10 000 lux
They call it a privilege. I would call it an insult.
*****
I am moody today. This must be the lack of light. Pure mechanics. The weather is gray and I despair. Simple cause and effect. I should devote myself to light therapy. 10 000 lux and I'd be a happy woman. It's so simple life, when one thinks of the merits. And 10 000 lux, which is nicer than ECT.
It reminds me that although I would eventually The Bell Jar . Who knows why I stretch a reading that moves me though. How did I do to go about a thousand activities between each reading?
"" Neurotic, ha! "I let out a scornful laugh. "If neurotic IS Mutually exclusive Wanting Two Things At One and the Same Time, Then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth Between Mutually Exclusive One Thing and Another For the rest of my days. "" *****
this summer I was asked why I did not take no holidays. Of course I answered anything, being unable to tell the truth. What good is telling the truth to someone who a) does not really hear b) could return against you, and c) that you're completely sacred. Note that b) is not so important. I do not care basically I just wanted to simplify my life. Keep in mind all you want against me. You will never reach me.
But you, I'll tell you. Why is it that I do about holidays? Because it's too difficult. Live for a few days of life to which I aspire, the life that I partially known and then return later to this day that robs me, it's just too difficult.
devote myself to literature with my love, it's the only thing I want. When I remember all those days we spent side by side to read, write and reflect, in cafes, home or in classrooms, I cry. That's real life for me.
*****
For several days I saw a little, then. I write, I spend time in the company of loved ones and I read. I took the opportunity this morning to put me in the magnificent reading Simon Brousseau is on double room of Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace . I imagine that this reading is not foreign to my present state ... I'm absolutely read Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace , but how I shall succeed in overcoming of 1000 pages, in addition to English? (I'm in this phase where I can not bring myself to read a work translated into English but when reading in English still takes me 2 to 3 times longer ...)
more it goes the more I think I will take no courses to complete my certification this winter. Whether winter or summer, it will not change much. I have an idea that I would absolutely work and I want to have a little time to read too ...
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Colloidal Silver Glaucoma
A spark
This morning like most mornings off, I woke up too early, at about the time that I wake up when I go to the office. Sleep is a mechanical relentless. I would love to sleep longer, but my body used to waking up five days a week always at the same time decided to make it to his head. So here I stand, my love while still asleep. I have yet to drink coffee because I still hope lorsqu'Amélie still asleep eventually return back to sleep against her warm body. At the very least I can enjoy the pleasure of announcing when it will wake up "I wrote on LJ! "- What the delight, I know. Or, is there a greater happiness than to make happy the woman you love? And let's be honest, I also overflows with joy when I come back here. I like seeing one of my dearest friends, whom I unjustly abandoned, though my life is so intimately tied to his.
So I woke up too early, I said, I traveled briefly Facebook then I consulted my RSS reader to see what was happening on the blogs - I do not know why, too, since my rss reader, far from bringing me blogs, me to Pluto , t away. I remember those days where I patiently from one address to another, where I attached each time they deserve, even - especially - those who e ; scribe once every two months ... The truth is that my claims me away from daily obligations blog, I have already said, and that stopping to write about as I stopped to read. The two have been inseparable for me. Should I take both, certainly, but I will certainly start to read.
Looking through my rss reader infamous, so I came across a beautiful text that blip wrote, where he spoke LS fireflies Didi-Huberman. Through his thoughts, twitching wrote this wonderful thing: "How can we make an apology for the time without realizing that our voices faithfully reproduce the hissing a viper. " Aphorism so well crafted that the replays to infinity although we each read is perfectly painful. It took me back to Minima Moralia . I thought that was exactly the kind of sentence that could be found in Minima Moralia .
I thought Minima Moralia, then, and it led me elsewhere. And it put me in fucking. I started to think about these people who stand still in a position to dominate others and complete mastery of their subject. Mostly, it just annoys me, but this morning it makes me furious. And I think it fucking pathetic. It fucking pathetic Always make sure that we will be in a position that will allow us to completely dominate another is fucking pathetic to praise of the other when we ' arranged so that there is always that of me is fucking pathetic to repeat endlessly the same phrases about the same things, it fucking pathetic to ensure that the voice on the other we will never do that to argue in a wide staging is fucking pathetic to think that the other has nothing relevant to say - shit, now burst eardrums and tore up his eyes, for that matter, As well as being so full of yourself, you're obviously convinced that the world did nothing to bring you so much - is fucking pathetic never agree to confront the new, to the non-mastered, it fucking pathetic have traditionally lost the ability to be shaken. It's fucking pathetic. And more and more I write my anger subsides because, in truth, it's just sad to be dead like that, being dead for so long. At the very least, this would just be sad if this rule was not effective ...
This morning like most mornings off, I woke up too early, at about the time that I wake up when I go to the office. Sleep is a mechanical relentless. I would love to sleep longer, but my body used to waking up five days a week always at the same time decided to make it to his head. So here I stand, my love while still asleep. I have yet to drink coffee because I still hope lorsqu'Amélie still asleep eventually return back to sleep against her warm body. At the very least I can enjoy the pleasure of announcing when it will wake up "I wrote on LJ! "- What the delight, I know. Or, is there a greater happiness than to make happy the woman you love? And let's be honest, I also overflows with joy when I come back here. I like seeing one of my dearest friends, whom I unjustly abandoned, though my life is so intimately tied to his.
So I woke up too early, I said, I traveled briefly Facebook then I consulted my RSS reader to see what was happening on the blogs - I do not know why, too, since my rss reader, far from bringing me blogs, me to Pluto , t away. I remember those days where I patiently from one address to another, where I attached each time they deserve, even - especially - those who e ; scribe once every two months ... The truth is that my claims me away from daily obligations blog, I have already said, and that stopping to write about as I stopped to read. The two have been inseparable for me. Should I take both, certainly, but I will certainly start to read.
Looking through my rss reader infamous, so I came across a beautiful text that blip wrote, where he spoke LS fireflies Didi-Huberman. Through his thoughts, twitching wrote this wonderful thing: "How can we make an apology for the time without realizing that our voices faithfully reproduce the hissing a viper. " Aphorism so well crafted that the replays to infinity although we each read is perfectly painful. It took me back to Minima Moralia . I thought that was exactly the kind of sentence that could be found in Minima Moralia .
I thought Minima Moralia, then, and it led me elsewhere. And it put me in fucking. I started to think about these people who stand still in a position to dominate others and complete mastery of their subject. Mostly, it just annoys me, but this morning it makes me furious. And I think it fucking pathetic. It fucking pathetic Always make sure that we will be in a position that will allow us to completely dominate another is fucking pathetic to praise of the other when we ' arranged so that there is always that of me is fucking pathetic to repeat endlessly the same phrases about the same things, it fucking pathetic to ensure that the voice on the other we will never do that to argue in a wide staging is fucking pathetic to think that the other has nothing relevant to say - shit, now burst eardrums and tore up his eyes, for that matter, As well as being so full of yourself, you're obviously convinced that the world did nothing to bring you so much - is fucking pathetic never agree to confront the new, to the non-mastered, it fucking pathetic have traditionally lost the ability to be shaken. It's fucking pathetic. And more and more I write my anger subsides because, in truth, it's just sad to be dead like that, being dead for so long. At the very least, this would just be sad if this rule was not effective ...
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Collectors Plates To Sell
treat from mototoksikoza all guests))
January 8 in 12-00 days, preglashaem everyone on motorcycles Morkovnikov, treat mototoksikoza from everyone!
Based School Stunt Master MotoPortal with Moto Quad Moto School holds barbecues with pokatushki the snow in the Urals with sidecars and pleasant conversations on topics moto;)
The program includes:
- 12-00 gathering guests,
- Test for suitability Professor,
- Pokatushki and Tenders,
- shish kebab, salad, hot tea / coffee.
Entrance fee of 600 rubles per person (for food and gasoline - a gathering is not commercial, to hang himself). Writing to participate by telephone +7 (926) 579-2271 Oleg.
for individual money can go on the square, podriftit (500 rubles per 10 minutes)
Directions:
91 and 791 bus from the station. Kiev Metro to stop "Setunskaya Fortress»
View Larger Map
January 8 in 12-00 days, preglashaem everyone on motorcycles Morkovnikov, treat mototoksikoza from everyone!
Based School Stunt Master MotoPortal with Moto Quad Moto School holds barbecues with pokatushki the snow in the Urals with sidecars and pleasant conversations on topics moto;)
The program includes:
- 12-00 gathering guests,
- Test for suitability Professor,
- Pokatushki and Tenders,
- shish kebab, salad, hot tea / coffee.
Entrance fee of 600 rubles per person (for food and gasoline - a gathering is not commercial, to hang himself). Writing to participate by telephone +7 (926) 579-2271 Oleg.
for individual money can go on the square, podriftit (500 rubles per 10 minutes)
Directions:
91 and 791 bus from the station. Kiev Metro to stop "Setunskaya Fortress»
View Larger Map
Monday, December 13, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Imagesof Varicose Veins Of The Vulva
Holidays!
With 14 of this month I'm on vacation until the end of the year)), tyrnety will attend, but rarely requested all concerned to address affordable mobile communications)) If someone can not remember the number - write to remind))
8 or 9 January will be Moto skit with skiing in the Urals in the snow and barbecue, in nerezinovoy, as well as enjoyable intercourse and .... still a secret what "and";) all interested in kamenty:) well, or on a mobile phone))
With 14 of this month I'm on vacation until the end of the year)), tyrnety will attend, but rarely requested all concerned to address affordable mobile communications)) If someone can not remember the number - write to remind))
8 or 9 January will be Moto skit with skiing in the Urals in the snow and barbecue, in nerezinovoy, as well as enjoyable intercourse and .... still a secret what "and";) all interested in kamenty:) well, or on a mobile phone))
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Does Anyone Work For Disney In The Uk?
Fighting mototoksikozom
Saturday (November 20), despite the rainy weather and no heat outside the windows, I gathered motoekip and headed toward the Inspection. People meet me on the streets and subways with astonishment watched the young guy with a helmet Lazer attached to a backpack. Probably each of the two-wheelers had to see or hear, read and watched photos from this legendary motorcycle of Moscow. But today I had to learn a lot about those places and meet wonderful people not on the lookout, and not far from it.
Today I had an appointment with Anton Privalov, he invited me to visit the school Stunt Master in History and Culture Sports Complex "Setunsky Stan and try several of their vehicles. At the stop "Setunskaya fortress" I met Privalov and Stilyanov. From the first steps entourage database wizard strikes, even past the entrance to miss possible, on both sides of the entrance are two drawn against each other APC and layout of the camera hanging on the operator tap. From the very beginning you realize that you got to the heart of fairy tales, which usually see in movies: you can meet the most unusual items and technology - Nazi truck, the victim of the bombing, bus-staff «SCANIA», car "ZIL-Cross», «Maserati - biturbo», BTR - 40, BRDM, six-wheel Big Foot, "Big Foot - small "with a body Mercedes, Stunt Car Cadillac - Seville, two paired VAZ-2109 (" push-pull "), trike" Ural "motorcycle kartezhny "Ural" motorcycle BMW - R35 ... To list them all I'm not even able to, just there to visit!
And through this whole entourage we come to the garage, opened the Gates ... And behind them three quadric perpendicular cost of child poltinik, followed by 2 adults apparatus. On the question of Anton on what I want to ride of course I replied that better than anything weaker, to 50 cc I have not admitted, he was too small for me:) and proposed to start with ATV BASHAN ATV300S-18 ROAD SPORT
Quadro shod in road tires 10 radius, the cast wheels, armed with a 292 cubic 4-stroke single-barreled gun SOHC, forced air-cooling carnival with a maximum output of 22 hp at 7500 thousand revolutions. and robotic 4 - speed gearbox with reverse.
drive him back, the main transmission chain. By control and from the viewpoint of the driver is very similar to a motorcycle.
I even tried, in the heat, find the handle on the handlebar grip and twist the right knob, instead of that used to press the throttle;) BASHAN has a short base of 1850 mm in length and 1200 mm in width and 1175 mm in height. The front wheels have a link suspension with shock absorbers knapsack type.
rear axle is not split and a single central shock-absorber
All brake disc and tenacious enough for 235 kilogram apparatus.
And after examining the time to try that kind of beast. Anton gave me some instructions, and carefully watching my antics on site, warning against mistakes and giving advice on how to behave behind the wheel - thanks to his attention, I quickly settled into the saddle.
due to short based motion machine does not even listen steering and thought, to rebuild it can be instantaneous, it is like a real sports car leaps away from the easy movement hands, but this is deceptive ease of management, when you start turning on him understand that the unit likes to "ride on you" with a sharp laying in turn, even at a speed of 20 km / h failed to lift the rear outside wheel, while committing eight I realized that the phone and waiting for when I am relaxed hands and happily jumps on me. Despite the wet surface under the wheels of ATV is sure to keep the path and responsive to the brakes, although little has been seen demolition of the rear axle when you add gas to the rotation, but a sense of control is not lost and you realize that you can easily stabilize the unit. Though certainly did pass the test on-site and still wondering how does the machine on the road, but this kind of test to conduct is unfortunately not in season, so wait for the heat.
cheat on BASHANe and rolling it to the garage, I saw approaching to meet me quite Stilyanova driving «HSUN SUBARU» HS450ATV-2 4x2 , with whom I was to learn already on a special track.
This is a serious racing unit, although made in China, but is equipped with a single-cylinder engine from the SUBARU volume of 448 cubic centimeters, with a maximum capacity of 40 hp at 8000 rpm. Mikuni BSR carburetor 42 , which in combination with 5 valve engine adds playfulness quadrupole.
ATV Base with 1790 mm in length, 1100mm in width and 1150 mm height, height of seat 830 mm, and in conjunction with 250 mm ground clearance and aggressive tires and independent 2-linkage with spring-hydraulic shock absorbers front suspension and rear axle does not split. All of this set adds confidence that Blocks is ready to conquer off-road and adrenaline pokatushki on the track.
His father-in took place on the Cross a small road, on the occasion weather it is very slippery and moderately dirty, it's already Another element for such weather Blocks just what you need, in turn floats, gleefully throws you with mud and water from puddles and humming climbs on a trampoline with the desire to jump and break into a real race, even Silyanov could not resist jumping ability, and demonstrated the device and how he tends to unfold in a mud bath during cornering.
School Stunt Master offers everyone a ride on a quad, try their hand at piloting four-wheel technology, and if you like, then continue training under the guidance of an experienced instructor Tatashvili Alexei Ivanovich Stuntmen-1 category, trainer moto-tricks in the school stunt "Master" in 1998. Repeated medalist St. Petersburg and the region as well as various competitions on moto-cross in the class 500 kubov.Mastera sport of motocross.
To arrange trekdeya an ATV you can refer to Anton Privalov, tel. +7 (909) 967 1671.
Center is located in the center of Moscow and just get even by public transport. (91 and 791 bus from the station. Kievskaya metro stop "Setunskaya Fortress")
Just based on the Wizard, you can enroll in school stunt in the following areas:
- Initial - tricks training ( base course );
- Altitude - tryukovvaya training ;
- Shooting;
- Fundamentals of Directing;
- operator skill trick
And a lot more about what you can found at the site SK Master , here everyone can find it by heart, or even several.
I would like to express my gratitude to Anton Privalov and Stilyanovu, for the opportunity to ride on their technique, a very pleasant and informative meeting.
Oleg Winds
administrator MOTOportala
especially for you))
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Point Of Dual Sim Card
of stastusov comrades.
become an intellectual is very simple - just throw a bat out of the car, and instead put a beautiful metallic golf club
become an intellectual is very simple - just throw a bat out of the car, and instead put a beautiful metallic golf club
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Where Piercings Quezon City
Our MOTOportal opened
We announce the opening of our MOTOportala! Here you will find a forum, articles, news, discussions, and of course an online store with very interesting prices. Everything works and the catalog of products for motorcycles and motorcyclists starts filled! Hurry up - the prices just super, these you will not find anywhere else!
www.motoportal.su
For seed
We announce the opening of our MOTOportala! Here you will find a forum, articles, news, discussions, and of course an online store with very interesting prices. Everything works and the catalog of products for motorcycles and motorcyclists starts filled! Hurry up - the prices just super, these you will not find anywhere else! www.motoportal.su
For seed
 |  |  |
| W field SHARK S900 - 12000rub. | Helmet CABERG Konda - 8000rub. | Helmet UVEX Enduro Carbon - 18000rub. |
Friday, November 12, 2010
Difference Between Ic Flare And Infection
fear and hatred in the area. RF
today opened registration of domains in the zone. Russia and the leaders have emerged, such as yandeks.rf been redirected at yandex.ru, and gugl.rf on google.ru ...
scare another had already perished in many sites such as registrars hung hour http://www.webnames.ru/ , Wait a sort otvis.
And one more question, why huy.rf and zhopa.rf available for registration ((((
today opened registration of domains in the zone. Russia and the leaders have emerged, such as yandeks.rf been redirected at yandex.ru, and gugl.rf on google.ru ...
scare another had already perished in many sites such as registrars hung hour http://www.webnames.ru/ , Wait a sort otvis.
And one more question, why huy.rf and zhopa.rf available for registration ((((
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Sample Of Car Bill Of Salemalaysia
man Think!
Women - a creature who somehow want to have sex with here is so thick, hairy troll, which you see in the mirror every day.'s Would you like to have sex with him? There. And women want.
I would in your place, do not trust them.
From mail)
Women - a creature who somehow want to have sex with here is so thick, hairy troll, which you see in the mirror every day.'s Would you like to have sex with him? There. And women want.
I would in your place, do not trust them.
From mail)
Saturday, November 6, 2010
2010 Model Three Wheel Motorcycles
A life without images
Although the images around me proliferated in recent years in particular, mine are rare. I do not have this tendency most of my contemporaries to try everything to capture an image. The only time I do take pictures at family events occur or when I'm tired of seeing the same picture of me on Facebook and I decided to take a new through Photobooth. (I'll still need to show that his strawberry on Facebook!)
But why so many missed opportunities to capture it all in pictures, so that encourages me everything? I guess my lack of talent in this area has much to do (and my awareness of this lack of talent ...). And I'm not so photogenic. When you approach a camera on me I freeze, I stiffened. There is nothing to do. Yet everyday, I'm very expressive. The proximity of the target liquid stuff. Maybe I am like those primitive fear of being robbed of their souls? I do not know. Or perhaps I am unable to bring myself to this downtime required for installation? I have often mentioned my problem with time. I hate the time of installation. It is a times that I hate most in the world.
Perhaps - and this I believe the most likely hypothesis - I want to deny that anything is going to disappear? Or rather, perhaps I am so obsessed with the inevitability of death that I can see it through the act of photographing. Take a photo, do not you scream, all this will disappear quickly, immortalisons it!
Maybe finally - and this is the other most likely hypothesis - - is it is a statement that what happened I do, that my subjectivity, my perceptions, feelings and thoughts they inspire in me are more important to me that their objectivity and that no image could not return them?
Still, I rather regret that Amelia and I have taken so few photos over the last 5 or 6 years ... So few pictures of us, so few pictures of cats - when Badria almost died last year, I regretted so bitterly for not having taken a picture of her last two years - and so few pictures from this shared life to three for just under two years ...
In recent times our relationship as it once was, when I felt the end approaching, he told me: "It's been so long since we have not taken pictures of us! This should be taken soon. On hearing this sentence, I wanted to die. We took so few pictures of us, but it was too late. I do not want to immortalize the moment. It is the culmination need immortalize and it was too late.
I just told him: "Yes, yes ... "
Although the images around me proliferated in recent years in particular, mine are rare. I do not have this tendency most of my contemporaries to try everything to capture an image. The only time I do take pictures at family events occur or when I'm tired of seeing the same picture of me on Facebook and I decided to take a new through Photobooth. (I'll still need to show that his strawberry on Facebook!)
But why so many missed opportunities to capture it all in pictures, so that encourages me everything? I guess my lack of talent in this area has much to do (and my awareness of this lack of talent ...). And I'm not so photogenic. When you approach a camera on me I freeze, I stiffened. There is nothing to do. Yet everyday, I'm very expressive. The proximity of the target liquid stuff. Maybe I am like those primitive fear of being robbed of their souls? I do not know. Or perhaps I am unable to bring myself to this downtime required for installation? I have often mentioned my problem with time. I hate the time of installation. It is a times that I hate most in the world.
Perhaps - and this I believe the most likely hypothesis - I want to deny that anything is going to disappear? Or rather, perhaps I am so obsessed with the inevitability of death that I can see it through the act of photographing. Take a photo, do not you scream, all this will disappear quickly, immortalisons it!
Maybe finally - and this is the other most likely hypothesis - - is it is a statement that what happened I do, that my subjectivity, my perceptions, feelings and thoughts they inspire in me are more important to me that their objectivity and that no image could not return them?
Still, I rather regret that Amelia and I have taken so few photos over the last 5 or 6 years ... So few pictures of us, so few pictures of cats - when Badria almost died last year, I regretted so bitterly for not having taken a picture of her last two years - and so few pictures from this shared life to three for just under two years ...
In recent times our relationship as it once was, when I felt the end approaching, he told me: "It's been so long since we have not taken pictures of us! This should be taken soon. On hearing this sentence, I wanted to die. We took so few pictures of us, but it was too late. I do not want to immortalize the moment. It is the culmination need immortalize and it was too late.
I just told him: "Yes, yes ... "
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Stiff Back And Swollen Neck
Always already happened? Fuck off! In his time
I have often said, I hate, I loathe nostalgia. I am particularly disgusted by the glorification of adolescence as a blessed moment, idyllic, where they lived fully, where we do not fear to abandon himself to his passions, where they were searching for the infinite. Needless to say I am even more disgusted by the representation of adolescence as a period of genuine rebellion - probably, I will not deny, because I myself was so little rebellious in my teens. They are just devices to defuse anything that might later disrupt the social order or at least when these forces are not channeled into a political project, affect the performance of the optimal individual within the system.
Imagine that I spend a lot of time grumbling. These ideas are so commonly accepted that such evidence does not call into question
In this regard, I was reading a comic last night by Michel Rabagliati, Paul a summer job and Paul apartment. In recent weeks, I started reading comics passionately. Purely circumstantial. I wanted to read more comics for a while and then I was a little contact with analysis of BD and I thought, let's go merrily. I read some classics, including the magnificent Blankets by Craig Thompson , and I also decided to read all Paul . Rabagliati has a power evocative rarely equaled. He has a special gift to draw pictures and words and bring out those hand back instantly places and eras they represent, with a force of impressive accuracy. What is fascinating about Rabagliati is also his ability to represent the common experience. Paul is the average Quebecer. Unnecessary to resort to statistics, one need only read the comics Rabagliati. He has a deep sensitivity, intelligence and a sense of exceptional observation that allow it to teach us and show us so much that all these polls that claim to two under with great fanfare to give a portrait of Quebec.
And then, of course, the idea of adolescence as a period of the greatest excitement is present in Rabagliati, especially in Paul has a summer job and even more in the comparison can be done between Paul has a summer job and Paul apartment. I am often amazed or affected by reading Paul , but yesterday late Paul has a summer job and then chaining Paul apartment I in fine gun! After relating a story of teenage love, the narrator of Paul has a summer job wrote that the passion he had felt was unbeatable e and said point blank that this idea is shared by all people with whom he discussed teenage love. According to him at any other time after adolescence is it possible to live with such intensity the experience of love. In the following comics, Paul tells the story of his early relationship with the woman with whom he founded a family, he describes with affection and admiration, but without the enthusiasm that carries its evocations his summer love. I found it so sad ...
Paul is right: everyone agrees on this idea. It merely multiply my disgust. And also my grief ... How is it possible to be as resigned from her love life? "Once I experienced the great love, passion, and now it is no longer possible. And why would not it be? What prevents us if we do, how can we accept to live her life with anyone other than a person with whom we share a complicity absolute someone never ceases to amaze us, we admire, we always want to eat from head to toe, which makes us mad happy and mad with desire? How can we accept less than that? As well as live in the boredom and frustration, not only is it better to stay single? But of course, people are rarely able to live alone and, paradoxically, often reject the greatest opportunities to live a passionate love ...
so I do not want to be like them. My great love is not in the distant past. My great love is now, every day more passionate, strong and beautiful.
How could I accept being a couple otherwise? The truth is that I'm lucky. The truth however is that if people were not so cowardly and concerned about the opinions of others, they would only make matters of social status and money that undermine so often "adult dating" ...
I have often said, I hate, I loathe nostalgia. I am particularly disgusted by the glorification of adolescence as a blessed moment, idyllic, where they lived fully, where we do not fear to abandon himself to his passions, where they were searching for the infinite. Needless to say I am even more disgusted by the representation of adolescence as a period of genuine rebellion - probably, I will not deny, because I myself was so little rebellious in my teens. They are just devices to defuse anything that might later disrupt the social order or at least when these forces are not channeled into a political project, affect the performance of the optimal individual within the system.
Imagine that I spend a lot of time grumbling. These ideas are so commonly accepted that such evidence does not call into question
In this regard, I was reading a comic last night by Michel Rabagliati, Paul a summer job and Paul apartment. In recent weeks, I started reading comics passionately. Purely circumstantial. I wanted to read more comics for a while and then I was a little contact with analysis of BD and I thought, let's go merrily. I read some classics, including the magnificent Blankets by Craig Thompson , and I also decided to read all Paul . Rabagliati has a power evocative rarely equaled. He has a special gift to draw pictures and words and bring out those hand back instantly places and eras they represent, with a force of impressive accuracy. What is fascinating about Rabagliati is also his ability to represent the common experience. Paul is the average Quebecer. Unnecessary to resort to statistics, one need only read the comics Rabagliati. He has a deep sensitivity, intelligence and a sense of exceptional observation that allow it to teach us and show us so much that all these polls that claim to two under with great fanfare to give a portrait of Quebec.
And then, of course, the idea of adolescence as a period of the greatest excitement is present in Rabagliati, especially in Paul has a summer job and even more in the comparison can be done between Paul has a summer job and Paul apartment. I am often amazed or affected by reading Paul , but yesterday late Paul has a summer job and then chaining Paul apartment I in fine gun! After relating a story of teenage love, the narrator of Paul has a summer job wrote that the passion he had felt was unbeatable e and said point blank that this idea is shared by all people with whom he discussed teenage love. According to him at any other time after adolescence is it possible to live with such intensity the experience of love. In the following comics, Paul tells the story of his early relationship with the woman with whom he founded a family, he describes with affection and admiration, but without the enthusiasm that carries its evocations his summer love. I found it so sad ...
Paul is right: everyone agrees on this idea. It merely multiply my disgust. And also my grief ... How is it possible to be as resigned from her love life? "Once I experienced the great love, passion, and now it is no longer possible. And why would not it be? What prevents us if we do, how can we accept to live her life with anyone other than a person with whom we share a complicity absolute someone never ceases to amaze us, we admire, we always want to eat from head to toe, which makes us mad happy and mad with desire? How can we accept less than that? As well as live in the boredom and frustration, not only is it better to stay single? But of course, people are rarely able to live alone and, paradoxically, often reject the greatest opportunities to live a passionate love ...
so I do not want to be like them. My great love is not in the distant past. My great love is now, every day more passionate, strong and beautiful.
How could I accept being a couple otherwise? The truth is that I'm lucky. The truth however is that if people were not so cowardly and concerned about the opinions of others, they would only make matters of social status and money that undermine so often "adult dating" ...
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sims 2 For Mac Installing Instructions
Recipe
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mr_espozito at Recipe
Originally posted by
mr_espozito at Recipe Recipe cure ZhZhshnoy garbage.
And forget about ZhZhshnoy garbage.
Until something new is not perdumayut, but we like gritstsa treat.
And forget about ZhZhshnoy garbage.
Until something new is not perdumayut, but we like gritstsa treat.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Anti Freeze Soul Silver
Earlier, I was trying to get their hands on one of our French versions of Lovecraft and I came across this:
In reading this dedication, the Tears came to my eyes. I found a whole in this dedication that Amelia and I've fallen in love, this Amelia that I continued to love and continue through all its metamorphoses. Amelia was right in this so passionate, shy but ready to explode at any time to finally reveal to the world. We were still somewhat innocent then. I certainly do not regret not that lucidity which we won along the way but as I have been able to save my beloved some of the suffering that led us to the full discovery of reality.
When I Amelia knew she was very shy but no less passionate. During our first meetings, I though it was also very shy but that was one of the most sociable of my life, I was talking nonstop. Amelia spent much time listen, so full of restraint, but at times it was breaking, including when she spoke of her passion for science fiction and even more when she spoke of Lovecraft, his beloved Lovecraft , about which she told me everything. You will therefore understand the whole meaning for me that makes this dedication.
I have not read Lovecraft before finally this summer, just as Amelia did not read the book Nerval that I offered a little later. I feel a little bad, a little cheap but I know she understands, as I understand. We both know that each book comes in its time. That's why our libraries are full of books that we have not yet read. We know that their time will come. With regard to Lovecraft, it was for me this summer. I was not before it in the proper frame of mind to read it. This state, this was a wonderful "discovery". Perhaps at the time, as Amelia so aptly remarked, I was a little annoyed with what it means his awkwardness and his' side 'very', "although I would have forgiven, of course. But this summer, I was not annoyed, just delighted and impressed by all this intensity. I would not have been able to appreciate its true value before this summer, I think. So I'm glad I waited, in some way. I did not read elsewhere in this issue but rather in the original version because I think it's too stupid to read a translation of English. But I think I dive into the book Amelia gave me very soon. I've read several texts that are in English so I will not feel too bad.
I reread this dedication and I am shocked by this Amelie who seems so distant. But what is extraordinary is that I do not feel one ounce less in love than I was then. I know how it's cliché to say that, but it is no less true. I know what I mean those few people who say that their love is just growing every day. I experience continually. I watch Amelie writing in front of me and I feel more love than I was yesterday, even more than I was there last year and a lot more than I were at the beginning, even though we were already madly loving one another. I feel so privileged to have my little Amelie in my life ...
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Fotos Grandes Russian Bare
A soft light
I want to tell you about a the happiest girls in the world. Long ago I want to talk about because it's not every day you met one of the happiest people in the world and since I met her, I'm fascinated. And my fascination does not end. How is it possible that someone so happy there? And nice too, since it is also one of the nicest people in the world.
This girl is a co-worker of mine. I feel very privileged to know her. By his cheerfulness and kindness she is a light in our lives and a cure for cynicism in which we find it so easy to sink. None of us really no exception, except her. His joy and kindness, it offers everyone is an absolute mystery to me. We teach me it is the new Messiah that I would not be surprised! I can not understand that someone is so good and happy ... Despite what some people might think, there is not an ounce of innocence in her. She knows very well analyzed people. It simply goes to them without prejudice - as much as possible - offering them a full understanding of the world, even those who are far from friendly. I'm always surprised.
It is so bright. When in his presence, some elk carry me, when I put myself sometimes rebel against humanity, I feel a little sore. Yet she does not blame me. She does not blame anyone. Still, when I'm with him, I feel very dark comparison. I am a fairly dark, I know, but I often forget because I almost always shows a great kindness and sensitivity towards people. Simply, I am not without bias and even less understanding. I am an expert in harsh judgments, unforgiving.
It also makes me think of something that often comes when people I know relatively little talk about me, people that I I rubbed a little but with whom I've never had a discussion. According these people, I'd be a sweet person . Sweet? My God, if you knew ...
I want to tell you about a the happiest girls in the world. Long ago I want to talk about because it's not every day you met one of the happiest people in the world and since I met her, I'm fascinated. And my fascination does not end. How is it possible that someone so happy there? And nice too, since it is also one of the nicest people in the world.
This girl is a co-worker of mine. I feel very privileged to know her. By his cheerfulness and kindness she is a light in our lives and a cure for cynicism in which we find it so easy to sink. None of us really no exception, except her. His joy and kindness, it offers everyone is an absolute mystery to me. We teach me it is the new Messiah that I would not be surprised! I can not understand that someone is so good and happy ... Despite what some people might think, there is not an ounce of innocence in her. She knows very well analyzed people. It simply goes to them without prejudice - as much as possible - offering them a full understanding of the world, even those who are far from friendly. I'm always surprised.
It is so bright. When in his presence, some elk carry me, when I put myself sometimes rebel against humanity, I feel a little sore. Yet she does not blame me. She does not blame anyone. Still, when I'm with him, I feel very dark comparison. I am a fairly dark, I know, but I often forget because I almost always shows a great kindness and sensitivity towards people. Simply, I am not without bias and even less understanding. I am an expert in harsh judgments, unforgiving.
It also makes me think of something that often comes when people I know relatively little talk about me, people that I I rubbed a little but with whom I've never had a discussion. According these people, I'd be a sweet person . Sweet? My God, if you knew ...
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Gay Cruisy Areas In Mobile, Al
Last winter, I began a teaching certificate in college. After the shock of the obvious attempt of indoctrination blows of questionable data as "Students are not able to listen attentively to a teacher talk for more than 10 minutes!" - really? so little? Poor them! - I finally found some interesting points throughout the course and even to review just my view of the teacher. Among the changes that have affected my view of the teacher, there is one that is more important than all others. Long admired the teachers who seemed above all loving discipline, the literature here. I was fascinated by the teachers who put their discipline above everything and threw themselves into large flights without proper regard for their students, e , students who were never an audience among many others with whom there can be no real exchange. These teachers, however, were clearly not particularly concerned about their students. Teaching was the only way they found to talk about what interested them. The rest did not matter really. Personally, I do not mind. I did not ask myself this question for a long time, I never had any problems with the idea of loving someone who does not love me.
I do not deny that, for my part, I learned a lot of teachers like these. Yet today, I would not be able to tolerate this type of individuals. To be honest, they disgust me. The greatest passion of teachers should be teaching, their relationship with their students, as a true exchange. The others, those who do not have a real love for their students should have the decency to retire. But, of course, they will not. Teaching provides the conditions of existence far too enviable. No other profession would not allow them to have some contact with what interests them, their discipline, while enjoying such living conditions. There are some who do not even need to look at their discipline. Teacher is a good job. The pay is good and it allows you to enjoy a certain social status. What could they ask? Certainly, a new teacher is necessarily overload the first time he gives his lectures. But soon, one who wants to sit on its laurels has plenty of time to do it ... It happened often in recent weeks to find me the bus with teachers who were discussing a tone a little jaded and plaintive some of their conditions of work and I wanted to cry.
There is one category of teachers who disgusts me more than these, they are also often included. These are the ones that play on the net, either on their blogs or Facebook, the "pearl" of their students. You do not know what's pearls? It is these little phrases they found in the work that students are so deficient, null and absurd they are quick to disseminate around them because it makes them much good to tax the other fools, they feel so much better with them after that. Is back with the awkwardness of young people, really, if you find it cool ? There are plenty of reasons that can make you write at some point in your life something that looks silly out of context. Perhaps this matter is just not your thing, maybe you were flat on the day of your exam, maybe you have trouble ; lay some something interesting in 3 hours, maybe you're in trouble and that you work too much to meet your needs, maybe you're really lazy, maybe you bastards you of this matter, maybe you live anyway in a society that values do not think so, perhaps there nothing that says that you write a sentence as absurd but really, I scream out loud, it's not because someone writes at one point or another something a silly it makes you someone fundamentally stupid and that if adults need to laugh with all their buddies work or extracts from reviews of their students, by definition people who are still learning , to feel good about themselves, and recovered well, they should perhaps redirect their careers or hang themselves, because they are really fucking pathetic.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Panasonic Kx-a142es Delete Messages
Teachers Return of Fern
Ferdinand is back home! With two nice ladies who not only saw him but who, in addition, have helped us catch him!
I believe in humanity!
Photo of Ferdinand and myself in 2008:
:
Ferdinand is back home! With two nice ladies who not only saw him but who, in addition, have helped us catch him!
I believe in humanity!
Photo of Ferdinand and myself in 2008:
:
Dragonball Gt English Doujinshi
In headlong
There are people who spend all their free time surrounded by a multitude of individuals. I am not one of those. Although I cherish more than any intimate moments shared with my beloved, I love seeing people, we understand. Simply see a lot of people wonder energy, for reasons that are familiar to me and others who are unknown to me. I feel some anxiety when it comes time to find myself in a larger group, indeed. But beyond that, I think I'm affected more intensely by the people it is reasonable to be, affected by both their own e ; motions and I feel for them. A drama teacher told me several years ago as part of group exercises we were doing in class, I was a resonates is to say that I picked up and took me on all the energies and emotions around me. At first, I was perplexed, I was not sure if it was a compliment or a criticism - it was more likely a simple observation. Today, I take as a compliment, however, since the work of the writer is one of resonance. The writer must capture the world around it and return it in her writing. It seems to me that this is a gift I received, to have such a relationship to the world. Every donation against his party, of course. For one who receives the world with such impact force, contact with others is exhausting. Fortunately, I think I have a lot of energy in reserve ... I'm still enough space for my meetings do not run.
Perhaps for this reason, maybe because I'm still wild, perhaps by ; cowardice, perhaps out of laziness - or I still know that - I do not see enough people who are dear to me. During these encounters with loved ones, the same question appears: why, why do not I see this person more often? Maybe for his own salvation. I think I lost sight more friends because I exhausted ... The fact remains that not only do I not see enough loved ones, not only do I tend to refer constantly meeting people who I feel I could build a beautiful relationship but, in addition, I put a lot of time for answer my emails or to post those that I plan to write. Amelia had even written at the very beginning of our relationship, when we had barely acquainted, I took this time to answer him she had to Read up my blog to hear from me since I wrote much more smoothly on my blog that I wrote him to her. True enough. I could write a number of tickets before answering to one of her emails, not because I wanted there not, perhaps for the opposite reason, because my expectations were even higher in relation to it they were not compared to my blog. This is not because a letter has only one recipient does not need it as seriously as a text for an audience more or less extensive. For me, perhaps even the contrary ...
When I woke up this morning, I told myself that this time was too long and that I should write these emails that I wanted to write for a few days. So I embarked on this major undertaking. At sunrise, before lunch and drink coffee, so I started writing some of these emails. In the first of them, I sent to the beautiful and extraordinary veelan that, for your great loss to all, written exclusively for attention privileged few, I just share it with this reflection, tinged with disappointment to me and guilt toward others, for which I am so much involved. She said this wonderful thing that I can not remember to call, hoping that she will not mind, since it's just too good and it should be immortalized, even in this precarious form of the blog:
I never felt rushed to friendship: from the moment I like a friendly person, I know the feeling is permanent [...]. If I love you, forever, so I do not care do not see as often as he should.
I'd never thought so but I feel exactly like that in relation to friendship ...
Still, despite this sense of eternity authentic - because I love my friends forever actually - and unrealistic - since I do not know when death will carry one of the things that I are expensive, I will try to continue fighting against the permanent temptation of isolation. I will try this afternoon to write at least one of these letters are long overdue.
There are people who spend all their free time surrounded by a multitude of individuals. I am not one of those. Although I cherish more than any intimate moments shared with my beloved, I love seeing people, we understand. Simply see a lot of people wonder energy, for reasons that are familiar to me and others who are unknown to me. I feel some anxiety when it comes time to find myself in a larger group, indeed. But beyond that, I think I'm affected more intensely by the people it is reasonable to be, affected by both their own e ; motions and I feel for them. A drama teacher told me several years ago as part of group exercises we were doing in class, I was a resonates is to say that I picked up and took me on all the energies and emotions around me. At first, I was perplexed, I was not sure if it was a compliment or a criticism - it was more likely a simple observation. Today, I take as a compliment, however, since the work of the writer is one of resonance. The writer must capture the world around it and return it in her writing. It seems to me that this is a gift I received, to have such a relationship to the world. Every donation against his party, of course. For one who receives the world with such impact force, contact with others is exhausting. Fortunately, I think I have a lot of energy in reserve ... I'm still enough space for my meetings do not run.
Perhaps for this reason, maybe because I'm still wild, perhaps by ; cowardice, perhaps out of laziness - or I still know that - I do not see enough people who are dear to me. During these encounters with loved ones, the same question appears: why, why do not I see this person more often? Maybe for his own salvation. I think I lost sight more friends because I exhausted ... The fact remains that not only do I not see enough loved ones, not only do I tend to refer constantly meeting people who I feel I could build a beautiful relationship but, in addition, I put a lot of time for answer my emails or to post those that I plan to write. Amelia had even written at the very beginning of our relationship, when we had barely acquainted, I took this time to answer him she had to Read up my blog to hear from me since I wrote much more smoothly on my blog that I wrote him to her. True enough. I could write a number of tickets before answering to one of her emails, not because I wanted there not, perhaps for the opposite reason, because my expectations were even higher in relation to it they were not compared to my blog. This is not because a letter has only one recipient does not need it as seriously as a text for an audience more or less extensive. For me, perhaps even the contrary ...
When I woke up this morning, I told myself that this time was too long and that I should write these emails that I wanted to write for a few days. So I embarked on this major undertaking. At sunrise, before lunch and drink coffee, so I started writing some of these emails. In the first of them, I sent to the beautiful and extraordinary
veelan that, for your great loss to all, written exclusively for attention privileged few, I just share it with this reflection, tinged with disappointment to me and guilt toward others, for which I am so much involved. She said this wonderful thing that I can not remember to call, hoping that she will not mind, since it's just too good and it should be immortalized, even in this precarious form of the blog: I never felt rushed to friendship: from the moment I like a friendly person, I know the feeling is permanent [...]. If I love you, forever, so I do not care do not see as often as he should.
I'd never thought so but I feel exactly like that in relation to friendship ...
Still, despite this sense of eternity authentic - because I love my friends forever actually - and unrealistic - since I do not know when death will carry one of the things that I are expensive, I will try to continue fighting against the permanent temptation of isolation. I will try this afternoon to write at least one of these letters are long overdue.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Dubai Occupational Therapy Com
Vadim Stepantsov-get drunk in the morning TSDZH HD
Caution is not censorship!!))
Caution is not censorship!!))
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Evinrude 4hp Wont Go Into Gear
The best sandwich in the world
long ago that I wanted to tell the story of the best sandwich in the world. So here it is.
nearly 2 years ago, two or three weeks about, I was summoned to an interview at a college in a few hours drive from Montreal. I had just finished the writing my memory, very long and painful process, for reasons so little intrinsic truth, a process that was completed by one year nightmare several respects, and that concludes that several months after the filing of my memory. When the announcement came that interview, so I was torn between the feeling that it was too, until I could not miss this occasion and the feeling that I was so exhausted and so little ready to get away from my beloved yet it was impossible.
Driven by a sense of duty, I decided that I could not miss this opportunity and I embarked with Amelia in a car a few days later, with some luggage and books and a glaze re that we had bought for the occasion, filled with food prepared by my loving devotion. So the both excited by this adventure (it was our first road trip !), anxious and heart a little heavy - as if I were with my love, I left behind yet ; re someone dear to me already - we took the road north. While running, I reread the beating heart Next Episode which was to focus on the lesson I was preparing for this interview.
Our first stop was in a small inn, about midway in the corner of Mont-Laurier. It was in the middle of the woods, we had to take a dirt road to get there. We we lost along the way and called him, desperate at the hostel. After a few detours, we finally found our hostel. It was late and it was already very dark when we saw almost nothing of the place but when we entered our room I was amazed rustic-style . And also tortured because it was a perfect place to stay in love but I was already so exhausted by the road I saw how hard I re ussirais to continue to prepare for my interview tomorrow. Since he had yet, I climbed the ladder that led me to the mezzanine and settle there for work while Amelie slept and slept in our bed because so cute lead for several hours the next morning.
the middle of the night I collapsed, exhausted physically and morally. I would never be able to be ready, I decided at that time, wrongly and rightly, of course. I descended the ladder and joined Amelie in bed in tears, telling him that I would not go to the interview that I was incapable, I would never be ready, I was too tired. Convinced that I was seized by a moment of doubt, my beloved tells me that it no sense, I'd obviously ready, as I could, I'd done it thousands of times working far beyond my strength. I was reluctant, she began to gripe against me, convinced I was doing a scene and willing to pull myself together. I cried more than ever to prove my complete collapse. I realized that my love is truly exhausted, that I lacked confidence not just suddenly and she hugged me until I calmed down, then I say it would seek some thing in the car to prepare a snack. It was about three o'clock in the morning. Amelia returned with sandwiches she had prepared over the cooler. She had concocted with the nine grain bread from our bakery, ham, Boursin and arugula. We ate our sandwiches in our charming bed, wrapped in pink bedspread kitschy and charming at once. I was suddenly so well after this collapse. Not only my sandwich was really the most delicious I had eaten, he was the symbol of all the love and devotion of all my Amelia, capable of both love the hardest and love the most tender.
long ago that I wanted to tell the story of the best sandwich in the world. So here it is.
nearly 2 years ago, two or three weeks about, I was summoned to an interview at a college in a few hours drive from Montreal. I had just finished the writing my memory, very long and painful process, for reasons so little intrinsic truth, a process that was completed by one year nightmare several respects, and that concludes that several months after the filing of my memory. When the announcement came that interview, so I was torn between the feeling that it was too, until I could not miss this occasion and the feeling that I was so exhausted and so little ready to get away from my beloved yet it was impossible.
Driven by a sense of duty, I decided that I could not miss this opportunity and I embarked with Amelia in a car a few days later, with some luggage and books and a glaze re that we had bought for the occasion, filled with food prepared by my loving devotion. So the both excited by this adventure (it was our first road trip !), anxious and heart a little heavy - as if I were with my love, I left behind yet ; re someone dear to me already - we took the road north. While running, I reread the beating heart Next Episode which was to focus on the lesson I was preparing for this interview.
Our first stop was in a small inn, about midway in the corner of Mont-Laurier. It was in the middle of the woods, we had to take a dirt road to get there. We we lost along the way and called him, desperate at the hostel. After a few detours, we finally found our hostel. It was late and it was already very dark when we saw almost nothing of the place but when we entered our room I was amazed rustic-style . And also tortured because it was a perfect place to stay in love but I was already so exhausted by the road I saw how hard I re ussirais to continue to prepare for my interview tomorrow. Since he had yet, I climbed the ladder that led me to the mezzanine and settle there for work while Amelie slept and slept in our bed because so cute lead for several hours the next morning.
the middle of the night I collapsed, exhausted physically and morally. I would never be able to be ready, I decided at that time, wrongly and rightly, of course. I descended the ladder and joined Amelie in bed in tears, telling him that I would not go to the interview that I was incapable, I would never be ready, I was too tired. Convinced that I was seized by a moment of doubt, my beloved tells me that it no sense, I'd obviously ready, as I could, I'd done it thousands of times working far beyond my strength. I was reluctant, she began to gripe against me, convinced I was doing a scene and willing to pull myself together. I cried more than ever to prove my complete collapse. I realized that my love is truly exhausted, that I lacked confidence not just suddenly and she hugged me until I calmed down, then I say it would seek some thing in the car to prepare a snack. It was about three o'clock in the morning. Amelia returned with sandwiches she had prepared over the cooler. She had concocted with the nine grain bread from our bakery, ham, Boursin and arugula. We ate our sandwiches in our charming bed, wrapped in pink bedspread kitschy and charming at once. I was suddenly so well after this collapse. Not only my sandwich was really the most delicious I had eaten, he was the symbol of all the love and devotion of all my Amelia, capable of both love the hardest and love the most tender.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Nds Save File Pokemon Ranger
On the way back
Today as I walked from work to home, I decided not to listen to my music for quite a long hike. I did well.
*****
Made somewhere in the Village on Ste-Catherine, I heard a gay man recently became single share his feelings a friend on his cell:
"Oh, I am there! So good! I'm good! I do what I want with my time. I am accountable to anyone! "
Oh, is not it, that's the definition of happiness: having accountable to anyone. I have no one to worry that nobody cares about me, it will Calisse, everyone is happy! Wow!
The guy had that tone that means but it sure feels first and foremost motivated by a desire to convince - Not the speaker, of course, but himself. This tone tells everyone: look pathetic as trying to convince me! There was nothing authentic bachelor who, in turn, would never dream of it screaming in the street, who would be satisfied to such an extent that no thinking about it even. It was not the man he hoped to be, obviously.
I should dock type, at the pace the rest very nice, and he started: "Who do you wrong? "I decided to keep my thoughts to myself.
***** A little later, while I was crossing the overpass above the train station, I Cross another type, who also spoke on his cell: "Then there I told him: 'You, there, Fuck!" He added, as a commentary on his narrative "of Ostia tabarnac! "
At that point, I should respond to express my sympathy to his story: "Criss Fuck! "I also kept my thoughts to myself.
*****
The first guy I had crossed was so convinced of the omnipotence of language that was enough, would have said, he utters these words to it feels really good. The second type was so convinced of the impotence of language than he seemed not even need to use words.
Today as I walked from work to home, I decided not to listen to my music for quite a long hike. I did well.
*****
Made somewhere in the Village on Ste-Catherine, I heard a gay man recently became single share his feelings a friend on his cell:
"Oh, I am there! So good! I'm good! I do what I want with my time. I am accountable to anyone! "
Oh, is not it, that's the definition of happiness: having accountable to anyone. I have no one to worry that nobody cares about me, it will Calisse, everyone is happy! Wow!
The guy had that tone that means but it sure feels first and foremost motivated by a desire to convince - Not the speaker, of course, but himself. This tone tells everyone: look pathetic as trying to convince me! There was nothing authentic bachelor who, in turn, would never dream of it screaming in the street, who would be satisfied to such an extent that no thinking about it even. It was not the man he hoped to be, obviously.
I should dock type, at the pace the rest very nice, and he started: "Who do you wrong? "I decided to keep my thoughts to myself.
***** A little later, while I was crossing the overpass above the train station, I Cross another type, who also spoke on his cell: "Then there I told him: 'You, there, Fuck!" He added, as a commentary on his narrative "of Ostia tabarnac! "
At that point, I should respond to express my sympathy to his story: "Criss Fuck! "I also kept my thoughts to myself.
*****
The first guy I had crossed was so convinced of the omnipotence of language that was enough, would have said, he utters these words to it feels really good. The second type was so convinced of the impotence of language than he seemed not even need to use words.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Samantha38 G Scoreland
Over the Rainbow
few days ago, I gave myself up to nostalgia and regret inflection of voice that clearly fell silent. I am no less melancholy than the other day, I am perhaps even more, but it will go this time instead of a surge of joy!
I share my happiness, which many already share: read Patty O'Green !
Never have I read blog if perpetually charged! And colored (in every sense, of course)! And sensitive! Brilliant! Patty O'Green is one of my greatest joys on the net.
In one of his wonderful piece, my favorite Patty spoke of the happiness she felt great to cross lakes, no matter which, by swimming. It's like that! She did not faint of heart. Patty did all the intrepid comes into his head. Patty is the friend that I needed to have both when I was a young girl when I was this shy girl overprotected. Better late than never! I read it hoping to be contaminated by it.
One of the reasons why I love so much is that this text represents an opposition so perfect between Patty and me and it touches a very sensitive chord in me. When I was a kid I spent every day of summer hours in our above ground pool. One day when I was a teenager, I decided to put myself doing laps ... or should I say curves! I walked the circumference of our pool for 45 to 60 minutes, without worrying that a 18 foot above ground pool is not the best place to swim. I swam, looking at the trees behind the yard of my parents - the trees that lived in this small wooded area that I loved so much and now disappeared, giving way to houses of this new development ridiculously ugly and ridiculously expensive. I looked, I said, trees, dreaming that I was in a lake and strength to swim, I forgot where I was. In my head, I was so absorbed by the thought that it was to me as if I was there. I thought these people that I had heard that crossed long lake to swim and I told myself that someday I would do it too.
I have not yet crossed lakes. That's the difference between me and Patty Patty drunk through the lakes of the powerful sensation of be in a lake, it captures the reality head on, while that I continue to dream at all possible, dozing on the banks of the imagination.
still be able to finally admit that I dream about all the possibilities is not satisfactory and I feel myself a violent need to immerse myself in reality. I say this, but I know well and long, I'm faced with this sudden desire, this desire of matter. However, I oscillate between these two desires, without being able to satisfy neither the one nor the other. Like when I'm swimming in my imagination, I have come to need material, even when I enter the field with both hands I need my imagination to arrive at well feel what I saw. Too much material as it is not enough. In the immediate future, I feel nothing, I am dazzled. I need a remote for good living things.
Still, I am due to try to cross a lake! It is further necessary to learn to swim decently. I tried to take a swimming class last fall but I am loosely discouraged. I long to have to do lots of silly exercises before coming to swim properly and I could not afford to accelerate. My patience was not sufficient to compensate for my incompetence and I was feeling sorry and asked me: oh but why have I not earned swimming technique when I was very young? Now I know how to swim! Etc etc! But I'm learning to deal with my shortcomings, accept to run out of tips to make progress. That's how I finally bring myself to read English, overriding frustration of not understanding every word and accepting the impossibility to find each unknown word in the dictionary. Similarly, rather than discourage me and get back to my swimming technique bastard, I should devote myself to accept these laborious exercises which follow I will be able to learn to swim slowly.
Besides, I have a new goal! During one of my swimming lesson, I donned flippers and I was totally excited! I never expected to go so fast a distance from the water. Since I no longer dream only to cross the lakes but I also dream of exploring the depths thereof.
I'll start by learning to swim. In
few days ago, I gave myself up to nostalgia and regret inflection of voice that clearly fell silent. I am no less melancholy than the other day, I am perhaps even more, but it will go this time instead of a surge of joy!
I share my happiness, which many already share: read Patty O'Green !
Never have I read blog if perpetually charged! And colored (in every sense, of course)! And sensitive! Brilliant! Patty O'Green is one of my greatest joys on the net.
In one of his wonderful piece, my favorite Patty spoke of the happiness she felt great to cross lakes, no matter which, by swimming. It's like that! She did not faint of heart. Patty did all the intrepid comes into his head. Patty is the friend that I needed to have both when I was a young girl when I was this shy girl overprotected. Better late than never! I read it hoping to be contaminated by it.
One of the reasons why I love so much is that this text represents an opposition so perfect between Patty and me and it touches a very sensitive chord in me. When I was a kid I spent every day of summer hours in our above ground pool. One day when I was a teenager, I decided to put myself doing laps ... or should I say curves! I walked the circumference of our pool for 45 to 60 minutes, without worrying that a 18 foot above ground pool is not the best place to swim. I swam, looking at the trees behind the yard of my parents - the trees that lived in this small wooded area that I loved so much and now disappeared, giving way to houses of this new development ridiculously ugly and ridiculously expensive. I looked, I said, trees, dreaming that I was in a lake and strength to swim, I forgot where I was. In my head, I was so absorbed by the thought that it was to me as if I was there. I thought these people that I had heard that crossed long lake to swim and I told myself that someday I would do it too.
I have not yet crossed lakes. That's the difference between me and Patty Patty drunk through the lakes of the powerful sensation of be in a lake, it captures the reality head on, while that I continue to dream at all possible, dozing on the banks of the imagination.
still be able to finally admit that I dream about all the possibilities is not satisfactory and I feel myself a violent need to immerse myself in reality. I say this, but I know well and long, I'm faced with this sudden desire, this desire of matter. However, I oscillate between these two desires, without being able to satisfy neither the one nor the other. Like when I'm swimming in my imagination, I have come to need material, even when I enter the field with both hands I need my imagination to arrive at well feel what I saw. Too much material as it is not enough. In the immediate future, I feel nothing, I am dazzled. I need a remote for good living things.
Still, I am due to try to cross a lake! It is further necessary to learn to swim decently. I tried to take a swimming class last fall but I am loosely discouraged. I long to have to do lots of silly exercises before coming to swim properly and I could not afford to accelerate. My patience was not sufficient to compensate for my incompetence and I was feeling sorry and asked me: oh but why have I not earned swimming technique when I was very young? Now I know how to swim! Etc etc! But I'm learning to deal with my shortcomings, accept to run out of tips to make progress. That's how I finally bring myself to read English, overriding frustration of not understanding every word and accepting the impossibility to find each unknown word in the dictionary. Similarly, rather than discourage me and get back to my swimming technique bastard, I should devote myself to accept these laborious exercises which follow I will be able to learn to swim slowly.
Besides, I have a new goal! During one of my swimming lesson, I donned flippers and I was totally excited! I never expected to go so fast a distance from the water. Since I no longer dream only to cross the lakes but I also dream of exploring the depths thereof.
I'll start by learning to swim. In
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Is It Safe To Use A Sunbed Before Waxing
chains
chronic beautiful, like a column written by him alone, a typical chronic Foglieni, Pierre Foglia evoked today this annoying habit for people to buy books ; discounts at Costco and put it in direct relation to the closure of small bookstores, as this library Rimouski which we had managed to attach in a few lines. After reading the history of this library we dreamed of Rimouski in Rimouski to rush it and was shocked by the closure thereof.
But the trick - and it Foglia can imagine, I'm sure - is that there is probably not a reader or a reader of his columns which buys books at Costco. And if they do, it probably is aware that they should not. Foglia writes for a readership convinced in advance. Again, I repeat, he probably knows. I do not think that his intention is to educate its readers but to take this opportunity to defend the proposal, often back on the table for several years, imposing a single price. And I hope that repetition of this proposal will have echoes because it is the only possible solution in the current context, because people will not stop, whatever tell them to go buy books at a discount at Costco. And first, why would they? Why the fate of independent bookstores they would import it? How the fate of independent bookstores Is it attached to them? I have no answer to offer but I know that as long as we do not answer this question, we can not do anything.
What seems striking about this story to buy his books at Costco rather than in a library which does not speak Foglia, is the attachment of people to big chains, like Costco or Tim Horton. I think for many years in this attachment and it amazes me. If people are buying books at Costco rather in an independent bookshop, it's not just because it's cheaper but because Costco, like all channels, it is reassuring. Immense and completely impersonal but reassuring. In fact, I would abolish this "but". Impersonal and therefore reassuring. Reassuring because it's known, because it is familiar. Chains and the cultural industry, hand in hand, we have made entirely chilly, even hostile to what is unknown, foreign. We are terrified to get close to something we do not know by heart in advance, and much more, to confront us with something personal, human. So rather than go to a local restaurant, we go into a string, rather than going for a coffee in a nice little cafe, we go to Tim Horton (although this is not really cheaper, needless to say), rather than go eat a burger in a snack, we go to McDonald's (though it is a little different in some neighborhoods, Hochelaga-Maisonneuve as to where snacks are much more prevalent than chains), etc. etc.. Go to an independent coffee shop rather than a string, let alone in a small cafe is a bit like going to someone, someone willing to receive us at him. It is a promise for human contact. And that, well, it makes you uncomfortable these beings become so timid, so afraid to have contact through being conditioned , s to be kept far each other.
And if I say all this is of course because I know all that. I come from a family fearful, not just temperament, if somewhat, perhaps. But for me it's clearly an attribute of class against which I must constantly fight, especially since I am naturally shy. When I enter a new place in a small cafe, I always feel a little intimidated - why, I guess, I like to establish my household gods in some places personal certainly, but less to intimidate me strength to attend. I remember, for example, this spring have gone absolutely charming in a cafe on Mont Royal, east, Les Bois coffee or something like that. The woman working there this afternoon there seemed to be the owner or if one of the few employees of the place and she was so friendly and charismatic. Still, I was embarrassed to the point where I almost get out but we still remained and it was a wonderful moment, le café était délicieux et l'endroit adorable, « quoique » très très Plateau avec une petite crowd de genres d'intellos, journalistes et autres. Mais bref, mes vieux réflexes avaient failli me pousser hors de l'endroit. Ce que je n'ai pas fait, heureusement. J'ai eu l'impression de vivre une rencontre, à ce moment, sans avoir parlé vraiment avec la serveuse, ce qui se serait peut-être produit si j'y étais retournée à une ou deux reprises parce que les gens ont tendance à se souvenir de moi, Perhaps because of my appearance, perhaps because they find me weird, maybe because I'm a little charming, perhaps because of my crack teeth, I do not know. It's just like that ...
Finally, I find this very sad situation for me, and I do not see any solutions to it. Many people do manage to escape only by a certain snobbery (we hear, this attitude has nothing to urban and is miles away from the reality of hipsters!) or rejection their original environment. Having spent years living in the arch-familiar, they will launch headlong into the unknown. I do not know exactly how I lived. I only dream to see people escape this attitude that contributes to further alienate us from each other.
chronic beautiful, like a column written by him alone, a typical chronic Foglieni, Pierre Foglia evoked today this annoying habit for people to buy books ; discounts at Costco and put it in direct relation to the closure of small bookstores, as this library Rimouski which we had managed to attach in a few lines. After reading the history of this library we dreamed of Rimouski in Rimouski to rush it and was shocked by the closure thereof.
But the trick - and it Foglia can imagine, I'm sure - is that there is probably not a reader or a reader of his columns which buys books at Costco. And if they do, it probably is aware that they should not. Foglia writes for a readership convinced in advance. Again, I repeat, he probably knows. I do not think that his intention is to educate its readers but to take this opportunity to defend the proposal, often back on the table for several years, imposing a single price. And I hope that repetition of this proposal will have echoes because it is the only possible solution in the current context, because people will not stop, whatever tell them to go buy books at a discount at Costco. And first, why would they? Why the fate of independent bookstores they would import it? How the fate of independent bookstores Is it attached to them? I have no answer to offer but I know that as long as we do not answer this question, we can not do anything.
What seems striking about this story to buy his books at Costco rather than in a library which does not speak Foglia, is the attachment of people to big chains, like Costco or Tim Horton. I think for many years in this attachment and it amazes me. If people are buying books at Costco rather in an independent bookshop, it's not just because it's cheaper but because Costco, like all channels, it is reassuring. Immense and completely impersonal but reassuring. In fact, I would abolish this "but". Impersonal and therefore reassuring. Reassuring because it's known, because it is familiar. Chains and the cultural industry, hand in hand, we have made entirely chilly, even hostile to what is unknown, foreign. We are terrified to get close to something we do not know by heart in advance, and much more, to confront us with something personal, human. So rather than go to a local restaurant, we go into a string, rather than going for a coffee in a nice little cafe, we go to Tim Horton (although this is not really cheaper, needless to say), rather than go eat a burger in a snack, we go to McDonald's (though it is a little different in some neighborhoods, Hochelaga-Maisonneuve as to where snacks are much more prevalent than chains), etc. etc.. Go to an independent coffee shop rather than a string, let alone in a small cafe is a bit like going to someone, someone willing to receive us at him. It is a promise for human contact. And that, well, it makes you uncomfortable these beings become so timid, so afraid to have contact through being conditioned , s to be kept far each other.
And if I say all this is of course because I know all that. I come from a family fearful, not just temperament, if somewhat, perhaps. But for me it's clearly an attribute of class against which I must constantly fight, especially since I am naturally shy. When I enter a new place in a small cafe, I always feel a little intimidated - why, I guess, I like to establish my household gods in some places personal certainly, but less to intimidate me strength to attend. I remember, for example, this spring have gone absolutely charming in a cafe on Mont Royal, east, Les Bois coffee or something like that. The woman working there this afternoon there seemed to be the owner or if one of the few employees of the place and she was so friendly and charismatic. Still, I was embarrassed to the point where I almost get out but we still remained and it was a wonderful moment, le café était délicieux et l'endroit adorable, « quoique » très très Plateau avec une petite crowd de genres d'intellos, journalistes et autres. Mais bref, mes vieux réflexes avaient failli me pousser hors de l'endroit. Ce que je n'ai pas fait, heureusement. J'ai eu l'impression de vivre une rencontre, à ce moment, sans avoir parlé vraiment avec la serveuse, ce qui se serait peut-être produit si j'y étais retournée à une ou deux reprises parce que les gens ont tendance à se souvenir de moi, Perhaps because of my appearance, perhaps because they find me weird, maybe because I'm a little charming, perhaps because of my crack teeth, I do not know. It's just like that ...
Finally, I find this very sad situation for me, and I do not see any solutions to it. Many people do manage to escape only by a certain snobbery (we hear, this attitude has nothing to urban and is miles away from the reality of hipsters!) or rejection their original environment. Having spent years living in the arch-familiar, they will launch headlong into the unknown. I do not know exactly how I lived. I only dream to see people escape this attitude that contributes to further alienate us from each other.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Benchtop Power Supply
In the spirit of Ferdinand
Ferdinand, our big cat has been missing since yesterday. I do not know if he jumped from the balcony or is simply slipped while attempting a hundredth acrobatics. I would rather for the latter hypothesis because if he wanted to go exploring, it would long he would have done. Fortunately, there was no cat crashed down from the balcony ... It would seem that it is unharmed by his fall or break her.
When I woke up yesterday morning there was a long thin branch at the entrance door of my room, which is very surprising since a fairly large living room separates our the pulpit. This can be the wind that has brought to the room. It can therefore only be a cat. Would it Elstir or Badria we brought it to show us the downfall of Ferdinand? What gnaws my blood, I think I may have seen the famous industry before going to bed. I do not know, I was so tired. In such a case, it would mean that I could not observe the signs and if I had, I might have found Ferdinand immediately. Amelia said it was useless to think about such things. She is probably right.
So we polled our hometown last night looking in all the cars and searching as many potential hiding places. God knows they are many. There are so many streets, so many bushes, so below balconies. The amount of hiding places is infinite. Maybe he is now happily frolicking in the neighborhood, starting in sprints incredible, hunting mice, voles and unwary birds facing the ground. Perhaps too busy there to try to dominate other cats in the neighborhood. Fern is a thug , an alpha male, a massive big cat ... but oh so tender! When we start to wake up morning, he lies down on us and purr purrs its exceptionally to shake the earth. (Seriously, never have I heard so powerful purr!)
But not this morning, of course. I woke up an hour earlier than usual. I thought it was perhaps a sign that perhaps Ferdinand wait on the doorstep. Eyes barely open, so I descended the steps of our staircase that leads up to the front door, second floor. Ferdinand was pas là, bien sûr. (Bien sûr, puisque je ne raconterais pas l'histoire ainsi.)
Me voilà donc sur le balcon avant à la première heure, en train d'écrire tout en demeurant attentive aux potentiels cris stridents ferdinandiens qui pourraient percer la relative tranquillité du matin.
J'essaie d'imaginer où je me terrerais si j'étais Ferdinand. Je n'en sais foutrement rien. Ah si je pouvais apprendre ce qui se passe dans la tête de mes félins. Ça me fait penser à une passionnante émission de Radiolab I listened yesterday "Animal Minds" , where we pondered this mystery that constitutes the spirit of the animals. Perhaps I will come back later. Maybe not. There are elements so exciting, I do not want to steal punches!
The Fern:
Ferdinand, our big cat has been missing since yesterday. I do not know if he jumped from the balcony or is simply slipped while attempting a hundredth acrobatics. I would rather for the latter hypothesis because if he wanted to go exploring, it would long he would have done. Fortunately, there was no cat crashed down from the balcony ... It would seem that it is unharmed by his fall or break her.
When I woke up yesterday morning there was a long thin branch at the entrance door of my room, which is very surprising since a fairly large living room separates our the pulpit. This can be the wind that has brought to the room. It can therefore only be a cat. Would it Elstir or Badria we brought it to show us the downfall of Ferdinand? What gnaws my blood, I think I may have seen the famous industry before going to bed. I do not know, I was so tired. In such a case, it would mean that I could not observe the signs and if I had, I might have found Ferdinand immediately. Amelia said it was useless to think about such things. She is probably right.
So we polled our hometown last night looking in all the cars and searching as many potential hiding places. God knows they are many. There are so many streets, so many bushes, so below balconies. The amount of hiding places is infinite. Maybe he is now happily frolicking in the neighborhood, starting in sprints incredible, hunting mice, voles and unwary birds facing the ground. Perhaps too busy there to try to dominate other cats in the neighborhood. Fern is a thug , an alpha male, a massive big cat ... but oh so tender! When we start to wake up morning, he lies down on us and purr purrs its exceptionally to shake the earth. (Seriously, never have I heard so powerful purr!)
But not this morning, of course. I woke up an hour earlier than usual. I thought it was perhaps a sign that perhaps Ferdinand wait on the doorstep. Eyes barely open, so I descended the steps of our staircase that leads up to the front door, second floor. Ferdinand was pas là, bien sûr. (Bien sûr, puisque je ne raconterais pas l'histoire ainsi.)
Me voilà donc sur le balcon avant à la première heure, en train d'écrire tout en demeurant attentive aux potentiels cris stridents ferdinandiens qui pourraient percer la relative tranquillité du matin.
J'essaie d'imaginer où je me terrerais si j'étais Ferdinand. Je n'en sais foutrement rien. Ah si je pouvais apprendre ce qui se passe dans la tête de mes félins. Ça me fait penser à une passionnante émission de Radiolab I listened yesterday "Animal Minds" , where we pondered this mystery that constitutes the spirit of the animals. Perhaps I will come back later. Maybe not. There are elements so exciting, I do not want to steal punches!
The Fern:
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Extension Arm, Camera, Table Clamp
The initial shape
Some time ago, by a curious combination of circumstances - not so strange that this, indeed, was as part of my job - I had to read an article on leadership . The article studied the characteristics shared by the leader . Among the features are common to them, it was noted among other resilience (the famous resilience), and their ambitions beyond the simple happiness marital or family.
Judging by these characteristics, I am as well give up now at leadership !
remember that resilience is defined as the ability of a material to resume its original shape. But why live if we must give up going after our inner turmoil, on behalf of an ambition which is often, in fact, deeply trivial. If personal happiness is rejected by these people out of hand, it is for me the financial success that seems like the most ordinary thing in the world.
The problem is that these people can not even conceive that some people do not share their vision. This is so obvious to them. It could not be otherwise.
So I attracted any time within a certain contempt for the private company by refusing to register within this system of values, unique value in done. It might be time you wonder what I think when I say that I agree with the idea that the individual who is dominating who agrees to put in below others. At the difference that, unlike them, my ambition is not to dominate but just to escape their domination.
I think suddenly scornful comment that I once heard from a leader about a person who was absent due to die and such of his pet. For this person, this was clearly the most stupid thing ever. Yep, life is awfully made. There are people who leave to mourn their pets, while others might prefer, if they could avoid missing a single workday to go to the funeral of one of its parents. It is necessary that the world is balanced ...
Some time ago, by a curious combination of circumstances - not so strange that this, indeed, was as part of my job - I had to read an article on leadership . The article studied the characteristics shared by the leader . Among the features are common to them, it was noted among other resilience (the famous resilience), and their ambitions beyond the simple happiness marital or family.
Judging by these characteristics, I am as well give up now at leadership !
remember that resilience is defined as the ability of a material to resume its original shape. But why live if we must give up going after our inner turmoil, on behalf of an ambition which is often, in fact, deeply trivial. If personal happiness is rejected by these people out of hand, it is for me the financial success that seems like the most ordinary thing in the world.
The problem is that these people can not even conceive that some people do not share their vision. This is so obvious to them. It could not be otherwise.
So I attracted any time within a certain contempt for the private company by refusing to register within this system of values, unique value in done. It might be time you wonder what I think when I say that I agree with the idea that the individual who is dominating who agrees to put in below others. At the difference that, unlike them, my ambition is not to dominate but just to escape their domination.
I think suddenly scornful comment that I once heard from a leader about a person who was absent due to die and such of his pet. For this person, this was clearly the most stupid thing ever. Yep, life is awfully made. There are people who leave to mourn their pets, while others might prefer, if they could avoid missing a single workday to go to the funeral of one of its parents. It is necessary that the world is balanced ...
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Kraftmaid Outlet Blog2010
Voices
I loathe nostalgia. This does not prevent me from abandoning myself in the next lines.
Let's go then. I regret (bitterly?) Blogs before that time the letter.
Amelia and I were talking a few days ago, what a wonderful time it was this time when Live Journal (Journal of Dead and his brother) was overflowing with unique voices. It was the time where the blog was practiced in some underground, which was proudly wore the nickname, which the blog was either unknown or despised. It was the heyday of the blogosphere before the only project where all these people was to make their voices heard, without having in mind the kind already marked, without writing keeping in mind standards - quite ugly, moreover, admit it! Was when people who do not often write wrote - wrote as one throws a bottle into the sea without even knowing if they would read or to the attention of some minds that circulated in the underground environment.
At that time, I had the opportunity to read people who write an impressive and exciting ideas to explore, people who had a pen oh how much more integrated ; esting that some blogs oriented literary today. (This is also not surprising since I have seen over the years that it is often when people try to make literature they fail, their prisoners die ; Conference with respect to the literature, whereas when they think of writing more mundane things they produce something truly literary.) I miss terribly texts these people so intelligent and sensitive texts from people who should no longer write or write so little. Among those who stopped to be heard, I think unfortunate at herezy at lesamoursmortes (aka naivete) to nasturtiums and many others. There are some strong (s) but these write exclusively (or almost) in private
... I know that many of these voices will never be heard and immerse myself in this situation very sad.
There are many blogs literature students or other university that I love deeply but these have another opportunity to write. And several literary blog is just a stopgap until a project to publish, not a key project ...
As for all those others, so numerous that embark on the blog today, they are faced with a design if defined and often insignificant blog that there is little chance that they manage to produce something really personal. What a shame.
I loathe nostalgia. This does not prevent me from abandoning myself in the next lines.
Let's go then. I regret (bitterly?) Blogs before that time the letter.
Amelia and I were talking a few days ago, what a wonderful time it was this time when Live Journal (Journal of Dead and his brother) was overflowing with unique voices. It was the time where the blog was practiced in some underground, which was proudly wore the nickname, which the blog was either unknown or despised. It was the heyday of the blogosphere before the only project where all these people was to make their voices heard, without having in mind the kind already marked, without writing keeping in mind standards - quite ugly, moreover, admit it! Was when people who do not often write wrote - wrote as one throws a bottle into the sea without even knowing if they would read or to the attention of some minds that circulated in the underground environment.
At that time, I had the opportunity to read people who write an impressive and exciting ideas to explore, people who had a pen oh how much more integrated ; esting that some blogs oriented literary today. (This is also not surprising since I have seen over the years that it is often when people try to make literature they fail, their prisoners die ; Conference with respect to the literature, whereas when they think of writing more mundane things they produce something truly literary.) I miss terribly texts these people so intelligent and sensitive texts from people who should no longer write or write so little. Among those who stopped to be heard, I think
unfortunate at herezy at lesamoursmortes (aka naivete) to nasturtiums and many others. There are some strong (s) but these write exclusively (or almost) in private ... I know that many of these voices will never be heard and immerse myself in this situation very sad.
There are many blogs literature students or other university that I love deeply but these have another opportunity to write. And several literary blog is just a stopgap until a project to publish, not a key project ...
As for all those others, so numerous that embark on the blog today, they are faced with a design if defined and often insignificant blog that there is little chance that they manage to produce something really personal. What a shame.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Spectrobes Action Replay
A mock intellectual life
When I entered the workforce full time, driven by the mental exhaustion and physical necessity, I quickly realized that I gave - at least momentarily - to devote my life to the intellectual life, analysis of world literature. In short, what was most essential to my life, except love. I thought however that I find time, I find energy to do this while having no. Maybe I thought and the courage to continue. Maybe I really thought there. I do not know.
During these months, I spent a lot of time crying this intellectual life reduced to nothing. Lttéralement cried, I mean. Amelia and Louito devoted, in turn, a lot of time trying to keep me out of this despair in which I could only drift. Then, I do not know why or how I stopped crying. Not resignation, but out of habit, I guess. Thus most people give to life. The difference is that I knew, I always knew that I still know that, within the scope of an incredible opportunity, I would find this sooner or later intellectual life. Together, Amelie and I will. That's all I know.
Still, that has emerged so far with me with more and more strength the idea that it is not really possible for the intellectual life outside the university and institutions, I have managed to an ad hoc basis, especially under the incentive of Amelia. Then, during my teaching - which have nothing intellectual, though they have other qualities more pragmatic, say - and started me engrossed to the point where I became this woman fixed on its objectives, including that of bringing to regain its intellectual life. Fixed entirely on its objectives and therefore have little time for reflection, which may have been useful in my case, who knows.
My summer ended, I began to breathe a bit, then vacuum again struck me during my days at the office. While I was back to more administrative tasks, that is to say (as part of my duties, at least) that do not require much reflection, which are, frankly, fairly mechanical, I had the idea of intellectually stimulate me a bit by listening to podcasts while laboring. I asked my contacts on Facebook and was lucky to discover them through a few jewels of podcasts, as Radiolab , podcast science exciting and very funny and This American Life, a literary podcast really nice but much more difficult to listen without devoting his attention.
Listening to these podcasts I felt a little revived even devoted myself to activities most mechanical and I told myself that being a curious person was one of the greatest graces and one the only ways to live happy, live really. I blessed the idea came to me, especially listening to an episode of Radiolab, "Strangers in the mirror" an absolutely fascinating conference with a neuroscientist and an artist with a strange evil, face blindbess, that ensures they can not recognize faces. Tragic condition! And yet, listening to this broadcast, I could not help but marvel. As life is amazing and worthwhile!
I managed to spend my days in some enthusiasm until assailed the ide e: but it is a travesty of intellectual life that suddenly I found! Is not this worse than having no intellectual life at all?
I procrastinated with this idea for some time and I'm diving in broadcasts of the CBC allowing me to keep abreast of cultural events (well, what takes place ), but generally insignificant emissions nice that I finally got tired.
And then, last week, I told myself to take everything a simulacrum of intellectual life is better for my survival, to a total lack of intellectual life between 9 and 5 and I started to listen passionately The mocking evil , a broadcast on France Inter, which allows me to indulge my taste for the macabre, my passion for horror and even meet some curiosity "intellectual" because the trivia there with the most fundamentally terrifying events of history. Since last week, so they are mocking The evil that just give a little life to my days. And Brett Easton Ellis cheers my evenings and weekends, but I'll talk another time.
When I entered the workforce full time, driven by the mental exhaustion and physical necessity, I quickly realized that I gave - at least momentarily - to devote my life to the intellectual life, analysis of world literature. In short, what was most essential to my life, except love. I thought however that I find time, I find energy to do this while having no. Maybe I thought and the courage to continue. Maybe I really thought there. I do not know.
During these months, I spent a lot of time crying this intellectual life reduced to nothing. Lttéralement cried, I mean. Amelia and Louito devoted, in turn, a lot of time trying to keep me out of this despair in which I could only drift. Then, I do not know why or how I stopped crying. Not resignation, but out of habit, I guess. Thus most people give to life. The difference is that I knew, I always knew that I still know that, within the scope of an incredible opportunity, I would find this sooner or later intellectual life. Together, Amelie and I will. That's all I know.
Still, that has emerged so far with me with more and more strength the idea that it is not really possible for the intellectual life outside the university and institutions, I have managed to an ad hoc basis, especially under the incentive of Amelia. Then, during my teaching - which have nothing intellectual, though they have other qualities more pragmatic, say - and started me engrossed to the point where I became this woman fixed on its objectives, including that of bringing to regain its intellectual life. Fixed entirely on its objectives and therefore have little time for reflection, which may have been useful in my case, who knows.
My summer ended, I began to breathe a bit, then vacuum again struck me during my days at the office. While I was back to more administrative tasks, that is to say (as part of my duties, at least) that do not require much reflection, which are, frankly, fairly mechanical, I had the idea of intellectually stimulate me a bit by listening to podcasts while laboring. I asked my contacts on Facebook and was lucky to discover them through a few jewels of podcasts, as Radiolab , podcast science exciting and very funny and This American Life, a literary podcast really nice but much more difficult to listen without devoting his attention.
Listening to these podcasts I felt a little revived even devoted myself to activities most mechanical and I told myself that being a curious person was one of the greatest graces and one the only ways to live happy, live really. I blessed the idea came to me, especially listening to an episode of Radiolab, "Strangers in the mirror" an absolutely fascinating conference with a neuroscientist and an artist with a strange evil, face blindbess, that ensures they can not recognize faces. Tragic condition! And yet, listening to this broadcast, I could not help but marvel. As life is amazing and worthwhile!
I managed to spend my days in some enthusiasm until assailed the ide e: but it is a travesty of intellectual life that suddenly I found! Is not this worse than having no intellectual life at all?
I procrastinated with this idea for some time and I'm diving in broadcasts of the CBC allowing me to keep abreast of cultural events (well, what takes place ), but generally insignificant emissions nice that I finally got tired.
And then, last week, I told myself to take everything a simulacrum of intellectual life is better for my survival, to a total lack of intellectual life between 9 and 5 and I started to listen passionately The mocking evil , a broadcast on France Inter, which allows me to indulge my taste for the macabre, my passion for horror and even meet some curiosity "intellectual" because the trivia there with the most fundamentally terrifying events of history. Since last week, so they are mocking The evil that just give a little life to my days. And Brett Easton Ellis cheers my evenings and weekends, but I'll talk another time.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Biodiesel Bus Converter India
Duration
I have not seen the weekend pass. How horrible.
There are people who aspire to that, do not see pass their free time, which multiply the movement not to feel for a moment the flow of time. For me, it's the worst thing. I need enough vacuum to feel good this time. So when my evenings and my weekends are too full - my days I do not speak, they are not mine - and choking despair.
This is not that I did not like devote my weekend to repaint our space, Amelie and I liked that I did not fill our walls these colors we want so long and that make me so happy. In truth, I've enjoyed it immensely. I love losing myself in some things, like painting trim. I like to devote myself to contemplation at the most inappropriate. One of the only ways I found to escape momentarily the world that disgusts me In many ways, to ensure my own survival, is to take as much time as I can take - and even more. Why not deserve a molding it not all respects? I therefore gave him my full attention, as if it were the single most important thing in the world, failing to offer him a talent that I have, alas, no.
You suspect that I was not alone to get their hands dirty! It takes a long time, or other people more effective, or others who have less inclination for contemplation, or other people who do not have the luxury of contemplation, so that work progresses ...
I have not seen the weekend pass. How horrible.
There are people who aspire to that, do not see pass their free time, which multiply the movement not to feel for a moment the flow of time. For me, it's the worst thing. I need enough vacuum to feel good this time. So when my evenings and my weekends are too full - my days I do not speak, they are not mine - and choking despair.
This is not that I did not like devote my weekend to repaint our space, Amelie and I liked that I did not fill our walls these colors we want so long and that make me so happy. In truth, I've enjoyed it immensely. I love losing myself in some things, like painting trim. I like to devote myself to contemplation at the most inappropriate. One of the only ways I found to escape momentarily the world that disgusts me In many ways, to ensure my own survival, is to take as much time as I can take - and even more. Why not deserve a molding it not all respects? I therefore gave him my full attention, as if it were the single most important thing in the world, failing to offer him a talent that I have, alas, no.
You suspect that I was not alone to get their hands dirty! It takes a long time, or other people more effective, or others who have less inclination for contemplation, or other people who do not have the luxury of contemplation, so that work progresses ...
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