Does Pregnancy Discharge Look Like

ten at night, street



Asphalt. Solid line, broken line.
Clear transparency of the moon to flood the air.
ten at night, on the road.

Ride, ride, ride on white bicycle, old bicycle once the mother. Knotted scarf that covers the nose, nose cold autumn. While

ride follows the moon, hypnotic and pearly, pure in the reflected light that spreads without meters.
The wheel scrolls, black on black asphalt in the night, tires in asphalt, black in my mind and in my chest, that melts in black tar, in which blood does not flow, petrified in a heavy sadness of depression.
The mind slips, the thoughts you eat the tail, howling resonate in the mind.
eyes on the road fleeing; quick escape to the moon, drinking the light that is reflected in the pupils.

"Mrs. Moon, who accompanied me, throughout the world "
softly broken by the wind and race
" can you explain, what is the road that leads to me "
resonates faintly in the deserted street, bouncing off mirrors on the cars still in the dark of the street lamps off
" I do not come, lady moon, though I loved "
memory falters, the song meanders through the verses and then resumes disorderly

" Mrs. Moon, who accompanied me to the world "
hoarse and low

the light is reflected from steel handlebar. He looks like a dark ghost, lost in the outskirts of town, surrounded by that strange night light, faint aura around her. Ride ride ride

distracted mind
the moon hid behind a tree, the dark. Splendor off.
two lighthouses unprecedented fast, too fast

Asphalt.

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I have no intention to scam, and if I had to go to
'll leave a better life 'with a will to my best my PTC user (uhuhuhuhu joke).
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rox

Bamboo Poles For Chuppah

Legend

-Do you understand?
Silence. There are only the crickets and the ball rolling and straw would be a scene from the cartoon: the class is silent.
He looked for a good twenty minutes the teacher in her writhing in a demonstration organized in thousands of places and pitfalls, and swear all, have also tried to understand.
But, I also swear by their stuff there that is ancient Arabic. I would add is that some dialect of the mountains, the dialect. Preliminary close.
The bell rings after a minute of silent mourning and with due regard to the neurons already rendered the twenty-five guys. "
-Well, then check the next day. Bye .- and before anyone, even the worst lick, could open his mouth, he disappears out the door.
Trauma.
The class is reduced to an aquarium: twenty-two fish silent and motionless stare the windows thinking about how well you would be out there. A second later you are going to march on a war footing, "that bitch!" "I did not understand anything," panic and hysteria urletti, who quickly type a text message to her mother "called Professor of repetition, but that I have check mate the day after tomorrow ", who still lost, fixing the slate, half hoping that the problem dissolves, that node of the circle is loose and free-solution and let me get this damn subject, math is not applied to astronomy! - and no one notices him.
Log in and greets the class in a whisper.
Installation folder and coat on the chair, sits down, signs the register, looks around-the-chaos continues, then tap the pen on the table.
The class is silent.
"Good morning. Today missing your professor, you have two hours of extra duties with me-she turns to the blackboard math-You did? "
A low moan confirmation.
He gets up, looks at the evidence written in chalk: hand under his chin, absorbed expression, legs crossed.
After a minute, he turns to the class.
"Some of you got something, this demonstration?"
deny, resigned, heads bowed.
"Me neither."
Alzano eyes in disbelief.
A professor? A math professor who does not understand a demonstration? It is not possible, and indeed we are in-theme-is a result not acceptable, but stories are!
He takes the eraser and erase all traces of those hieroglyphics.
Now everything is quiet, the nightmare is gone, the kids, they see peace back on the black plate. For those who want
-he says-I now re-explain. If there is to listen, you anything but silent.
From the moment you lay the chalk on the slate, the class charms, they are all caught in a bubble of magic numbers, a dip in an ocean of money, formulas, equations and expressions. Before
looked like a pit, that ocean!
full of rocks, where sea wreck without aid, lightless depths, to suffer deficiencies.
And now, as he quietly speaks of the circle and straight lines that intersect, the ocean is beautiful, without limitation, clean and safe float is so easy, and just feel you're about to go under, pahf!, A buoy appears to lift.
He goes on, the cast travels, draw lines, make points, scraped away the rust that was attached to the brain of children, scraped away the doubt, scratch away the mistrust, fear of sinking in the waters of numbers.
concludes, neatly scribbled on the blackboard of numbers, a drawing, a pair of formulas. Ten minutes and you're done.
Here, I have taught piano-so-says you know something?
He sits, waiting for answers, they explore the class. While waiting
reactions, sitting on the chair, elegantly, studies the class. Waiting
judgments, sitting on the edge of the chair, legs crossed and arms folded smartly-dressed in suit and blue tie-shirt-blue, the class includes looking into the eyes of everybody some concern, some signs of life.
And they, almost open-mouthed, staring at him.
The astonished look, the look, try to see if it has wings, under his coat, a tail, horns, they want to see if maybe he is human-wire, is a robot? -.
dirty hair and plaster from the jacket's sleeve whitewashed, the result of too much enthusiasm in the explanation, his eyes shone when he came to the end-mission-accomplished, a hint of a satisfied smile to see the look too convinced of Scarlett, the landslide of math-delayed high school each year with 4 - no, really: it could not be human.
And then a chorus of yes, a lot of nodding his head, smiles, joy of having finally realized -But then I'm not so stupid, I can do the math! -. E-
The Professor always called him so because by now, the boys of the 5H, the more danger in math class all the cool school of scientific Lanza, common near Lanzano, where the average is 8 in every science class- , glad this happened, move your gaze from the students, then looks in the corner, back row left, next to the window.
A girl, distraught, he was enchanted.

He, who risked being sent back to the field every year, always save the skin of our teeth, that she hated arithmetic, algebra and geometry to death, and crying of anger on those bloody books that brought only disappointment, she first of every hour of mathematics had a lump in my stomach, and after only wanted to open the window and jump out, he had understood.
He understood, yes, it was on the famous bulb, had opened the door, he found the life jacket to hold onto.
That girl would be out of high school with honors, with a flawless second run, and that it then entered the faculty of mathematics.
That girl was me.




[this is a fiction, any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental]

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Perform Diaper Punishment On Yourself

Consciousness

I hate you. I hate you, hate you, hate you again and you'll hate you until I have more, until it slipped out of my blood every drop of you. When the veins protrude, blue, skin dry and rough, worn and exhausted from the blood no longer young, then I'll regret, no remorse in a fund.

twist inside me, upsetting the gut: I scattered thoughts, breaking the sentences into words disordered sheets as the wind, entering through a broken window in the fall sweeps a desk, in the dust a dark room, into a new house already abandoned, soiled by a short time has passed.

I who are you? It is you who are me?

exists, I, I do not have you, now, now, now?

I am yours: you sow seed on the passing world. My roots, only they, my, I parted from you, I will, slowly cutting into every link in your own silent agony that my labors, their only exit from me, your order will mark the end of your empire, the end of your domain, in my submission, signs of my body forever engraved on me to testify, the signs of your loss, signs of my defeat.

hold me in your grip, fake dream of freedom, false appearance of frivolity. I crush, preventing me from breathing in the days that run too fast, but never pass.

You are my torture, but without you, what they are: a young without youth, is it?

A young old, old, already old and rotten inside, no.

are an empty shell: What is old age, without the youth to overtake?

What is the wisdom, without the experience that built?

What am I, if I did not you? They are birch bark, brittle. Dried bark. Empty.

Without you, skip the stages of the path: the path is lost, and without aid are still in a fog that hides the path, hides the left, while the return is dissolved.

incomplete, missing a piece of life, incomplete, useless, broken, useless waiting for peace, which will not, will not arrive, I can find. The road experience: youth, abandoned. You lost, also lost the experience. The life lived. Life becomes suspended, bulging and helpless in trying to achieve an end that does not arrive, without the slight movement, not knowing where to go.

Can not delete: I have to pay, which subjugated by your weight crushes me to the ground, pressed by those fake wings of youth wings of fresh decanted lightness, from those of lead painted blue curtains that do not make me run away: they are included in my flesh, they will dissolve powder, will melt away the knots that bind them together, with time: the complex, the Paturnie: crashing at hand hand while walking, while streaking in a direction that I learn.

I can not take them off, those wings, I can not get rid of it and run. I have to wait to confront them, fight on its last legs until, exhausted from the battle, aged, you'll watch the horizon turn away forever, while a prevailing gloom spreads.

am a prisoner of myself, am a prisoner of my youth.

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Hello!

In this post I will introduce a site that I love, but here in Italy is not well advertised. This is AdPaid U.S. site born in 2004 (now 6 years of living ... so that there are three more of the beloved Neobux) and operated by Jeffry, Fuchs, Marty and Michael.

AdPaid finished second to Been Paid Program of the Year in 2009 (Been Paid is an independent body that assesses the programs and to earn money online the Been Paid Program of the Year is a sort of competition where all the users rated the best program of the year) has a Facebook page and pay a orologino Swiss: the TOS mentions "within seven days" but I never received a payment in excess of 48 hours and many people

claim to receive them even after two or three hours of the request.

But let's go on: how to earn up AdPaid ?

The clicks are not many, e-mail no more than 3 or 4 a day (some days none) and 'one will' the others are worth much, but his strength is certainly the survey.

Every day, people in some countries, including Italy, receive by mail an invitation to a survey which, if completed to the full gains (for us Italians) 60 cents.

course, not every day you can complete the survey because it is selected according to their profile (for sure if there are only polls snacks for children, the review of single twentysomethings are not relevant !) but the good news is that you also receive commissions from referrals to the polls, then an incentive of 0.6 to 1 cent for each completed survey.

That means 0.6 to 1 cent? ... Here it is the most beautiful point of AdPaid do not need to find millemila direct referrals earnings rise, but it only takes someone very active and good to do the same, because the commissions are paid on as many as 6 levels, respectively 10% , 5%, 4%, 3%, 2% and 1%.

Other interesting details are the low payout (only $ 3 = 5 surveys) and automatic conversion of points into money the first day of each month based on the earnings of the site (the last value of 1 October was 95 cents x 1000 points or nearly 0.1 per cent point)

One positive note is not so are the membership, which are only two and do not include great benefits, but only a bit 'of advertising and the opportunity to gain some extra free referral, but it must be said that a price content, up to $ 19.99. But this can be seen as something good, in fact, is one of the few sites where you do not need to invest to earn significant figures.

For details please contact me by sending me a PM (private message) on http://roxptc.forumfree.it/

good gains on AdPaid from Nicla