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Ok. Change the template is proving more difficult than I thought.
all remain calm, somewhere there should be emergency exit ..

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E 'success that came to my mind a bit' things to do while I was standing with folded hands (as usual) and go to know why I decided to implement them (almost) all.

First I thought about changing. Change
life and habits.
Here, life and habits change after all these years, it must be said, is not simple.
Only how could I say no to those eyes? Those eyes .. God if you could tell in words .. have a "nonsoche" that makes you say crazy things, and then walk ten minutes later to ask "what am I saying?". THAT nonsoche you stoned, and that you stand there like an idiot with the bamboleggi look stupid. Complete idiot. (However it was not what I wanted to talk.) (Oh yes?)
I said .. I decided to change without anyone telling me anything. So either they are crazy or I'm getting very old and wise. Because the reality is not in either case, tell the convention that I decided to change for myself and for Love. But it is not easy anyway. The motivation is strong, but sometimes the bad habits seem to prevail and it is as if all the work done up to that time and much effort is crumbling and need to start over. Of course you first see a defeat that a success, but the director told me that am I doing well, and although we are all aware of his impartiality, is so good to hear it!
To help me I bought a book that seeks, very patiently, to teach me all that screaming your vocabulary against the mother or her boyfriend who just try to help me if I'm wrong is not exactly the most gentle and nice to do (for hard times one that barks for an "eye" that is too strong) and, following some of the advice found in his pages, I'm also taking a notebook (true) that I called "The Book of Anger" where noted, day day, if I'm upset, against whom and why.
Mica peanuts!
I set her to become better and, what the hell, I WANT TO DO IT!

And, secondly, I decided to change the template.
Yes, gentlemen, again.
E 'missing life in here. Missing files, missing color.
Mica can do all of my amazing verve exhibition, eh!
Ok, apart from the crap to take up space and consume these lines and characters available (=____=), I looked three (percent) or four (percent) of those other lj that roam the net, I trawled between HTML and I read instructions to create a "brilliant buttons, icons and other java Robette similar. It must be said: I did not understand almost nothing. But adding an innocent and
(seeds) on the small image summit of this small page, suh, we want to be?! (Please, have a family, do not tell me .. not hard to stand up to the news and I would leave my children orphans ..).
must be optimistic. And, usually, good start is half the battle.
But if you do not stop writing, that half the work when it arrives?!

missy (who will be back soon. And with a new template.)
(Hopefully even those that work.)
=_______=

Stomach Bug, Stiff Neck

{ You six things, including things that I always belong yet will always remain new stories, including those things that I never asked anyone but you give me you wanted ... For me you are ... through a flash you will not feel pain in .}

I remember when I was about to leave, a month ago, and I told him my feelings for You are, after all, something of mine. (Well, ours.) But something to be jealously guarded as not to ruin any of this beautiful building that we are, without feeling the need to write it from all sides ..
.. I love you.
That I love you like never before have I loved someone and that the mere sound of your voice change all cards on the table, I do something right here, right in the heart and in a second I forget my name and what day is.
fact is that in the end, it is not true at all.
is not true that I want to keep all this wonder to myself.
Because I want to be able to say and whisper. Then write, but also screaming.
stressing, if it is necessary.
otherwise leave alone.
But I still want to remember, here, now, on this sheet that slowly fills with tiny words, all black and thick dense, that I am happy.
Happy when you take me by the hand and tell me stronger "Chicchino." When I Musino and you look at me seriously but we see that it makes you laugh. When you forget your eyes to me until I can not breathe e il terreno, sotto i piedi. Sono felice se posso passare almeno un secondo nell'incavo del tuo collo, vicinissimo alla guancia. Ma anche alla spalla. E tu hai quel profumo, quello che sa di caldo-buono e di casa e di un viaggio lunghissimo che ora è finito. Tu sei il mio porto, il posto dove vorrò sempre tornare. Nel lettone è bello sapere che ci sei, e che i tuoi piedi sono sotto tutte quelle coperte, ma pur sempre intrecciati ai miei. E quando ascoltiamo una nuova canzone è come se la ascoltassimo da sempre, perchè è già nostra e resta intrecciata a tutte le nostre piccole cose che non andranno mai perse nè dimenticate. Sono felice quando mi telefoni e io non me l'aspetto oppure quando riesco finalmente a sentirti dopo aver fatto many things. And I like to tell-all those things, because that is how you're always with me. It 'nice to prepare the Creme Caramel secretly burn the bottom of the pan, pour half over the table and then almost let it freeze in the freezer, because I forgot to move it in the fridge. But it's even better, eventually, eat it together. Same plate, same smile. And take a turn for the Puccetti with the caramel. Everything is painted green and blue, in these parts. They started your eyes and your smile, now dishes and glasses, is the tablecloth, my toothbrush. Even the book that is helping me not get angry anymore. Why I'm happy and
you are the reason for all this, all this sun is here and that never goes out. Anger can also not come back, where it could never find this place right?
My Love is the most beautiful in the world, indeed, more. Better looking all around at all.
And here I can say.
Here's how to tell you.
ear. Slightly. Gently.

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" Stay with me. That sometimes I get lost. Without you. In this desert. Stay with me. Why as now I need you. Everything is now less than nothing. Only you my present.
Now stay with me. "

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I think this photo speaks for itself.
(And no, not that I gave the incli with Photoshop.)

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{a beautiful evening. With nothing to add. (Why ruin something so perfect?)}

What amounts or less, in these parts is a marathon of films in progress.
Or, rather, emerge from my laptop, now every day, significant amounts of images, sounds and words combined into sets more or less likely and more or less well made.
's right, missy is coming (for the first time in his life) to the cinema. This
so does a little ' fear, but it's true.
Hey people, let me remind you that I am one of "Enciso", the one that loves the cynicism of the Commissioner Cordier and sweetness of Grandma Jessica Fletcher. I am, yes, the same one that also looks Dolmen and Ally Mc Beal, Rosemary & Thyme, and so on .. which is claimed?!
be clear that I do not reject, and never deny my beloved series that are much "syndrome slipper" (miss the fireworks for two episodes of Enciso should reflect upon the severity of the symptom ..) But, well, I also have enough common sense (yes, Gnè Gnè, I have too.) (meschini.) to admit that a good movie, to enjoy everything in one go without interruption, until the end credits (all, strictly) is another matter entirely.
The truth is that few movies I know are often heard to say, and have never gone beyond the sweet comedy "delicious." I hate meatloaf politicians, film involved, those bloody ones and those absolutely stupid trash. I can not stand sad endings, people who does not love her and things do not go as I had already designed in my head. In short, it is difficult to be satisfied.
I like, however, the films that surprise, how exciting (even if they end with the open-just do not die ..- too many people) that make you dream or small masterpieces of the past.
That said, you understand my profound indecision when I found myself faced with an endless list of titles (which, of course, I only knew " The Sword in the Stone "=___=) without knowing which way to turn around or what they choose to start my film with domestication.
From an advanced search I was able to skim (enough) the initial result, and I chose three films:
1) an old man: "When Harry Met Sally" (1989),
2) a hearsay: "The Importance of Being Earnest" (2002)
3) and one out of curiosity: "Pleasantville" (1998)
will be the luck of the beginner, what will be, but I was really satisfied with my choice (completely random).
I watched these films without the influence of criticism, not knowing the plot, without knowing the names of the actors.
While writing this line, it occurred to me a silly example: when someone is very hungry, any food you are eating, although not excellent, is necessarily well-liked and good taste.
With these films with me and it went exactly like this: I really want to see them, though they were, and, although perhaps not be masterpiece, to me, and that's what counts, really enjoyed.

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And the days are long gone. It must have been just two and are now nine, I do not know how.
Tonight I'm tired and sad. To be honest I did not even really want to write, but so be it.
must throw them out and then destroying the bad thoughts, the ones that look when you're distracted and plays a song recognizing the agreements which create environments that no longer exist. Because the characters are erased each other and now lives in that house another family. And 'bad to be forced to forget for his life. I did not want to forget anything, really, I did not want. I wanted to all, to those friends, that life, the lie. Instead, one day I took a can of gasoline so high, I have a match and set fire to everything.
These feelings need to be written otherwise give rise to ghosts and shadows. And I now live in the sunshine, no escape, no hiding. I live well. Felice. The shadows and smears put them in that fire and then I turned to forget about it. There
I thought only yesterday when I listened to a song, almost by accident.
And there was the piano.
The first thought was to run in the room with a bat than eighty pounds and destroy my black Yamaha. And then tear away all the harp strings come and let out a scream, a horrible scream that woke throughout the city.
Instead I took the lap in bed, I put the headphones on and I forced myself to listen to those four minutes of words, note to note.
I had a small light in the room, such as children, for my courage. I was alone with that song.
And finally, won.

I started fast, maybe this is the truth. I overstated by saying that I had become numb to everything.
I now do not feel nothing, they are just memories, but I'm not insensitive.
Those notes I feel them, know them in my head and give birth to a theater that I know by heart. That's not bad, not that. But I do not have to hide.
There is nothing wrong with having the memories, Missy.
Nothing wrong with that.