Aguántense with this shit picture because the thing is fatal. I do not get the hijab to the neck, and I get lost that tradition of [more] cheesy Christmas Eve with an ad hoc post .
These books are not exactly Christmas gifts. They are gifts, but I've done myself (except tea The book, which I bought for Herberwest): remember? I threw the entire month of August reading about them to not end up taking even a little curious ... On the way are two, second-hand, which I hope to have translated one, at least before the next course of Huesca.
On Christmas Eve I read this post in By the way, recommended personal blog Luarna another juntaletras, companion of the Master Script. His thoughts on the pleasure of giving gifts is a lot like my own. I love it, and this year, which I have not stopped writing but I'm still waiting to charge, I have not been forced to give away some of my stuff because I could not buy anything.
was not on social occasions and it is, of course. When we do a gift or signing a contract or, if we care, leaving a part of who we are: maybe this is why, to tell who we are, to tell something.
In one of the two cases was in fact all I could give. I gave away two books from my bookshelf ( this this and signed), and a notebook in my collection. I have given an excessive and a little messy, just like the day I started to buy forks like crazy, but what they want: it was an end of year I could hardly do anything but try to plug a hole infinity.
There are only three hours to the end of 2010. The year I buried my grandmother , my uncle, my teacher and Mansur a friend, but I recovered another . The year that I broke some of my neuroses and foot . The year The Bell Jar, personal blog of a bipolar patient became Look for Verda z, personal blog of a writer, a kendoka, a daughter, a granddaughter, a friend, a wife , a Muslim, a socialist, a zenki, an orphan enough, a reader, a traveler, a fan of Star Wars, a Madrid. The year I learned to deal with dragons .
I do not know what 2011 holds: entry start in January with three projects whose outcome is uncertain, and far more exposed emotionally than I would have liked. I can not think or even on vacation, or to make plans beyond 30 days: always in motion is the future.
But here are, for the seventh time, the last sunset in my town.
These books are not exactly Christmas gifts. They are gifts, but I've done myself (except tea The book, which I bought for Herberwest): remember? I threw the entire month of August reading about them to not end up taking even a little curious ... On the way are two, second-hand, which I hope to have translated one, at least before the next course of Huesca.
On Christmas Eve I read this post in By the way, recommended personal blog Luarna another juntaletras, companion of the Master Script. His thoughts on the pleasure of giving gifts is a lot like my own. I love it, and this year, which I have not stopped writing but I'm still waiting to charge, I have not been forced to give away some of my stuff because I could not buy anything.
was not on social occasions and it is, of course. When we do a gift or signing a contract or, if we care, leaving a part of who we are: maybe this is why, to tell who we are, to tell something.
In one of the two cases was in fact all I could give. I gave away two books from my bookshelf ( this this and signed), and a notebook in my collection. I have given an excessive and a little messy, just like the day I started to buy forks like crazy, but what they want: it was an end of year I could hardly do anything but try to plug a hole infinity.
There are only three hours to the end of 2010. The year I buried my grandmother , my uncle, my teacher and Mansur a friend, but I recovered another . The year that I broke some of my neuroses and foot . The year The Bell Jar, personal blog of a bipolar patient became Look for Verda z, personal blog of a writer, a kendoka, a daughter, a granddaughter, a friend, a wife , a Muslim, a socialist, a zenki, an orphan enough, a reader, a traveler, a fan of Star Wars, a Madrid. The year I learned to deal with dragons .
I do not know what 2011 holds: entry start in January with three projects whose outcome is uncertain, and far more exposed emotionally than I would have liked. I can not think or even on vacation, or to make plans beyond 30 days: always in motion is the future.
But here are, for the seventh time, the last sunset in my town.
Hope will receive here. Happy night.
