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But do not stop All that jaaaazz Goya

Acabo de ver Goya's Ghosts, Milos Forman's .
I expected something very different from a culebrón remains under pompous, and certainly I expected a film about Goya (Stellan here in the role of Starksgård , bonitissimo actor). In fact, for once, the translators have been right: in the Italian film called Goya's Ghosts , far more appropriate title according to those who really makes the protagonist.
Of course, wanting to be fussy even necessary to say that Bardem equally divided the stage with Natalie Portman , and in fact, often she is to capture all the attention, even if the script is not on his side.
The fact is that, although spectacularly a real tribute to the art of Goya (for both citations for extreme realism - and so abhorrent - which he imbued the whole film), really do not understand very well that pasta is done. It is not a meatloaf to Dumas, it is not an intimate drama, documentary and not a social or, finally, worst of all, not even a good mixture of everything. Too bad, because the cast was all there, and the accuracy spectacular as well. It 's just that lacks overall density: Father Lorenzo shows off his usual shady charm (also supported by an incredible voice), but there is a character up to expectations, while Goya is definitely a human surrogate who never takes a position as you would expect from a star. Against this background the film should be titled Goya's Ghost, pace of the illusions of all. Add
but at least one figure stands out from the trio in precarious support of story, and that is the exclusion of Inés. When aged and defeat is so distressing that every time I saw her smile, I cried. That is, I have a soft spot for Natalie Portman, but besides being a striking beauty also has an undeniable talent, and loves the goal. Even so (realistically) is ugly and smashed both expressive and fragile that you can not believe his pain.
this film if only taught me that I would be a bad lesbian, because the power of feminine tenderness (albeit fake), I always win. Maldita sea.

PS I was joking. About the movie, I mean, because reading is important: the film is a metaphor for botched idealism broken (belief in God and / or social and political progress is simply a means to manipulate the mass) and machismo that has lasted for centuries in the "civilized" societies: Ines is the first daughter, mother and lover and finally denied. Perhaps, who knows, it might essere nonna. Ma è purtroppo ormai più logico pensare che la sua sia sprofondata mind in un'oppiacea Follia really che non permette di collegarsi you alla realtà - e che fa di lei, a tutti gli effetti, a ghost dolce.

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Yesterday I had my first class Burlesque. O
porlomeno and thought.
Indeed, it was more a kind of cabaret jazz, which had to Bali as if we were dolls. In addition, our teacher told us that this dance is a dance wrist, in the sense of pulse. So ... I can not believe my first English-language pun!
Vale, Quito.

Pimped Disability Scooter

12 novembre


Well well well. Yet another theft attempt - this time foiled. The type seemed more afraid of me, poor fellow.
As usual, I was shaking with anger for the privacy violated, but discover that she had taken a poor mirror disturbed me even more. I thought you literally had to hand a thief who tried to kill my stuff I'd be pissed off triple. Instead see his face, his embarrassment, his miserable condition, was enough to freeze the anger. If we find out something that took me maybe I will get back incazzatura (: P), but for now I am more sorry for him than for me. What a life. Having

house on the other hand is wonderful, and our home is hermosisima . A duplex with hardwood floors, exposed beams and a fantastic skylight above the bed that filters the night and gives on the belfry of a Roman church opposite. Obviously not ever pull the curtain, and indeed I find it rather divertido that God will bless my skirmishes en la cama.
I can not wait to try the oven and make a tiramisu, but tragically this week will be full of translations at the last second, as early as Friday I delivered my first trabajo wrote. No.
Those who talk of Spain as the place par excellence for a festive Erasmus did not study at Complutense. In Italy with foreign students are much milder. Here the bibliography overflows, e in molti programmi che è il specificate trattamento sarà per gli Erasmus the same as for the others.
However, nothing happens. I wanted to come here and want to stay.

I fantasmi, vecchi e nuovi, while back. Li Scaccia perché Portaña to know rabbia, amarezza, acute Punto di rimorso. I Can not Afford Them. Li hatred. So che dovrei considerarli come imparare a parti di me e basta, Invece li rigetto. Non posso essere anche così. A volte la Follie my stacca parti di cervello to Morsi, and a immobilizzante disagio not let me sleep, eat or live. I can only think, and think it is very bad for me.

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Fuck


www.repubblica.it/scuola/2010/11/09/news/scuola_modello_lega-8924558/

One morning my girlfriend asked me to look up inet if it had dropped the government. I said that, bad as they are informed of the facts, maybe I would be good to see some 'what happens in my frantic boot, although I miss her. I never would have thought, but when you are away is silly really comforting to have a culture whereby you know you can come back. At least for me. But in the end.
I quickly saw this article. E. What does hours * optional *? That is, instead of thinking about how to make our schools less badly managed it is, we cut obligations left and right?! As if a glimmer of discipline was too hard to maintain. And we're not Italians tend to be much disciplined, if not a duty is imposed on us from above.
short, panic. Rather than educate better, you do not. We are just unfortunate.

Brent Corrigan Brent Everrett

Ost_ilità

www.youtube.com / watch

I found a soundtrack of this Erasmus. Not phenomenal, but will belong forever to this day. He is
David Garrett, a sort of child prodigy Central Europe that, despite the vulgar photos on disc has done justice to Louis much many pedants conductors. A Beethoven would have liked - why Beethoven is the first artist in the history of modern music prog.
Council tambien his version of "Who wants to live forever", although very refined ears (I assume) does not effectively replace the power of a battery. I never understood why the children of the academy are so unwilling to make use of percussion. De todas las maneras
Mah, enjoy.

Thank You Notes For Pastor After Funeral

Miele e cioccolato

Walking through the Barrio de las Letras, I have often wondered how it would live there, in one of those great houses large balconies, verandas sort of style Liberty overlooking the passers-by.
Now I know.

I did not think that one of my roommates there was never even a grand piano, and instead I had to change my mind. Just a shame not to know to play.
I awake every morning stretching under a crystal chandelier in the nineteenth century sparkle in the sun, half-blind I turn to look for a familiar body, still unconscious, I just touch it closes in a warm embrace. Then I close my eyes again, postponing the sun for a while '. Mraw .

Miele part ... a couple of days ago I was near Plaza Mayor, and I stopped to wait novio and mother-in-law in the street where did flamenco. At first I was bored a bit ': there was only a growling guitar chords and a singer whose chilly vocals were lost in the crowd. I was about to leave when she appeared . A slim figure and slim has left the stool where he was resting, dismissed the bun to the top of the head and started to beat his hands slightly, moving in time.
I was impaled in the middle of the street to watch her dance to the last shot of clam. I wished that my eardrums stretched to swallow, so to be a sensitive carpet on which I would put every dance step. Beautiful above the eyes, as thick as chocolate and lively as that gave the shivers ... I clinked my heart at her feet, one of the few currencies that distracted through the cast.

I wondered what was the boundary between art and sensuality, passion and contemplation: she was a human being and also a summary of all forms of sensible beauty.
In the end I left only a few thousand sighs and tears, unable to pay the price of my emotions. A few cents would have offended the crack in his heart that a simple wrist shot gave me.

Sore Gums After Teeth Extraction

Sheets

Marvel Legends Deadpool 2010

Última noche en La Casa. The echaré de menos. Mucho de menos.
Although I do not know what to do, I feel good tonight. For us it is a nightmare night more than anyone else, yet are deeply happy. I'm happy because they are full of cuddles and love. My mother telling me tomava el hair that we would two hearts and a hut ... and the funny thing is that it does. For years I dreamed such a thing. Years. I could not wait to happen, and at one point simply is . Without me even noticing it. The classic dream come true ...
Or rather, it begins.

In these evenings of final de octubre, when the tourists do not play at night and / or chills olvido concerns and the one between the arms, I and my better half we found a television series that is not bad already become one of my favorites of all time: Lie to me.
Initially I was not enthusiastic. The first episode seemed to me rather a bit 'too pompous. Not that the later they were not, however, the interpretation of Tim Roth began to fascinate me more and more (his dirty british, mmmh ... - is Irish?) And I realized that I could provide three quarters endings - "stop spoiler, c##*!!!" .
short, it turned out that I afectada, and now I can no longer do without. Foolishly dream to do a job similar to his. After all, I have always been an observer, and there are certain nuances that hardly escape me (purtroppo. Sometimes it would be better not to see and enjoy the illusion). It seems silly, but seeing that series, which also lies behind the huge size of the main characters all the flaws of a rather dull script, I realized that I behave the same way. I look like from behind a protective barrier, and I read other before reacting to them. It is a process that I've never been able to stop, and that over the years has become increasingly aware - but not, unfortunately, less uncontrollable. Last night I told my boyfriend that actually, despite my weaknesses and fears, I'm with him because I could not lie to me, and that if he did, I'd notice.
One day, weeks ago, my mother had seemed strange because a couple of messages that had sent me, not much different from usual but with a shade more sad than tired ... after a while I discovered that my grandmother had almost had a heart attack, and not until I was told there was nothing to worry about.
If I love someone, every inflection is known as a pentagram on my mind. Impressed me in with relentless clarity, and almost never wrong interpretation (unless it is courting or the like, in that case take over shyness and insecurity that bust all values).

I think I know every muscle in the face of my boy, every yawn embarrassed detecting any itching. Very often closes his body: the fists tense, his arms are crossed, his shoulders shaking. Almost never see him relaxed, almost never leaves a sweetly haunting my embrace without various and often futile tasks distract from abandoning the ... but perhaps this is one reason why his rare drop has so much power over me. Sometimes I wish the whole world saw with my own eyes, to enjoy pleasure it gives me panic. There is no moment of passion or rapture cuddly that I did not seize unprepared for the reaction of my body to his. It's like magic ... more: it is chemistry. You alchemy. Since trivially
girl dream to love and be loved with such intensity that you give to a person's life really, is the feverish desire for living and for his lack of fear unbearable. I've never had so much sweetness, so much desire and deep sharing by anyone in the world. No one who really knew everything about me without fled, and from which I was enchanted to the point where they can live with all its bumps (for me it is not obvious: I am a capricious and idealistic person. Few times in life to make compromises, principle and laziness). I like him so much that it almost does not seem real.

If I learned anything in recent times, however, is that spread a mantle of Disney sequins on a dirt road does not make much sense, unless you want dust and let it all at the mercy of the moths, then I will try, as far as my nature will allow me to decadent romantic, not to idealize reality. (And I'm already breaking the connection, writing and conceptualizing!)
Además, love maybe you could define a formula, no human relationships. A sequoia tree becomes not whether the age-old seed grows in the wrong, although it was "destined" to be a spectacle of nature - as well as a reed plane can never be even habitat more conciliatory.

Once a friend of mine told me shaking my head that my relationship was like a crazy horse. He was right, but the times I suffered because I was trying to put the reins on something that I could not (or I should want to) tame. At the end of fatigue and why I won, I stopped fighting, and left with the memory of something sublime melancholy but I had to resign myself to leave.
resign is critical to understand. Move away, move away to understand what addiction is and what love and choose a healthy middle ground (because the two pure elements can not be in a relationship you want a long and stable). I left the space pretending with ferocity, and this level voltages and distances. It took strength (or unconsciousness, or both), but it worked. And it worked because I did not need that worked. And now I'm here I can talk about, dazed with happiness, because I feel like a teenage ingenue who wants to fill the hearts of his diary.

We are what we are; impure and confused. The furrows on our time leaves and bark at the same time increases, the pain disturbs us, but we would not know without joy. Most importantly, we control our own life is an illusion, ridiculous. And rowing against this granite is actually like to go blind gradually.

Let go. Suelta. Carpe diem and do not think (well, at least not too much). I just have to hope to be able to build more and better and better. And to get lucky. Nada más.