Thursday, February 25, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Play Pokemon Blue Free Online
question of feeling
La simultaneità del piacere, dalla liberazione sessuale in poi, è assurta quasi a valore universale, oltre che a parametro talora imprescindibile per la determinazione dell’affinità e dell’intesa di coppia. Ovviamente non mi sfugge l’aspetto simbolico, oltre che organico, della contemporaneità in materia di godimento, sebbene la perdita totale di coscienza (non per niente i greci la chiamavano “la piccola morte”), sia pure limitata dalla sua accentuata brevità, garantisca, nel caso di godimenti sincronici, il più totale ripiegamento su se stessi e la corrispettiva assenza dell’Altro e per l’Altro, proprio nel when he would like instead to be present.
But let us. A
nature cynical and sadistic racist and hopelessly blocked and I Clio, despite twenty years of cohabitation and a substantial community of goods and intent, we could seal our mutual and unshakable "attraction" by the same means that are potentially available the most squalid and vulgar of the human couple. Not that it deprives us sleep, but it is clearly a common experience that is missing from our prolungatissimo idyll.
Today, however, an incident that happened to me represents a sort of sublimation. I went to the bathroom to rid the excess fluid (those bladder mind you. I would not want to mislead you left there by the theme in question) and at the same time as loudly melted my fluids with those in the bottom of the toilet seat I began to hear a kind of echo-noise reduced. I then realized that the echo, which among other things, unlike a real echo, was ending in perfect sync, private indoor bath came from the "magnificent nineteen". So, soon after we put back together and have exchanged a quick glance of understanding, we slowly headed towards the bedroom. And there, on the nuptial bed, we smoked a cigarette.
(Jaenada) 
La simultaneità del piacere, dalla liberazione sessuale in poi, è assurta quasi a valore universale, oltre che a parametro talora imprescindibile per la determinazione dell’affinità e dell’intesa di coppia. Ovviamente non mi sfugge l’aspetto simbolico, oltre che organico, della contemporaneità in materia di godimento, sebbene la perdita totale di coscienza (non per niente i greci la chiamavano “la piccola morte”), sia pure limitata dalla sua accentuata brevità, garantisca, nel caso di godimenti sincronici, il più totale ripiegamento su se stessi e la corrispettiva assenza dell’Altro e per l’Altro, proprio nel when he would like instead to be present.
But let us. A
nature cynical and sadistic racist and hopelessly blocked and I Clio, despite twenty years of cohabitation and a substantial community of goods and intent, we could seal our mutual and unshakable "attraction" by the same means that are potentially available the most squalid and vulgar of the human couple. Not that it deprives us sleep, but it is clearly a common experience that is missing from our prolungatissimo idyll.
Today, however, an incident that happened to me represents a sort of sublimation. I went to the bathroom to rid the excess fluid (those bladder mind you. I would not want to mislead you left there by the theme in question) and at the same time as loudly melted my fluids with those in the bottom of the toilet seat I began to hear a kind of echo-noise reduced. I then realized that the echo, which among other things, unlike a real echo, was ending in perfect sync, private indoor bath came from the "magnificent nineteen". So, soon after we put back together and have exchanged a quick glance of understanding, we slowly headed towards the bedroom. And there, on the nuptial bed, we smoked a cigarette.
(Jaenada)
Friday, February 19, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Recapturing Gold Jewelry
Errors pay
I knew I should not join Facebook.
Just three days after my unfortunate decision, in fact, after six years of loving, faithful and fruitful life together, my beloved pc I finally ditched. Now I write from a PC to luck, but I know that will never be the same.
How can I ever get used to other features? How I can bear another flavor? How will they ever my fingers caress other keys? What other USB port will never give me the same vibrations that you know me? What other button boot, like yours, when the answer will rise to almost quivering with my middle finger? (So \u200b\u200bmuch rededicated as I did with yours, "the G button).
Yet you tried in every way to make me understand what I was risking, that your pride would not accept some of my choices, that traditional values \u200b\u200bwhich had been brought up your processor would not tolerate the evil of promiscuity virtual membership . But I have been deaf to your warnings and now I've lost forever.
(Jaenada)
Monday, February 1, 2010
Is A Mpr Blade Used In Cataract Surgery
Morpheus, you will not have my scalp! Maybe I'll
Sleep is some die
I remember that night I and Henry, after we got drunk, parked the car on the pier in front of the sea. We smoked the last cigarette before you go home. But Henry, after a few words mumbled, slept in stone. And I, in silence, I was thinking.
those nights when I went with Nadine at home. Stopped the car in the dark, a little 'in front of his door, and remains there to pour passion. That gate, bulwark overlooking other worlds, marked the border between desire and responsibility. And it was in limbo and its finitude that exploded and was consumed space of the dream.
I thought at the time that I dedicate to disproportionate unnecessary thoughts, minimal, irrelevant. The only things that really matter in life are health and love. But both are not an idea, but a condition unrelated to any reasoning. When you think you spend your thoughts to the welfare and feelings in reality is nothing but you're dealing with. Just like at the moment.
I thought about how I wanted my life to be like the scripts of those great movies where every person knows what to say, when to say it and how to say. Where thoughts are full brilliant, original, humorous, profound. Where we never talk about the time and unbearable repetitiveness and banal everyday perpetuated indefinitely.
snaps in. I thought, unique and unrepeatable, of the myriad of combinations that had led to meetings of my life and those single, seemingly insignificant, that they had avoided others.
I thought about that time when Nadine, after having observed for a few seconds, he said: "I'm trying, but I can not see anything that I do not like."
what I thought was true Stendhal's phrase: "The passion is not blind, is visionary."
I thought because everything escaped me out of hand. As far as the elusiveness of everything turning into a living emptiness. Sometimes I wanted to stop the moment, a moment any and dilate until the end of time, to be sure, as well as the impression of having truly lived.
I smell of Spring.
I thought the essence of things escapes us, always. For distraction, inertia, habit. Or maybe just for vanity.
I thought about what I changed in the past, its interpretation, whereas this was, if only I had known what we now know, or think I know. Perhaps nothing. The unawareness often amounts to innocence and innocence lost stripping the intoxication of dreams.
who I was gone. What is our idea of \u200b\u200bright did not belong to this world. The shooting death in the heap, only heart, as long as pulses, has the features of the truth. I
unspeakable. It would, contrary to what we think, is much easier to express the cruelty, brutality, wickedness, than we can carry them with respect, with beautiful, with puro.Il True love is indescribable.
At one point, Henry began to show signs of life. He opened his eyes and rubbing well after esserseli, said
- "What did I sleep?"
- "Half an hour"
- "And you?"
- "I"
- (yawn) "It means that you lost half an hour of sleep. "
those nights when I went with Nadine at home. Stopped the car in the dark, a little 'in front of his door, and remains there to pour passion. That gate, bulwark overlooking other worlds, marked the border between desire and responsibility. And it was in limbo and its finitude that exploded and was consumed space of the dream.
I thought at the time that I dedicate to disproportionate unnecessary thoughts, minimal, irrelevant. The only things that really matter in life are health and love. But both are not an idea, but a condition unrelated to any reasoning. When you think you spend your thoughts to the welfare and feelings in reality is nothing but you're dealing with. Just like at the moment.
I thought about how I wanted my life to be like the scripts of those great movies where every person knows what to say, when to say it and how to say. Where thoughts are full brilliant, original, humorous, profound. Where we never talk about the time and unbearable repetitiveness and banal everyday perpetuated indefinitely.
snaps in. I thought, unique and unrepeatable, of the myriad of combinations that had led to meetings of my life and those single, seemingly insignificant, that they had avoided others.
I thought about that time when Nadine, after having observed for a few seconds, he said: "I'm trying, but I can not see anything that I do not like."
what I thought was true Stendhal's phrase: "The passion is not blind, is visionary."
I thought because everything escaped me out of hand. As far as the elusiveness of everything turning into a living emptiness. Sometimes I wanted to stop the moment, a moment any and dilate until the end of time, to be sure, as well as the impression of having truly lived.
I smell of Spring.
I thought the essence of things escapes us, always. For distraction, inertia, habit. Or maybe just for vanity.
I thought about what I changed in the past, its interpretation, whereas this was, if only I had known what we now know, or think I know. Perhaps nothing. The unawareness often amounts to innocence and innocence lost stripping the intoxication of dreams.
who I was gone. What is our idea of \u200b\u200bright did not belong to this world. The shooting death in the heap, only heart, as long as pulses, has the features of the truth. I
unspeakable. It would, contrary to what we think, is much easier to express the cruelty, brutality, wickedness, than we can carry them with respect, with beautiful, with puro.Il True love is indescribable.
At one point, Henry began to show signs of life. He opened his eyes and rubbing well after esserseli, said
- "What did I sleep?"
- "Half an hour"
- "And you?"
- "I"
- (yawn) "It means that you lost half an hour of sleep. "
(Jaenada)
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