Thursday, July 10, 2008

Medic Alert Lockets For Women

The horror of the vacant doctor


Yes, now be included in one of those who after having sweated blood on the books now look to the future with fear and a healthy dose of apprehension. Celebrations postponed ... During these days are frantic to find a way forward, I seem to be at the mercy of an unknown current while digging in the network and between the bureaucratic requirements to the discovery of a competition for a doctorate. I am leaning on my crystal ball telematics (my pc) ready to try to grasp the contours of a possible future that emerges from the milky sap of this uncertainty, but even the Pythia I could help (even if the leaves lanceolate moves carved by wind and its cryptic sentences may suit my mood).
Fixed Points there are, if not the ones you have as limits beyond which you just can not overcome even by gargantuan effort and the feeling that comes over me is to be one of those tragic heroes who are preparing to fight against the immeasurable. Well, if nothing else, in case of defeat, I could still enjoy the taste that I cut him a mask Alfieri even Sophocles. It matters little that I do not have to do with prophetic predictions, my monsters are no less frightening than the mythology ... Here's senseless cuts the university took the current government (a look of the Republic Article: http://www.repubblica.it/2008/06/sezioni/scuola_e_universita/servizi/scuola-2008-uno/ universita-agitata/universita-agitata.html ) go hand in hand with another terrible monster that I will have to overcome: the recommendation. Very few people, many of which are "reserved" for those who count .... I'm not afraid of challenges and I am quite convinced of my training (and, actually, not just me), but when you are asked to play a game of "rigged" you can not help but feel a bit 'dubious and dejected ... In short, I must say, I'd gladly change with the hydra of Hercules ...
So is not nothing but follow the directions of the Cheshire Cat and learn the art of walking on a thousand roads schizophrenic while in the hope that if the jets are so many that you love, sooner or later something edible bite. In conclusion
post a video of Max Cosmic "thousand € blues," though in reality my situation could be even more precarious ...

Friday, June 27, 2008

Kamehasutra Doujin French







September 5, 1938, the day was passed the first of the "racial laws" in Italy (for those interested I will leave some more news on this decree in the comments) .
Yes this is the date I am referring to and unfortunately still today, but particularly today, it seems to me far too close.

I imagine the easy criticism that might make it the opening words of my post: Fascism is past, the present situation is completely otherwise, my position is just a typical left-wing populist ...
In fact I will not answer to these objections because I feel silly as much as those who move, I'll just take a look at some recent events and to suggest connections with the past because if it is true that you must enter each event in its historical context without So to force it out of its chronological limits, but it is also true that we think that the past is completely unknown means reducing history to a simple fable, ignoring the essential lessons, just as it means not to understand that certain dynamics can reproduce in a similar way in different times when they are still the underlying causes.

The facts are really known, but I must talk about it because my silence would result in a repulsive silent assent and would make me feel complicit.
I am not referring here to single episodes of violence against the Roma, in itself deplorable, but the even more serious justification that they seem to receive under the proposed new law.
Have not you realize what is discriminatory and unconstitutional to consider the aggravating hiding? If all are equal before the law, how is it possible for the same offense, there are two weights and two measures, a more lenient when it is committed by an Italian citizen and higher if one is to perpetrate an illegal immigrant? Is it not this a form of discrimination and the worst? What's more, after the crime of illegal immigration, and Ronde Lega now it turns out the proposed Maroni to fingerprint all Roma! abberrante and terrifying, can not but bring to mind what happened in Italy at other times ominous ... To be honest I can not even comment despite my initial intention was to, on the other hand, these facts are eloquent enough in itself for those who have a minimum of brain ... well, at least this time, I just take note of the situation and to express my disagreement and my disgust. On top
post to find the video of a song by Caparezza "I come from the moon", below you will find a scene from "Gypo", a fantastic film which also deals with LGBT issues of intolerance against the Roma.


Sunday, June 15, 2008

My Mother's Nylon Feet

Today 1938 Tricks Of Writing


Hello to everybody, today I finally print the final version of the thesis, so I'll have a little 'more time to devote to the Blog!

I feel ready for almost a metaphorical Lazarus back to life .... eheheh ... However, the new association MINU offers as its first initiative in Piacenza, a creative writing workshop to LGBT issues.
The purpose of minute is to address the diversity of various cultures to establish a fruitful dialogue between the different perspectives that lead to discover the richness of differences. We intend to draw a path so that it deals with the ethnic diversity, disability and multifaceted continuum of generi.La included in our first initiative is a way to combine the theoretical elaborations of the participants and their experiences through the techniques of creative writing. For those interested in the workshop will be held in Piacenza at our office on June 20-21-22, while on the bed ensure reasonable prices. For any information on how to reach us please use the contact writings the bottom of the flyer, or ask me directly.

Greetings todos.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

How Long Does Listerine

KALEIDOSCOPE 10 - Conclusion?

Gabriel smiled at mo 'goodbye, closed the door behind him step by step and kept walking. D *** A *** reread the last sentence he had written, and then laid down his pen and looked toward the door where his nephew Gabriel had just left.
"Keep smiling son," he said.
Finish.

------------------------------------------------ ------------------------

At the end we are at home. Passed
; deleterious day, starting from the funeral, few people, some family and some colleagues uncomfortable, it can be well say that they came more for themselves than anything else, the self-imposed form of morality .... nothing wrong, after all, was how the implementation of a corporate strategy: functional to achieve its objective, it does not matter that it was some kind of financial transaction, or rather (as in this case) the possibility of blissful sleep tonight ..... fulfill a social role conventionally made them feel some better, even now they had made useful to the company / companies.
I watched them while they were lining up to extend my condolences to Gabri, employees seemed to me that they were going to have a punch, but I could not tell me nothing .... in truth I was not very different from them, I was there to perform a function.
Gabriel was still very shaken, on the other hand he had found the body of his father, Michele .... apparently a heart attack. The next day had past history do not know what to write for the death of his father, to me seemed a good idea, even though the story seemed to me un'indigesta and heavy jumble of thoughts without rhyme or reason, but this off she would not confess even under torture.
Every now and then touched her hand, he turned and tried to smile, his eyes were shiny, his hair soft, and embraced him during his funeral bouquet teased my imagination, I had an erection .... Eros and Thanatos .... no, I was not different from those other people .....


I leave the bathroom, he's lying in his underwear, clapping him on the mattress, a few moments and we find ourselves naked on the bed, I savor a kiss, I close my eyes, I remember our first kiss that night in a farm ...



There was a concert by a friend of mine, someone had submitted a part of me shuddered ... his smile had dissolved the world around me and I revel in uneven perceptions "Back-Luke" I was only able to say that the language seemed to stumble on every syllable.
I, terrified, upset, I wanted to steal that smile and hold it in your pocket to be able to gaze furtively wherever I went.
During the concert I did not see more, lost in the crowd of people dancing. A few beers later I had lost hope to meet him again, a bit 'sadly I was heading to the fields to piss.
The lights of the farmhouse behind me, music is now weak.
lying on the grass I see a shadow, sometimes dissipated from a solid color .... cadenced fire, it almost seems to have its own rhythm.
The shadow slowly turns and smiles at me
"Want a hit?" eyes were accustomed to the darkness, I admit, he is the man as he turned I saw her smile so blooming in the moonlight, I remember thinking at the flowers that bloom in the evening. I sit beside him, talking for a while ', our faces are close, I can feel the caress of his breath on my neck when he turns to me. The lips are close slowly. The kiss. Suddenly I feel all over again, the wet grass beneath me, the rustle of clothes, the faint smell of beer in his kiss. It was a kiss dirt. The most savored with a taste for this. We detach slowly. I get close to his ear and whisper: "I have stolen a breath, but you can resume whenever you want," she laughs, looks at me incomprehensible, "Look who I want it back with interest ...."
I take one of his hands in mine and me to his lips. The moonlight illuminates small ink smudging. He notices my eyes .... "Sperm is" he laughs, I remain somewhat perplexed .... "The ink is the sperm of the writers ".... Perhaps this time is the right one .... is my last thought, then I let my hands continue their scavenger hunt ...





... mumble creaking of the bed, then a fire inside, his back in an arc voltage, I rise on him, the body is sweating, my muscles contract before relaxing as a wave after the transition, I lay me down softly, our fingers are intertwined.
Gabriel gets astride me, her sheets writhing on the ground in a bad way; clothes scattered around the room seem to trace the steps of a broken frozen choreography at its finest ... a deeper breath, I am on the chest. Yes
was just a fucking twelve-tone.
He bends to kiss me, I passed a hand on his chest, his fingers dripping watch "How many people have abortions spreading throughout This special?" ride enough to get us two or three novels I would say "we hug .... the light veil of his beard tickles my forehead, his novels m'invischiano the body .... is just right before I fall asleep ....