Pain In Arm When Push Up

Why this blog?

Someone - I forget who and under what circumstances - told me once that the grammar is a bit 'as a leash of language: it is not escape, to regulate, to curb the irreducibly anarchic temperament. Beautiful image, I thought, imagining a woman in the act of forceful and authoritarian resist pulling a dog over-excited when it tries to drag it - she and her heels - in the mud.
Now, though personally I do not like to dirty my hands, I know the call of the mud, for dogs and language, is irresistible. We can educate them, bind them, maybe even punish them, but the day we leave them alone (The language and the dogs) is very likely going to roll in mud happy and carefree. Not only is part of their nature, but demonstrates their viability. A dog that does not stink is not a real dog. A language that does not get dirty is not a real language.

What is it then the leash? Throw it away? Do not exaggerate. Let's say that you should use it only when needed, when it brings the language for a walk in the most exclusive or between the pages of a book written. For the rest, just make sure that does not bark too much, and especially not bite.

This long preamble to introduce the blog, which is a bit 'the extension of the book where you see the cover on the side. A book which tells of a grammar and without heels, without a leash. A book that explains that those who barks really are the purists of Sunday, the "neo-bran lash out because they would like to see that the language always candid and disinfected. A book in which dozens of topics are addressed but are left out hundreds. This blog serves to fill this gap. And to trigger debate.

Will Grecian Formula Work For Women

L 'human existence is all the less comprehensible the more it grows every day the evidence of his utter inconclusiveness

ON AIR: How leaves, Malika Ayane
keep thinking that mankind is embarrassing. It 's more powerful than me, but I just can not help it. This does not make me an unfit asocial hopeless [at least not completely]: I can smile at people, I am kind, I speak with people, even go to the gym and I do not think there is a place most promiscuous talking about social relations and human contacts. Nevertheless, in secret, in my underwear, I fight against humanity: I can not even unconsciously of sided with him. And I know who is thinking suicide, self harm, even not very intelligent: I am part of mankind, by God. I also have a birth certificate: I can try. But I must essermene pulled out a some point in my life. And maybe go back to be part of it is not possible, perhaps - as some might say - who has seen the truth [and I've seen distinctly] can not be saved. Salvation is to feel part of everything. And I hate to feel part of everything. Although, in most cases, it would be much more comfortable: the sense of belonging inevitably makes life easier. Even if you are part of a minority of the people or the 'controtuttoetutti', however it is aware of belonging to a group, a group of people who have common characteristics or at least common goals. I'm not part of anything, in spite of myself I belong to the human race and live a strange one - existential chronic disease - a sense of inadequacy. Or estrangement, I do not know. And do not even know why I'm saying this now: it might be a little 'pathetic and - I swear - is absolutely not my intent. I'm fine with myself and with my superiority complex . But I happen to feel uncomfortable. Here in the world, among people who do not understand a shit [why is this: people just do not understand a shit], I feel uncomfortable. More for the world and for people that for me, I must say. But sometimes for me, for the person that I find myself having to manage: it is not easy to deal with me.

However, twenty I graduate in April. 'S official, definitive and very, very close. I hope that everything goes well, it's a beautiful day, that the Board is human, that the shoes do not hurt me, that I happen to stumble in, that my ass does not look like a bulky foreign body, that My hair is not at the mercy of my hormones, that my diction is not bad as usual, that the prof. both friendly and accommodating, that my be incredibly nice, he's perfect [and I know that it will be, because he - in his own way - it is] that there is too many people, that my legs did not tremble, that all the world will stop being the useless jumble of shit and to obey the laws of physics which is entirely to my every wish and magically make that day a perfect day.

And then he took me to Barcelona. And I - just - I'm happy. Because that saying before, that the sense of strangeness, that is always but with one exception. And that exception, as they have not fully conscious, is making me a better person. A smiling with your eyes, for example. A sleeping peacefully [and does not wake up even with an earthquake, unless the exception is not the intimate getting out of bed]. And that does not have to wait for the next wave of pain to feel real.

I hope that God does not exist. But, if any, really wrong job.


This damn nostalgia.

Bulk Chcken Wings Denver

... I love my details, trying to find vaguely quiet [and I can, at times] ...

ON AIR: Times They Are A Changing, Bob Dylan
whole world must know: you have to spread the word. And when I say I mean the verb: q HIS .

If all goes well, I graduate in April. The thesis proceeds. Sounds like The advent of center-left weekly in the pages of Today . That, perhaps, that it does not say anything. And, perhaps, also called coli. But I think it's important to understand as reasons, and - above all - how he reasoned the moderate people, what they buy, "the weekly magazine of the Italian family, in an Italy upside down, lying, sleeping, destroyed, hungry, angry [no, not about Masini], placid , ugly to see and live. I'm trying not to be trivial. One time I found it natural. Do not be, I mean. Now I do not know.
Sometimes, my grandmother seems to me much younger than me. I mean, you always want to leave. Not me. Almost never, I guess.

I want a beautiful pair of shoes. And they are very high. Also because otherwise, in addition to graduate, with that I'll wear the robe I'll end up making even cleaning around the corridors of Luiss. It'll be well topple moderate: they are willing to take the risk. So I'd like a beautiful pair of shoes that gives me a little 'sense of omnipotence.
Yes, some shoes can do. It 's a thing that men can not understand. But - I swear - that's right. It is to say, although I'm not the biggest fan of the female gender on the square. Indeed, we can say that I am the most bitter enemies. Indeed, let us say that it sucks. Indeed, let us say that I hate as a woman.

I sleep. Very sleepy. And I disconnected thoughts.

Please. Let's go. Enthusiasm - at least a little - And we're off. And then give me permission to feel happy. Please.

And the present now will soon be the past.

Miniature Pinscher Diarrhea Treatment

The acquisition of firm boundaries does not make it back to reality: the reality does not exist, the reality is a mental construct ...

ON AIR: Blue Smoke, Mina
I want to be great. I want desperately to grow up.



a deep breath. And that's it. Just think, no, you do not want me, I want you, you more, I do less, you do not, I always you that voice, I those tears, you're doing that, I m'affogo in the city but so much the rest are pathetic, pathetic. It does not work that way. Not everything revolves around the insecurities that I have built a mo 'of crutches for my insecurity. We bow at the altar of Euripides nothing. Not after a clear choice. Why you have chosen, my beauty, your choice. So stop [stop] not to seek confirmation of the perhaps not: the horizon I was profiled clear, under the eyes. You said yes, baby [you said yes, you cried and you have repeated yes]. Just pretend that there is still the possibility of a choice. It is esistinta. Gone, dissolved. Or perhaps never existed, except in your little ego [stupid ego] in fossilized hint of farewell. A deep breath. And that's it.




[I graduate? Dunno, I have not written a word. But the way I do. the Christian family in memory of the resistance (1958-1963). no, nothing to do with popes and nuns. are not Catholic, I do. But so it is useless to say it. no point in talking about the exploitation of a civil war to justify the opening to the left of surviving men do not know whether to themselves, fascism or your hypocrisy.]





And [then] if a man knows how to smoke
but yes [but you] is really a man.