dalmatian I always combined with this cast." I was assailed by the sight of dogs in mass exodus from the tie.
continued to appoint renowned designers, Valentino, Fendi, Ferre, Ferragamo. E I could not believe my eyes. In the Closet sfondoni were all giants of fashion.
Then came the turn of the shirts: I remember a black leg striped diagonally.
"Roberto Cavalli" remarked proudly.
Mr. Cavalli, I admire, but the animal to man is not too Paleolithic? Finally he pulled out the piece
cult: a long blue coat.
"Oh. Well. This winter, I'll walk with Merlin. "
This is understood and took it very badly. To rehabilitate
pulled out his latest purchase: a coat signed by that maniac of the maps. It looked like the giant globe in the Louvre. Mr
Alviero Martini, wife after a certain size, should prevent the production.
When I thought it was over, his eyes glittering announced the grand slam:
"And this is my favorite, but I put it only on occasion." It was a full shirt and trousers in washed silk purple. The shirt buttons were leaving to the stomach.
"Ah. And on what occasions ... I'll put this? "
better know before.
"Solo concert Renato Zero."
"But I do not say. Are you a sorcin ... "
" Wow, I did not lose one. "
Renato please, you age, it's time to quit. Then the newspapers are saying "eggplant sighted giant concert Renato Zero" and there you remain sick.
"Want to see how it fit?"
"NO! No ... it seems delicate, you end up ruined. "
When we parted, he asked me if I wanted to remember one of its leaders. I asked the outfit sorcione. I wanted to free the world from disaster. But he would not.
"Not that I'm sorry. But I'd gladly tie with Cruella Demon ".


conclude with the most baffling case. One of my ex to thirty years had not yet decided whether to be a child or a child of Satan's mom.
Once I saw him come with leather pants Black and said to myself "finally decided."
Then he bent down and saw the tick of the pants by the belt Teletubbies.
"No. Not yet. " When a T-shirt spotted
health under the t-shirt of Marilyn Manson, accused ill.
At a party wore a trendy black shirt, tight jeans a bit 'shabby, very cool. And at the foot a couple of kickers. Yes, I know. I also thought that more than 35 did not.
"My mother says that the foot should be comfortable."
course, especially when they take their first steps.
In winter he wore a black overcoat, very bad. " But if the wind got up from his pocket pulled out a hat Scottish wool, those with the visor and earmuffs.
"As a child I had a bad ear infection and do not want to risk."
I understand but it is likely those around you!
I can not say what they seem. I do not know, an old baseball player escaped from a psychiatric prison, the first class in the grip of a murderous rampage, a deer farmer who moved to Manhattan ... I do not know. However, it was a hybrid scary.
When I saw him putting on his cap, I heard a little voice inside me that I suggested:
"Escape!"
When we left, a good time to put the difficult things.
"Seven days, please, I ask only seven days!"
"But ... what good is it?"
"In seven days lot can happen!"
"Well ... I do not think ..."
"Of course you do! God has created in seven days the whole world! "
" It's not like you just the same ... "
" Do not joke, really. I ask just one week of your life! I beg you. Today is today ... wait ... "
lifted a little 'leg jeans, she read something on the edge of the sock of Dragon Ball and concluded:
" Thursday. Today is Thursday! "
" But ...? "
" It says here. My my mother has bought seven pairs, one for each day of the week. I find them more comfortable because I'm missing that day. "

Oh ..." I said, in these seven days you will see the best of me. Give me this opportunity, please. I'll show you that at the end of this week you will love me again. "
Yes okay, the challenge last sock.
Cultured fatigue I was about to consider the request.
But suddenly, biting cold and the wind got up. And the decision was taken.
The Mad Hatter began to scream:
"Hey! Where are you going? And our last week together? Please! When you rivedròòòòòòò? "
" I do not soooooo. See a bit 'what does Dragonboooooooooooooool "

Whipping Movies Of Woman

inflatable

I had to reread the article twice. But I read it right the first: if you really can not forget about your ex, there is a company that I will play in inflatable version. Just you provide a photo and specify body size of the department.
I am speechless. But I feel I am going to find them.

Personally I'd rather have the house in Twelve Monkeys rather than an inflatable with the face of my ex. Oh, maybe a couple of my old version would just balloon the perfect anti-theft and anti-mite. If I a thief scares me to death in front. And even if I were a mite.

But it seems that there are already many requests. Well, I say just those who are on the waiting list: no, I say, what c'avete in mind? Hurricane Katrina?
What the hell are you doing with a former inflatable? We went together to the stadium? At the movies? At the Vietnamese restaurant? Or take a bath in the Trevi Fountain and fed with a bottle of milk waiting for the bait from the back hole?
You can not even take a fight to avenge the send-off. Should break out between your hands, know that is not under warranty.
Gentlemen, more useless than an ex, there is only one ex inflatable. You know

that with such a decoration around the house, you lose all hope of having a new relationship? Not only that type of love, but any kind.
Not even your best friend wants to share the sofa with a spindle-shaped former. Even the cleaning lady to ask for a settlement. Your dog will forward the application for adoption to the neighbors, goldfish commit suicide in the water for pasta, and if the ferret will spin up the barrel of the gas.

Take my advice, until you cancel your order on time. Former inflatable is nothing more than a poor idea of \u200b\u200bwho wants to speculate on nostalgia.
By the same money, take a nice vacation in Lapland, treat yourself to a subscription Journal of the Smurfs, I know, taken away a used Japanese.
And if you have a penchant for bouncy castles, there are more economical and less disturbing: you find them in toy stores in version Teletubbies, Spiderman and Hello Kitty.
If it's too late to cancel, we seek a solution.
Women advises recycling as a passenger in the car when they go home alone at night. It can also be handy billy: plaid blanket and lay them with dark glasses on a wheelchair and see how you will give way to the supermarket, the bank or the post office.


Men I suggest you use the doll as a mattress for sunbathing by the sea. The ladies on the beach will think you are dealing with a skilled amateur underwater hot trends.
Or maybe do this: organized the "First meeting of former inflatable" recatevici with your purchase, leave it free to socialize with others, and you do the same with yours. You will see that something will come out.

But there is a smarter way to get rid of the purchase reckless and, simultaneously, to make it responsible to pay the same in the meantime made merry with a new flame. Insert your sneak into the house of your ex - just out for a dinner date - and placed his clone in a strategic position, so that it just will not see the front door with his "After dinner" arm.
Take care, take care before going out to close the bathroom door double throw and throw the key out of the window.
As soon as the treacherous and his sweet company will come face to face with the double inflatable cagotto to both mount a volcano. And, because they can not give decent bathroom vent blocked, were to fall on the floor to a 'explosion of underpants a bit different from the one they had planned.

Here, at this point, your money will not really been well spent, but at least not thrown.
And please, next time you have in mind a similar idea, jump on this blog that the former destroys them, it plays them.

What Is The Frequency Of Bahrain Sport

Ex seasonal

teach how the killers behind bars, returned to the scene of the crime is never a good idea. But you can tell more later.
Unfortunately, the resort where they spent adolescence and youth, are teeming with former rather than mosquitoes. This is a fact with which I deal every summer.

Last week I was at the beach when I see a guy coming towards me slouching in his forties, balding and skinny, with sunglasses that I can hardly describe: huge, yellow plastic and with a kind of lattice instead of lenses .
"Beautiful, how are you?"
mad at me?
"Ummmm ... good. "
Yes, angry with me and is also a bit 'too close. Good grief ... I've been intimate with this character!
"Very well, I guess. Hihi. I was waiting for, you know? But I hoped my name just arrived. How long are you here? "
Hihi!??!
"... Some day ..." Perhaps that
sarong-party-party water balloon ... or that ... no ... no, certainly at that party ... sangria-
"Look, here's a bonfire tonight, we we go together? We have always enjoyed the camp fire. Hihi .. "
" Ah yes ...? "
Bonfire? Then it's prehistoric stuff.
"Then that makes me happy. We drink something, let's talk about 'old times and ... hihi ... "
I always find it more chilling that this guy with two radiators on the eyes has reason to do" hihi "in my direction.
"I know you need to convince a lot of stress, but in the end yield hihi ..." The next
hihi you print a punch on the nose.
"I really ..."
"Let's do this: you do good, you stick one of your pink dresses and join me here. I take the guitar and you do a little 'Baglioni. "
Last I put the pink dress that was six months. And Baglioni prefer a high mass. Something is wrong.
"I'm going. View Ketty that really matter. "
" Kitty!? "
" I can always call you so, right? Catherine is too long and then I remember my aunt, you know. "
do not know who Kitty or Catherine, but not me, and this is the only thing that matters. Quest'imbecille me mistaken for an ex. Naturally. Walk with the blinds in the face!
"Yes, yes, I figured. Call me what you want. "
" Maybe later I make a phone call. "
" Sure. "
Ringing, ringing.
Hihi.

The next day instead, I was to recognize one of my ex on the shore. Ex so to speak. The summer you know, last less than an icicle in the sun.
As soon as I saw it, is thrown from the deck as if it had exploded a firecracker in costume.
"Hey! Oi! EU! "
" Hello ... "
" What are you doing here? "
" There I am on vacation, like every ... "
To which he looked around furtively, he launched into the water with a dip donuts and went off to off the reel by force of arms. "
" ... year. Bah! "
Then I understood. After a couple of hours I was returning home when I saw the car in a bikini beast two meters by three barking a mountain walking chairs, umbrella, boat, towels and cooler box.
"You do not have to go to the bar you understand? At the bar I'll go and I'll buy you the Cucciolone! That bar is filled with stupid ass out! I told you a thousand times! The next time I catch you there, you head off! "
The hermit crab at risk decapitation was my ex-ice. And that Tazmania Devil, his wife.
Congratulations!

few days later I came across another ex, always ice category, which was swimming with a child about four years. As soon as I saw the ex-emplare gave his back to the small, and smooth (short) hair back and started posing casual-Little Mermaid.
"Hello dear."
"Hey! Hello! My goodness you have a baby? "
" Bambino? What baby? "
" What ... is your son? "
" No, no ... "
" But how? It's your clone! "
" Yes ... because he is my nephew, is the son of my sister. "
" What a guess right now is sixteen years ... "
" Eh ... yes, you remember eh, well, yes. Did the trouble. "
" Wow. Well, very cute but a trouble. "
Pride suspicion in his eyes, quickly replaced by a look mischievous.
"And you? Are you single, engaged, married, banquets? "
" I am ... "
'PAPA' PAPA '! HOW DO I LOOK RÜTTI UNDER WATER! "
?"
"Eh eh ... you know, I make him a bit 'by her father. Its almost never sees him ... Guy does not do it! "
" I understand. Sure looks like you own a lot ... "
'PAPA' PAPA '! HOW DO I LOOK AT THE UNDERWATER fart WITH BUBBLES! "
" Oh ... eh ... eh ... these children finish it Guido! "
" BUT YOU ALWAYS DO THE "
So is his son. Without a doubt.
"But you say, Guido ... eh eh. Hem. "
" Ok, it was a pleasure. Congratulations ... uncle. It is a beautiful child. "
" No wait! Tonight my ex-wife comes to pick him up, then I have the night off ... "
" Your ex-wife, that his ex-aunt? "
" Hem, yes. I am very fond of. "
" But how nice. Well. Say hello to your sister so much, eh. Hello, hello. "
" I mean my sister and her aunt, that is, no, my ex-wife and her sister, that is, no, my ex-wife and her sister ... "
'PAPA' PAPA 'PAPA'"
"STATTE AND SHUT UP '! I was saying that if you're free, we could ... "
" See that your child, sorry, your nephew, is drowning. "
" Who? Uh! Oh! GUIDO, Bell'O PAPA ', ARRIVOOOOO "The Ballad of former

season ended with Lupino. Ex not mine, but Sabrina, the most popular among my childhood friends.
Lupino is a local boy, makes the fisherman since he was thirteen, and more or less at the time dates from his liaison with Sabrina.
About eleven o'clock in the morning I and my friends, Sabrina the head, blocking our way in to the port where the fish Lupino discharged from his crop, sweaty and already destroyed with five hours of work behind.
Perhaps the poor are yearning for a bit of intimacy with his siren, but she embarked without uttering a word and all of us. Once off the parade began to plunge, drop and developments on the water. Lupino was shy, did not know how to fit in that band of tarantulas in costume, and so sat watching for frying and Sabrina who had fun with us.
Yes, because in those days and at that age, if you wanted to show off a shred of girlfriend, you had you pay all her friends and remember to treat them very well. In fact, at the end of the trip, Lupino never failed to give us a bucket of fish heads. The relationship ended when he arrived
Donatello, a city of pischelletto riding a brand new Piaggio Yes.
Sabrina and Donald were engaged, and we change from Yes to crop, forcing the boy to take us grueling laps on a scooter at a time. I think half to give Sabrina a little kiss, every day did the poor ten thousand pounds of a mixture. Then in the evening gave us an avalanche of chewing gum and licorice wheels. Of course, the bucket of fish was better. But if you are thirteen years the Big Babol have their charm. Since then not
Lupino has never recovered. Year after year passed by Sabrina vespina the Red Rose, by not faired to the Dominator, the Fiat Panda Ford Fiesta to where he began to dislike the crowd of us friends in the back seat.
But it is never gone to sea and if today the appointments Lupino, you answer "who?".
But I always go in early summer the harbor to greet him. But his argument for twenty years is always the same.
"And Sabrina did not come this year?"
"No, not yet."
"So to me I do not give a damn."
"I know, I know."
"She says she has gone blonde, true ?
"Yes."
"So to me I do not give a damn."
"I guess. Look, is not by chance that you would have a nice grouper? "
" Sure. Fresh, taken this morning. Ruined. "
" E 'ruined? So give me something else. "
" I was talking about Sabrina. Certainly he was better brunette. "
" Well ... has changed ... "
" So to me I do not give a damn. "
" Exactly. That this beautiful grouper, tonight my mother is a fire! "
" I know that if done with bad people. "
" My mother? "
" Sabrina! "
" But no ... What is the weight? "
"A rough guess will now have reached sixty."
"The grouper!?"
"Ah, I thought Sabrina! A three-pound grouper. Better to stay away. A bad race. "
" Oh my God, and then take some cuttlefish, squid, two ... "
" I was talking about Sabrina! "
" Ah ... "
" So to me I do not give a damn. "
" Here. "
"Listen, tell her to still be very careful"
"Sabrina? What are you doing, threatens? "
" No! To your mother! "
" Ah ... and why? "
" The grouper is the end of the world only if you know the cook. "
" Oh, just imagine, you will know. "
'It's always been a poor fool."
"My mother?"
"No grouper! I mean, I mean, Sabrina! "
" Okay come on. "
" So to me I do not give a damn. "
" Uhm. "
" It 's his death. "
" Even with the threats? "
" The fire! It is the death of grouper! "
" Ahhh! "
" And anyway it is always number one. "
" Sabrina? "
" No, your mother in the kitchen. "
" Damn Wolves, you're making me crazy. "
" Excuse me, ok, say hello for me. "
" Who? Sabrina, my mother or the grouper!? "
" Do a little 'you. So much to me ... "
" Do not give a damn. "

And like every year, after a first meal of fresh fish, the summer continues and concludes with fillets of plaice Findus.

2010 Lyrical Dance Costumes

And watch me go home!

And look! Come look at me! You who walk, whoever you are. What it costs you! If only to mock, to insult, to shake his head like that vulgar and violent, which leaches disgust mixed with contempt. But at least look at me. Do not turn a blind eye. Why do you think I should be reduced as well? Why do you think is destroying my dignity as well as nature has destroyed my body except for a look? Also left. Although the theme that no one will lay more on me with desire. If anything, with scorn. Enough for me. I'd be happy not to go unnoticed. How long has happened to me in life. Because no one has ever put on me a look thirsty. Is painful, that poisoned slowly the soul and makes it implode into a depression and dry off. Walking through the streets, markets, and realize that you are not even worthy of a head movement. Why do I see them when they turn their heads and all the rest when it passes one of those, yes, those girls who have everything to showcase and do not deny anything. While I

instead. From a young age. Since girls have been convicted. From a clumsy body, shapeless, bloated. Not that I ate, no. I was hungry for sensation, and even food. But this was not. No.

I grew on him like a cancer, I ruined over this mass of swollen and rough that I hid in the world. And I have remained a prisoner. But at least then, I was a girl in the country, at least then there were those who ran after me to insult, to mock. I felt alive, painfully present to the world. Then, like a fog Friends, lift pale and wan, and more and more brave, so I disappeared into existence.

The transfer to the city. Studies. Useless I say. They have added a drop of happiness to my life. Only knowledge. And with that, if anything, I increased the pain. Then a grim work, repetitive, detached, in a cubicle that separated me less like a deep ditch, from colleagues who were flooding across the partition wall. A voice on the phone. Then even that. Then take early retirement. Years of working loose in a formal greeting and wrinkled, seasoned with indifference and scorn. Even that day were able to overcome the barrier of my body to descend into the depths do not say, but at least below the surface and try to understand. Used to understand them? What can I serve? What if you do not need today, for whatever, you're finished: removed. Fine work, fine undertaking.

And still the loneliness.

What I'm not old. At least not outside. Not anagrafe. But inside they do. Why does not feel loved, it burns. But not with that fire that consumes and burns eternal, as they say love is, that I never knew, even as a child. No. Not that. I

of that inflamed Clear heat and violent, that of the ovens, that cream that reduces to ashes, leaving no hope. And now I have lost hope, I say love, but only a mild warmth. Even hypocritical. I would be fine. I would cheat a man, whether to strip of my property, however those who have accumulated over the years of silence and seclusion, I rivestisse even for a single moment of affection and too genteel, blatantly fake. Even sex. Also that I'd be happy.

And so I reduced this to be a clown, this prostitute soul: to put off this rotting flesh, it is rolled on itself confusing start and end. There shame in all this? Yes, because now these ruins is no different than anything that can burn my privacy. Everything is grace. Deformity. Yet I feel I step on my dignity. And do not give a damn. For whoever fills the mouth with the word probably has never suffered my pain has never been alone. I do. Always. Locked inside the prison of a body of exaggeration that has prevented me from being an escort. To see. To understand.

But what is there to understand! In this era that emphasizes the beauty and chases relentlessly, in this age that glorifies the body and is afraid, I see the terror in their eyes, the terror of being like me, to finish like me, to be trampled, put in a corner. I do this I understand. And only now I rebel.

And watch me come on! You who walk, and now faces the opposite side of the head with hasty gesture and theatrical, as if to teach me, to condemn, to humiliate. More than that? I could be more humble than that? Why do not you understand? Why not explore? Why not make an effort to overcome that barrier sciapo your superficiality, your horizon so narrow and closed, unable to approach the life for what it is: not a dry frame, but a film without end. With only the beginning and end credits ever. And you instead you stand there, trapped in the moment who escapes, and you do not understand that instead stay, stay forever, and they extend in all directions. As my life. Like my flesh that melts my figure in a history of total solitude.

Look: make me a bit of esteem, my in myself I've lost it. Let me think, even for a moment, I can leave a faint trace on this earth, that I may have touched a heart flutter and the memory of another creature. That was not in vain into the world. That will not be silly to leave.

No, it will not work either. It did not help anything to get to the bottom of the disgrace to the crater. Until mud exhibitionism. Even this was used to find a thread of hope, a stream of light that is able to return a bit 'of the future to this cluster of depression. Maybe you just have to look for the latest look, that of terror, when melt my life on a track. Or under a lorry. Affirming the right to be looked at at least while I dissolve.

You can also affect the other high chiefs

mother of sorrows

and blogs
the foietton : the business as a serial novel that speaks of
sale of the joys and pains : the blog differences between women and men in family life

gaze of Lazarus

when there is love

B. Thomas Cutlers Sheffield

I want justice, not mercy

easy to talk to him is never wrong. It does not give you breath. Pursues you everywhere. Even above the sea. It haunts you until you do what you want. And yes I told him: so the whole system is. So then you let yourself move. Six tender you. Want to make hard. Do you want to cover you in the robe of righteousness. And the story of the blindfolded and balance that does so much marketing. No. 's all a trick. The thunder, the rhombi. The shaking of the earth. They are special effects. Maybe what you really want to be. But you can not. I can not. You love, do not you remember? And so at last, as I predicted, the one who made the fool I was. To fool you made me go. Go around threatening disasters. A prophet from the road. And if I do not have laughed at first, they will do now.

me and I could have blackmailed say no. And what I got? Success. Yes, paradoxically, I have made known to the triumph. In defeat. You got the result you wanted, making threatening murder. Where next? Just in the city more turbid, the lair of the killers, predators. A people without mercy, vulgar, unbeaten and unbeatable. The only name which flows into panic. And you folded with love, not with an army more powerful. You'd have just snapping his fingers. And that would have razed them to the hundredth generation.

Instead you sent me. Reluctant, afraid, yes, but let us also: coward. Especially irritated. Because I knew how it would end: you on the altars, I am here, in this parched Castor to curse my victory. And what have I gained? A stampede, living side under water, three days' journey into hell and then this dry heat, no wind. This infinity white and fiery soul which sweeps away all desire not to drown in a thirst-quenching satisfaction, but rather to projecting a blinding despair. Not the light in which I would one day rest, but a crude advance of all the sufferings of Job. Why not also with him is that you behaved like a gentleman, let's say it all. He has gone worse than me.

And here a prisoner of this furnace, I have to put up your speeches, your apology, your excuse? Not thunder mica, here under the sky so clear and flat scare. Do not scream as you did with that to which didst all for a game to test him. No. With whispers me with this tone so soft, paternal, even maternal. Ask questions. Show how love can forgive everything.

No. So I do not like. From this I fled. From this infinite mercy. From this embrace is always ready and just asking to let go. From this forgiveness does not refuse anything, but that can only be rejected. Why have not you ever deny it, we who can deny you.

I wanted to see the fire from heaven. I wanted to see the earthquake. The soil bursting apart and swallowing buildings and animals. I wanted to see smoke rising from the bowels of the earth and burn. Oh, yes. It is burned, with the same taste with which their homes and women soldiers have violated the city razed to the ground, destroying the soul of the survivors, so violent that desires death rather than the memory.

I wanted to see your angels come down and exterminate the survivors with fear even more than with their darts. And the fire leaving only ashes purify everything on this damn Nineveh.

I wanted to see the innocent perish with the guilty, cursing them for this and upload them at the point of death, the sin of hatred that had chased them for a lifetime without ever reaching them. So that they too would be damned.

I wanted to see the triumph of justice, more visceral hatred of my instrument. I wanted to see blood, I said to your job, what would have washed the bruised memories of their victims, causing them to drown in malice on revenge. Because if you do not need to satisfy your thirst for hatred of the persecutors, what good is having a personal God? What can I do with a God of all, who loves, forgives all, welcomes all?

But so are you done, and even now if you here to torment me with your love. Leave me alone, leave me time to accept my success, my victory: this preaching that he got his purpose, which was converted, which led to repentance. I was so disappointed. And because he is purifying from within.

They can also affect the other high chiefs

and blogs

the foietton : the business as a serial novel that talks about selling the joys and

penalties: a blog about the differences between women and men in family life

gaze of Lazarus

when there is love

that I've never ...

An endless wire

Worksheet Persuasive Writing

The lookologo

I noticed that this year will bring the horrible shoes. Boots cut off at the front and rear air vents, enhanced with fringe, studs, rhinestones, coins and who knows ... maybe on request from the milk teeth of your child. Even Eva Herzigova can
to be equivocal with that stuff on his feet. However this is not a fashion blog, so I will not go further in the argument. But use it to introduce the ex-emplare of today: the personal looker also said, as I read about a bad week, lookologo . In practice that dictates how it should relate to a woman.
If you think that some movie stars pay these actors look like hookers to Turkey, I have to laugh. But the stars are stars. The drama is normal when a woman starts with a man who plays to the lookologo. It will also be free, but it is less easy to dismiss him. Returning to the mutilated boots the other day I saw a girl who was wearing a Model all perforated, combined with leather leggings, checkered shirt, belt and physique barattatolo of Nutella, the one-pound. Given that for me everyone is free to wear what they want if it puts him at ease, the problem is this: the girl was not at home. It is barely holding on his heels, almost bent down and pulled his shirt to cover his continued Séderon. So you may ask? So there he was proud that her boyfriend-lookologo it away behind a carnival floats. Maybe! I am sure that the poor would have gladly traded those stilts with a pair of wheels.
You see from a mile away when he is responsible for the disaster. You can understand gloating from the face to perform with the poor to the public. He does not see that this is the stuff of sucks, does not see her illness, does not see the glances of the people. He sees only that his girlfriend is prepared as those bombshells TV. And this to him enough.
I remember two women, mother and daughter, who had this serious problem with the husband / father.
The good man was representative of leather. Would have been for him as well upholstered in leather toilet. Avendoglielo discouraged, he decided to dress in leather himself, his wife and daughter who, ironically, were both girls to be starched pink tulle and lace. In order not to displease the man of the house, the poor things wore corsets and bustiers to go even worthy of Catwoman to do the shopping. You saw all haggard and Madonnelle, stuffed in these sadomasochistic outfits, that you almost felt like taking a pair of scissors and cut them free. The daughter then she was thin as a rail el'armamentario tamer from the painfully fell off. His mother was a bit 'more plump, but the expression at Pina Fantozzi caused a tremendous contrast. The only was he satisfied with his double-breasted style wedding Fonzie. At the bottom of the two martyrs could have been worse: imagine if the householder had worked in the upholstery.

Many women complain that their man did not accompany them never to go shopping. For heaven's sake! Be more than happy! Should suddenly lookologo. You've never seen one in action?
"No, love, this is wrong, you slam your face too. Excuse me, makes us see something else? "
" But ... I liked "
" No, no. Here, yes, I like this style grunge. "
" Oh, it's all bored! "
" This year should be so. And there we match these jeans with tears in art. Perfect. "
" To me they seem blind to the tears. "
" Come on, try it. "
" Do not I look like a bombers? "
" You are a stunner, sweetheart. "
Yes, of course, crashed into a valley after a flying off a cliff.

Another case: one of my colleagues in the office continued to be made up in a suspicious way. Pencil eyes rimmed with white (yes, white), electric blue mascara and lipstick cherry red. Sometimes even added a mole on the chin. Once I suggested a diplomatic intervention in this regard: "Have you ever tried a different make-up, maybe put a darker eyeshadow on the eyes stand out more, are so beautiful."
"Heavens no, my husband is fixed for the white pencil. "
What kind of a husband has a fixation with white pencil ? Much healthier setting for Inter!

And have you ever noticed the wives of the hairdressers? Impossible do not. We also recognize in a huge crowd: hair futures resigned expression.
is usually the wives of the hair stylist fife experience their inner visions: Cockscomb, leopard hair, extensions, fuchsia, white streaks, but also from headache hanks, clumps zigzag fringes and asymmetric.
are no more reassuring those husbands who do not even notice when the wife goes to the hairdresser?


Until it comes to hair, patience, so they grow back. But the men that drive women from their plastic surgeon deserves only a shovelful of lime in the mouth.
"No, darling, I love your body! It's just that we frequent a certain environment, you know. A third is plenty more beautiful to see. Now they all do. Think about how you would be well quell'abitino black Armani I got you, you could put it without a padded bra that I made you buy together. "
sane Every woman should have the right answer to such a council. But for those who were to be taken aback, I suggest this: "if anyone here needs to silicon that is you. Instead get two prostheses implanted in his underwear because you clearly lack the attributes. "

course in my personal catalog could not miss a lookologo. Indeed, more than one. One of them once asked me:
"Where are you going this way?"
"Like what?"
"With these shoes,"
"Am I wrong or are we going to do a simple bike ride?"
"Yes, but these are for gymnastics."
"No, they are ordinary shoes for walking, rides running and things like that. "
" You do not find a suitable "
" What!? "
" To you. I'm not a woman. "
" Yes they are. I got them in the women's department. "
" Yes, but are made of rubber. "
" So? "
" I think that women should wear high heels, always. Above all, you're not so high. "
" I I think people should keep quiet, ever. Above all, you're not so smart. "

But it was another to reach the summit. This subject was a real impediment in dealing with his bike and one day he stopped to nibble at the traffic lights. I was behind him and I ustionai the calf on the exhaust. The next day I had a painful skin volcano that erupted yellowish liquid. The simpleton was frightened, and in the grip of guilt doctor called an old friend asking him to visit me even though it was Saturday.
Within minutes I received his text message: "Get ready, I'm coming to take me to John, a dear friend, doctor."
effort I put in a pair of blue trousers under the knee to facilitate the visit, white t-shirt and blue Superga.
Gianni was very polite. Perhaps in a bit too much. It seemed to me that it looked at me as I po'strano a medical and I rubbed the edges of the wound.
It was not bad either, but anyway ...
This begins to flirt in front of my boyfriend. Dunno, maybe I'm wrong.
But another pair of calf carezzine I took away all doubt. I was not mistaken.
Ok, Hans, you are so cute and I've also distracted from the pain, if I was not with this abboccamoto they could even speak, but that is the case, then you're good.
"That's it. If you were to get hurt, this is my business visit. "
Bella move, young doctor. Damn me, a person more or less for good!
"Thank you, but he's got your number."
I gave him a smile as if to say
You're exaggerating.
In fact, at this point you should open a long period on another species of hominid: the Rischiatutto. Maybe in another post.
Back to us, once out of the study, my ex decreed caustic:
"You made me make a fool of."
Ops, if they have noticed.
Vebbè, we begin with a healthy fall from the clouds.
"I? Why did I do? "
" The you know. "
continue with a sacrosanct denial.
"I have not done anything."
"But I warned you that John is a friend of mine!"
"Well, it was him ..."
"What he has to do? You made that! "
Oh God, I started to flirt with him without realizing it. I must be crazy!
"Bah, I just wanted to be polite, instill received us on Saturday ..."
"What are you talking about? So, you think that the way to meet a dress for my friend? We had also written to prepare the SMS "
" Cooomeee ?!?!?!"
"You put everything into simple, Capri pants and white t-shirt anonymous. Mica you were going to the beach? Do not have thought that I might like to introduce some 'better? "
" I did not understand, I had to put in an evening gown to make me go to a nasty burn pile, which by the way I got because of you? "
"This is a different matter. Only needed a dress, a sandal ... "
I hate that the singular! Two! I have two feet!
"Now I think that I started with a girl all."
"And yet I know what I'm thinking? What I started with a rare idiot. One such idiot to be unable to withstand even a motorbike. But above all so stupid as to say rubbish like this hurt me banging in the brain, which is why I also feel a bit 'crazy right now. And a fool can afford to say anything. Also you're an asshole! "
" ... "
" Shut up! I have not finished! You know what else you say? "
" What else can I say? "
" I say that your friend is not so very sorry. "
" You think so? "
" I say Yes! "
" Bah. Hopefully. In fact, at least you were wearing makeup and hair were pretty good. "

!!!!!

Insert Jpg Into Autocad 2010?

Mother of Sorrows

Mother, oh mother. I may not forget you. Every time I pass the hospice where you're dead, assails me a thrill that can stir feelings of guilt and liberation, as if these two dimensions could not be separated even now that you are no longer here and I imagine that in a peace without end, the peace that you have always pursued, sweeping away everything and everyone in your quest resentful and restless.

Even me.

And this anxiety, your anxiety, you left me as a gift, as a legacy uncomfortable, but wise. Of those that keep you awake the soul, in a fight without end. Why peace is the daughter of two opposites: the stupid and bloody peace, like a dry desert plain under a sky washed out and planed, without wind or a war without end, fought against ourselves, without respite and without prisoners no nights to rest, no heaven to behold, full of wind, the cold, sharp, down from the north and it stops if not at the juncture between soul and flesh, and perhaps not even there, the war that leaves you breathless, yet as happy as the hero who gives his life for what he believes.

say that those who are amputee limb by, say a leg for years yet still feel as if it were still there, hanging on to them. Here, with you I feel the same thing. You're still here, clinging to me like you were in life. Your love angry and violent I was suffocating: it loads all the answers that I did not have in life, not because she did not tell you the dates, but because you were not ever happy. You were so tense, but calm: claim to have an open account with life, and you did pay for all those who tried to love you, as if love were to twist in retaliation for revenge.

's strange, even if you die alone -Do you take me to exhaustion and that I will not forgive me I know, have you left to die alone, in a coma in agreement, but no one that you held my hand, not even me, and this disgusts me, for pity and pride : I can not say that I was there, that sound humiliation, see in the end you loved me even dying in the night to let the bitterness sweet sound and uproots my vices in one-bedroom that he had finally obtained, as yet another whim, as if he was there all the good of the universe, even if your death has quelled my resentment, and opened the door to a love that I knew I had for you, but not of this magnitude has not subsided dark memories nor has cloaked them of that sweetness that seems to lack a gift to each memory. Quite the contrary. Made them more vivid, lucid, sharp, even if they were deprived of that poison that, when you were alive, I clouded her vision and his heart choked me pushing it down into a sludge of hatred and dependence in which it seemed sinking in quicksand as malignant.

And so the first image I see is not the smile with which I welcome you as a child, not yet as old as tasteless and pulled, or the embrace with which I thank you for being there. It is on the look of love that still shines in an old black and white photos. You are in the background, bias, bent, keep those bright eyes, as I've ever seen on me that a little further, but focus in the foreground, taking its first wobbly steps and you will see that, with the bib of colored cloth that I remember very well, for one of those strange games of memory that is fun to pull out of the mist details that tell you what you just can not remember. Stand there and watch me and the joy seems to paint this picture with the white jagged edges, and I do not see you, but I know you're there, you're ready to catch me. I trust you. We got all our lives there. Even Dad, far away in the darkness of the corridor, he has gone out first and you waited with the same delicacy hidden with which you left in the foreground, in broad daylight, to always choose pastel colors, edges, minute spots of shade. I have always believed that you had given another slap to your whim, had the courage, the lives of all would be different. I assume the best.

No. It is not that face, that light that I remember when I close my eyes and think of you.

But the embers of your cigarette, trying to fight the darkness in which you closed. The flashing red light when you brought me to sleep with you in the afternoon, as a child, two on my bed, head to toe, because I do not bother sleeping the rest. And I see the light on and off alternately noise that you were to shake the ashes in the ashtray embossed copper who now has pride of place as a shrine, among the objects that I have kept. And the same light in the dark kitchen, always you kept the shutters down, while severe judge me-I always find myself always judged guilty for being able to give your love, something that made you happy because it lets you believe you are magnanimous, and in silence, smoking, touching your hair, twisting his mouth and eyes to the ground by bending, suspending time, so as to prolong my suffering and your satisfaction.

Yet loved me so much. And you wanted to keep for yourself. Just for you. And I loved you, I love you even now. How could I not love someone gave me life. And, tragically, to keep it happy, off to himself that of two brothers that I never had. So how to turn off the cigarette, with anger and speed. I am a survivor, mom. A son unicizzato. A child bathed in blood of brothers and elevated to divinity, with the task of keeping the family together because everything is done for him. Everything. As a black hole that attracts all things to himself, torn from its existence, ground into a love that soaks complacent. Why the love for me, I soon realized, was actually a pretext, a mirror, you had so much affection that I need to embrace that resembled imprisoned in More power to the protection of a kidnapper of a mother.

Mom, this acid cola I still heart that I speak to you now, standing here in front of what remains of you here in our midst, and I can not discern the good from the pain, to draw a line between your dry egoism and mine, between your suffering is what causes a nearly perfect science. Why suffer

you have suffered, and often because of other, although in recent years, the memories were often watered down the imagination, from what I feared, wanted, hoped. And the violence was confused with what you wanted to be able to avenge receipt and boast. I remember the last days. August, on the terrace of the burnt nursing home. Mumbled words, talking out of turn, criticized, asked me, claimed. Nothing else. Yet I understand that they were the last hours and hangs like a branch that will save you from the abyss. But I let go and instead I fall, I was suspended and you fall into the chasm you.

And mom, but I can not remove the lining of hate across our life together-we knew how much you hurt, my mother-now I can feel the love grow new, purified, strengthened that comes from a new neighborhood, separated only by the thin veil of the sky.


You can also affect the other high chiefs:

An endless wire

passion and feeling

Two tracks in the sand

How To Stitch Churidar Pajamas

Love in the Time of SIP - Part II The nebulous

the post about love in the time of the SIP has (re) generated so many memories and comments from my friends, who I think deserves a sequel.

Someone, for example, brought me back to memories of the infamous role of those who had to wait for the call.
I, the unhappy / not only could not leave the house, but could not take a shower, drying clothes or take a nap the whole time of waiting. That could last for days and days.
And if there were more people in the house who waited an important call, the atmosphere was so electric that you could pass the vacuum cleaner without plugging into the socket.
The phone was at the center the living room, like an oracle, like a Buddha. Mute when you were staring, deafening just entered the bath.
But for some obscure reason you felt that your life depended on that wire spiral, twisted forever and always too short.
In a house of my knowledge, there lived a family consisting of parents and five children. The latest addition to considerable time after the fourth. When the first four were in full storm of adolescence, then, the little guy took its first steps. And often it was right near the phone, that if they were to ring trouble. Four bison furious hurled at the TV ignoring the little brother who regularly flew in the air, landing on the provident carpet. Over the years, the baby grew up and started running towards the phone with his brothers. And fly through the air at that time was the cat.

Someone else instead I drew attention to the indecent, but useful practice of "squilletto. Your boyfriend told you he would stay at home all evening? Ok. I trust you. Indeed not. We do squilletto. He answered and you put down, without saying anything. Bravo. But the obsessive compulsive disorder that was not enough. And the technique of squilletto went on all night until the poor and you unplug the phone the next day you were allowed to smash the Maronites' because you were called to give him good night and found unplugged, of course had made him just about a minute before leaving to go to camp out with the herd of idiots of his friends. "

When he had a long distance relationship the phone becomes an extension of your body.
Why not just cell phones did not exist, but there was no Internet, there were no airlines, trains and Red Arrow.
Being able to, I'd swallowed that thing just to feel closer to the heart of your sweetheart. Beginning. Usually in September, when still gives you the illusion that the flirt your summer was a great love story.
to the feast of All Saints began to do the math. Weekly cost for phone calls: twenty thousand francs. Releases in the center to show off her boyfriend in front of single friends: zero. And a voice announce
well up: "I'm sorry I have to call girls' first apartments with a phone booth, it was not the same effect.
before Christmas, you realize that your girlfriend was as good as the status of a subscription has expired.
And if someone asked you how was your boyfriend, you say: "Bah, cute, yes. But none of that. Of course, not the ones with the old-fashioned gray scroll wheel. He at least has the frets. And when it rings around lights. But in truth I do not turn on as before. "
By January, the" fidanzafono "was formally informed of its new and final former condition. By registered without proof of receipt.

is a long time that I no longer have a landline at home, but when I see other people's rest home in a more and more surprised by the level of technology. Display to identify who's calling, screen for video calls, Internet connection, USB port, etc. hot water tap.
Once the phones were all the same. Mouse-gray, with small buttons and wheel mangiadito white hysteria and repeated pressed on busy. And then there were no little voice, that of the ladies today if you make mistakes cazziatone number.
The first time my grandmother - a po'sorda - came into contact with a small voice, he hung up abruptly, indignantly.
"What's grandmother, who was it?"
"I have the wrong number. I called a shameless scicchignacche with one voice. "

However I said that originally a single model, then, in the early nineties, the phone has become a gadget of worship and have come out of all kinds: in the form sandwiches, canned, lobster, banana ... more strange was the style and less likely was the conversation. A little 'because it never worked well, a little' because how do we entrust their speeches to a dachshund with a wire coming out the ass ... sorry?
I had one shaped like a tennis shoe but did not use it because it gave me pleasure a nagging feeling that someone walked on the face.
It's better than that of a friend of mine-shaped cabinet.
Once his mother organized a fine dinner for the principal of her husband. One of those dinners array of linen tablecloths, silver cutlery and crystal glasses.
When the illustrious visitor asked to make a phone call, the father of my friend proudly showed him the new Sirius, one designed by Giugiaro design guru.
chief apologized and asked her if they did not have a phone in another room, because the call was a bit 'delicate.
"Of course, my daughter's room there is another phone. Go ahead, you there, she went out. "
The poor man, however, did not enter the daughter's room for about six months. And that is, before the old phone was replaced by a water wheel.
I wonder if after many years, the father of my friend was able to take it with humor and laugh at the time he was forced to extend a process to his boss.

The unfortunate event but it was not enough because the girl was free of that phone, Valentine's Day gift from his greatest love. You can imagine the rest.
Once another friend of ours decided it was time to give up her boyfriend useless and cumbersome. And he decided to do so by telephone from his home but could not because his father - a bit like an 'old - had never discovered that she had a boyfriend, and find out at the end of the affair would not have improved things.
Usually she called him from the cabin, but did not want to let go that way. Did not love him anymore, but the poor fellow did not deserve such an end. And so she asked her friend with guest toilet. I also went in my usual role as a supporter for unloading goods. The
mollatrice but did not know that phone, its form, and was startled when she saw him.
"Oh my God! But what is it? "
" The device by which you will return a free person. "
" What is a phone?!? No, no, I can not use. Do not you have another? "
" Yes, but in the living room where my brother is looking at the paintings. "
" But really how can you leave one with this contraption!? "
" How do you do with any other phone. "
" I can not, I can not! "
" ufff! How long do the "
" Look, you do so, close your eyes, tell him what you say and attacks. Just close the table. "
and pull the exhaust
..." Okay come on. And ... oh my God, panic. What do I say? "
" And I know, the usual things you say when you give someone who just does not hold anymore, that kind of stuff I do not know how I feel, I need time to think, are in crisis etc. etc. "
" Nooo, that bad! I would have thought about, I was fine with you. You're a good guy and will always be in my heart, but try to understand me, I feel the need to have new experiences. "
" which translated would be: not like you anymore, but you are so unlucky that I will not punish him. Appreciate the gesture and raising of the way that I feel like having a good time '. "
"Not true! Always the same cynical. I do not love you more but I still love. "
" Ok ok ... "The girl

brandished the bathroom furniture and began the procedure smollaggio.
"Hello, hello, I am. Do you feel you need to talk. "
" I too. "
" Oh yeah? And what I have to say? "
" I ... I do not know how I feel about you. I need time to think and ... "
" You are in crisis. "
" Exactly. "
" Hey ... do me a favor ... but go to hell. "


" Here. See that eventually the phone will be served as an inspiration? "

Christmas List Template Printable

This matter of the cloud of ash that has knocked the air traffic has made me think about a kind of man who is shorting out the female population: the nebulous. The nebulous
is confused, uncertain, doubtful. Never responds to questions with clarity, does not take sides, does not know how she feels, does not know what to say. His intentions, his true feelings are a mystery. Wrapped, in fact, in a dense cloud of "boh".
For a woman hit a nebulous is a great misfortune. But not realize it until the end because the beginning is always the presumption that they have the key for that being "complicated and wonderful that no one has ever understood." After a period of time that varies from woman to woman, the only key is that everyone wants to English smash in the head and observe how they are organized nebuoloso those few neurons that live there.
Yes, because the nebulous may also appear attractive at first, but later, removing the layer of dust, you will find only other powder. Yet
around there are thousands that are reproduced as surrogates.
Of course I also had my good nebulous. When I went out with him, the moment in the stock market was essential. Our conversations touched peaks of absurdity unspeakable.
"Tomorrow we go to sea with the boys?"
"Hmmmm .. bah, if you like, I do not know, actually, I might, however, come on, if you want, I figured, I come to the limit, then we see, I do not know, maybe you go, then I see ... "
" I did not understand. Let's go or not? "
" Here, you, like all other women, always want a clear answer on everything for you is all white or black. You women do not know the gray. "
" Sure, it is the color of brain matter that you're missing. "

" Sorry, I know why I continue to present as your friend? "
" Well, I do not know I do not know what to say, we are also instill friends, and then ... but why do you ask? "
" Because I think we are at ABC. "
" ... I do not know, why fixate on the definitions, friend's cute anyway, what's wrong, but if you do not go well, maybe let's change it, I do not know, if you insist, I do not mind if I introduce myself as friend, but does not mean it can prove feelings for you, even though I'm not sure which, though short, it seems to me that you are well together, then you should understand what it means to be well ... "
" Correct me, we are not AI. "

To obvious reasons, the problems began almost immediately, and there the Moment is insufficient. One evening I experienced three glasses of sparkling wine on an empty stomach and I realized it worked.
But it's not that you may end for a drunken stoned.
So I said enough to painkillers, I took him for a pizza and my weapon of vacuum cleaner.
"Look, I'd be a bit 'tired of this relationship amorphous. Perhaps it's to clarify things "
The word" clarify "the nebulous has the effect of a pepper spray.
"CLARIFY?! Why? That is what that reason is, I do not know, tell me what you mean, I can even try, but do not know, I guarantee you, but come on, for you I try, I keep it, even if you do not really know ... "
- The Lords have chosen to get pizza?
"No, just a moment, please excuse us."
- Please Please take your time.
"I want understand how you feel for me and value from our relationship. "
said it may seem like a style a bit 'too Court of Nuremberg. I never dreamed of doing an interview like a normal person, but I decided to go down heavy. Or is it or nothing. And the split. The nebulous
rolled on itself and began to writhe like a python.
"What's the matter?"
"No is that to me these questions so I sweat, I'm not the type that ... I ... I ... That's it. I am a bit 'confused. "
I'm confused. There it is the first mark of nebulous. As if the confusion you take such a sudden heart attack and others should not make you shake. But I do not I let go.
"This is not an answer. You decide. "
" Well, well, it's simple, so out of hand, I do not know, you know not decide "
Meanwhile, the waiter buzzed around the block orders.
"In life you make choices."
"Well yes, I guess so, it's just that I have not decided the type, I can not choose .."
"If you know what you want, of course you know what to choose. Look inside, ask yourself what you want, answer to yourself and then ... "
Then the waiter came over and said discrete
" Excuse me, but if the lord just do not know what to choose, we also have great pasta dishes. "
... ... ... ... ...

In fact, the only decisions that night were a daisy, a carbonara and a kick in the ass.

Almost all my friends have run into a hazy. One in particular has my sympathy because he lived in the cloud for about eight years.
She eventually, exhausted, he asked
"I want to know if you love me."
pepper spray.
"I?"
"You, yes you. Who do you think you're talking about, with your coat?!? "
Given that the pitch exhausted from hysteria, is short.
"I ... I think ... that I do not know if we say that ... oh well ... ... I will respect you very much!"
"What the fuck do I care that I deem necessary? I want to know if you love me! "
" ... I do not know, I think that ... I'm confused. "
first mark.
"Are you confused since I know you, now you sconfondi and tell me if you love me or not. And be careful what you say because if I answer yes, we are getting married later this year. "
Drrrrrrrranghete.
"Oh ... oh ... well ... .. aucch Spich stump ... ... ... SPOF. Zac ... .."
Nebula shorted. But then ...
"I have a great idea! Let's take a pause for thought! "
on time, the second buoy nebulous. The pause, aka: the period during which the party seeking the break doing what they like, some are even children, and the sufferer is to set the phone day and night until your eyes are not asking for pity.
Usually when the woman asks the break, is the prelude of the end. When the man asks, why is another which has the hands and wants to have a good time without feeling guilty.
"Great idea a sledgehammer. During the last break you in going to reflect in Brazil. I want an answer now. Love me or not? "
" I, not I know ... "
" Do not you know? Ok. For me it's okay. For me not knowing it is tantamount to a no. You and me we're not together anymore. Now go away. "
" NO! WAIT! "
Another distinctive feature of nebulous: the terror of clear positions. Let it means making a decision, however, and in some ways out of the cloud. Bruised, but in light of the sun. And the hazy hates sunlight.
"Wait ... wait, what are these hasty decisions, piccicucci ..."
"Nothing piccicucci. O love me or not. Answer me! "
" I ... well ... here. WE ARE! I ... "
Tataaaaaaan
..." Me? "
"I .... I loved you. There. Of this I'm sure. Unfounded and that's something no? Yes, I have loved, period. Of this I am sure. "
And this unshakable certainty, especially useful for a future together, the curtain finally fell.

I think that a real social evil are nebulous. It is their fault if relations continue to exist for sterile years and then leaving before the important decisions are shipwrecked adrift poor girls stunned. Schools should be established in time of personal defense against the nebulous.
"If a man says to you - I do not know how I feel about you, but also because the feelings in a squalid jail definition? - Instead of doing nodded with a smile fool from the poet's muse, sferrategli a hook on the jaw, here, here where there is bone, and escape. "
Too many women still fall for it. And with their acquiescence worsen the danger of nebulous, which can pass the helpless helpless in up to eighty.
Recently I read in the newspapers of a similar problem: pigeons. These flying rats
scagazzano in our city doing very serious damage to buildings and monuments. They carry diseases, are dirty and stink. Yet there is an army of ignorant people who still feed them. For who knows, they were plump enough. A pigeon weighs more than Piazza San Marco of an Indian child.
The City of Milan, however, has been pretty good idea: to attract the pigeons in specific areas in which steal their eggs, so as to limit reproduction.
wonder that the strategy can be applied also to the nebulous: lure them all in a fenced area, to pay the plaintiffs that they lend themselves to pretend confused reports, is prohibited subject of children, and get that to a sweet, smooth, pain-free ... FIGHTING.