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concert season paragraphs

Some people never been to a concert. That's something I can not understand. To me going to hallucinate, since I see the notice in robamaster, sack the bills, buy, I hope, I see the previous media interviews, and the day of the concert I Prepare, I check the gasoline car, plan a strategy for reaching the time, we lose nothing, nothing. The concerts are what I call it investment. The only time I spend money I do not regret, because it always worth the effort.
The first concert I ever went to was that of Alanis. I was a loyal fan, is that the jagged little pil l was something else and 96 left the shit everywhere. I was accompanied by my mother - I have no idea where it comes from so patient mother - who then bought me a Coke at the exit of Caupolicán. I went to see everything, the truth, I have been arriving early, arriving late, running for the first song is starting. And this year, recounting, I went like five concerts. Although undoubtedly the most anticipated by me, J and many more, is the Salmon: tomorrow.
remember to give when he went to see Björk and felt strange, anxious. I feel the same. There are songs that make me mourn Andrés, singing, screaming, going crazy, jumping, whatever. And tomorrow, from row 17 in vip top - what more cumbersome name - I see him up close, listen and scream like sick to lose my voice. Can not wait until tomorrow, why wait to see sing Calamaro.

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Letters Jennifer told these months we came hard. And I know very well because it was behind the pack, half drunk, but happy, predicting futures. I told him that each was going to start doing their own searches, slowly draw something like the future, but that would prevail our great love. And I turned twenty-two and now we are, as always, but outside of a corporate building where the guards were watching us, thinking we were going to infiltrate Copesa, steal a print of the year is at the entrance, killing a couple of journalists and then run to the subway Ñuble Santiago push to fit in the empty spaces underground void. Happy would have strangled the guy who told us of the goodness of calorie salads of summer, which would allow us to hold the line or at least decency. As if this were not enough to buy shoes that break your feet and try to combine the classic black trousers with a blouse lost in the closet. We got the idea, I think, to meet at happy hour, as vile office, to talk of life as it is passing between little cigars happenings motivators. Unless your presence always excited me, despite the vicissitudes and taxis, I do not want to work and summer I do not want to miss. In the meantime, I dream that we spend a few days of sun, walking on the beach and small last vacation. Sofia

gives second chances, Daniela back on track, things look balanced again.
balances always do when I turn the year and now I forgot, a little overwhelmed by his responsibilities, but clearly thought that on Wednesday, when I went to sleep. It was a busy year, but so good. Since the summer, when we found out shortly Benjamin, now we want to dress to get lots of pictures. The comings and goings of Jen and her inexhaustible desire to believe in that being that finally ended in love and began to forget. Still, I owe an apple kuchen and tea mango. Do not know who you got nothing, because they get paid. Then, Daniela seemed to disappear from the record, until we meet again. And so we passed by the Department of Abate throwing sweets and reconciling with our short years, work, friendship and love, until today where we breathe more relieved. I can not think what else we can expect, except benefits. After a tough year, we can not earn less.

Nadine Jensen Hard Core

What have we done with our twenties?

While Amy Winehouse gets drunk, takes drugs, wants to commit suicide, composes, sings flawlessly and becomes famous, meets only 24 or 25 years, Jen thought what a good thing we did to our 21 and 23 years, considering that Ms. Winehouse already has two discs. Then we realized that we did very little. And although we can say we get drunk from time to time, we can not say we're too contribution. So we'll see.

the meantime, this song with a curious resemblance to the performed by Marvin Gaye.

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outstanding passers


J wants to paint her room green. S claims it has too many outstanding on your list and I happen also. Pending proceedings, examinations medical outputs. I would say we open one evening in The Island, but given our addiction to drink fledgling low-cost, we opted for the ban. S started with jogging and padding. Category: pending. To date, P - former racing partner - reminded me of the commitment made last year after running the 10k and get busted, but crossing the finish line with a number behind. We were not the last. I remember that I was going to buy shoes ideal for jogging, pending today. P motivated me and now I promise you I'll fly and run 10 kilometers in record speed. I hope not to add to my To Do list. But that November day, alas, we were happy. Quit smoking, got off a couple of kilos with the training and we say that we ran. We were encouraged by go go dancers, and an old gatorade at the point of banging on pots, which came to cheer on the runners with little encouragement and moral void. Arrived. If even the ancient Hermogenes went our separate ways. Or we move to Velasco, whom the ladies flattered by his good leg. Have fun. After we ate oranges and bananas and we gave massages on the legs. Fortunate decision was waxing the day before, though not remember the beginner who assisted me and made me say "please, I'll pay, but let me go," He looked at me sadly and said "this has already happened to me before " and told him the reason seemed obvious.
I had fun. With P leave the alcohol for a little season and late-night, to be in good condition. One day I was going to quit, but the promise was to adorn the list yet. Now that I pulled two wisdom teeth, take advantage of the momentum and cleanse my lungs and, in passing, my stressed heart. Oh. The electrocardiogram pending.
Some things, however, I've been striking out and I like that. Remember, J, I said that one day end up doing something, perhaps guided by an irrational or pure starting bacana that would seize me in an instant? Well, I did. I followed advice, bandaid Gatica, so I can not reproach me.
I calendaricé from here to run on 11 November. I have evidence, papers, a French test that overwhelms me and one in El Mercurio that worries me less than it should. I have birthdays, mine included, and a long list of outstanding, today, I'll start to cross because my heart is fragile and stressed and I want to prevent heart break at the most ridiculous day. I will lend hands to J to paint her room, moving furniture, I hated to break this collage, though she holds dear, and maybe we can go and change diapers to B and so we crossed another slope and S help already should be getting used to maternal tasks delegated P, also stressed.
I will catch up with St and go to visit M and their children who must be giants, I'm going with my grandmother to the movies, because we have pending for almost a month and I'm giving my mother something nice for her birthday . I sleep to begin tomorrow, Monday and diets - which also should start, the eternal yet - to see if I can finish what you owe and stop filling the post earrings that hit and hit it on my calendar multicolor.

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The imminent arrival of Benjamin has troubled us. The cell phone on all night waiting for the call signaling that it's Aunt Sophie, the child takes after his mother, they're happy, we leave shortly for the celebration at the hospital in Santa Rosa Av Matta, I He reminded the strange circumstances that have been coming to the world my friends, my dear and me. Product irregularities, wrong calculations, the chances, we appeared to (over) populate a hostile world, a city growing dark, a house increasingly employed. With Jen are convinced that motherhood is not ours and, finally, our wandering life responds to fear of the enormous responsibility that means bringing a baby into the world and fear to undo the worst traumas and pains. We are daughters of bystanders, who occasionally wander through the house, and mothers who have had to deal with the fact of being alone most of the time. For better or for worse, the father figure seems a phantom penalty and pull their feet when sleeping, bothering other week. I think Benjamin and Pamela that, given the same stubborn hazards, must raise her child with a parent who is not what would be expected and, under the logic of "is what you get" you must manage a lot like other women as our mothers, aunts, neighbors and grandmothers. Nothing new, small.
the weekend I went to the beach. Amir went for a walk with and visited our old home in El Quisco. Yours, and fenced with alarm, looking straight into the sea. My grandfather's, where I spent most of my childhood, he looked worn, a horrible color and looked nothing like the huge house they went every summer until I was twelve and I had a garden full of limes, cardinals and peaches. In this house once almost suffered a couple of accidents. My brother almost swallows the earth - in a completely literal sense - and I almost drowned in the pool. On both occasions my father saved us. I looked at the house with nostalgia and remembered the photos I found over time, old socks, yellow socks. We were happy. Quite happy. Then I realized the errors we have made, lack of forgiveness, impossible to forget, pride and pain brought us over time. I do not know what would have preferred time is right: the passer or the absence of my father. I think
Pamela and Benjamin and the horde of aunts who just want to give love and to avoid under all circumstances to suffer, you feel alone, you do not think is important or it was a mistake. A Benjamin hopefully with open arms and a mountain of love just to be happy. For your memories, when you have our twenties, are full of good times and values \u200b\u200bthe effort and love of his little mother, his aunt is not going to take your eyes off of her young Grandma and friends in Sofia you see in this small opportunity to slowly claimed the possibility of meeting girls who believed that love could be and that we could design our own families without pay the penalties upon us. I like you, Jen, and I share your words say more than I think the same. We hope to Benjamin because he will change the life of one of our best friends, because you've been dreaming about for nine months and excited because he has called for us to recognize the face of little Benjamin on the computer screen and it has its mouth, according to us and, finally, the love of a lot of women for he will not be a bystander more at home, but will be the most important.

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The story of my old

J oseph Miguel Cares and his days in jail

"I was happy when he returned to democracy"

That Tuesday September 11, 1973, José Miguel and Rodrigo went to the School Cares Francisco Andres Olea, on Avenida Matta, as usual. Before 11, life went on between the scarcity and instability that had been installed in the lives of many of the Chileans at the time. When you were lucky, a neighbor invited them receiving merchandise to choose some extra parts, what they meant, a couple of times, starting out driving a car with the doors just closed, an angry crowd that demanded behind .

At age eleven, José Miguel played with a ball gutted and shared a pair of slippers with Rodrigo, his brother four years younger; addition of a bicycle and memories of childhood a department of the whereabouts of Santa Rosa, place they called "the people." Sometimes José Miguel returns to the streets, sometimes. Sometimes talking with friends who stayed there on other occasions visit to Claudio, who climbed mountains and Toño, who returned from exile with a gringo accent, long hair loose, and a curious look of modern hippie.

That September 11 José Miguel felt noise. I saw people running from one place to another, puzzled. Vicente, his father went looking for the brothers to school, to hide in your home. Meeting, the two children and his father climbed the roof of the building. Along with the neighbors, would how steamed the Currency, while in the sky passing aircraft and helicopters, firing.

Fear, then, was a constant. Some neighbors were missing. Other anonymous, were discovered on Santa Rosa Avenue tomorrow, his body open, scattered through the streets without order or direction. José Miguel grew to escape the bullets that crossed the departments, neighborhood and its people.

The years at the State Technical University

1981, Lorraine and Claudia had been integrated into the family. The latter, daughter Teresa Vicente, the maid of the house where he lived with Sonia until 1985, when she left him and moved to the Department of Avenida Portales, with their three children in tow and a marriage to be left in oblivion .

José Miguel, seventeen years, first joined the State Technical University to study civil engineering. "The thing was so polarized because many people had left. FUAN existed, which was infiltrated in the UTE group, which had blows. The day of the coup killed many people, but then calmed down. There was tension, but at that time what they did was to expel, suspend. " A year later know for sure what Balbontín Jorge O `Ryan, president-designate, was able to do for the country and the safety of the university.

In this hostile climate, José Miguel he managed to meet with Gina, her partner then and current wife, in your spare time. The hours passed in the University or in the Quinta Normal, where it is located - until now - the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Chile, where he studied Gina Medical Technology. They met in the summer of `Quisco 79 by the vicissitudes of life and, except for sporadic events, not further separated.

Seventeen days

Pancho worked as an administrator of a local fruit in the Central Vega. Thanks to that work, managed to buy a car, a Daihatsu Cuore. He delivered on September 10, 1982. Feliz, left for people to show it to your friends and invite them to eat chickens Manina, in Portugal Avenida Matta. Despite the warnings, José Miguel, Claudio, Toño, Alexis and two friends went out that night Pancho. "We took a few drinks, we ate, we were like at 11. We were singing some songs from the radio, when we saw that a car started following us and shoot us. Pancho where he turned, stopped and began to argue with the guys who got out of cars. "

Once down, they saw the men - can not remember how many - were shooting into the sky, the ground also. They made them lie on the street, beat them. Against the wall, they applied current. They checked the car and then taken to the police station. They put them next to boxes pamphlets and Molotov cocktails. Had been loaded. "We were seven people in that car. The boxes that we were accused of carrying not fit in the car, even without us inside, "he recalls with a laugh. With several charges against the detainees brought to the Public Jail Santiago. One of them, that even today amazes Jose Miguel, was the charge of attempting to overthrow the military government.

passed by the First and Fifth station. Then they arrived at the jail that was located in Pedro Montt and was demolished in the early 90's, for its dilapidated state and the narrowness of its facilities. Eight years before the final closing of the prison, Jose Miguel and his six friends spent seventeen days of uncertainty behind bars.

Terrorists

"I do not know how, but when you get to jail everyone knows why you're there. The terrorists told us, and that I have never taken a gun in my life, "he says, while Gina takes a cup of tea to the table.

At the entrance of the first police found a pair of prostitutes who were leaving. Through the window threw papers with phone numbers and asked them warning. That's how the seven families and the entire population, they learned the fate of the boys. Sonia told Gina to José Miguel was asleep, had left or was studying. Until Gina went to look and saw with his own eyes that José Miguel took days without coming home. Cried thereafter, including his birthday, Sept. 24, until he saw it back, almost at the end of the month.

were taken to verify injury. Bruised, as they were, were ignored by the doctor who told them "you do not have anything" and returned to his cell, the number seven, where they had taken a rifle butt to tip of its former inhabitants.

in jail respected them as "terrorists." The desirability were prevented and managed to deny the release custody of one of the most feared criminals flag. With several dead behind him, "The Comb", as he was called, spent his life sentence prisoners watching and earning some money in the kitchen that had been implemented and that few had access. Jose Miguel and his friends paid for food and shelter.

installed in the civilian population fixed point. Meanwhile, the family of José Miguel went to visit him. Gina never wanted to go see him. "It was too terrible," he says while sipping tea at his side. The families contacted several attorneys. They went to the Vicariate of Solidarity and all other instances they had to reach.

in prison, seven "terrorists" attended a subpoena. "It was pure drunken said who were the ones who took us prisoners and reaffirming that we were making attacks. I knew they were not. The seeing them would have recognized. " The days passed and, except visits, did not know of anything else. The blame of serious charges, the sentence could be pronounced against them easily. One night in the cell, talked of the future. Recalled one of the first night, when there came a new arrest, accused of raping his nine year old daughter. The welcome of the cell's had his eyes open all night listening to the groans and cries of the new inmate. "If we let prisoners were going to have relations with us, to get you` Creek . We were going to get well and it was better to be prepared. So choose. " Her face changes when he recalls. His children, from twenty to twenty-one were unaware of this detail and looked at him in shock when he told of it over lunch, as if it were unimportant.

After seventeen days, and without knowing why, were taken to individual cells and kept incommunicado for twelve hours. No light and just a little stale food and water, José Miguel stood still and cried, like other times during his stay in prison. Once removed from the cells saw with joy that their families and the entire population came to look. They had a party when they returned home. Toño soon left for Australia, from where it returned a few years ago.

Back at the State Technical University - the following year changed its name to University of Santiago de Chile - was found with the suspension for one semester. George O `Ryan Balbontín, known for his cruelty, did not allow young people back immediately processed. Also removed the scholarships.

In late 1988 he graduated as Chemical Engineer in Execution, race that was changed after the birth of her first child, three years earlier. The urge to finish school and start work, caused the change. The following year, the expected referendum returned to the country, ending seventeen years of military dictatorship. "I do not care. Return to democracy did not make me happy, the damage was done. "

During a family meal, José Miguel wished he had declared in the Valech commission. Her eldest daughter reminded her that she herself had called and he had rejected the idea to avoid the pain of hard memories bring all your memory again. Gina said that the commission may reopen. José Miguel believes that it might be good to tell her story.

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XVI

recently had been sincere. He spoke as he liked, because he did not remember that at times I hated her for having forgotten, he said, with some honesty and a zeal that was okay to be happy without him. She recovered, he said that now could be friends in peace, that nothing remained but a good love, those healthy and happy memories for years shared. He avoided her, but then smiled desire to see her again. She sure, I said she did not care. No more and no less, no damage. He said with an air of nostalgia, what we were kids and she completed the sentence with which innocent. He said no, they were much more than the others, who knew all, they loved deeper and more honest, they were happy. She said innocent. Innocent. We knew nothing. He thinks not. He complains. He said it was not that, they were only children, but the good, the worth. She laughs, sitting in a chair, and says he believes they were kids dreaming. Always innocent. And so they took between innocence and youth and end up talking to a chao, you are fine, without reaching agreement or consensus, as always. So different, as always.

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I had a weekend strike was the best.
After fighting with the printer - which printed what they wanted, disregarding altogether - I decided to abort mission with the multimedia text, that of Mönckeberg and everything else.
So I decided to have fun and oh how well and how good was my weekend.

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weekend Alberto

met Albert the fall of 2002. When I saw on the street offered me peanuts. I do not eat peanuts, it is too dry, but he could not say no. Honestly, I think we started badly. I refused to peanuts and that led to the inability to say no to Alberto. For whatever. Going out to shoot at half past three, simply because he liked the sound of rain on the roof of slaty. I insisted it was a bad idea, but I looked and I changed shoes and slippers, took an umbrella and followed him. The next day down his mouth with a damp cloth and aspirin, and he laughed swearing that never again should we, because we were sick and I believed him. The next rain, was the slowest he had heard. And we went to record. Alberto slept smoothly, except on rainy days. I listened on the roof and opened my eyes as I do with the tremors. I touched his shoulder and told me to wake up since the rain was audible outside, sweet, sad, tired. I wiped my face with his hand, gave him a kiss, I swore never to follow or rather refuse to get out of bed, but it was out behind him, without fulfilling my oath. After sleeping too many winters with it, I quit. I left because he loved too much rain and cold and I'd walk and recording and wet my hair and face and gave me kisses while to dry, never understood that I wake up in the middle of the night to go out to record images I always ended up stacked on your computer. We spent the memory, but he did not care. I said, while eating peanuts, the best thing was not captured and one night, I discover. I told him it was never enough and that made me quit too. I was content to see the drops falling gutters, to hear how they fall on the empty pool, but he liked the colors drops on the white roofs in the morning. I told him the day he found his life's rain was not going to find a tape for your camera or the water would end up botching, or the rain will be in Paris or in Puerto Montt and the camera would not take us. And he ate pistachios, which I do not like, and I said it did not matter, at least the rain would hold. Go to Buenos Aires, I suggested, horizontal rain there, maybe that's what you're looking for. Lavalle walk, buy an umbrella on the corner of Florida and walk one block and not have to be all wet umbrella. He said that was not illusory. I suggested to Rio from Janeiro, for us to warm rain and I said that was not rain. Rain that hurts when you drop it freezes you. There was no case with Alberto. Smoking on the bed and looked at me when the rain had stopped and thanked me for joining us. One day I will not accompany more, Alberto, I said. Looked at me and said that was not absurd. And he offered me nuts. Not as nuts, Alberto. I will also leave for not knowing that not as nuts. Do not be like I said, I love you even forget that you do not eat ... do not you eat? Then I looked and I said do not be naive, Alberto, not only insists on providing hazelnuts or, worse, buying bags of salted peanuts in shell, but you forget that I hate winter and I hate waking up at half past three and my favorite season is spring and I have allergies, as you think, so that the flowers I like and make me happy, Alberto. Really?. Seriously, Alberto. I have no allergy to pollen or the oriental plane, Alberto. I have no allergy to the sun or mites or the freshly cut grass or dirty sheets or clothing to half board, as you think, Alberto. He looked at me and told me do not be like me, if I love you but do not know these things. I'm leaving you, Alberto. You can not, he said. Who am I going to go out and burn the winter?. Do not you realize that makes me happy, Alberto? What I prefer spring candied fruits, water when ice melted, when I remember you and when you touch me, not the winter? I leave you, Alberto, I'm leaving. Burn it, lest you forget, Alberto.

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and your unforgettable smile made me so, so well

phyto right.

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Once, an old friend, commented about the rain, flooded underpasses, the landscape for postal is santiago in winter and he told me he lived in a precarious balance. I remembered that phrase, uttered by vera Meiggs after one of his classes, and then spun me in the head trying to find another meaning that I finally found. Sergio told me that I looked happy and this year had been good for me - I presume that the count has to do with the imminent arrival of my birthday in a couple of months, so you think on certain balances -. I said yes, but he said without much conviction. and then thought why. Alvaro and I remembered when I spoke of the precarious balance and found no statement that would make more sense. at times I do not feel happy. and I know strange explanation. have been so many things and good people, random encounters, I do not know, these things only happen le-the-rest-and-never-to-end I went to, but of little use if half me I have the time head busy trying to fix other people's lives, planning outdoor evenings do not work in rain or at night festivities to encourage souls and it is that sometimes one does not know if giving up is cowardly or is honest. I cross my legs as I write. smoke more, drink in amounts proportional to what you smoke. discover new places, but do not satisfy me, I must stay in equilibrium, at some point, it will come down. River with mistrust me, I'm happy to jump, like when you sleep poorly and you can not fall asleep again and turns and looks at the ceiling and anxiety and then falls asleep and wakes to the alarm and it appears that has not been rest. and it is my own balance. poor, weak, weak. about to come to nothing. because at times you also get well and we are in the balance that is most like the boredom, but it makes us enjoy the same happiness, but not so sweet ... I want to be spring again. out to ride a bike, enjoy the grass and finally see them happy and wanting to hug me again because I could smile and because you came and stayed and entertain you and we want again. only that I need to feel really happy and strong, that my balance back to what it always has been.

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precarious balance disorder

Today, Saturday, the day that, generally, do little or nothing, I look around me and I decide, knowing what that means, do a deep cleaning in my room. Deep cleaning should be done in other inhospitable corners of me, but there will be time for that. I stumble a thousand times with the same objects. Look at them and ignore them. I'm indifferent. Until today. Discard the old desktop and bought a useless little table where I fit the legs on the floor sticks where I am and hopefully, my knees do not touch the printer. However, when I cross my legs, the foot I have said in the trunk of cachureos, which holds the TV that I bought from Maximilian, about four years ago and has brought only misfortunes to my biorhythm and made me a fan of unpresentable emissions will not name, to avoid self-immolation. In my new desktop
there is more minimalist than those contained in the large space above. Two containers of pencils, packed. A laminated map of Paris and rainproof. Four blocks of colored paper to put on my calendar, I do not use a mouse, a paper that says "urgent" and other doodles, my lenses, nail polish, a pen drive without cover, two tassels of wool, a pencil scripto blue, a pair of earrings, courtesy of my cousin Ignacia, an empty CD box, a loose cd, 2 VHS, 1 box tapsin night / day, 1 packet of tissues, a plastic spiderman Throwing water and have not returned to its owner (called "the refrescancia"), a cell phone charger, and of course, my computer. In it appears a cable that charges my phone again and the battery cable that converge on the carpet, connected to the shoe also has cable plugged scaldasonno and VHS, which has recorded the latest sporting events of the month for reasons academic, and which are the texts I read in the semester, a magazine Paula, two agendas that do not use a notebook, a book and the book casaideas Perfume Jen lent me to read before seeing the film . The order does not favor me or is my forte. Although I am compulsive alia: records are sorted by band, publications by date, the books by author and size in that particular order, the boxes and colors, the letters - and I have boxes of them - by date, up to the newest, like all classifiable to get my hands on. When I wash the dishes, ordered by size, so remove them at once, dry and arrange them in the cabinet without having to take time and time again the other dishes, to get the order. The folders on my computer, what to say. Sorted from highest to lowest, is classified photos and place, the work of the university in the corresponding box according to industry, semester and year and disks bands, with their titles and years of release. Crazy. But the chaos that I see when I walk, I was disturbed to such a level, I decided to spend my afternoon.
When I saw the walls this morning, I realized something was wrong in my life. It took one glance to decipher. White wall, 7 postcards. One, a woman with a skirt of bananas, presented by Amir, as well Chilean postcard a couple of people kiss under an umbrella. A postcard of Dali and a flyer that I took in Central Hall, which has many colors and I liked it. Then, the three which together caused me shock. A card drawn from a card take to Buenos Aires - obsession I have done everything possible to take those shelves - it says "the woman who looks to love." Then, the invitation to the movie "downstream" and the flyer for a play I saw some time ago called "pain." Ie "downstream" of women that love looks "and" pain. " That and the mess made me realize it's a good time to clean and discard the excess, right?

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Patricio made to remember this feeling of discomfort. Unemployment always bad, is a recurrent phrase in times like these. At first I was on the verge of collapse, collapsed at year end well and went to hell. Secondly, I spent almost a month thanks to the blessed stop crying that seems to lower the defenses together, so one, leaving us vulnerable to all attacks that obviously received. And now that they have been a couple of days, I smell the desperation of being static, because at this point I have not even wanted to join because we're tired, disillusioned, disappointed and all that together. We want the vacation day will come soon, but seems to extend, and days away and the beach, the sound of the sea, the wind blowing the window all night, drizzle in the face from the balcony, while smoke , or laughing while we play cards, bloody unforgettable skills, they leave and not come ... What strange sensations. If not join other comment in this way, give a bad result in my psychology coolly kept, despite the challenges of Jen, trying to take the right path. After all, "the weight of happiness weighs on my shoulders" and ma shit, because I got a sack of potatoes on my back and began to walk on a rainy day in the florida avenue flooded as every year ... would be nice buns, my grandmother is still somewhat ill and feebleminded to cook. But I promised sopaipillas past, as well as we like, with orange and everything else. To pass face the fall with winter to pass and pass unemployment fears.

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35 hours the chances

to Yita (for jen)


I called at eleven o'clock Saturday night a chance to talk and how life seemed to take us. I'd say, with conviction, it was not random, it was the pure manifestation of destiny. I insisted that it was random, the fight over the phone, the term and the subsequent meeting in a room that could be anyone, at any time. Did he decide to enter your life again? Question of chance? No idea, but was happy. So we ended up finding again a night as any or none, when we wanted to go for a drink there, but it was too cold. And to frighten him, prefer to chat, catch up, jump on the minds and spread a little faith, it always appears as scarce these days, where we are surrounded by lost causes. (Here's where you come to tell me you're not a basket case, we do not really know what to do because you're scared and ask me what to do with life and concluded that the best, for now, is to meet tomorrow and drink coffee or tea, not to tempt tachycardia again and maybe fix a couple of jobs and fix the life from the balcony of your apartment).
was so good to meet again this Saturday night, when there is so much to do, but best left for tomorrow, when you leave a little sunshine, when I feel like fetching orange patio, drinking wine and in the first autumn university we sang in the car and died of grief but we laugh at ourselves, and innocent by shattered. They were good these days, when you gave me the plant, when smoked with lack of control, when we told stories of terror on the beach. Good was the appearance of your landline (which, incidentally, I do not know when to put you, because I'm out of minutes on the phone so much that I'm calling to know about your life, or to send threatening messages like "do not" because I guess in the distance). Convinced me to go see Mary. (You'll probably ask you to accompany me to see if you spread the desire that someone other than myself, I read the future). Things have gotten so good this Saturday night, when we could be doing anything different, rather than talk and meet again. But no. Random things I repeat not.

5 Month Old Baby With A Horrible Cough

correspondence

the first post I have in my inbox jennifer is broken. it made me remember how much constant correspondence keep sacredly with that woman. I remembered her last night because walking near his house at a time no longer spent most buses and the subway was closed. a few hours ago he left his home in questionable condition, but with abs of steel because so much laughter and happiness. Thanks to Daniel and his antics, of course, for which tune my guitar to have a live set soon, hopefully in my home. It turned out that I looked in my mail, there was much correspondence with the name of Jennifer Abbot and found pages and pages. I got to review the cellular and oh! message her everywhere. I will not refer to the content of these messages, it may be dangerous because of the large family hass that grows every day ... but those like "the embassy" has been remarkable, or "champions-ooo-one" with the laughs as she struts by providence with a happy face. since we began to read one, this friendship became much more entertaining. and when I call to ask to be connected because I copuchar and she tells me that coal is pouring into your computer scratch, but he remembered me and wanted to write. I read an email on March 9, which praised the Tibetan monk who lives in me, which I abuse to understand this strange woman, which is the year they ask, as my grandmother, but I love. then another, February 7, wherein I tell the story of the gift that I brought from Puerto Madryn, because even walking in full summer, I remembered it and I could go on telling a lot of private things - which will not - but which are evident in our sacred letters, messages and psychic adventure, in which we guess conundrum, as the pinch under the table in view and considering what happened in front of our faces ... this seems like a declaration of love, but it is not. although they could say that I love this woman even maverick, oligophrenic, misguided, absolutely lost, stubborn as her own and all those things but on the other side is a compendium of virtues, I am writing because now she is happy, at last, deserves and at the bottom of all this publicity is to put a bag of guilt over his men eventually prevent him from batting.

what do you think?

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The Andrea believes that glad day will never arrive. Expect them to come to her and Soledad and all others who hope that the happy day arrives and will not be ever. I listen quietly banned the songs before, the painful and give me no pity, or nostalgia. Which made me tremble before now I have the same effect: there are things that definitely do not change. Ni over the years. Neither the five years that have elapsed coming and going, between laughter and bottomless grief. I hear these songs with headphones on so they do not belong to another, to remain here in my memories and new memories. That sounds strange, no? I then will remember, this works as a prediction. Jen would look at me suspiciously and then fear, constantly guessing after this last time, even though his desire to deceive, which failed. And as I saw the photo of the child with mask that Andrea took in Brazil this summer, when all decided to migrate to happier lands, I remember the happy days we introduced last night with Jen, for all of us. Daniela and Sofia, who is already happy, but you can always more. To Jen above all, is not convinced, but I doubt I will be glad ... that finally learn the lesson? Perhaps such injury took its toll. We sang happy last night, while I was eating pizza and she smoked the last cigarette you have left, before I was twenty, when they leave the service to age quietly. And then we remember Daniel, for whom we also expect the happy day that will scare the sadness of a good time and return it to us radiant, like all other days, better than the latter. And Sophie and I remembered that "since he began to drink and smoking became another person. " The only joy that was caused by smoking and alcohol were my best discoveries. And a slap that reminded us what finally unites us. It was the only sad animated conversation last night, but who cares. If we come together to take away all the pain and gave us so successful, that I even took him suspicious. As I look sideways is a bad habit that cost removal work, but it does not bother me like before ...

Breasts Broken Blood Vessels

happy day St. Kitts late in the social pages

fear and terror in the cable car ....

and then the picnic

Number Combination Calculator

after attempts to hold the camera on chairs, on a stool ...

Flower Tucci Blog Spot

social pages / Friday

Since entering the U this year in March, we have been experiencing a strange syndrome of premature aging. Phenomenon that no one could fully understand, was that one summer to another we became all about old busy. They practice, the project, the radio show and the incredible abilities of Daniel to engage for fifteen projects at once, stop sleeping, but live work nquilo. That became a rage in Duck, who refuses to grow. His only concern is has become ev organize large ents in the house of Emilio, inviting all possible, making an unforgettable meeting. Inevitably quilted half way, because we do not sleep enough during the week, because we have classes the next day, because there is so much to study. Until yesterday. At last. It was an ordeal, but we did. Here begin the social pages of a spool improvised a Friday long weekend. Try

René. Studied on Thursday at about 11 and half of the night. I pulled around all week, but I realized that I had been a constant. In Sofia we had planned a test set, where two heads are certainly better than just one. It was not necessary. All those years talking about the popular subject, the course of history after modernization, and Salinas Ossandón Hans and many others will serve to answer two questions only using the space allotted, if not corrected, Ryan said from his new authority cloth shirt and pants, forgetting that once was metalhead, left the shit on the assemblies, threatening with strikes, and fire shots god and smoked some whistles in pasture. Then more classes. Lunch Jen appeared somewhat rough because of bad humor and sunglasses and nobody understood too hard. The Seba had to spend s chequesrestoránpelotita us that expired on Monday, so I started thinking about how best to spend it. "Don Pepe, like last week?. No. We'd better invite the plot of Daniel, so we see more passing and corroborated in situ while it is nice and happy and it seems that the penalty decided to leave, fortunately. After a few calls to Santos, we had the place, chequesrestorán and the idea of \u200b\u200ba roast that excited in July that was passing there. Strawberry recorded Daniela, Sebastian and Daniel went to the Alps to change chequesitos alcohol and cigarettes. Then run around and get to the Alps, they said they could not cash the checks nor alcohol nor cigarettes. Poor thing. JUNAEB does not endorse the reels, for their consideration. On the other hand, Sophie had q uedado in joining me in Irarrázaval, at about 18.30 to accompany the launch cover of exposure to MAP. Odyssey apart. I went to the MAP, but not before realizing that he had only 650 pesos in the cell, which was enough to call me a time and per der mid-way communication. I turned to my mom. She called Sofia. I called back. The Sofi was in the U, trapped because of Sattani I was crazy sacándole an audio noise that only he heard. I took a bread with quince paste, because I sensed that Sophie walked voracious that afternoon. I went to the MAP. Metro Cumming. Sure was about Cathedral walked two or three blocks. No road seemed for a museum, so I went something that seemed inhabited. A terrible bar, crossed to ask a man in a store. "Museum? "From Chile? Mmm ... the next, to the left. What? It was not Cathedral. So where was! Next, a cybercafe. I checked my email in 30 seconds and confirmed that I was wrong, was in Company. I paid the 50 pesos I charge on, and by charging me something and I ran, it was about time. I got tired, I ran four blocks in total. There was only one person. Timely and alone, something that happens often. 19.30 and nothing. 19.40 and it slowly came s guests. What tardiness! Sofia tried to call using an intermediary with my mom. Between you misunderstood the message and my phone lost the signal, did not understand we anything. Then sailed wine they gave us to close the ceremony at about 20.15, I returned to run the subway to meet Sophia. I do not see and call, risking to lose the remaining 650 pesos. Where are you? In the metro and you? Oh, I'm in the company ... I return it!. Uncoordinated we are in the metro o. Mysteriously appeared six missed calls and a voicemail July that still do not hear because I've got 450 pesos after talking to Sofia. Daniela called advising that he was still buying and that at about 19.30 was coming out of the supermarket recently, we bought beer, meat and cigarettes, because they had fallen short. We spent the Jumbo and Julio waste time deciding which piece of meat was more convenient. Buy wine, turkey or chicken, I'll never know because of the jokes, cigars, ice cream and a drink to quench their thirst and went to the plot. Then the dirt road yl as cows that should have been at the crossroads and we were never to aromas after a terrible day ... It was 22.30, as Daniel had predicted, with the difference that he believed would be waiting from 4, which did not happen.


Philosophy and fries that were engulfed by the crowd


The grill master ever, ie, Milica (and Daniel, are the same person) started with the roast, after having taken the poop on the grill - it may sound disgusting, but apparently was very clean - put the pollopavo, hamburger meat and my nocarnívoras. As l thought Dani had salads at home, not bought. What led to cooking pasta to accompany the meat. In July we came, started talking strains, but no one too Intersaba tasting.




master griller

After listening to terrible songs on the radio and get drunk a little, there were a number of issues of philosophical discussion on whether it was more nice to say fuck , fornicate, fuck pulling or, subject to comments that led inevitably worse than not mention out of respect for the readers of these social networking sites - Poquita socialite course - and counts doubtful and questions we always wanted to do and that generated controversy. Then, for some reason, came the new nickname "Corega" for July, although we were threatened in the car, if we dared to use it in college. When the fire was off, Milic arsonist got the spirit within him and began to burn twigs, branches and trunks and flat, and when it is finished, into the forest accompanied by Seba.

Around 5 am we went to sleep. The next morning, July clock woke us up. Snogged to Daniela, happy to have returned to college and do not believe viejosocupadosfomes as Pato and obviously happy to have seen nice and quiet, laughing with us as always.


the hostess, Daniela

Replace Lock On Tool Box

Saturday afternoon at two













and leisure time resulted in this:

Brazilian Wax For Women Pic

had to rewrite the simple things. I fear the shadows caused by Antonio Bellet, every day after nine. Learning to describe how he knows the mayonnaise, how to smell the flowers of the tent next to the market, where buying sunflowers to take from time to time and coves for me when tulips were lucky. He had to write about the love I have them all three, on the luck I have when I look and I look and see you almost the same. He had to write about the cold winter that makes me, except this fall that only seems to want cold hands. He had to write about you, him, me and everyone else who saw in the subway, on the micro and walking down the street while reading the newspaper and was littered with bad ink quality and they said the square was absolutely filthy face. He had to write about my few enemies, on the fear of abandonment but the taste for solitude and chocolates and buns. He had to write about all the walks and naps in the afternoon, waking up when the light is blue and we belonged. Now I no longer own, you can get to the share it because I like the bright, clear hours, as hours fall. I had to re-write on the yellow flowers that I liked so much on the phone I lost in Providence Park and on the response I got from Italy and Barcelona, \u200b\u200bso many years ago, with pen glass and Gabriela brought me blue-purple ink to dye my fingers ended and my dad when we wanted to skip the notary. He had to write about nostalgia, but I have not. On all the oranges with which sleep, with the smells that take me from car to car looking for evidence, cotton, fresh laundry. He had to write about what I read, about the book I won for writing football and everyone thought I was a child, for the fans, about half read Proust on the beach after the tequila and sketching trips in the Sandy, walking three hours to buy junk and return by bus and arrive in twenty minutes. He had to write about Buenos Aires and Mail July 15, on the cheap wine on the night when the obelisk screaming, drunk and Sergio, Virginia, Patrick and others, flying button, the holder and indigestion. Inconclusive about the loves, the finite, which at times go around and disappeared without a trace, silent. He had to write about the three dogs and two cats, about the shouting and shaking at midnight and the doors, windows that move and neighbors. He had to write about everything I had to do a summary and remember to re-write. I had to start tomorrow. Morning.

Save Game Pokemon Yellow

Mac honesty