Wednesday, October 13, 2010
How Does Pro Line Work For Odds
Monday, October 11, 2010
Vista-ati-radeon-xddm
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Christmas Placemat Ideas
be honest: the writing on the walls, especially when they are just scribbles on the buildings, I do not very polite. However, I must admit that sometimes have a kind of fascinating ...
As an inscription found by chance on a bench in Martyrs Square in Pisa.
In my wanderings through the streets of the city following a tourist map, I have found in this square. Even just the name fascinated me: Martyrs of Liberty ... It gave me a sense of emotion. Then, the sky was gray, the air smelled of rain and this place was so charming with the flower beds surrounded by green leaves yellow autumn of the plane trees that slowly undress ... My son wanted to stop to enjoy such great beauty.
There were several benches. I chose one at random. It was filled full of writing, as well as others. Not to think to myself, I started to read some.
will be written in the style I liked talking about himself (the calligraphy, the contrast of white on this blue of the bench) is that I was in a state of mind open to honey extraction, which will I had been hit hard and I wanted to find somewhere else to confirm that romantic love really exists, is that in the words that I read it I saw a bit 'of my situation and I felt close to the author ... however, one of the writing struck me so much that he wanted to capture in a photograph.
I leave you with this picture, without saying anything more.
Christian Faith Phrases
This time the style a bit 'bohemian hired him away from home, away from Rome.
Pisa, Lungarno Pacinotti 21:30 h approximately.
I'm here, sitting cross-legged on the wall above the River.
Tonight is the apotheosis of the style Doom: coming out here to a crowd of unrequited love; around with a backpack and a suitcase without having found a place to sleep.
It 's the first time that I take and I leave for a city, so, out of the blue, without telling anyone, just a few friends, and with no plan in detail the journey.
I feel alive.
Even if the night is sad (and that's what makes me really damn), I feel alive.
For the first time I listened to my crazy part, the part that is not their ignorance, but place (was not listening all that carefully filed). Today I wanted to listen to and follow.
Even though my heart is broken tonight, I do not regret my gesture. Masochism?
No, this is life.
The adrenaline of doing something new, unknown ...
The excitement at seeing his eyes ...
The pain of a love one-way ...
The sense of adventure in the search for a hotel now complete ...
This is life.
And I'm living.
Now they are on this wall, writing under a lamp and a cigarette between his lips.
tonight I'm a dead poet.
I like it so much ...
and rethink what has been, to what are now here, now, I smile widens dropping this cigarette.
How good will, between some time this evening to remember.
Among a bit 'of time (not much or as little as I know), this story will make me smile.
For now, I still light up a cigarette ...