Friday, December 31, 2010

Cubefield Medium Screen

Dead Poets Society

This time I choose my words, words of beauty and a force that upset every time the soul, for what they represent. It 'better than the hope of those who can hear whispers from the heart, coming to understand the deeper meaning that lies in them.

" not read and write poetry because it's cute: we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race and the human race is full of passion. Medicine, law, economics, engineering professions are noble necessary to our livelihood, but poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are the things that keep us alive. "
[..]
" Seize the day, pluck the rose when it is time. "Why does the poet use these verses? Because we are food for [...] worms, guys. For, strange to say, everyone in this room one day cease to breathe will become cold and die. Now all get closer, and look at these faces from the past: they have seen a thousand times, but I do not believe them 've ever seen. They are not very different from you, right? same haircut ... full of hormones like you ... and invincible, you feel like you ... The world is their oyster, they think they are destined for great things as many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like yours. Have waited until it was too late to make at least a modicum of their potential? For you see, these guys are now fertilizer for flowers. But if you listen carefully you will hear them whisper their warning. Come on, approach! Listen! Feel? "Carpe," "Carpe diem," Seize the day, boys, "

" Make your lives extraordinary!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EalYHTDuyho

Friday, December 24, 2010

Mini Pockets For Sale

Magic Christmas

first spell

The oratory was in a small area outside the center. The rooms were not modern, but it was not possible restructuring because the money collected during the begging of the Masses were all intended to repair the roof of the Church. But it was still beautiful in the eyes of Sister Marina, a little nun of Marcelline, who saw in the bright colors of the walls only the work of many young people who had spent their afternoons with brush in hand. In the end it was their oratory and cracks, as long as they were harmless and not a sign of structural failure, were filled colors to be the end part of a grand design or a large writing.
The motto of this year was YOU SO ', with the colored pavement below, the houses colored top and the word "so" in the center, with many blacks who were Sbaffi precisely match the cracks appeared that summer.

was very cold that December. Had already fallen so much snow and it snowed in particular from that Wednesday morning. She had gone on foot from the underground to the house where he lived with his sister and from there to the oratory and his shoes wet. She had stopped a moment at the bar to take a hot tea. He felt that was brewing an influence, but had to resist. After all those kids waiting for her: the little Luke, Kid Federico, the judicious Chantal. He knew only that she expected to hear his little big stories, the ones that could tell a good, mimicking the gestures, emphasizing the words, reconstructing the feelings of fear, joy, terror, suffering and love, as only she could do.

After a bit reassured 'by the throat and still benefited from the hot liquid, stood up and greeted Mr. Del Monte, who was on duty at the bar and went into the office to pick up the keys of the chapel. He crossed the yard, climbed up the stairs and went inside.

He sat on a small bench in prayer. He had a big pain in the heart that only God could have soothed and caressed by his thought and tap his love. Then the lights and prepared the benches and prepared to receive children.

They arrived on time at five. They entered the chapel a little 'noisy, but not more than usual and she welcomed them by reminding them that they should make the sign of the cross. When all were seated, the butts thrown in the trash, cans of Coke are on the ground and sealed bags of crisps, Sr. Marina looked at them and thought of the passage of the Nativity, which was about to read. But first I looked at them all, and scolded Luke Frederick, whispering and put his index finger hissing silence ...
- Then children. You know that we are close to Christmas .... Who was born on Christmas?
- Jesus .. Jesus was born ..
- Bravo! And Where Jesus was born? Born in clinic more beautiful than Milan or comes from somewhere else?
- Sister Marina I I!
- Chantal Tell me ...
- in the manger! Nobody had wanted them ...
- Bravi ... but then you know this story .. there is no point in the story ..
- No, come on ...
- Okay .. but first tell me one thing ... you know it a similar story today? Someone so poor that it has the chance to be born in a bell'ospedale, with all those beautiful ostretiche dressed in green, warm and cozy bed and someone to wash a newborn?
- No. .. And you, Sister Marina?
- Yes .... I

In his mind, the image of Sandra was still alive. She could not save that little girl from the street. Often met in the subway when he went to Milan and receiving stolen a thousand times. He had always tried to approach her, but still a huge man had saved the front and ask it to go away. Also that afternoon had gone well. They were underground. About three o'clock there's a lot of people and it is not normal that someone is me. Especially if you know it is a gypsy and you need to watch your wallet: to protect it.

Sister Marina was firm corner of a car. He had seen her go up and approach a well-dressed man. On instinct was close. It was Christmas, even the child was entitled to a hot meal, a bed and blankets, gifts. She also needs to believe in Santa Claus or the Child Jesus and he imagined that no one had ever talked about him, not even when she was smaller, although Santa Claus Baby Jesus do not make distinction of race sex or religion, when it comes to bringing gifts and confirm the magic of Christmas.

was a distinguished man. Strange to find it on the subway an hour in which certain types of men in suits are hiding behind the windows windows of offices where money and travel only a few dreams.

It was a moment. At the same time she was leaning against him and he was portrayed almost as annoyed, Sister Marina was certain that he had already stolen his wallet and had tried to chase it. The man had appeared out of nowhere, and receiving as always looked whispering "break away, sister, if you want to get to Christmas." He had turned and was gone away, following the little Sandra.

While the car doors are closed, he saw Sandra emptied his little glass of coins in the man's pants and ran away a tear.

Second Magic

He was basking in the warmth of the car. It was not a usual hour to be around. Usually at that hour he was sitting at his desk with a steaming cup of tea before him, gently led by his secretary, or some plane to travel from one point to another of the globe.

But that was a special day and decided to go personally to buy gifts for his two children, Matilde of seven and four-Pierre. She had always been his wife to take care of those little things, ordinary or extraordinary. That particular year.

The corporate transaction had occupied much of his time and had spent whole months in Paris, in order to maintain the role of manager in the company that had merged in the French multinational. He had to give all his time to his head, even that which had traditionally always given to his sons, evenings, Saturdays and Sundays.

So he was traveling toward the center of Milan. His wife had sent to some shops where she would find some good ideas and left him free to go "No, today the dentist. I can not take you. " "Too bad" he thought he "would be a nice opportunity to spend some 'time together ...". And now: even with her time spent together was not much. Yet Katie was an adult, I understand. He had complained a bit 'at the beginning because he felt the full weight of responsibility and hard work of the many commitments that star back. He had hired a nanny and she seemed to have calmed down. Or at least not to be reproached as always out.

was hung on the support bar of the meter of the car, when he was tossed and opened his eyes annoyed, a little gypsy girl had hit him and ran. "Damn it! Be careful " wanted to scream ... then kept quiet thinking that after that little girl was the age of his daughter and had to beg their bread on the meter.


Henry got out and went up to the surface. He began to turn for all the shops in the list that had given his wife but found nothing. Absolutely everything was too technical for him, who loved the electric trains or rag dolls. Eventually he had seen: a small wooden board, with the puppets for Disney to do with pedestrians, bishops, towers, horses, queens and kings. He knew how much his children loved chess and he always walked a happy little 'time with them to make some game. And if he entered the wrap.

When put his hand to pay the trousers on the back pocket and discovered it was empty. How empty! "I lost ... no, my God! What a fool ... gypsy that I stole it .. and I that I had pity because it has the same age as Matilda! Damn ... "
apologized to the owner and told him of theft. Then he went to a corner of the store to call:
- Hello Katie. They stole his wallet. Please, I have found a spectacular stuff .. join me? They are in the center .. do you take ten minutes to reach me ...
- Look Henry, I can not .. are still waiting. It will take me another hour .. at least .. I now do not know if this work talk about it in January ... please ... We come back tomorrow, right?
- by Katie ... is a teeth cleaning .. force, by .. I offer you a hot chocolate with whipped cream if you come .. we take it in that little bar ...
- Henry, please do not insist ...
- Su .. I do not come back here tomorrow ... on purpose And 'the last piece ... I do not forgive him if someone else bought ...
- Oh okay ... But that boring .. when I take a little 'time to me ... I feel what I can do ... I'll see you within an hour in the gallery, okay?
- hour? But if you are two stops metro ...
- If you're happy with it so ...
- Okay ... by hurry ...
closed the phone and flooded her eyes and smile all over her face: that night he had in hand the best Christmas gift that would never have found for her children ...

Third Magic

- What a bore ... Michael ... I have to go!
- What? Could you told me you'd stay at the aft'noon ...
- My husband .. he lost his wallet. I have to get ...
- Fuck! When'r'you back, then?
- Eh ... good question ... I do not know, I'll call you!
He got out of bed and looked at Michael. It was beautiful. He remembered well the day that he had known. A year ago it was a day full of snow like that Wednesday and he was stuck in a bar during a photo shoot because his hands were frozen. He had been granted two hours of break and instead of going around, he had slipped in the first heated room he found, had occupied a small table and he had made to serve a hot chocolate with cream. He stood, watching the show outside the store and the snow continued to fall unabated, as if he had wanted to stop when a woman had fallen just beyond the window. He had seen a bit 'of people around her and then a boy had brought in and made to accommodate the one free place: the small table next to her.

He had not done much. Only a small blow to the wrist, because he had supported his hands falling to the ground. He had looked into her face when she removed her hat and had been haunted, she was beautiful. His hair was blond and silky smooth and fell on his shoulders. The eyebrows formed a perfect arc, blond brown over green eyes. Long lashes surrounding her eyes and mouth from smiling slightly fleshy red lips and white teeth. She had only love for the smell, and look for the hand that moved so beautiful along the leg, stroking the point where he probably had banged my knee.
- I'm Michael. They are usually a male model, but for now she can be an angel ... takes a little 'hot chocolate? It's a little 'cold out there ...
Katie looked at him incredulously, but then broke out laughing, because she was not ever a "collision" so much fun.

He had begun attending. First for some chocolate then go and see the photography exhibit photos taken on the day they first met, then bring the drugs that one day he was sick. In the morning the boys were at school and home cured Andreas it to him, the girl that Henry had taken to lift it a bit 'from the chores at home.

That morning he had made at Michael's house in the center of Milan. It was late spring but it was very hot. She was wearing a white shirt and jeans that showed her sinuous body, long legs and side B almost Brazilian. A pair of sneakers made her younger than it actually was. Since then, each week, on Wednesday afternoon, met. Prolong the presence of Andreas home with the excuse of the dentist, who worked a couple of buildings before that of Michael and had afternoon undisturbed.

did not know why that story went on. In the end she loved Henry and the security of his family was something on which to rely very much and would not leave for a little boy. Obviously, this had never said to Michael, who instead continued that relationship with the hope that one day you abandon everything and follow him home to Australia.
- It Will not Be Chris'mas'without good to you, you know, Ka '?
- I do ... But that's what we can have ...
- I love you
- I know you do
With these words, Katia closed behind the door and walked out of Michael, wearing a smile and the nerve to deceive Once again her husband. As he climbed on the subway, the eye fell on a little nun, a humble nun with rotten snow shoes, walking sadly along the corridor of the metro, to the Green Line. He did not know why, but thought that the little woman had in him a heart bigger than his own body could accommodate. She smiled at her and that gift was the best thing that Katie received that Christmas.

Epilogue

There are nights where you do not need snow, songs and music of bells to hear the magic in the air. See the reindeer flying in the sky and a roly-poly man dressed in red that flies in the cheerful azure full of stars. I clean out because it is free: "Why you never know ..." you say, needed to believe that somewhere there is still someone who is willing to give you something.

It does not really think of Santa Claus coming down the chimney. In your eyes there was the smile of a little woman whose life has inexplicably taken out of nothing for you life and meaning. And 'because of people like you that there is Christmas. And 'thank you to those who can smile knowing that at that time you need that smile. E 'with who do you tend your hand when your hand is moving away from the socket. And 'thank you embrace that surround you when you need them to be embraced. And 'thank you to those who know how to warm the heart when the ice exceeds that of the surrounding ice fields and Galaverna.

So Merry Christmas. Above them, who are the real magic of Christmas is not Christmas when you do and hope that the same smile, that same hand and that same heat one day they will come to you.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Tender Breasts Causes

Margaret

- Once upon a time ...
- A king!
- No, not from .. we do that there was once a queen ...
- What a bore all these kings and queens! There once was a princess ...
- And you, Margaret, what would you say?
- I? ... Well ... I ... Margaret was a time!
- Then, once upon a time ... Margherita.

Part

Once upon a time Margherita.

I know who was Margaret. Although I've never known it's as if I had hours before our eyes: it was a skinny little girl, her hair always matted, held up by an elastic band that always shook his head bloody. Every morning the mother arranges her hair in a queue that was not even ten minutes after defeat. I tend to blonde hair was brown. They were curly, Margherita eventually learned to say "too much" and curly to look a bit 'of envy girls with straight hair like silk. Seeping from all parties and were never still, falling on his face tickling the skin when they least expected it.
eyes were green, a brisk that would be hard to believe. Yet they were hidden behind a pair of lenses often, shrinking them. A Margaret did not like at all, but was forced to take them there because without seeing anything. Do not you feel cheated, but it just was not comfortable and felt a bit 'ugly. So we locked up more and more in itself, day after day.

He had many friends and his sister if spinning a lot, as he was busy playing "to be great already."

So Margaret grew, taking with him his little bundle of disappointment and regret.
First for playground games ... like the bell. She had never played there: his mother thought that girls should stay home for good and not had a garden where you can play, because he lived in the city on a busy street. So she stayed in her room to draw for hours. Or pretend to be investigator, hiding behind walls and shooting his sister, his mom or his dad, who got angry and ended on time to confiscate the gun. Once a friend of his grandfather gave her a wheel and she was glad: for months on his favorite pastime was arranging the chairs in the living room as if they were a coach, sitting in the driver's seat, to conduct his imaginary passengers on the one hand across the world.

The afternoons they spent mostly at home, because her mother did not drive and her father was often away. No one could take her from here and there. Not that much interested in sports, like all his friends from school. But not attend the course would have liked skating: he had taken a course only one year out of the van of nuns that her home after class, and that year was enough to fall for catching up cross-legged and flying angels. Then the instructor skating was dead and the school had ceased to organize courses, so his chance skater had flown to heaven with the soul of his teacher.

Margaret rarely went out in the afternoon. He spent the afternoon at times with his grandfather listening to stories of a military war that seemed so far away, while the grandmother, mother and sister were going around to go shopping or passing time gossiping family, locked in the kitchen. Most of the time he spent alone, swaying in his thoughts, shutting out the world around him: in the end was convinced that the world does not understand or could not understand, that was the end for her equivalent.

grew more and more felt different and distant from her surroundings. More growth, more willing to talk about his outburst was not in natural conversation between sisters or between mother and daughter or friends. So it was that Daisy left the children's drawings slowly to fill pages with words, clippings, photographs. Lost in his own words, his dreams began to be confused with reality, and to depart more and more.

Margaret Until one day he stopped talking. The parents were very worried and took her around to find a doctor who could cure her. The only way to tell Margaret that she was to express his feelings as they appeared in his mind, but as nobody understood them, eventually even stopped to tell their stories. The doctors reached their unanimous verdict that there was nothing wrong in Margaret and they had to wait to decide to resume talking to herself, coming out that his own little world where he had hunted. Spending months important luminaries of psychology, to no avail: the little Margaret remained attached to his world by millions of tiny suction cups and remove one did not lead to anything.

Part

It was a warm spring afternoon when the doorbell rang at the door of the apartment where the little Margaret was living with his parents and his sister. It was a Saturday and they were all strangely at home. Little Margaret, always attentive to assist her, but most curious of all that was happening around his house, ran to the peephole and saw a man with a strange hat who was waiting for someone to welcome him. Margaret opened and waited for him to say something. But he was silent, then knelt at his height and made her hello with the hand without speaking.

Margaret returned the greeting and looked into his eyes as if to challenge him. He made a sign to get him and then Margaret took his hand and led him into the room, making him sit on a chair. Strangely, none of his reached it and this was beginning to annoy more and more, why not consider himself to the task. Oibò - he thought - until dumb I am fine, but this one thing will ? - They said girandogli around, as he sat composed simply turned his head following his moves.

Margaret felt compelled to offer something and so he designed and the pastries on a sheet of paper and handed it to her. The man smiled and nodded his head and Margaret was relieved, having a good reason to escape the attentions of man.

When he came in the room with a tray of pastries, a teapot, a sugar bowl and two cups of tea, the man stood up and helped put everything on the dining table. They sat quietly and enjoy their tea. Margaret was always more wonder of that situation and did not know how to react, because for the first time in the position of those who had to interact with someone who had no intention of speaking. Margaret did not know what to do. His were taken from a thousand business and refused to assist with the host. She was embarrassed and she sat drawing on the one hand, while his guest looked.

Suddenly the stranger got up and left. Margaret accompanied him to the door and forgot about it. The next day the guest and the day after he returned again and again for several days. Margaret had now made a habit, and almost expected worried if they arrive late. Placed in the room when he arrived, he went to prepare tea and then they both sat at the large dining table. Margaret drawing until at some point he got up and left.

happened one day almost by chance that the guest did not arrive. Margaret was sitting all alone in her living room waiting for him. The teapot now no longer the hot-smoked and pastels on paper lying untouched. After about an hour she sat, her mother entered the room and asked what he was doing. Margaret shrugged then took a pen and paper and drew something. After much effort, Margaret made her understand that waiting for a guest.
- As a guest, Margaret? - Mom just did not understand. Then she took a sheet and wrote "The guest who came for many afternoons here, do not remember, Mom?"
- But Margaret, what do you say? - He said his mom - in recent afternoon, no one has ever come ... You've been here alone to draw ...

Margaret could not believe it. It was real so his guest. He drank tea, took her hand to follow her, smiled, looked at her. He could smell his breath if he is really closer to the nose. How was it possible that he had only seen her?

For many afternoons Margaret remained in the living room waiting for his friend, but there was no trace of him. His mom was watching a bit 'worried about outside and she pretended not to notice, because a bit' ashamed. Finally she got tired of waiting and began to prepare not more crayons and paper, then no more prepared for the tea and eventually forgot about it.

Margaret became great. He had no speech and his parents had given up the evidence that no doctor would ever have been treated. Neither speak nor tried to communicate with others, if not absolutely necessary to survive. Always wrote. He wrote everywhere. On each piece of paper she wrote wrote wrote what happened and then forgot all around the pieces of paper, hoping that someone will read them.

Returning from school one day, he met a street child on a bicycle. They smiled at her and she caught a start spontaneously smiled. The day after she met him again and again and again the next day for several days. Margaret had made a habit now, as if expecting to meet him and was worried if not always crossed the usual place.

not met him one day and stopped on a bench waiting for him. He made the afternoon, the lights came down and the day became night. Margaret went home worried and the next day he woke up tense and anxious that this school to go over soon to see if his little friend was there waiting for her. None. Nor was there the next day, nor the next day again and again every other day.

Margaret was desperate. For the second time in his life, his little friend had disappeared into thin air and she felt more alone.

years passed and Margaret became a woman. He found a job and was also very good. The work she liked, had his home and held with care and in the evening he wrote fairy tales. Every day he took the streetcar to go to work and liked to pry into people's faces. He stared at the clothes, looked at their shoes. If they were to open their bags and ladies we slipped into her eyes to see what was being taken. And any wealth that the world gave her she continued to write words about words.

It was almost by chance that a boy his age one day he smiled. She felt a bit 'confused. It was a good girl and would not be worth smile and give him confidence. So the first day he turned his eyes elsewhere, the second guard in the air and then fell back to third in his eyes, smiling. Every day they travel together exchanging smiles. Day after day for many days. Margaret had made a habit now, as if expecting to meet him and was concerned when the morning rose on the tram and found him sitting at the usual place.

One morning he was not there. Margaret felt ill at the thought of losing yet another friend. Not yet met him more. For that reason, she is even more closed in on itself, believing that after all he had done well not to give his words to anyone, and keep turning in his head.

Margaret grew old. By the time his hands were unable to draw neither more nor write. She spent her time so sad on a bench in the sun in the park, look around and to envy what others had, wondering why the had been given a life so lonely.

Third Party

One day, quite by accident, he saw a man, a child and a boy sitting on a bench in front of him and gave a start. They were all three there, suddenly appeared, the man of the, the boy with the bicycle and the boy in the tram. Looked at all three, with an expressionless gaze. They looked fake, like wax, without a soul, but she knew they were alive. Or at least a remote period of its past it had been.

Intrigued, he approached them slowly, looking around to see if the people around him he saw them or if they were the fruit of his imagination. No one seemed to care about what he did and so he sat in a small space on the bench, he fished a small package from his bag and we drew up a heart. I went to the boy, they moved as if by magic, and passed to the baby and they still was like waking up on purpose to pass the note to the ladies. The back design, but nothing happened.

The next day found the three he considered his friends, sitting on the same bench in front of which she used to sit. He sat down next to them and drew on a piece of paper hand. He passed the drawing to the boy, who passed it to the child and these ladies to tea. The back design, but nothing happened. On the third day drew a mouth, but everyone looked nothing happened.

drew a tear on the fourth day, the fifth ring, the sixth wing, the seventh a cage, a feather on the eighth, the ninth book full of words. Everyone looked at them, one after the other, and nothing happened.

the tenth day Margherita not draw anything. It was useless. Nobody knew.

passed as void the ticket to the boy, who looked perplexed. The child fell from the bike and began to cry man threw down a cup of tea suddenly appear from nowhere. Then ran together towards the same direction and Margaret decided that this time he would not be lost. The situation was quite surreal, but basically nothing in life had taken more time spent with the company of those three strange figures, and so ran back to their feet. Reached the limit of a small house and white, with red tile roof, very similar to that which Margaret was used to draw when she was little.

The front door was open and so pulled back a bit ', looking around.

Inside the house there was a small hall with three doors. One left, one in the middle and one on the right. He opened the door to the left and found himself in the dining room when she was little. On the table was a steaming tea and freshly baked pastries. The escaped a cry of joy and he wondered. He no longer heard even a whisper from his vocal cords from when she was little, so I was amazed tone of his voice. Did not recognize her as she was scared and almost together and admired. The man walked into the room and said
- Welcome Margaret!
Margaret smiled and said
- Why did you run?
- I escaped from your silence, because it was so much loneliness.

stayed together for long. Margaret smiled and spoke tirelessly. It seemed as if it would recover all the lost time. At one point the man had to stop and push back the atrium of the house, where there were three doors.

Margaret opened the door to the garden center and found himself crossing back from school. He was not surprised to see his little friend run around by bicycle and this time did not hesitate to stop him and ask him his name. They talked for a long time, Margaret told him all the stories that came to mind, until he asked
- Why did you run?
- I escaped from your silence, because it was so much sadness
A voice called the boy's mother Margaret and let him go.

Back in front of three doors, Margaret turned into the right door. He found himself in the tram that took her to work in front of the boy who lit up in a smile when he saw her. She took his hand, came down from the tram and went to take refuge in a bar where they sat down and told long stories of ordinary life. Suddenly he asked:
- Why did you run?
- I escaped from your silence, because it was so much selfishness
Margaret felt a strong urge to go back, closed his eyes and found himself as if by magic in the lobby of the small white house.

It was an extraordinary story that had just experienced, but no one would believe her if she told. So he decided he would do well to be silent again. Was now taken for elderly el'avrebbero mad and locked in a hospice for old where she would die of starvation, sadness and loneliness. Worse than the fate he had not already reserved.

was leaving the house when the house itself began to tremble and rose from the ground. Margaret I was scared to death and did not even have a grip which held. The walls are waving, banging his fragile body from side to side. Suddenly the door flew open and she found herself slipping into a whirling vortex, until it slammed to the ground and closed his eyes.

He had never felt anyone capable of understanding what his heart had to say and so it was hard enough to expel all those who had tried to love it. His heart had no hard words, neither themselves nor for others. And he learned too late.

So on his grave was not written one word.
Every time I pass the cemetery I see it: a small white tomb with a plaque in his silence tells more than many words put together.

- But this is not a fairy tale!
- And why?
- Why fairy tales always have happy endings and this did not have ... seems to be the reality ...
- Perhaps it is?
- I do not like! Ugh I do not like ... I wanted a fairy tale ... invents another order ...
- Okay .. but just because your name is Margaret ....

... Suddenly the door flew open and she found herself slipping into a whirling vortex, until it slammed to the ground and closed his eyes.

When he awoke, Margaret was in her bed.
session was small, the face of his mother was bent over to give her a good morning.

But then, he had only dreamed of?
Margherita if asked twice that they were just dreams or that it was reality, she learned that others were important and could not exclude from his life just to avoid suffering. It seemed that life had decided to offer her another chance and Margaret thought it would be stupid to waste it, at least with the people to whom he loved her he would try to talk!

Thus arose on the bed, kissed his mother and smiled
- Hello !!!!!!

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Funny Technical Running Shirts

nuance

layered walls if these hours in winter, like clay

and here the water is something that slowly crawls out from under the ground,

we have nothing but mud and no longer a question of shaping,

but to stand out from the material (above all) to space

the extent that remains the same distance from the bodies

and this is not digging, but feel the mud, the unfolding of the skin, where

touch, now the gap .

saw swallow amplitudes in the most convulsive Penetration

but is coming in the dawn, which clears the iris and weigh the palms

as steps on the sky, back home:

breath as his eyes darting over the water surface,

spreads like a shadow and is discerned and grace and bread slices:

is only your rough callus, the stroke, that face, the wrinkle

by my smile, the color. distinctions.

the course is in the sweat

and I heard the trembling of separate drops, the inflection of those propositions

juxtapositions of space and - when

hand shook the wrinkles of the cloth - where chiaroscuro,

and evidence: the extension of a sprained, shortness of breath

to get there - see, it is alienating the broad

unveiling of the wrinkles of the body sculpting

in the back spasm.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Dragonball Bulma Doujin

love a thousand times - Angelica

Part
My name is Angelica. Despite Delmi name, my appearance resembles anything but an angel. My mother diceche looks like Morticia Addams of when I'm tired and my hair Micado face white and oval, the bruised eye. Likewise there are Giornico tells me I look like a porcelain doll, with my ringlets rebels imiei green eyes, white skin and cheeks pink.
I do not know which one is the Truth. I am pretty. I like my eyes and my mouth pink, maavrei favorite olive skin that tans easily than dalatticino that burns every summer.
I twenty-seven years and I have a figliadi seven. I got pregnant the first time I made love with a guy dicinque years older than me, who attended my university, outside corso.Mia daughter's name is Blue. I know, is not a traditional name, but I love ilcielo blue it makes me smile, I lit the day and fills my cuore.Così I have given this name because it is never sad. Hope mammacontro of the law of life.
As every Tuesday and Thursday after school swimming in the harbor.
I do not have a permanent job. Svolgolavori spot for a modeling agency, do some shows' around permantenermi college, I started to attend recently. Azzurranacque When I stopped to follow her like a mother to stick to a daughter. Adessoc breath a bit 'more and so I wanted to take my parents dannouna hand to follow the child. Every day except Tuesday and ilgiovedì, which I found my room to be with her. The port inpiscina and then go to the movies, eating pizza, doing what chevogliamo.
I'm here at the pool with Eleanor, my best friend. We're friends since high school and we frequentatoinsieme two years of college. She went and graduated and oralavora. Sara accompanies here, six years of his granddaughter, who attends the course of lostesso Riviera.
Usually we put in a swimming pool and chat angolodella. The fauna is typically feminine: mothers and nonnesedute on chairs with his nose pressed against the glass watching deibambini that, viewed from there, all look the same, if only to lacuffia and goggles. I used to fend Riviera right away, so go with the and leave out of the locker room, then exit riprenderlaquando dressed and coiffed.
E 'for some time that among the usual visine I saw one. It 's a father of a child who attends the same course diAzzurra, but I think he has one more year of my daughter. Trafelatoalle always comes to take six and a half and is out of the locker room, completamentesudata in her duvet and wearing hats that are always used before usciredagli themselves. Upon arriving, the father looks at her, tells her: "Wait a long time? You could avoid putting the jacket ..." and she says "Daddy, I avevipromesso to be on time." He looks up and smiles. She has a face unangelo. E 'brown, with straight hair and thick. The face is smooth, a po'squadrato. The nose is small, the French. His lips are fleshy erosee. It could almost be a woman's face. Just as the angels: senzasesso.
It happened on a Tuesday that I was from solaperchè Sara fell ill. The prospect of spending two hours alone, more than half an hour of waiting before laclassica oppressed me to the dressing room. Girovagavocon eyes looking for someone to talk to, when I saw the mioangelo, who had arrived early to accompany the incredibly suabambina, which usually did not. By chance I found ourselves sitting at the place and he miosolito two seats away, his face a bit 'wandering lemamme ciacole as that between mother hen.
happened that suddenly came up to me a gentleman circaquarantacinque years, matted hair on his head, dressed in a little 'greasy rozzoe and said
- ; You are Elena? Elena of the gym?
- No. I'm not Helen ...
- Are you sure of not being Elena? I swear, seiuguale ... blacks the same hair ...
- No, I assure you ...
- Excuse me ... you look exactly like Helen, quelladella gym down the country. He knows the gym?

closed the conversation by pretending that the phone vibrating pockets.

My fake phone call can tear yourself away for just a little ', perchèappena rinfilai the phone in his pocket, came from behind me, handing me a booklet Conforzi. I thought you would show me the "its" Elena, for dimostrarmiche actually had every right to be wrong, but in reality only mipresentò a page with advertising for a gym that I knew well, because many of my friends attended.
- This is the gym, you see? You are exactly the same Aelen, unbelievable .. You do not know?
- No, sorry ...

cut him short. He stood there five minutes and then went to opening a coffee bar.

It was removed recently when I heard the angel beside meridacchiare. Then he turned to me and said
- course but she is just equal to Elena ... sa?

laughed. We were accomplices of the madman who went about pearl swimming pool and so I told him:
- I confess only to her, are her twin sister ...
- Well, it's an attempt to approach a woman who has witnessed buffoal ...

Part
And so we began to talk. Or rather he talked, I guardavo.Era really beautiful, more than I could see every time loavevo crossed out from the locker rooms. Despite the transparent eyes, they were deep and will penetrate into the soul. I lost myself in suabocca as he spoke. Peered his lips that moved, lepiccole folds that formed white teeth as she smiled and suddenly cheapparivano to dazzle. Yes, it was fascinating and I stavaraccontando half an hour from his life as a confessor ... ESI was the architect had started to tell me the house he was building for a riccoimprenditore Milan. It was fun, it was beautiful ...

Suddenly he stopped and said
- Even your daughter does two hours of swimming?
- Yes, why?
- Well ... I know a little pub nearby, a postotranquillo ... maybe we can go for a drink ... what do you think?

Yes, the idea I was going ... but I felt a false note that I did not know ... maybe I should not accept? Perhaps it was also his attempt to abbordaggioun a bit 'less awkward than I had engaged before? I decided to nonpensarci. In the end we went only a little bar for a drink, that's all.
- Okay ... But we are not off very ...
- Well, the girls end up in an hour and we will retrieve quia as usual, quiet!
- Sai ... I do not want you to be late once puoiessere timely ...
- How do you know?
- I see you always ... arrive breathless and your daughter tirimprovera the delay ...
- Already ... even if I work near here I can never adorganizzarmi time for ... mm, however, means that you too had noticed ...
- "Even"?

not answered. Made his way toward the exit, I opened the door gently Eandi to the parking lot. He had a motorcycle, which I did not expect, maringraziai the sky that day I was making jeans. He gave me a helmet emi invited to sit behind him.

I felt a little 'clumsy. I did not know where to stop, and as NOTFOUND no hold hands and move a bit 'up and down, at some puntolui outlets one by one and carried them around the waist.

felt salivation increase, accelerating the rhythm of the heart and spread unaenergia over my body. It was a feeling that has long nonprovavo and that made me happy, even if still discordant note rompeval'armonia that time, although not well defined sapendola.

He stopped in front of a small bar. It was not in the center. It was a bar diquelli that you must know to go there, those who can not find casopasseggiando for the country. He had a covered parking, a bit 'hidden allavista there and my companion stopped. I got off my bike and waited luila settled down on the sidewalk, put the helmets in place and shut the varieserrature.
- Come, it's nice here, you'll see.

The bar had a large counter in the center, where stood stiffly quelloche I believe was the owner, a man of about forty-five, with two eyes and a po'brizzolato would call "curious", the kind that you inquadranoper trying to steal who you are at first sight. He was standing at asciugarebicchieri, cups and saucers, that system then carefully scaffalealle on his back, ready for a new order. He had a bit there '. Siguard a bit 'around, indeed, I had the impression that suoiavventori watch with mock distracted air, as if ostentarediscrezione. I do not know why, but her look a bit embarrassed me 'and was meistintivo to hide behind my host, almost as if I was caught infallible.

- Hi!
- Good evening. A table for two? - Dissel'uomo down from the bench for his club in our way. He had a belsorriso, of open and honest, and I embrace you aCasa make you feel, safe.

The place was very special, with lots of booths, colors diversi.L 'angel asked me where I wanted to sit down and instinctively chose the blue booths, a little' out of the door. The man looked at me, then my host. Fececenno us to sit down and asked us what you like. My guest ordered a coffee. Continuavoa I scroll through the list without knowing what to choose and in the end I asked miosolito green tea. The owner was not surprised, as it happens to me in moltialtri premises.

- Do you know that you told me your name? -I asked the angel
- Angelica - said
- Mm ... what a beautiful name ... particularly ... direiche you are well ...
- But no, by ... I look like a witch, wrapped - I said and then continued: - Etu?
- Simon ... I like it here?
- Yes, he's cute ... intimate ... loconoscevo not this place, but is open to much?
- do not know ... I come here every so often. E'discreto, there's strange people ... you know is not a place of passage ... vienise we know it's here ...
- Funny .. the same thing I thought we got ioquando ...
A little moment of awkwardness. I looked around, I did not know comecontinuare. Suddenly it seemed to me that Simon would iosemplicemente court and I was not prepared. Did not go out with a man eight years. The ultimocon who was the father was out of blue and did not see it from that nottenella which we had made love. I had wanted to look and he does not erafatto alive, so I thought that basically did not care if I do not even care to glisarebbe Riviera.

I hated men for years. I was never able to get close Alora. It was still so, even if recently I started going out conqualche university friend, one of those with whom you know to be alsicuro, because they only study in the head.

Third Party

front of me was Simon, an ordinary man, an older man me, married with at least one daughter and did not know how to behave.

I never want a story any. I had always desideratoil prince ... Simone was faced was beautiful, until it was trattatodi dream. I was in front of his face, I was captivated by her beauty and prenderedalla and his sympathy, I was lost in her eyes. Eppurealla end, suddenly, something was starting to dye his dark face dicolori.

The discordant note had become a collection of notes that were ruining the concertoche I was listening. I did not know where it came from the feeling that disturbed me cosìstrana and I was confused in my mind, when Simone took her hand all'improvvisomi:
- Angelica, you know you're really pretty?

took off my hand just as the owner arrived with a tray:
- A green tea for Miss caffèper and you, sir.

What strange, I thought ... I had almost seemed that the man had trod in particolaresulle words "Miss" and "sir" as if to emphasize that eraqualcosa that was not well, almost a warning to think twice before compierequalunque action. After resting our orders on the table if neandò to regain its position on the counter to dry glasses.

- What do you think you see us one evening? -Simon insisted
- Ma. I really do not know ... I think you siasposato, no?
- Yes, it's a problem?

"Damn!" I thought me and one sour note turned into anger, "Of course it's a problem ... I will also have a stupid so far, but said that if Care is hardly one was stupid once and then forever ... I volevoil prince charming and I was wrong ... That does not mean that I still find it nondesideri ... "

Probably my anger came out through my eyes like smoke, perchèSimone began to apologize:
- Come on, you understand ... you know ... iointendevo few nights out with friends, so ... I do it often ... nonintendevo ...

I said nothing. Scostai my cup of green tea, I got up and went Versolato cash.
The owner approached with discretion and let me pay. Ebbil'impressione from the bench that he had witnessed the whole scene and so piantaii my eyes in her and said - can you call a taxi ... now?

The man smiled with understanding and approval. Simone stood alseparé to drink his coffee. He did not move for five minutes that it took peril taxi to reach that bar.

I left the room without looking back and that was the last time chevidi Simone.
After that night to think of it I have not even seen his daughter.

not made myself too many questions about that strange day, but when I had to go back chased with the mind, the conclusion was always that it is true, I quelgiorno I met an angel. In reality he was an angel than cherimangono quiet in a corner, without drawing the sword and conglomerate eyes to guide you the truth, sometimes while making meaningless gestures.

so insignificant as to dry the glasses behind a bar ofa bar, a small bar in the province.