Ma San Valentín! Here is Carnival!
... But the lawyers are some gals romantic (sigh) and so we reproduce part of a text that is in Roland Barthes' A Lover's Discourse Fragments ", after the brief comment of its author.
"The discourse of love is now a solitude. These are words spoken may by thousands of people, but nobody says, is completely abandoned by the surrounding languages. Or ignored or dismissed, or ridiculed by them. When a speech is so driven by their own strength in the drift of the out of date, it remains only to be the place, meager as it is, in a statement. "
Waiting (text by Donald W. Winnicott, a pediatrician, a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst English *)
Waiting is an enchantment: I was ordered not to move. The wait for a phone call for bans is woven so tiny, the infinite, to the unspeakable: deprive me out Part of the bathroom, talking on the phone even (not to occupy the unit), I suffer if I phone (for the same reason), I crazy to think that such time will be necessary for me to close out, thus risking losing the so-called benefactor. All these entertainment
I would ask them to wait for lost time, impurities of anxiety. Since the anxiety of waiting, in its purity, he wants me to stay seated on a chair to reach the phone, doing nothing.
Am I in love?
"Yes, because I hope.
The other, he does not expect ever.
Sometimes I do not expect to play and I try to take care of other things, to arrive late;
but I always lose this game.
* Suck the tangerine!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Trailer Plans Blueprints Mediafire
"Believe" in the stars *
I've seen in the tide of this inland sea
fact months
daily on the moon in your eyes,
solar heat in your arms
tracing the wound on the skin
constellations that feeds your shoulders
full of melanin,
rest of my hands ...
I've seen in the slope of thy womb,
in the liquid crystal
of short tears, in the fiery
Palor of eternal thighs like snow ...
The stars just ordered the rhythm of things,
have memory and signs of what was and is.
Let the fanfare of their orbits,
leaves your skin with its mandate.
* Original untitled Hector Murena, Argentina (1923-1975)
I've seen in the tide of this inland sea
fact months
daily on the moon in your eyes,
solar heat in your arms
tracing the wound on the skin
constellations that feeds your shoulders
full of melanin,
rest of my hands ...
I've seen in the slope of thy womb,
in the liquid crystal
of short tears, in the fiery
Palor of eternal thighs like snow ...
The stars just ordered the rhythm of things,
have memory and signs of what was and is.
Let the fanfare of their orbits,
leaves your skin with its mandate.
* Original untitled Hector Murena, Argentina (1923-1975)
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Fat Womensitting In Stomach
Buzzing Around
Yesterday, as I needed for the Big Zipper cloth a little stained, I set to work.
I arm myself with a pot of black tea bags and boiling water and let the fabric resting a couple of hours. After that time, as I thought it was little stained, I boiled the water again and left resting another hour.
Result: (I think it is different before and after!)
Yesterday, as I needed for the Big Zipper cloth a little stained, I set to work.
I arm myself with a pot of black tea bags and boiling water and let the fabric resting a couple of hours. After that time, as I thought it was little stained, I boiled the water again and left resting another hour.
Result: (I think it is different before and after!)
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