Thursday, March 17, 2011
Amethyst To Wear On Which Finger?
Dear friends Foggia,
In this day of celebration, a pervading sense of belonging and sharing my heart.
We feel this strongly scented homeland.
Only together, with strength and national solidarity, we can hope for a better future. The singularity can not do anything but integrated in a project of united Italy. It is not demagoguery, and reality.
Foggia, a city of Italy, is proudly associated with this great national celebration.
Italy our wishes!
http://www.comune.foggia.it/Default.aspx?Id=1818
http://www.daunianews.it/cultura-ed-eventi.html
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Enzymatic Toothpaste For Humans
Long live Italy, eh?
What then, if you think about it, Italy does not exist. Some Italian, that, yes, but still are too few to form a people. Because the strain is not uniform, because the Italians are true in France or America and have become strangers.
The Italians speak a thousand languages, the Italians do not understand. And those who understand they do not act with unity of purpose.
What unit for you? Having an official language, a common religion, a defined area to call home and be willing to die for it, but I'd rather you were all deserters who are defended by the usurpers of citizenship they call Italian.
Resistance already. Resistance of the manifestations of rampant gooders March 17, Resistance seen as the hypocrisy of defending people who sing the anthem and vote for the Northern League.
Basically, Padania does not exist. On 17 March, no, no. Why all eyes are focused elsewhere and it is real only what is objectively visible, tangible space.
not celebrate Trieste, Bolzano did not celebrate, do not celebrate the precarious, not celebrating the unemployed. Do not celebrate those whose future neighbor is obviously gone to fuck off.
It celebrates the birthday of the people, not land and buildings. And 'the clarity of all to have been lost on the road.
Today I waste. And since I'm not going to take up his nose while the others will celebrate more fun. St. Patrick for example, or Baudelaire, or this relative truth, which I will not attempt to impose or to make an absolute.
But I'm sorry, the words of love, than no, I can just tell you.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Anniversary Card Funny Messages
Notro loved Dante in Canto V of the Inferno: " incominican Or the mournful notes .
http://www.amicafoggia.it/article/view/23/1/11
http://www.unioneconsulenti.it/article.php?sid=1748
How Much Does Stacy London
Certain images will remain as scars inside. Come together for you and they stay there. And you're living, pretending that I have never been hurt or touched by the events, without thinking about what could be and, thankfully, was not. Burn like salt, some time ... In those dark moments of sadness where you cry and you do not know that. They come suddenly, with their burden of silence. Because maybe that was the only time you had fear, the real one, what makes you think that you could lose. And lose it all. That fear makes you blood run cold and you choke the breath. And see her in the eyes of those who now cry, even if you have the presumption think that is the same. Some feelings do not spend more, certain sounds and silences and tears and the fears you carry around forever. Thinking it is a moment. A fraction of a second. Stop. Immutable. Eternal.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Papel De Parede Petter Rabbit
11/03/2011 03:13 AM
E 'futile reach, are useless smoke signals Irish and barbecues and rum to slap the inhibitions on the couches that turn into lise hospital bed on Sunday morning.
make me laugh when you do that when I bring out the sentimental side I swallow, but then you vomit on him. It makes me laugh for two hundred thirty-six km Brondi when my distances are more than three times two hundred thirty-six km. Why
seem to me that we are the type of people who always puts in the most unlikely in future without the city, projects unlikely. We have those problems exist, the reasons forced the rationality necessary and devastating. I am the one that burns the hair to hell as he tries to light a cigarette. 're The one that digs into my idiosyncrasies and it brings out the best and I studied his lips and whispers my name, to remind me who is there with me.
I that the number of sleepless nights in the bus, the pages were less than that of the hallucinating nights of thoughts passed from adolescence to dissect, deny that. And think about what we became, and amazingly, because I did not think there were other people besides me wonderfully interesting. Damned away from passers-by.
Because I do not know if we will be back so close, I'm not sure that we will not lose orgasms on the street, do not betray us with illusions of Friday evening. I did not steal ideas, do not make me tremble.
human remains that I would just like when we met, that there we lost behind the conventions and social protocols of the couples on the street.
That is not as easy as the other times that the words I take to the hair to potertele write, I fear you mistake me for a woman who are not.
You are the first that I built, six the same as first imagined, are the first for many situations that I have no desire to recall.
Meanwhile, fill the pages of Countdown, inflazionali values \u200b\u200bof the thoughts that we are dedicated.
Meanwhile deny connections, as if we would meet anyway, because we are too similar to think that we would not be able to enter the same pub, sit at the same table.
Please drowns in the lake of my eyes and drink my words.
Although not return.