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That Green ...

Grey is the color of melancholy, they say. That will weigh down the gray, which relies heavily on his shoulders, pressing down. That gray sky that fills the ruins and then down I understand everything, any other emotion.

If you bleed your eyes with his ruffles, his blades with those of water.

Then you know it.

If you get too close when the water grabs you with its tentacles to a white foot and drags you down.

Then you know it.

Then you know it's the green is the color. I am not speaking of green forests, leaves, grass. Not that bright green, the deep, the sea ...

... is the color of melancholy ...

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Denise Milani Boobs Are Fake

Wake up!

His eyes were wide open and the eyeballs rolled out of control looking for input. Of any source. The view is an overbearing sense, we feel lost without. But here there was no photon wander. All around him was plunged deeper into the pitch.

The sight only generated a sense of imbalance, such as relying on something unstable. Died instinctively view leaving the eyes open, he leaned on something more stable, the most primitive of the senses, smell, hearing, and we tied George regained his balance, he understood that was not alone. There was some body next to it.

The other senses were not Czechs, and generated huge amounts of electrochemical impulses that flew in every direction and part of the cerebral cortex, drawing afotico space. Move your fingers first with great caution, then, slightly, his left hand. They were long and smooth hair as he touched. The other hand however, still not moving, and recorded touched the surface perfectly smooth skin of a hand. George rolled his head ever so slightly using the tip of the nose as if it were the source of a sounder. Along with hearing, the brain recorded enough information that can form a clear and bright image.

Somehow, George was content between the pads of his hands and face a girl. He felt a deep breath. For we do not know why her lips were just a few millimeters from those of a woman.

She was asleep ...

It was not his girlfriend, he did not know exactly who he was. For George it was like being in one of those science fiction stories in which the self is placed in a foreign body until a few moments before. But he felt a strong attraction for the neural image. Imperceptibly continued to graze your skin and hair. Like a huge magnet attracted him.

George felt like a child on a swing in the few moments before they ascend the stage reaches the highest point of the curve, which designs, happiness. He felt that he wanted to reach the highest peak of an impalpable pleasure. He felt a very strong and powerful desire to kiss her. What would have made him extremely happy, just the thought of not doing it tore.
George approached his lips to those of the girl leaving between them a thin, infinitesimal breath of air. Wanted nothing more, he could not imagine anything but kiss her! He hoped that she would leave Morfeo to wake up and join him in that world. He savored the enormous desire for all the countless moments that separated him from the absolute end.

George could not see any way in the eyes of her. His hearing, however, recorded a change in respiratory rate. He saw with his ears the moment she opened her lips slightly thin air to collect more. In brief moment she awoke, and without knowing it, without absolutely no photon could transmit the image to one another, they looked at one o'clock in the eyes of ...

of what happened then, did not know anything ... the future is to be written!

2008 Honda Pilot Front Plate

How are you? The

Well yes, I remember exactly that day was almost over, when it comes to a point. With big smiles and big steps too close to me, say hello to me, hugs me and the shit, if they comes up with a seemingly trivial question.

- Simona! How are you?

Well yes, I remember exactly that moment. What blew me in the head. The thought and the words I wanted to say that being at that time too! I remember exactly, but the thought stuck in my head, I crossed the entire bark. I thought of the Schrodinger's cat, no it is not my neighbor!

by Anglo-Saxon can learn a lot. They have many flaws it is true, I can not stand their constant imperialist attitude. Some things, however, we should learn from them. An Englishman would not ever ask how you are. That demand do not think either, and do just fine.

Often I think our mental state follows the laws of quantum mechanics. Answering the question "How are you?" May be a paradox, just like the cat Erwin.
Imagine a cat that can eat two bowls of treats, one of which poisoned. All in a box where you can not look inside, unless it is open. After leaving the kitten, not at all claustrophobic, with his favorite jelly that will have equal probability of being alive or dead. Until you open the box and observe the cat is both alive and dead. The paradox in fact

lies in the fact that until the shit is not me that question, I was paradoxically serene, I could equally be described with a positive or negative.
Still on my own!

- then? Are you there? You can find out how are you? But what are you thinking?

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