I always wanted to write, less than journalist rather than author, mind share and discuss a little bit of me in all of those topics and put texts, which are treated as if there were more facts than feelings, too often such as dry toast thus it is usually other way around. Again and again I join me in this endeavor on the own tie, wonder where ever the borders are defined, which part of all thoughts should belong to only me alone, how much I should disclose, without slipping into the absurd and bring my privacy too much on the chapel. It not uncommon, that several hundred lines in your fingers tingle me although I put away not only at end to paper. Because something always blocked the most fear. While they should lifted 2016 out of my life.

Before a few weeks ago I sat with a columnist adored by me with cookies and tea to the table, my doubts encountered little or no sympathy. You will be never good when you sit in your own cage. Get out of there, be free. Explode. The words that sit in your head, leave to outside, owe them.

Now I’m sitting here in my kitchen, in the left hand burns a Parisienne. I smoke sometimes, because the time belongs to only me as long as it’s smoking. The Basil on the windowsill can hang the leaves, but compared to what’s out there, he is alive. Perhaps we are even similar. We both make it to work still pretty fresh in comparison with the total crap. And whenever the total drought threatens someone coming and flips us cold water in the parched throats. Hello, awake. Anything is better than Brown points by staying behind. I need to know it, because for a few months I woke up only, to put one foot in front of the next, the routine for the sake it works then like a Duracell monkey who has learned to strike with noisy pool against the Tristesse. Only one no longer endures the own noise at some point, actually it craves even for real peace. That came in the last year so surprising how suddenly, went faster again as it should. A stress related ulcer can be fairly easy in chess with good nutrition and small round-swallow stomach paving, hear the name pantoprazole. Unless the node is in truth in the head set instead of the belly.

A Saturday must have been just as now, as I sat in the same place, on the same Chair that long is shaking, just I had no cigarette firm, but the hand of a friend. You are beautiful. You’re smart. You’re important. Do you remember? It’s easy to advise someone else to let go his poisoned dreams, if you love. Just one love not enough to enforce changes in one’s life fearlessly; itself mostly also the certainty that everything needs to be different to be better, is often not enough. I spent many evenings with wise words, I really would have to set myself.

Basil people, those who can, languish long in front of him without really flabby, have a problem: them too fine. Somewhere deep in them, a such pronounced instinct of self-preservation is that the degree of neglect of its own claims is only visible if worries beetle ate fringed holes in the otherwise so juicy meat. Or in the soul. But even then the plantlet remains strong, it is simply in its pot until no more of him is left.

I patted just guilty on two dried leaves around and thought about whether it is ok to want more when you actually have everything when my phone suddenly started to talk with me from your pocket. After a few seconds of spontaneous certainty that I was probably finally caught on, I noticed relieved that my friend from the kitchen was on the other end of the line. I must have pressed the Redial button, maybe, but also the universe had a hand in the game. Could you please stop to pluck lethargic herbs around and instead move your life right? I’d back that this person, who seems the Sun from the bottom for 27 years. Thank you. Promised. And then I was telling a friend who makes it right.

I know someone who spends the week between the years regularly in a Schweigekloster and with quite a few thoughts about yourself. I took long to sadness was the reason, after all, just people would practice something that felt miserable dog or at least searched for the meaning of life. A pretty sober explanation of a simple as clever thought, followed by worried inquiries but always the shortly after he first was pronounced by my brain hunted down like a wrecking ball: people always think you would have to change something if everything sucks. But the vast majority are “in order”, they see no reason for change. I don’t want to be right. But scheibeverdammtglucklich.

I’m happy now without damn crap before, increase possible, but to do so it needs above all time and even routine. Even selected routine mind you, with more work, more LIO, more adventurous and less downtime. I live only with a boy and am single, but not a single parent. Lios father and I have managed to divide us, because we were perfect parents, but not a good couple in friendship. Since we know that the Brown areas are getting green. And sometimes we put even each other fresh basil on the pasta, in the certainty that our son is a child of love. We love each other just different now.

 

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Source: www.spinaltrapb2g.com

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Title-page photograph: Samuel H. Gottscho’s From River ...

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“ENTERTAINMENT AND FANTASY”: THE 1940 DINNER published ...

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Title-page photograph: Samuel H. Gottscho’s From River ...

Source: www.bsiarchivalhistory.org

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Title-page photograph: Samuel H. Gottscho’s From River ...

Source: www.bsiarchivalhistory.org

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Title-page photograph: Samuel H. Gottscho’s From River ...

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Title-page photograph: Samuel H. Gottscho’s From River ...

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“Because I Said So”: How to Support Adult Clients through ...

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