Edu Science Reflector 600x Telescope

Another way, another

Another year goes by, a cycle , disappearances, newcomers, events, fears, laughter, tears, hopes shattered, grieving sentences, beliefs broken, stories created, others destroyed, roads crossed paths crossed, cities transformed a changing world.

This season, I saw my hand with a bitter taste that makes my task legendary optimism, optimism sometimes disturbing words of one friend, people do not like those who see life differently but this vision is not as clear in these times, is not as pink as smooth and clear, especially when it is a start, and starting in oneself is a loss, calamity, a lack that will never be filled.

This year has been mouthful of departures, many thousands of old, as they are calls in other languages, these old people who enrich the world with their presence, and when these storytellers, these witnesses of past go, you feel the blow oneself older, a little more helpless, more vulnerable, can no longer rely on the advice of those who have learned to face the destiny and live with.

this year had also witnessed another kind of farewell, when it leaves people with whom we shared a long life, which saw more than his family, we knew secrets, who was appeased pain, relieving suffering, and with whom we have laughed in bursts because life wants follows a different path, we changed course, and then each reunion revives memories, anecdotes, snippets of life properly shared.

And as is customary, because now it is a custom, another type of departure is necessary for itself, people in whom you bet all your confidence with which you are building sandcastles, and have gone much faster, even before his imaginary castles will take shape in the head, and you tell me the better, but who knows in the end ... I saw

love we thought indestructible and melt s' fly in the twinkling of an eye, suddenly it makes you reconsider your idea this whole concept, would it be imaginary? Should we believe it has made its way and it is part of an era that no longer exists? Should we store it in a drawer at the back of his head?
In this year I met several new people, new ways of thinking, seeing things, I saw people lost sight of, and I appreciated the surprise to discover that they are not the same , they bring you a new vision of them, but the memory related to you some time is still there, suddenly you feel closer.

I decided to bury my watercolor vision of life without compromising my colors, and then yes I can not stop believing that the property exists in this world, even receiving nothing, nothing to win, there will always help, give, there will always be those who're essential for other , which in a few moments you can illuminate their world, with simple strokes, you can make them still believe in the beauty of life, a life made beautiful by, but there is this mist that the striker, a mist that will eventually dissipate, maybe.

But my dreams with open eyes to persist, and I'm sure I'm not the only one to share them, inspires me to always believe, to cling to positivism, to mock derision of fate to smile no matter the circumstances and substitute, because life would not it finally a sequence of substitutions, we bury it hurts us, we replace by the rich, it's better than staying inert and watch others move forward and meet at the end tt alone.

This year I find myself clinging to my imaginary scale, yet, I have mounted the stairs, I saw the gap may be far, I said good because I can still see the blur, but hope is there.
I want to tell my family and my friends I love you, we tell them enough, I would also like to thank these virtual characters notes are now part of everyday life, with whom we interact and we send each other and this imaginary kiss, without seeing them, feel them, touch them, something she never believed could happen, new means of communication we are faced with extraordinary characters that may be the screen hides their flaws but the moment of conversation and sharing a few moments make them very valuable.

For next year I expect a lot of newcomers, many small things that will come into the world and that I already know without them, I expect that God grants wishes, my wishes, yours, and those who are most in need, and then to all the walls that exist, that apart, that separate and document the cruelty of men disappear.

2010 is year round, may-be such as generous, loving and tender as it looks, I wish you all a Happy New Year.

Changing Wet Goodnites

prohibited

is when the snow crunches under our feet, when the lights the daily flood our city as we strive to not see redundant. There by the land so exhilarating time of year? My mind is like a slight tendency to m'éprend banter. Silent nights, hot wine, sanctity of the stars; tournoyons together and in unison we now enchant the gifts. The reality is born the dream. The dream is fantasy.

When the snow settles, romance weary. Reminiscences of slippery sidewalks on which I had to hold up the walls ... And kisses winter give birth in the streets, they leave me cold. The heart is a drum that goes out, and moaning. Exhale the smoke mingles with the steam I am. How funny, do not you think? Being there comes, by the darkened streets of my small intestine, find me in this infernal city as a prisoner of an endless labyrinth. A Jekyll into Hyde, two minds in one body diverge. And I try, I'm struggling against that? against what? Why? Mary, I'm afraid ... I mean Children sing, listen to their jingle bell angels: so many sounds are in me further echoes the cry and ice from the last tear. I'll pass this

first Christmas of our lives to the order of things, since it must be. I'll go drink our love infirm. This is when the snow crunches under my feet, pile up in a wave that comes back to me deleterious condition of my cage of ivory. The best show and offered to place under my eyes from alienated spectator, life embraces the fall, but I think the winter, my life, I imagine, must have some banned Christmas, far from this dead city far from everything, far from here. And far from me.

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles

2d Driving Simulator Online 2010

The meeting


fragrance smell spirits soared
diverted

Soul Senses awake drunk

A shadow
Sweet disorder
Quiet, slow, sober
Leaver suspicion of a cave

Looking
Discreet hidden
Fast, intimidated
Then piercing determined

A smile
Happiness, joy, ecstasy
Round of love, emotion
Spring in winter dish

not
A Light in the early, uncertain Then
safe, accurate , feline

The meeting
Unexpected, undetected
came when we waited longer for his fallen
Abandoned
Farewell Farewell

And welcome to
moments when I did leave more eye

Hairstyle For Grecian Dress

7élma

N9oulou dima haka Alech él7élma s3iba
Tohréb email wé7éd ki tirét élkhotifa
N7obbouha to93od, tonfor ménna
N7ébouha tashar, tohrob 3alina

Aléch enti hakka yé dénya s3iba
T9ayém mél noum élli 7yétou kémla té3éb
Té7érm mén ghamthét él3in élté3éss
Ou taséhér ala ra7ét akél taghi
éli 3aféss fik,fi rou7ou ou fi 3bédék

aléch wé7éd ménhom i7al 3inih khayéf
mé ya3réfchi kén béch ikamél nharou
mé ya3réfchi chnoua ékhrét 7alou
yokhroj khater el d9ayé9 lézémha tét3adda
ya3adi youmou khatér yélzém youfa, barka yét3adda

aléch nhar kémél nésm3ou Kén faddit
9la9t, mé 3andi mé na3mal, 3ayiit
Nraou fiha ka7la ou hiya 3ala kol loun yé krima
Wé9fin ou n7ébouha tji li idina
nbéghthouha wa9télli mé ta3tina

aléch mé nésn3ouch 7lémtna bi idina
mé némchiwélhéch bsé9ina
mé n7élouléhéch bibénna
kolna na3rfou élli 7lmét 3morna, s3iba
amma Téstanna fina
7atta lwa9téch no93dou mkatfin idina

On dit toujours que le rêve est difficile
Suit l’envol d’une hirondelle
away when he still wants
asleep when you want it wakes

why are you so hard, you wake up in the life

poor helpless you can not sleep the dizzy
you watch over Rest of the oppressor
who take thee, thou and thy children t'opprime

why one of them opens his eyes with fear
do not know if its day eventually
knows what his day will
fate because the minutes must pass
day must end at some point

why we keep hearing I'm sick I'm bored
, I feel the void, I do not know or I'll
we believe it is black when all colors
we 'stop and she would only find his way
the mistake when she tries to fill us

why do not we build our dream
even we do not seek him
do not open our doors
each of us knows that somewhere, waiting for his dream
but for how long it will wait without moving

Kates Playground Oface

she who inspired me Alice and Alzheimer's may your soul rest in peace. For me it

You have left us in your sleep, nobody told you goodbye, but we felt you left, we saw something odd lapping without knowing what it is .. we knew a haze caused by million makeshift barbecue that day ... but no! the mist hid something, this is a start, your departure.

93 years during which you lived a life full of events, changes, 6 children, 12 grandchildren, several departures, also came, then the disease, Alzheimer's you got caught, and this is how you started to call your mother, part too, is a long long time.

"Where are you my mother, I do not know what to do?" is that you forgot how to cook your meals ptits good, you're lost when you t'évadais from home several times, you forgot your ptits children, and I would sometimes play at that you and taste your sweetness.

You wonder every time I was, I answered that my father was the friend of your son gone too, and you answered with the same response, even for several years, but you do not like him, and it made me smile every time.

You're gone, your expected departure is bitter, very bitter, we thought that with the lucidity thee back this week, you'll dare to confront the destructive memories, Alzheimer's, do you also remember everything we had to do the day of Eid, you jump at every step and you will manifest yourself to us to come to your bedside, you dared even some ironic replicas sent to your little girl, "no you're not my girl you, you are black skin, all my children are white as snow me!" And unfortunately, nobody has inherited the color of your eyes azure, your looks, your outspoken ... I smiled on hearing your comments and prickly I kissed your forehead as I liked to to not knowing what would be the kiss last kiss that I give you.

Farewell wassla loved so much as call you a lil piece of very strong woman, who lived a century and what a century but this disease traitor, has Alzheimer's caught up to make it back, then back off and give way to a monster even more cruel, even harder than the disease, which was washed away and unfortunately nobody can resist him.

Your departure is not sad, it is very light, you got it buried this evening, the day of your death, and it is a page that closes behind a stage in life, you left sad but not break the habit, undresses this corner we thought eternal farewell of bitter so bitter, farewell .. we loved you well .. soon ..

her who I was inspired Alice and Alzheimer's, I miss you already, your place is really irreplaceable, may your soul rest in peace.

Pokemon Mobile Game For Nokia N70

My Turn, turn, turn ...

Nobody knows. How to watch a sunset, I thought, if our eyes can not see beyond? Why bury the rubble of lives by impersonal when we exist?

Nobody knows. Blessed are those who claim it. Life is not eternal, and drinks her morning opaque transparency at all times, weaving the thread of gold and rust, strong and brittle upon which we roam. The mountains wring the land crumples and my inland seas, they, empty. I dreamed the other time a new rose garden in the underworld, she indulged them, poor thing. A journey to the center of the Earth is therefore no reason to have intercourse that way tonight as I binds me to the chair of setbacks lost.

Nobody knows. Remember, reminds me that I do not know, I know only too knew nothing. Futures tumultuous pasts inert, this fixed, the interlude in my room, the row of the theater, the bend of your projects. What did you for? I would simply tell you that the surprise does not surprise me since I took over this ephemeral freedom. For the first time I whipped the reins with the grip of a rebel, I picked up the illusion on my body said, "so I shocked. Considering that this story is no longer realize that I will become again a slave, even if in your heart, you must remain aware that my servitude will end.

Nobody Knows But I Do. How to quit the yoke of another? Nobody knows but me ... The culmination of many years to endure the capricious scars of my being told me to escape to freedom eternal. And the volcano rumbles quietly flowing magma his carmine, moorland plateaus and greenery of a revival, my ocean evolve into the direction of a bed a virgin, and the clouds will be slashed while dawn to dusk successor, enlighten me with human dignity. I see hope in this tunnel, that light in the dark as j'occulte.

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles

How To Connect A Regulator To A Ceiling Fan

Fatma, Fatma is us, Fatma is in every one of you were talking about other

I sent to you before when you decided to stop writing and I asked for the return of what a beautiful pen yours. the irony is that just a year later, I still seek your return, not because you decided to leave but because we have imposed your departure!
In my other post I took the words you write:

"We are writing to succeed to breathe air without dioxide places, names, gestures, nicks and people we pursue in the darkness of solitude ... ""

That would be the point of writing if we were tied up hands, if we dictate what others should read it if it is expressed only behind borders, fences, if there is any time to question if the ink is cursed, so resonates in our heads banned??

Add to breathe and we want to stop you breathing, living.



Free Fatma

Cervix Low And Soft Means

There are people who live for love,
are people who live to give,
are people who survive by leaving the herd to pass, go,
observing what is happening in their corner, not
mistrusting nothing, forgetting all the cracks initiated by fate ...

Why? For whom? until what? Hoping that?

Y has one somewhere who believe that everything will be fine, that everything
follow his path, they can surely
miss anything
while the train passes under their noses, their
what is beautiful hand
slowly but surely, to distant lands ...

mistrust? laziness? false hopes? false beliefs?

Y who are always thirsty, but they are given bread,
those who do not need a helping hand
believers follow the right path,
passing next to many things,
know what brings them out of their daily
yes! sometimes it's good to change his hum drum ...

ignorance? bad luck yes, surrender

Connect Regulator To A Ceiling Fan

The best moment of my day

The best time of day
is when the sun rises
is when the air is so pure
breathtaking
the sea is so soft as to deceive the sailors

the morning is so quiet that
casts doubt on the existence of a certain kind
human

the best time of day
is when the sun goes down
when birds to flee their nests when
feared the arrival of the night
this is not your favorite moment, I know that especially
everything disappears eyelids grow heavy


minarets and sing the night covers the countries
to announce the end of a day spent early


the best time of day
is when I feel nothing when I forget
if it's fine or not well
is when your eyes me like a beautiful sailing
will
as the sun
is when your laughter erupts
stronger than the songs, the cries, the sounds of an awakening

copyright Mehdi Zribi

Can Refrigerator Magnets Damage Microwave Ovens

spectactor pessimism

last night I was walking on a quay of the Seine, between dream and memory. Fate does not care for his heavenly seat of our troubles, these wounds that haunt, haunting. And I walked along the Seine somewhere deep in my memory, I imagine, and envisages the brown water. Often. Too.

My eyes are a gray sky. Their tears rain. My cheeks of the blocks, and my whole body tarnished. I have a heavy heart, I feel heavy, grave, spirit drive. The sensitive soul. Nerves open. Blood hot. And veins to live. What happened?

I passed by the wharf, when I confronted the horror, terror, one that kills before announcing the duel. The black vault beyond the vaporous masses, stones greasy, oozing their putrid cargo defections river, gulls extended, tired, my feet in the middle of Paris, everything radiated the strange sensation of a near wake. Oh nightmare! You who watches teeth, snapped in Cerberus hungry, itchy paw in front of your matador, let me! The border

cynical pessimism is thin and I have no strength to poke fun of the real evils, I sink every moment, every shot a little more in the doldrums. I sleep there, naked, cold and frigid on the banks of the Seine by repressive times. Red and purple are the sets of my melancholy, this bloody spectacle that I endorse in spite of myself, which I watch helplessly. When will it end there? God himself knows. Simply, I dreamed of a walk of a Parisian year, a dramatic deleterious, which I was author, actor and spectator. We're connected to ourselves ... And I am dying.

The pink tint then fades and rots.

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles

Watch Movie Kates Playground

Limbo of Antarctica

His body and his heart had been dissolved. He floated among the particles of water vapor suspended in the air. He felt neither his hands nor his feet, as if someone had stolen him. Yet he could still feel his heart that he had himself torn. Yes, he quivered to and fro between two molecules of hydrogen dioxide, all its members scattered. And he sought.

His path could already be defined as not being it. Him, anyway, did not see much, do not apprehensive in any way. He just wandered up to the death because he was quiet in the solitude of a sudden not be summed up as such, what constitutes the individual. Complacency ... This is not laziness, it's complacency, which is the mother of vice! A pale impaled ... He thought himself flayed alive, there he was. Blood, blood ostentatious incensing the supposed infernal censors.

The ice is near guessed, even before his eyes. The polar wind ... From whence he came, he did not seem so cold he did not deleterious. As for where he went, he cared little. Love, death, perhaps, is where all the uncertainty of life. Know or think or believe to know, what is the essence? He knew nothing. He had read Descartes and acceded to the justification of a ergo sum by Cogito of Dubito . But after all, he was so sure he was wondering now doubt if he really doubted, so he was. Too many embellishments he was fired.

the moment he lay there in the dark over a mass funeral for only allies with his heart, somewhere outside him, a stranger, ice and existential doubt. Ah! As the world once was beautiful! As he had ugly! So much the man at the end he disappears, he goes, down it, or he goes come, why bother? What to do with this heart nicked, useless and smelly?

It was hard to come together as it was dispersed, thin was not to focus on its own. Recover the fragments lying on the surface of a tarnished former secretary ... He would have liked to read again the story of his life. It would have snubbed once again by secret lean work he had done. Finally, he would have ever written, probably in vain. Principe de Ronsard.

For the nothingness of man is his ceaseless uncertainty at every attempt to assert the objection is raised, and nothing is gained, not even life. I would gladly have drunk the last time the coffee place Cambronne.

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles

What Happened To Fakku.net ?

Full moon of late summer

full moon or you're the sweet vigils
Rayon
Brightens eyes loved ones


attractive Beautiful Full Moon Round mesmerizing
What are you hiding behind your aura bewitching

full moon of a certain September
Play hide and seek with shadows
Uses language
silent witness of all humanity

Full Moon your visits are rare
Is it to preserve hidden treasures?
Is it to distract the traces of cruelty?
Do remember to avoid this as far
shared?

Full Moon Shines
your sweet light the path for the Perplexed
undressed veiled hearts
Evokes moments, vigils
Murmurs and laughter, for past actions

Full Moon
scented with jasmine, roses and carnations Recalls
near the end of a certain summer nights

Enjoy the last Alone in the great starry sky

What Is The Use Of Susten 200

The strength of a desire: Who will save Fadwa

Fadwa, seeing it seems to be a girl all that is more common, However, once you notice the absence of her hair, we guess she was diagnosed with this unpredictable disease which can affect anyone, anytime, regardless of his age and physical condition. Fadwa
suffers from cancer, he was met at the Institute Salah Tunis Azaiez or she performs his chemotherapy sessions. Fadwa
through the publication of his image wants to show everyone who viewed, his struggle, his perseverance, his hopes, a young girl who knows she can heal but also needs her and her peers, resources, recognition, assistance, from us ... Good luck

The song Fadwa

Clearly, you do not like the crowd
We can see that you labored to stay
All everyone knows what is happening in your body
But nobody knows the background of your thoughts

Your gaze was direct, piercing
you obliged to decline eyes, the ones you watched
You had a proud look, a head perched high
We believe it's you that is battering the disease
If your carrier does not come to ruin

Your presence alone was radiant
It is clear that the girl has a strong character
Everybody knows what's happening in your body
But nobody knows the depths of your mind you disappear for


to rest And we can see that your departure was well noticed
The music came to fetch you
And instead of helping you is you who comforted
Of your smile You shone the
Of your beautiful voices you redraw

Singing, You wanted to repeat a verse
"I can not let go of my dear beloved
The moon is my love, the stars are her eyes,
And you my love you're whole life"
Are your unconscious that this was done on purpose?
When we cling to life
Sure, she never let us fall

They came in order to give you the smile
And it was you who gave a smile to all
time moments
And you continue to draw
the faces of all who sing thee visionnent
A Lesson A lesson to all
perseverance, tolerance, strength, willpower
Everybody knows what's happening in your body
And now you can guess your message, the background of your thoughts

PrincessTanit

's Group ATCC

Lease Offer Letter Sample

Thinking Beyond the Unique Benevolent: our essence-tial. Want

I see we're so disconnected from ourselves that we feel even more that generates or not the well being and joy in us ...
Our societies, schools, education, thought Sole Benevolent urge us to be what it should be instead of focusing on what we are. We become the
thought Unique "Benevolent" , and neither do we do we are more interested in what we're really spend our time but tend towards what we believe should be, or believe be.

The child is subject to achieving a result, the issue is the loss of the love of parents themselves become thought this limited and limiting.
This gave birth to generations of people seeking a symbolic recognition to relieve their emotional insecurity engraved in their hearts. This need for recognition can be satisfied because nothing is ever good enough, as we were taught Unique Thought ... and as it is never enough "as it should," "I could never be loved "... So here I am walled in this search for what I think should be to be loved, in other words. for the right to exist ... How

overcome and stand on its own?

In fact, there is nothing which we must free ourselves because they're just stories we tell ourselves but it's not always easy to see.

First, I think it is .... SEE see that we are never satisfied to see that we always want something other than what is there, and ask ourselves "After Let us run what we really? what we hope to find? Why is it important for us What led us to think that's important? What does this will bring us? and this what will it bring us? so ... "and to dig up the point ... our essence-tial.
Then it is good to take time for yourself, see and feel the evil that one is, violence that is inflicted, the intolerance that we have our respect. Stay a little with you from time to time and see that it does not recognize the right of self-care, to give time and tenderness.
Finally, it is good to try to discover the simple things that bring us pleasure and make them, this may be eating a dish we love, to massage, sit and have a good coffee on a sun terrace, listening to beautiful music that we love ... ... see that we are given this by conscience and live fully in the moment right there in the pleasure of what we feel.

Does all this can free us from the Benevolent Unique Thought?

is a door that opens ... it does no good to break it ... it would be violence as we always used to do .... Little by little direction we want to give our lives appear more clearly. the masks fall, the change will appear. This is the path to self ....

What do you think?

Ideas To Paint My Hallway

not want spiritual awakening: a tour de force!

I think increasingly broad lines of our destiny is written.
then I believe that the awakening of consciousness experienced by some was written and it arises from an alchemy outside the human mind. I think the
concept of arousal is a tempting carrot among many others.

I think the worst thing that ever happened was being informed that some people have had this awakening.
I think it's a poisoned chalice.

But now that we are and that we are in the era of the transmission of information ... we ask ... what do we do with all this?

I wonder about the intentions of Eckhart Tolle;
When he puts people in custody or mentalise define enlightenment as a state was reached or an event or experience that can happen in the future

A What could well expect E Tolle?
Talk about a beautiful candy store has a child by him begin to describe the color, shape and taste that wonderful feel for each delicious candy when he eats. Drive near the window so he can feel every delicious flavors of this place. Go into the shop and leave the child in the street and shout it from the inside and now he wants one day to taste these candies he must renounce the desire to eat. What will it happen in your opinion?

this does not detract from Eckhart Tolle's book, which is a masterpiece. My question concerns the reaction of the human mind towards reading this book. how to ask or suggest to readers not to seek to attain this enlightenment while the very principle of the functioning of the human mind ...
I am aware that the message thus formulated by E. Tolle is also supposed to go to a deeper part of us. But it will be understood that if we are ready.

the question is: the book of E. Tolle is it supposed to make us loans can be heard (as he did hear it) unless we are ready?

I think a better path is to be guided by a guru (and in the best sense of the word) who will be careful not to give us anything as spiritual theory that the mind could be put in the tooth. A guru who does not promise any awakening but before any promises that we will connect the reasons why we want to be awake, that it will help us see our evil être.Il commit to what we connects us to ourselves instead of leading us to deny our mental structure. (E. Tolle defend it but ... this negates the actual functioning of humans on which he wants to bring light, because we know if we are convinced that the mind is the source of our misery (which is true) we still want more and seek to eliminate it and we're done)
The guru leads us to experience what we need to experiment to develop our awareness of ourselves and that without providing the opportunity to return to the mind the reins.
A history of blind faith with all the risks of deviance that may entail.
Above all listen to her intuition ...

What do you think? What

Holly Willoughb Cfake

Whence comes this feeling of love?

what love?
"I love you," she said ... What does it mean?
I react as if the meaning of the word was the same for me than for her, but is it true? Are we talking about the same? And do we know what drives us to say that?


Love does it because we need another?
Ask yourself these two aspects are not related to us ...
I like it because it meets my needs and what happens if it stops there? The would I always beyond reproach born? Is this love?

Why do we say to each other we love ? What makes that we need to specify, we can not say .... Let's be honest, it would be too easy to reply that we know that he will be pleased to know so we told him ... Honestly
, let us ask standest t is precisely when we say to another, "I love you" ... we expect something, but whatever ... ..


child whose needs are met, feels at peace and recognition vis-à-vis the one who took care of him ... is this what love?
Vis-à-vis our parents, we can love them or not ... if you feel somewhat " love "this may be because they have left a bitter taste of dissatisfaction of our emotional needs or other ...
Can we infer that we love them because they satisfied our needs?
Is it love or recognition? What is love?

Why love is it so volatile? We love today, we do more tomorrow ...
What happened? The events did not unfold as we demanded, the other he has more satisfied our needs?


What is this feeling that is born in us a desire to merge with another?
sensation known as "love" where does she? Is this really a conscious sensation from a free or Relan our old emotional gaps from our relationships with our parents. Are we free?

What is this sadness we feel during a marital separation? What makes us sad .... The fact of not being able to love each other or to consider the fact that we no longer loved each other? Finally, there is nothing preventing us from continuing to love each other ... ..
The key element is to be loved the other, the "I love you" is only intended to show each other that I want to continue to be loved by him. ... what is it love?
When this type of separation, are not we trying to play again for the umpteenth time the staging of our old pain of childhood?


we are aware of the theory of selfless love ... but beyond the rhetoric we've really enjoyed?
free man, filled with love and esteem for him he needs to be loved? Did he need to say his love for sure to be loved?

Love Does it free? ... For what purpose?
Free Love could be an entirely different nature and feel that what we have seen so far? Perhaps we could describe as "Love", this word has already been so used for anything other than what it is ...

What do you think ?......

How To Sew A Salwar Kameez

Z??

"gooo! But wake up! What's happening? You never done such a thing! Do not leave me, you still have good years ahead of you, you're not going to leave us so little ... "
No response, no reaction, it definitely does not show signs of life.

We went to wake the neighbors in this sultry afternoon. He has already dealt with similar cases a dozen times. The neighbor is watching you, you turn around, pats here, your reaction is observed. Nada! You do not want to react.

"Boffff, you've made your film several times, but it never lasted long enough, at least not long enough that I get angry." But there I moved beyond the nervousness and I'm worried. I want to lose you now, dare I even say do not leave me, I am the shadow of your shadow, the shadow of your hand, I turn there ... A

arm strength and perseverance we can transport you to expert closest and god knows it is difficult to find in summer, Sunday of the month of August. He's watching you with his expert eye and forces you to make a sound, you know he recognizes him and he surely an effective remedy to give you back your vitality. The review continues

a good time, as a solution he decides to replace you the source part of your ills. "We can easily change it is a story of an hour or two. Get some rest and come back later, you will find it great. "He said.

At heart I'm leaving cons between these caring hands while harsh, I often wonder why there are not enough hands female who cares for you and your colleagues. This is an area that remains almost exclusively male, though I imagine that a little sweetness will be good for your case, you are often treated so brutally, bluntly

... "Is she going to react? Does she succeed to amaze me as always. . "It's not his first time and after each blow, it makes me feel she was totally revived. In seeking excuses such as I tried to hide my fears until the expert comes calling asking me to come get you.

His friendly smile makes me understand that you're okay now. He corrected the evil. The defective part was replaced. I have not insisted on knowing why, I'm hopeless in both mechanical identification marks. All that matters is that I can manipulate you without you know suffering.
I turn the key, and you start going out this serious noise, sound, full of vitality, but certainly pollutant so pleasant to my ears in space those few moments. Welcome back Za9zou9a.

Humorous 60th Wedding Anniversary Speech

Ramadan 1st day

My

Mr. Ramadan (Sidi Romthane) came to give his annual chili Lunar New Year 14: 30 during a Ramadan under the sign of fire.

This year's chili is more pronounced and for good reason, now everything is seen in red, the faces are red, heat is red (instead of blue some), the blood rushes to the head causes red anger, the cost of food consumed in the various cafes Greater Tunis is simply written in red, the prices of consumer goods are on fire in the bazaars and supermarkets or the world sees red cap of the bottle of water makes you winks

red ... red is good as even the color of passion, enthusiasm and warmth. Ah hot! a word that should be avoided to pronounce anything because its pronunciation in itself trigger an increase in body temperature of 3 degrees or 4 ...

A warmth (Not the warm sense of the word but rather let the feeling nervous, anxious) emerges from the tails that are created across all stand before setting out food that may cause the famous Chahwét Romthane. Everything passes, the same bread but with different formulations, hornets exposed to sweets and milk sold in moderation through the fruits and vegetables sold at the head of customer.

A real warmth emanates from cons of family tables during food preparation and during the Iftar. We realize that oddly not meet often enough. A good place for the holy month.

finish break of fasting and not having had an upset stomach just by honoring the various dishes that adorn the table, the TV takes over and offers a variety of programs unsustainable that we will lose our bearings television during the first days it is on and it would take 2 or 3 days before fixing his choice on his own grid Ramadan.

Ramadan + heat + anger + jam + tails + hunger + thirst + indigestion television + (possible future roundup sorry guys ) = an explosive mix in the image of a 2009 full of surprises.

remain confident, everyone love each other, kissing and shaking hands (to reduce their frequency preferably swine influenza requires).

Romthankom or snin Deym Mabrouk:).

.

Milena Velba Bra Talk With Iza

wink, twenty years later ... Hello I am

And I cried ... I selected yet, but I still can not define the reason that blew my tears, I can not define the emotion that seized me suddenly .

I cried bitterly, more than the day I lost my cat when I was 8 years
the day I said goodbye to my grandfather for the Last time when I was 13,
the day I got my tray after enormous efforts and countless sleepless nights,
the day my man is gone, never to return,
more than the day or my Cat came back after 2 months of separation, when I was 8 years old.

My tears have raised the pink of my cheeks, removed the makeup to the beautician took so long to ask, could not hide the broad smile which appear even a trace of my teeth missing, flowed at a rate of dinghies that alternately throwing our relatives around you to wish you happiness, happiness, just happiness the world.

I cried, and wiped my tears were useless.
You were radiant with your white dress, your veil being pressed to raise your bouquet of fragrant flowers but your perfume was even more pervasive, thy glittering tiara adorning your head, you gave the look of a princess but you were even more beautiful than a princess, you were my princess to me.

And I cried when I saw you dancing in the track, seeing
shine your eyes, your smile that lit up the room,
lovers eyes rested on you,
I hoped in my heart that this love you fill and invades your life,
it is as strong as that invades me, the day you came to fill my life. You came

wipe my tears, telling me to stop crying, kissing my hands, my head, just hold me strongly as I did when you were little to reduce your pain, to relieve your suffering, to make you Your joie de vivre.

You came to train in dance, kissing me, making me laugh, throwing me glances encouraging, like the ones you threw me in time, when you suddenly let go of my hand to join your classmates in the school yard before melting in the crowd of small heads that ran in all directions.
Again, you
funds in the crowd of people wanting to share your joy, our joy, to dance with you, you take vows, kiss you, wish you happiness, happiness, all the happiness in the world.

And I cried again to see my little girl away from me, to see
make his own way, I thought that
now I no longer see her disorder which annoyed me, I would cry
more to wake you up,
I do not share his confidences and secrets before going to bed.


The crowd pushed toward the exit you prevented me even t'apercevoir, you far from me already, hurry to cut the last tie that united us ...
sudden, your head can be discerned from other brown heads invasive
I hastily wiped the halos that formed under my eyes, my
princess smiled and threw me tenderly,
again
exactly the same mischievous look she threw me before leaving for a new adventure schoolgirl
20 years ago ...

Brazilian Women Squirters

'VIP'

I am a person who does not go unnoticed that when she goes somewhere fills all space with his presence. When I walk down the street, people have different reactions, some withdraw to let me pass, others smile at me kindly, others pretend not to see me at all, I come out yet out their discreet glances thrown my way.
Children often show me the finger, shouting look mom or dad. It's not every day you see the VIP in the street. I always say with a smile or a hand signal.

the restaurant, we always press me to prepare a place for me especially, even if it means moving people already installed, they are most often without any annoyance. When I travel, I often close a person who assists me. I rarely seul.On not let someone like me alone.

I am VIP, so I often have special access to enter public places and often have more privileges than ordinary mortals. A place in the same plane and a facility to exceed a tail and easily introduce myself in the lead. I am not talking about concerts, stadiums and festivals. I'm naturally a priority.

Oh I forgot my parking space, it's the same elsewhere, it is located just outside the supermarket and nobody takes me. Besides those who do not respect this rule and park in my space naturally receive VIP world a fine.

Yet as I look to others to queue like everyone else, we do not look at me when I pass. I would love to regain the liberty of move when I want and all alone without support from prying eyes.
I would, but I'm 'VIP' a 'Very Invalid Person' and I am now stuck in my wheelchair makes me so different, a disabled person, special, very special.

inspired by: clubVIP: very personal invalid

Husband Made To Wear Girdle

stay or to leave, may be ...

Suddenly, they intervene nasty An intrusion
imagine if you find yourself in the '
' What will your life now after '
does not oscillate between happiness and serenity risky
acquired without due
And calmly weigh the merits of thy reasoning

Suddenly a vision emerges

Suddenly the parameters change
That may be me who did it on purpose
miss the last step
Stay on this wharf was strangely quiet
Who calmed
During a moment
Playing this surprise
What can cause sudden unexpected invitation

springs illumination An unlikely scenario

Unveiled time of hesitation
Appears a purpose other than
blinded previously unaware

The life I'm bland soulless
Put on new clothes and flamboyant
Who was there yet
It would have been sufficient
a moment for a pause in the excitement of the moment

I deliberately missed the march certainly
I deliberately did not follow the change
Why
Will I one day answer to this issue?
For now I
real faith in my intuition

Enough Time clarify that the time lines
And make me see clearly that I am right
deep belief in this little voice
If it is low
It intervenes at the right moment

Port Royale Game Save

over coffee

I drink this bitter coffee and I remember
The stories we told about our
getaways around
Our trips planned, perhaps, one day

I drink this bitter coffee and I thought
From what I missed in m 'away from the nest
And what could have been my life
the probable happiness that I deny this

I drink bitter coffee and I look
Skip nearby I see those who persist
fly those resisting
Those who believe and do not care
Those who refuse to change course
Who eliminate any moment of doubt

I drink this coffee and I feel veiled
The fragrant aroma of that distant land
The crowd, rhythm, dance hands
Life, drunkenness, dreams worldly

I look at the bottom of my cup and I guess
That at the mercy of chance, your destiny is written
Between the lines I try to watch a sign
Maybe somewhere there is written my way
In search of any witness may be nothing
also just false hope
On any beautiful day

Why Is It That My Face Is Uneven?

Dreaming of you.

And I began to dream of you, your eyes
sweet words that reached me fuzzy
as bewitched by Voodoo.

And I began to dream of you, our glances furtively
exchanged, stolen, these discrete
hide and seek invented
of what may be a link imagined, invented us.

And I began to dream of you, your
shy smile, courtesy of this acquired fluid
your words, your gestures docile, quiet.

And I saw what I thought lost
I open my eyes on what I thought broken, I still think
, who had believed.

And I began to see what suited me, to imagine
stolen moments, I fashioned a
happiness that suited me,
not sure it will suit you,
but as I am still alive in my dream,
everything should be perfect.

Throat Hurt Really Bad

Happy Birthday 'Moms'

I woke up in a good mood, eager to give my gift for Mother's Day gift that I even asked my mother to give him the night before because I do not wait, I want see his reaction immediately.

Since the early hours of the day, we hear the songs on the mother, across the street, it looks like all the houses have agreed to put the same frequency. I did not stop to tell the neighbors, mothers of friends that I met today, happy Mother's Day '. Now it draws a smile on their faces, it brightens their eyes.

the middle of the day, I called my mother on the phone and I overheard her voice troubled, I realized she was crying. Each year, my mother could not help but cry remembering my grandmother, the importance it attached to this feast, its requirements and comparisons she made between the gifts brought by her children and by his stepdaughters. Mamie loved this holiday, and we all knew, it was a childish pleasure of reminding us. Today she is gone but his memory remains very alive in our hearts.


hung up the phone, I overheard two little tears that have escaped

involuntarily My eyes, I could not describe the exact nature of her tears. Were they tears of appreciation for, thank you god, my mother is always by my side? Were they tears of sadness because I miss Grandma? Tears of guilt because I am fortunate to be surrounded by people who look at me with eyes full of love, eyes so maternal? Tears of compassion because I have not stopped thinking about those people who no longer have the fortune of having their mothers nearby? Tears of regret for those little children who have not known arms as warm as a mother?


A subtle blend of all these feelings at once, adorned with a melancholy smile, that's what I felt at the bottom.

A great thought to all who are far from their mothers is a godsend to have it all ready, it's a blessing to know you can still hear her sweet voice.

May those in the afterlife to rest in peace.

May those who are watching their children away from there or they are, whatever the distance separating them, one day they will meet.

May God preserves all the mothers of the world.

Good day to all moms.

Happy Birthday

my mom.

Christrening Card Messages

If Courbet painted the origin of the world, myself, I wish it was less dark

Skip alleys of Paris, Seine along their dark eddies gold everywhere breathe the gas that takes you and carries you and a dream, dream, there is the word.

I dream, I dream. The Louvre stands as a ghostly vision as he demonstrates the excessiveness, the demagoguery of a few handfuls of men. And be there, amongst the gardens of the Carrousel, keep the eyes a wooded landscape, fresh, exuding luxury, idleness, as far as imposing prestige and do nothing if not contemplate any scents, rumors alienable in Paris there believe Finally, the owner of this palace, but also possessed the power that once residents of the premises. I daydream at reviving the philosophy of time, then the light period succeeding the dramaturgical we know only too well because she has raised the pride of our nation. Louis I, my subjects them or my guests, I will. Being alone maker of this unique assured of the nonexistence of God, since God is me, sweet delusion of invulnerability, greater expression of stupidity.

I dream, I think. That in my size I'm not above a grain sand. That without my conscience around the world I have nothing to envy to the animal. Devil! I am animal, the herd so brilliantly portrayed by prehistoric Piestre this Cain oil on canvas paintings from the refined, highly civilized Orsay, these men and women, beautiful as the old, the mother as much as his cherubs on the stretcher frames, the couple and slaves, can not you see it in any draft of an organized society? The return of the hunt, hunting what? Primary accomplishment of the most basic needs. And this band hierarchical! How many people have lived and unless we deign to reconsider their memory? Wild beasts, then, what have I to the animal except those original requirements, these reflexes such instinct, this common source, in fact? What do these men before in history so that we looked similar to the demonic creatures of myth?

I dream that I dream I think. If just writing to tell you about me that I am no animal, either: much I am no animal. Yet! ah! But I feel deep in my heart a spirit, a force that shakes violently. A scourge that stubbornly silent since the investigation first. I tremble, I sweat, I cried and my heart and my roof break. Skip alleys of Paris, along with their brown Seine whirlpool gold everywhere breathe the gas that will afflict you and whistles and a dream, go to the origin of the world , black renieurs our eyes, hirsute by what is the hidden obstinately. Scream, run, deafen herself pulse pounding at the temples, out of breath air blank effort essential to the seething heat the skin pores, the language originally drowned in saliva tasty and disturb the landscape through the lacrimal wind ... I think of my destination, I dream my prey future, I think of my hunting.

I thought I was dreaming that I was thinking sweet utopia ... The freedom of not having to do what we must do.

I thought I was dreaming that I was thinking about a sweet utopia, the nightmare of our fathers thinkers. Animal or not, my mind is different, I note, for his insubordination, and all his kind. I walked on my knees in the morning, got up on two for the zenith, before they attend a show third. However with bipedalism divine, my head as the sun approached me that I am repeatedly severely burned. If the student who thought it exerts in the beheading, why do we still believe?

For the writings of Plato we learned not to design for real the illusions of the world. Nevertheless, our pride we did by diving into the history as Greek repugnant lie and we have taken for real materialism of the intellectual, and that is what we will lose.

Journal , Sebastian Asran Zala Charles