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The Feast of Adonis

We were all ready, but when she had not decided to finally leave. Circled around the house, looking for something. Everyone looked to concern clocks, this step would come later. It celebrated 15 years of Mila, long-awaited family holiday. The whole week was not told otherwise, other than details associated with this event.

left the kitchen and went to his bedroom running, it seemed he had finally remembered where I had left. "Left?, He had left. What do you need? However that did not give any explanation, no one knew how to help.

The preparations had started just over a month ago. And the excitement just grew. We were all committed. All had something to do with the feast of Mila. The cards, clothing, shoes, decoration of the premises, in short, everything one might think in those days had to be the same color.

She went out and had to go get it. He came to our side, unkempt, disheveled, weeping. I could not find what you were looking for and it was important, without it we could not leave. But I kept quiet, thinking, trying to remember where you left off.

Making the decision of color was quite an ordeal, everyone had a different view to that of others. Mila listened quietly and smiled, with that boyish smile and gullible than their age would allow. A smile lifted one side of the crack of his mouth, a smile that said a lot and did not express anything. "You say no more ..." he repeated. She knew it would end what she had in mind.

lowered his head and wiped a tear that had long struggled to get out. "I remember having left here ..." she said between sobs. His mother approached her and asked he wanted. She shook her head.

History

part was deciding which location would be the party. Took many hours of debate, how would the local. To Mila finally choose the place and method of recovery that no one had suggested or discussed.

The time progressed, we asked everyone to forget what I was looking for. But she said it was very important. If you can not find it, I can not go to the party of Mila, she said with a seriousness that really convinced us that what he wanted was very important.

Choosing the music for the party demanded many hours at the computer to listen to and select, eventually all'd danced. Salsa or reggaeton? Cumbia, suggested someone with good intentions. "Nooooo" cry Mila, cumbia no, "he said finally.

already tired of waiting and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, all together, ask what you want, do you want? What could be so important, to delay this. Dried sweet voice and a tear again, we said it was seeking his "lollipop."

Chupetín! Exclaimed all. Or Why not say so? Along the way you buy.

"No, I Quiel a lollipop to me legally my madlina" innocently told my four years.

Convert Track Lighting

Boquerón

top of the load that brought the 'Rebel without cause, "they settled airtight cylinders were filled with petrol and tap that power mobile surti the noble companion. Returning from the experience with such peculiar orchid, I found my guy with a long hose coming out of the cylinder at the top of the truck, trying to suck to immediately put it into the truck's fuel tank, custom craft enough, also had its risks, a small neglect and that would be supplied, which would suck the hose. This done, filled with fresh water the engine radiator, oil checked with a wand that wiped several times, hit a tire one to verify its good condition and was all ready to continue our journey after the break in the restaurant "Chesman."

They left all the inhabitants, including casual diners, to part with a friendly shaking hands in the air. Were there, Mrs. Carmen with a beautiful smile, her husband with his head soaked in water that had submerged into the well to cool maybe the ravages of the drinking hours earlier, a man next to him I saw him in the kitchen killing a chicken that was served at breakfast, they were also the two "little angels", one of which was perched on the footboard of the vehicle, asking tip. No one was missing, all raised their hands and told us "goodbye." Roared force the "Rebel Without a Cause" and departed. My uncle settled down as best he could, taking the steering wheel firmly to claw our way back to the oft mentioned 'Big hole'.

was a daunting place, the nature work patiently to achieve this result. The hills were cut perpendicular to the noisy pit river that crosses it. Hence we see forming water jets descended whimsical waterfalls, with the passage of light through them filled with a colorful tone to the small space, it is un-reduced, to be there because you felt more insignificant than an ant in front of a building.

Many of these falls were small and fell from various heights, watering with water droplets throughout the space, which became the place in an area that never stopped raining.

slowly advance the "Rebel Without a Cause ', deftly dodging the puddles that formed the steady decline of water and was about to cross the first of the fourteen bridges which were in place when I see something very close to I stopped, was a gigantic waterfall, intense white falling more widened as he approached the ground. Impressive, the "Rebel Without a Cause 'once huge and strong, now he was small, like a toy next to my feet. She crossed the iron bridge slowly, producing a metallic sound terrible, I think it was made just for you. If the truck was bigger, perhaps it could not happen, would not be enough. On reaching the opposite side would have to turn right at an angle of 90 degrees, a curve with limited space and getting the bathroom of one of the falls. I watched my uncle's face, focused and calm, sure of what I did and felt more admiration for him. Deep inside me, I promised to be like him, a great driver and lead to "Rebel Without a Cause" by the most remote corners of the world. He was born here, my passion to know all the ways of the world, and know now, bump by bump and curve by curve.

I felt dizzy, perhaps because the effort was to want to look at all at the same time, do not stop all this that appeared in the top and bottom of the falls and arrival at the river, the passage of this and the huge rock that stood in their way, the sounds of water falling and running. From "Rebel Without a Cause" was smoking every time you water fell, in contrast temperatures ranging from engine heat and cold as cooling fluid.

Taking again the next corner I saw a huge white spot, brighter still, we were close and had to stick to the windshield to try to guess where the fall began with so much water that the decline comes to life, undulated changing shades of white. Faced with such a magnificent sight, "Rebel Without a Cause" is stopped and came back like a dream, I turned his face to see my uncle found him smiling and happy, but he enjoyed the show, so we stopped the truck up , to see together this wonderful in all its magnitude.

spoke To my surprise, he said: "This waterfall is called the bridal veil, the way he has, is beautiful. I would have liked to meet this bride to marry her. " I stared without answering. Want to download? he asked, while descending from the cab. I followed him, we stand together against this colossus in front of the truck, look at him, filled me with immense joy. Together we enjoy immense pleasure that landscape and nature gives us, shared with me the best gift I could get so far. I'll be forever grateful.

I did not realize at what point away from me and from a stream coming down the noisy river, took a little water in his hands and like a child I threw him in the face. I laughed heartily, I ran, I protected them in the cab. What a beautiful place, that moment so sweet.

continued its slow the "Rebel Without a Cause", he crossed over bridges and other dangerous curves appeared so that we can overcome. The taxiing only allowed the passage of a vehicle on the narrow and difficult terrain. It was ten o'clock, half an hour ago we left the restaurant "Chesman" I thought it was a day where I lived then, the longest day of my nine years for children.

of the novel "The illusion of a dream"

Do Alcoholics Have Big Stomachs

always said that there are all kinds of people, but I nose that type would be, what I know is that I really know.
My vision of the world about love, compassion, forgiveness, virtue, etc, which are a pathological defect in view of others, and I do not care one bit, which makes just continue to believe these things and not "mature." If you stop believing in love Magic is mature, well, no kiero mature, just know that it is not, that's a sad reality version of the product of the tired minds and hearts battered frustrations, or just little people kisas

magical "stories fairy does exist! "
Everything is subject to perspective, and when I say "fairy tale" I'm not thinking about Disney ... because I am idealistic but not assholes.
I have a dream, as I suppose he has the majority, a person's ideal, an ideal of life, an ideal society, some of these things are almost out of reach. At some point in my life no longer believe in that, I interned in the facile realism, defensive, taking the position if the predator flies, I did things because they were safe, in that you can not really get hurt if you do not mind, and with time, this attitude led me to create me a reality that completely dominated but it makes me extremely unhappy, because they simply do meant nothing to me, my ideal had died.
But luckily not in my nature to adapt to the environment at the expense of myself, I could not stop being idealistic, then let me of cowardice and laziness find what queria.Es this day I'm still dealing with the mess of my own catastrophes, but worth it, and yet, I'm happy looking ideal, because it's me, not a shadow of what should be qeu.
things never turn out the plan, and one becomes Piyo errors by nature of the virtues arise from defect count and a sincere attitude to them, as a result I am a disaster as anyone who dares to live a little beyond their own fears, with a past and always looking forward.
Things go wrong sometimes, and some what does not kill the left half dead, others make us stronger.
The Disney fairy tales are stories for children, but fairy tales are real, that of the great, disney there are always some elements: an obstacle, a villain, a mistake and end are happily ever after. When you see the real life that does not exist, or let the magic of childhood, or sees him on the maturity. The obstacle is the thousands, the error a string of terrible shit, the villain a hostile and vari @ s hij @ s of a bitch ... but is the same, so look for the very end, eating partridges, I eat a roast (well not because I like meat but noodles)
ultimately, arrive disney all dressed with a pink and elves dancing with music peloduces shit, I really intend to get visha and punk, with my friends doing the pogo and playing metal, if there to cross the hell is crossed, so it is qeu tales do exist, 'cause some of it, because it is more than realistic to eggs not to abandon the ideals and see that things can be much more magical than Disney shit.

Isabella -anal Extreme

Fe virus




qeu
I have little to add, this guy explains everything pretty well, I admire your Trankil, my contempt I had been stoned by the public.

auqnue I mentioned something to me and many others is a common thing, not because it is less obtrusive and spend less time.
To you, kerido Christian neighbor: you think your shit and I my shit, and everyone is free to express them within their own domains, spaces, etc., I know Christians are inherently invasive, compulsively impose their beliefs and is a good attitude qeu shit I'll never stop resisting, they qeu the fate of people like me are not going to their houses to ring the bell at 8 am on a Sunday giving doctrines, nor do we build a building in his neighborhood to impose dogmas to their children, so do not come to break me balls that offends my religion tattoo bad as trying to point out the offender, because if there is something offensive is his whole Christian attitude bothers me their little crosses, prayer cards, and the same person constantly trying to join his flock I'm not no sheep flock, at least stop trying to make me believe I offended qeu ... because you have to be very asshole to believe qeu think differently is to be offensive and not see everything you do ... are invasive compulsive disorder, and if you do not see it Ensim is because they lack respect for their own cultural beliefs, I know most of those who call themselves Christians only believe in God and do not have the slightest fucking idea of \u200b\u200bChristian history, in fact many nisikiera even read the Bible ... so are you doing propaganda of a flag itself ... and well known is the power of Christianity itself, it gets in some emotional need and thoroughly wash your head.
Occasionally I come across with religious cults and I love to sit and talk, we learn without fail, but even the best educated in the field has a limit on the qe is respectfully leave the debate and say: OK, you think this and I the other, and that is a respectful attitude, everything else is shit.
"The religion can not argue with the reason can only preach "God and philosophy, can not remember the author.
finally, I'm not bitching to everyone about a cross, and I get to Kemar churches, Christians have the gall to point at the offender as if we lived in inkisicion, at least I did not break the balls and if they bother me its brazen attitude, well, cultivence about their own position and understand that it was porqeu of you is infuriating.

Well, I went
saw Avatar, this good, but is more of the same: Man enters magical world, morally perfect, and breaks (time of emotional stress) after a meeting there between man and the world. Ban
blah

Is Gaviscon Bad For The Liver?

Mila

front of the House-Restaurant "Chesman" had a wide esplanade and a few yards beyond the river ran noisy. Everywhere you looked there were rocks of various sizes, shapes and colors, all with signs of having been removed from your site or demolished to make way for the road. I walked by this place, trying to find the noisy river, remembering the stories of this place, which had heard in the ongoing meetings in grandma's house, all with a little mystery and terror.

was a beautiful day, very early the sun was shining high and even though I still could not swim with their heat by the shadow of the hill that covered us, you could feel a warm warmth and light. I do not know how long I stood watching the river pass, but not very mighty rushing and sonorous, running a stone hitting another in their progress, fleeting precipitate.

The place was full of life, many insects tried to take some small rays of sunlight began to get to my feet, many butterflies appeared almost by magic, were of many colors, some were yellow with black spots, some were blue and there were the electric blue, very strong. No fear land near where he was, was amazing. In the environment is perceived a pleasant smell of damp earth; looked a fine mist of water off the floor where it already reached the sun's rays, giving the butterflies a special incentive to practice special choreographic dances full of grace.

to my right caught my attention a little flower hanging from a solitary stone was purple with many nuances, took the form of two tears, adorned by two threads golden on each petal that seemed to float through the morning breeze, beyond a group of wild, rough but showy flowers give the place a dose of charm. I went to watch them better and I could distinguish in the distance was something spectacular, falling water from a hill and descending into the void in millions of dispersed droplets, which when crossed by a ray of sun each color taking different and magical light in a dance of color and charm, seemed millions of colored stones or marbles spilled to chance. To withdraw from the plants with the intention to see better, no longer had that magic, so I replaced hypnotized between plants to observe that exceptional performance. Everything I had heard about this place was not true, it was beautiful, I never experienced that feeling of enjoying such beauty.

While enjoying what nature gave me, it felt the time passed, it was an eternity. Dona Carmen's voice brought me back to reality, a sweet voice called: "Humbertitooooo, Samuelitooooo" with funny intonation. He called the two boys she reluctantly cleaned the room, running almost immediately to avoid receiving another work order. I later learned were the two children of the couple, given the lads relax and members declared enemies of the restaurant activities and any work that requires effort. Although struggling all day just to hide, which logically made them tired and hungry so that at lunchtime and by evening reappeared in search of maternal warmth. The woman approached me and gently asked again for their "little angels", stared at her, still absorbed in the illusion that my eyes were seeing and only managed to shake his head negatively indicating that he knew nothing, had not seen anyone . I indicated that I move away from there and my uncle was looking for me, because soon we would leave.

I looked back at the flower which dazzled and caught me. Closed immediately, possessed of a force that surprised me. Was linked to the stone so superficially that I did not make any effort to detach it, was placed in the most simple and superficial rock. It was in my hands, brittle and faded. In a few seconds went from being a brilliant and beautiful flower in a simple prey, a dead twig, lifeless. Scared out of my hand, falling mixed with stones and other branches, it was difficult to tell which was which until a few seconds, showed the most gorgeous and beautiful flora.

I went back to where my uncle and could not get over my amazement, I never thought I could be so fragile the life of this beautiful being. The butterflies were fluttering its beautiful wings of bright colors.

Ms. Carmen went back to ask me to stay away from there. I tried to explain what he had seen, but mixing the words and she could not understand me, noticed my excitement and realized what was happening. He said then that was a very rare and fragile flower, was a ADONIS, Peruvian orchid family, which no one can touch because they die. Ignorant me, had cut short existence so shy, beautiful and fragile child of nature.

From the novel "The Illusion of a Dream"