3d Apartment Extreme Inca

DANCE ... DEBORAH


The dance hall is a nightclub with wrinkles where older people can choose to fill the dance lover or a life to live.
It usually begins with the first alternative. Inevitably comes the second, then subsequent replies and you are likely to become of the remnants of that dance hall, beyond the pun, have hearts that are adrift in every port stranding. Recognizable by symptoms before looking at the remains of dancehall-man or woman-have chronic and contagious disease.

But, of course, is not always the case.

She danced with the innocence that is in every happiness.
He looked at her with a sense of who knows how to seize these essences. In
diverse mix of dance hall, was what distinguished them and they shared, in addition to signs that the golden age of beauty changes, but does not cancel.

inevitable meeting, the attraction and feelings. From

womanizer of dance hall, she caught the lure without paying a pledge. And yet surrendered to him without even a skirmish, with the candor of those who believe in love.
Or, more simply, it seemed to find both in looks, words and gestures have lived and loved.

"You In a sweet phrase" had asked him to play.
"Later, if you want, you can come to my house," replied she simply.

Only a prostitute or an angel could respond in that way, and knowing the prostitutes, he thought an angel.
Angels, means those lands, are inspired to speak candidly because they believe in family, among the angels. And he pretended angel.

Maybe you fell too much in character because of love, he only tried ecstasy, magic, the excitement. Not the report or pleasure.
"I like to watch you dance", she said, "I remember our meeting magic."

And she danced, danced, almost every day, with several dancers, whirling like a sail in the sea, as cloud in the wind. How to bait the hook.

When he could, he went with her and danced or watched her dancing with her dancers and celiare staying on the sidelines with his heart in his pocket.

So for weeks and months. Her to the ball and he to his commitments. Their infrequent meetings, chaste and sweet.
Until one day while watching the dance, he was seized with a strange uneasiness. She tried her heart, which usually stood by but did not find him and soon discovered that the man's expression belt in dance: a guy fascinating and alien to the dance hall.

When he emerged from the heart sink, I was relieved. He knew that sooner or later would happened. It was inevitable, fatal rule of dancehall. He himself had helped to give shape to the event without their love. He had done it to protect her, because she knew that their relationship could not last lame and wanted to avoid the disillusionment, which is the first stage of the infection that leads to surpluses dance hall like him. Sex

complete love, but it contaminates a little and he was unable to merge the two. Maybe that's why he did not know how to love others. But nothing, until then, had passionate love as much as uncontaminated. That brief period was the most exciting of his life. The final exclamation point. But

leftovers a dance hall are still sentimental and, as such, they can not reconcile the beating heart with the coldness of mental calculation.
Thus, the disillusionment of abandonment that he had avoided her, fell on him. And slowly, his body began to sprout sadness. Like a flower bloomed and swelled its petals lead sinking roots in the depths of his being.
He put the flower in a letter thanking her for everything that had meaning for him. You said what was left of his soul and when he closed the bag, he seemed to end his life.

High Closed Cervix During Period

...


People keep asking me about my daughter. That's what happens when you do not simply enter and exit from a hospital.

Today is the turn of Mrs. Gina
wearing a pretty dress cornflower blue. The falls well, if it were not for those long folds that always end up stuck under the tires of his wheelchair. He has played
eighty, and I know a third of his life. He lives down the street.
I can still remember walking in the garden, watering the orchids. A real treat for the eyes. He does not long ago, and orchids are wilted.

always asks Deborah. All
ask Deborah.

"You fell down the stairs," I reply.
"We been gouged out with twelve stitches."

Everyone is calling, nobody really listens.
is a little unfortunate, Deborah. The
always something going on.

The last time was in November. It was raining hard, and Francesca, my wife was away for a conference. Deborah stood quiet in the room. She played with her dolls.
His favorite is named Rita. It has two long braids and a red dress with peasant. Every time I hear them talking from the living room.
I can never understand what you say, but I do think that they speak of the mother. That's because Rita is an orphan, and Deborah decided to adopt it.

seemed a day like any other. A typical winter day.
Then a big thud, came from her room.
I found her passed out, head to head with Rita. The
immediately wrapped in a bundle. It was frozen. Outside it was cold, very cold.

The streets were deserted, and my Audi reached the hospital in no time.
Dr. Ponticelli, after a thorough examination, he told me that he had a low blood sugar. Laboratory tests ruled out immediately for signs of juvenile diabetes.
is the best hospital in the city, the Misericordia e Dolce, the harbor always there when something happens.

"Please keep her under control."
We returned home the same day.

happens often. Now I've got used to. A bit ' everyone has done. Deborah now wonders when nothing happens.
This was the night of Christmas Eve. Deborah had come back recently, he was fine in its way. We dined in
family. All the relatives gathered.
not talking about anything else.
My brother brought her a teddy bear. Deborah plunged us into. It was immense. All you care about her.

I had to give up the job. Deborah can not go to school. I have to provide teaching, just as did my mother.

is a very obedient child. I never ever scold her.
I tell them all, makes me proud.
Everyone helps me in his way. These are the people
around me, give me the strength to continue.

"It's brave, Mr. Carlesi, hold hard."

Sometimes it is more difficult than usual.
Like the time she thrust her hand into the blender. Did nothing but cry, and blood was everywhere. It took almost six months to reconstruct the hand.

At that time I spent my days in the hospital.
In the corridors of the Hall of plastic surgery, I ask everyone to Deborah. Even strangers. It's a lucky girl, has many people around. I hope that one day will understand how important this is and how much it cost me. All


ask Deborah.
But they do the wrong questions.
This is because, in reality, no one wants to know her, even though everyone keeps asking.

There is a clinical hospital of the city where I was born. She says I am suffering from Münchhausen Syndrome. But no one knows. No one has ever heard of. All

ask Deborah.
But they should ask me.
Then I would know that I pushed down the stairs, that I gave the insulin to make it faint, and that was only when I found the courage to break his hand in the blender. All


ask Deborah. But no one knows his history, our history. We become guilty when we stop to ask why of things. Indifference condemns us all.

There is an invisible wall between us and others. In a matter of trying to overthrow it: instead of asking all of Deborah.
Exactly as before, asked me.
I also had a teddy bear. His name was Eddy. I spoke with him was when his mother did nothing but repeat myself to shut up ..

Tokyo Where To Buy Women' Clothes

Patience

(photo by Garima)

Gift of Christmas (ie Santa Claus)

Our behavior, our reactions to the facts of life, our emotions that we are characterizing the result of early experiences that hit you and you formed in the early years.

For vicissitudes of the family, I lived in 'childhood with his grandparents, along with grandparents, these two sons, my uncles, older than me and that ultimately were the idols of my comrades and be children. The grandparents had a stationery business in the country; store full of pencils, pens, notebooks and books. I often wandered among the shelves, and piles of school supplies. Of course, these toys were also given at that time there were no large shopping malls, the store was the place where you could see objects of your dreams. He also witnessed the ordination of the material in advance, as any good shop, the seasons were still very early, and the material was ordered Christmas in summer than in spring. Living in this environment of school supplies made me learn right away the issues of trade, opening and closing hours, reservations, sales and the classic "note", the earliest of times to the modern-rate loan "zero".

At the same time was like living in the world of toys, because child as having all children see packs of rifles, pistols, toy soldiers, toy cars were easy to express desires with the most classic of letters to "Santa Claus".

A special Christmas memory today, I had seen a particular gun the colt as the legendary Wild West, I loved to death, she was beautiful, with the kick that seemed enormous, and the trigger all chrome.

was the object of my desires. The viewer with dreamy eyes every day waiting for the classic Christmas Day. Diligently on the letter I described the gun of my dreams, beautiful shiny silver with the trigger like the one that is in the shop window of her grandmother, (my grandmother was the stationery rather than the grandfather).

finally arrived that year 's Christmas and I still remember the anxiety of waiting the day at lunchtime, when I already knew that the front entrance door to the sound of the bell I found a package inside with the legendary gun (it was the custom of the house grandmother for Christmas).

Living regularly in contact Anymore (grandparents and uncles), I was too shrewd, I now understand that Santa was not a true gentleman, and that much more realistic about the Santa Claus was the uncle who was to take the best gift at the right time in the world.

Finally it's time for lunch and before you all sit down at the table here is the bell, I rush to the door open and there is a package, a box, everything as expected, Santa Claus I was happy, happy at the height ; open ... and disappointment disappointments is not mythical gun!

There was another toy that does not even remember, and my despair seems to have been a roar of time, not because I had began to cry, no, but because my face must have all worried, mother, uncles, grandparents and especially my grandmother.

Great they talk, I despair with the broken heart I do not know what to do, is mortally wounded I do not know what to say, think, shout or shut up. His grandfather had taught me that you should never complain, and then I carefully pushed back the tears back, my face was a mask of pain. The uncle spoke, that had happened when you pick up the gun from the window, a man introduced himself (we say today that for the last time) he was looking for a gift for his son, and had found a nice idea that shiny pistol polished. My uncle had thought to do the sale, not thinking at all to his nephew, who was waiting for so that your pistol. Store the rest as you could order another piece, what was the problem?

So it went, grandparents and uncles were also speaking, because after I was taken by the wholesaler supplier, even in person to see and choose the gun, of course, that same gun was gone, many other models were available but not that one, and in fact I was caught in another, perhaps even more beautiful, but not one that I had cherished, looked for so long.

I think this was the episode I did learn painfully what patience, what is to be disappointed and what is "not to complain." I think it was the moment when I realized that no matter how much you want one thing, the life you will always have something different, perhaps similar, but always different from what you immagni and dreams.

I was a child at that time but I think it started my journey to the difficulties, and perhaps it was the prelude to all the difficulties that I met and was the school that now leads me to say patience.

Patience when something goes wrong, patience when something is not exactly like the dreams, patience when you do not get what you feel right, patience when life presents you the bill, patience when I am consumed in and you can not do anything to change, patience when you're feeling bad and nobody can do anything, patience when someone you love hurts you , patience when you do not find what you want and are looking desperately. Never mind the words of my life from that day he beat the shots of my heart.

I am unable to say whether it was a good lesson or a bad example that Christmas, in fact it was my reality, which I brought in until the days of the Internet, shopping centers, department Megastore, galleries of assorted super stores, the wonderful catalogs. But especially to the days when feelings emotions, desires and dreams present, as in that Christmas Day, shall be deposited in waiting to see an outcome, a turning point, a result, now as then there's anxiety to hear that bell door, anxious to hear it and rush to see what's there, what has arrived, and of course there is the fear of ancient origins, the terror of seeing to empty all the desires and illusions, fear of finding opening the door, something that is not as hoped and desired.

Days when you dream you want and then as now, that day, despite the "modernism" have the same things forty years ago, the same situation of a child who dreams and wants what it sees as a beautiful object and indispensable, and are days when the man feels inside when he sees what is missing and there in a beautiful display case: his dream.