The Kite Runner
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
My Baby Cheeks Are Rosey
sure you enter [says you gotta love]
Spring does not knock you enter secure
as the smoke penetrates every crevice she
lips meat has the hair of wheat
that fear, that wants you take your hand.
that fear, which should take you far. [1]
I open a window in the warmth of my heart, still wrapped in cloth and rubber, protected from the tremors. That spring, the blue sky through the essence of which I drink, drunk my senses in the glare of the sun, hitting a betrayal with the shy and look sharp glare of light, sounds frantic announcing hints of life bursting and ready to explode - how those magnolia buds tinged with pink - it sinks into me. I need a life. I need to let me hold your hand without fear of looking into his eyes.
And while I blow a breath
pushes the south wind whispers
another call that says you must love
that says you gotta love. [2]
Outside in the dark quiet, muffled and unreal atmosphere of the night, screaming wind, carrying with it the rest of the day just consumed. Breath without noise, with an imperceptible movement of the chest that I feel I'm alive. says you gotta love .
[1] A chemical - F. De André
[2] Baroque Clouds - F. De André
Spring does not knock you enter secure
as the smoke penetrates every crevice she
lips meat has the hair of wheat
that fear, that wants you take your hand.
that fear, which should take you far. [1]
I open a window in the warmth of my heart, still wrapped in cloth and rubber, protected from the tremors. That spring, the blue sky through the essence of which I drink, drunk my senses in the glare of the sun, hitting a betrayal with the shy and look sharp glare of light, sounds frantic announcing hints of life bursting and ready to explode - how those magnolia buds tinged with pink - it sinks into me. I need a life. I need to let me hold your hand without fear of looking into his eyes.
And while I blow a breath
pushes the south wind whispers
another call that says you must love
that says you gotta love. [2]
Outside in the dark quiet, muffled and unreal atmosphere of the night, screaming wind, carrying with it the rest of the day just consumed. Breath without noise, with an imperceptible movement of the chest that I feel I'm alive. says you gotta love .
[1] A chemical - F. De André
[2] Baroque Clouds - F. De André
How To Adjust Flame In Propane Furnace
seduction techniques
Polidori laughed, said, "But sometimes you can do small exercises provisional, without going so far as the Buddhist contemplation of decaying corpses. It can do infinite. Get a small stretch of lawn, try to keep it perfect. Or take a small aquarium with fish and seaweed. Or the cleaning of a room in a family relationship, the temperature of your feelings. Try to consider the continued efforts that any minimum balance also requires, and how easy it is overwhelmed by the time when your efforts or your attention is loose, wiped out as if there had ever been. We desperately to cut the grass with all the care they are able, and the rakes and fertilizer and water to the rollers and every day, then you just stop working for two weeks, and you had the mental image of Your lawn does not correspond to anything. "
" But the grass is still there, no?''I told him. "It takes only another form. Even if it gets too high or clears, or a lawn is always dry.
"But the only thing in your lawn was just the form," Polidori said. "And what is gone. The fact that the grass continues to be is irrelevant. E 'out of you. "
His way of seeing things from the outside now exasperated me, and I got up, I said" you always speak as if there were any rules that you can not subtract ".
" But there are, "he said." We would all that there were, but they are there. And even if the animals are quite complex just a minimum of observation to understand how they work. This passion is fueled by what you do not know of another person, that much of what you know. If you do not know and have some good initial element you can imagine anything. Overlay your fantasies to the shadows, and if there are many gray areas have even more space, you can keep us full of dreams. But the trouble with love is that it produces a very concentrated, is only a matter of time before clearing up every little corner. And usually there are a lot more, when the shade is dissolved.
Polidori laughed, said, "But sometimes you can do small exercises provisional, without going so far as the Buddhist contemplation of decaying corpses. It can do infinite. Get a small stretch of lawn, try to keep it perfect. Or take a small aquarium with fish and seaweed. Or the cleaning of a room in a family relationship, the temperature of your feelings. Try to consider the continued efforts that any minimum balance also requires, and how easy it is overwhelmed by the time when your efforts or your attention is loose, wiped out as if there had ever been. We desperately to cut the grass with all the care they are able, and the rakes and fertilizer and water to the rollers and every day, then you just stop working for two weeks, and you had the mental image of Your lawn does not correspond to anything. "
" But the grass is still there, no?''I told him. "It takes only another form. Even if it gets too high or clears, or a lawn is always dry.
"But the only thing in your lawn was just the form," Polidori said. "And what is gone. The fact that the grass continues to be is irrelevant. E 'out of you. "
His way of seeing things from the outside now exasperated me, and I got up, I said" you always speak as if there were any rules that you can not subtract ".
" But there are, "he said." We would all that there were, but they are there. And even if the animals are quite complex just a minimum of observation to understand how they work. This passion is fueled by what you do not know of another person, that much of what you know. If you do not know and have some good initial element you can imagine anything. Overlay your fantasies to the shadows, and if there are many gray areas have even more space, you can keep us full of dreams. But the trouble with love is that it produces a very concentrated, is only a matter of time before clearing up every little corner. And usually there are a lot more, when the shade is dissolved.
- from techniques of seduction Andrea De Carlo -
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
â??netcam Live Imageâ
On Outlook - Where the sky meets the earth
"They stood guard for a moment, but for a moment that seemed an eternity too."
not believe my eyes, and awkward as a child I hold my ice cream cone, being careful not to do so in this particular March sun, which is laboriously open a chink in the clouds, then sweeping them all, like a distant memory.
Whip My creme brulee ice cream - the taste that I thought existed only in the novel as the perfect love, built on the thin case calculation.
And for a few minutes walk to the cone with my creme brulee and I feel a bit 'Tatiana, hopeful and unsuspecting, on Nevsky Prospekt, waiting for - now and forever - a moment that is not calculated as fresh blood, warm and fluid , bright red in my veins.
"They stood guard for a moment, but for a moment that seemed an eternity too."
not believe my eyes, and awkward as a child I hold my ice cream cone, being careful not to do so in this particular March sun, which is laboriously open a chink in the clouds, then sweeping them all, like a distant memory.
Whip My creme brulee ice cream - the taste that I thought existed only in the novel as the perfect love, built on the thin case calculation.
And for a few minutes walk to the cone with my creme brulee and I feel a bit 'Tatiana, hopeful and unsuspecting, on Nevsky Prospekt, waiting for - now and forever - a moment that is not calculated as fresh blood, warm and fluid , bright red in my veins.
I Will not Be The Last
I will not be the first
Find A Way To Where the sky meets the earth
It's all right and all wrong For me it
begins at the end of the road
We Come And Go ...
- End of the road, Eddie Vedder -
I will not be the first
Find A Way To Where the sky meets the earth
It's all right and all wrong For me it
begins at the end of the road
We Come And Go ...
- End of the road, Eddie Vedder -
Sunday, March 9, 2008
How Long Does Dog Sperm Live
Here
I am here,
in the rain.
Like you.
- Your pain is my feeling -
And hold her body
wounded and unconscious.
collect your tears in my hands and bathroom
my heart,
to restore a heartbeat
of life.
breath here.
I am here,
in the rain.
Like you.
- Your pain is my feeling -
And hold her body
wounded and unconscious.
collect your tears in my hands and bathroom
my heart,
to restore a heartbeat
of life.
breath here.
[read two poems in T. C. Pavese]
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Zune Hd Bluetooth Attachment
Hours
would write for about an hour, then eat something.
not eat is a vice, a type of drug - an empty stomach feels fast and clean, bright mind, ready for a battle. Sip coffee, puts it down, stretches out his arms. This is one of the most unique experiences: waking up in what looks like a good day, preparing for work, but not really yet begun. This moment holds infinite possibilities for hours to come. The mind buzzes. This can penetrate the morning mist, clogged pipes, to reach the gold. Can you feel it inside, a second self indescribable, or rather itself a parallel, purer. If it were religious would call "soul." It 'more than the sum of his intellect and his emotions, more than the sum of his experiences, although all three runs through the veins as lustrous. It 'an inner faculty that recognizes the animating mysteries of the world, because it is made of the same substance, and when it is very fortunate she is able to write by drawing directly from the faculty. Write in that state is the deepest satisfaction that I know. But its ability to access it comes and goes without notice. May challenge the pen and follow it with his hand as it moves to the paper, may challenge the pen and find that it's just her, a woman in a bathrobe holding a pen, afraid and uncertain, with an expertise only superficial and no idea where to begin or what to write.
Grab your pen.
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy her flowers.
would write for about an hour, then eat something.
not eat is a vice, a type of drug - an empty stomach feels fast and clean, bright mind, ready for a battle. Sip coffee, puts it down, stretches out his arms. This is one of the most unique experiences: waking up in what looks like a good day, preparing for work, but not really yet begun. This moment holds infinite possibilities for hours to come. The mind buzzes. This can penetrate the morning mist, clogged pipes, to reach the gold. Can you feel it inside, a second self indescribable, or rather itself a parallel, purer. If it were religious would call "soul." It 'more than the sum of his intellect and his emotions, more than the sum of his experiences, although all three runs through the veins as lustrous. It 'an inner faculty that recognizes the animating mysteries of the world, because it is made of the same substance, and when it is very fortunate she is able to write by drawing directly from the faculty. Write in that state is the deepest satisfaction that I know. But its ability to access it comes and goes without notice. May challenge the pen and follow it with his hand as it moves to the paper, may challenge the pen and find that it's just her, a woman in a bathrobe holding a pen, afraid and uncertain, with an expertise only superficial and no idea where to begin or what to write.
Grab your pen.
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy her flowers.
- The hours from M. Cunningham -
Libby 6e Financial Accounting
Breakfast at Tiffany's Jules and Jim
Moon River a lot of world together. But when Jim warned that he would stay with her for only five days, Kathe left without him. Another great divide. She wrote to him not - neither he wrote to her. Jim believed once again that all was over. It 'nice to have no agreements or promises, and rely on, one day after another only on their love. But when it blows the questions, groping in the void.
-
Jules and Jim by Henri-Pierre Roché -
Moon River a lot of world together. But when Jim warned that he would stay with her for only five days, Kathe left without him. Another great divide. She wrote to him not - neither he wrote to her.
-
Jules and Jim by Henri-Pierre Roché -
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