Unlock Tesco Alcatel Crystal

letter to his friend Jaguar

Dear Friend of the Jaguar, so that you can, whenever you want, find the friendships that count! Your friendship
availability is known and I think that your reputation in this regard beyond national borders and has even spread to the entire world ...... on the other hand, whether or not we are in the era of globalization ?!
You are able to prove to anyone with a friend and 5 minutes later to turn his back completely to denigrate or even mocking him in any way with another in which you want to show your best friend. No limitations of any kind, friendship for you is like a shooting range opened in almost all directions and turning at will, so that you can not really understand where the sides and where they are facing. And 'certainly appears strange, indefinable, one can not speak of something as tangible as a geometric figure, of course, much more when it comes to friendship.
This comparison is my mistake or rather a horrible mistake. And these days, then, where we are the imagination of all, a confused feeling as good as friends with a geometric plane figure is certainly inexcusable! Forgive the comparison, therefore, I groped for something metaphorical, but it seems not to have happened with this and just do a bad impression: but you might, yes, yes you might suggest that the most significant sentences and better suited to comparisons.
Of this I am sure that you are able better than most, you know fit the word, phrase, tone, timbre of voice, you can do the rhymes and even better than I can surely find a more appropriate comparison for friendship. Friendship can be as justice, equal for all. The friendship then, like all good things, subject to market and follows the general laws of the market.
, they may sell to the highest bidder, you can raise the price it makes little if competitors do the same! You can some exchange with other goods, with pleasure and even with a plate of peppers or eggplant parmigiana, according to taste.
Sure, throat and friendship can have many things in common, it is true that good food is always served to strengthen or establish very tight constraints. Bonds, bonds which can sometimes be a little tight and annoying as the ties that bind us too, but you certainly know how you can release the lien at the appropriate time when it becomes too overwhelming.
should not be exposed to some danger that we become slaves to our human relations on them we must always have our domain name, for better control and guide them to our liking as we like.
E 'this sense of freedom, or else each bond would be a terrible slavery, an oppressive yoke against which every action then there would be difficult. So
free, without restrictions, or if there are not too mind you, and try to shake off as soon as we can. In this, that freedom of uncontrolled and uncontrollable, you are the eternal champion and standard bearer of the additive as invaluable to which none of us may at any time. Freedom, true greatness, true measure of being!
But I'm sure that in this field, in the area of \u200b\u200brights, nobody is better teacher than you; can always talk to me a bit 'difficult, but you'd know without a doubt find the words to fill page after page. And here I would show your superiority!
I wonder if I'm not very intelligent or otherwise be part of an inferior race, but then I realize that's just the damn lack of feeling sorry for himself, always to complain, which is basically a bell'attivarsi cunning, however, in order to be careful not to look at others. You are, instead, you know you get out and look good on the world around you!
capacity and experience it takes, and I seem to be missing altogether and instead they are all in you! But anyway, you better leave this field human rights, in which I am completely unprepared, or rather unfortunately, roughly, maybe sticking to the preparation might be, and are certainly not able to compete with people able to move in many directions and actually able or at least that seems to be the show preparation.
fertile ground for some, a desert for another, to me is a bit 'field to be impracticable, as a football field on which it has plenty of rain and it is difficult to play. Quanta
envy, sometimes! Excuse me for saying so openly, but sometimes I devour, and anger becomes deaf, but whether they are able only to make me bitter and bad blood, bile, which is worse for me! And you want, the envy is not a virtue, nor can we justify it. And I can talk about envy and anger, when I began to talk of friendship? I have said so many empty words, so I shot at random, but here I am at heart: so let's talk about this lady friends, we try to write some more appropriate word, but do not turn around the subject's face to his chest: a high forehead and secure without hesitation!
True friendship exist? And 'this is the real question we must ask ourselves and to which you have undoubtedly an appropriate response that you know you are the friend of the jaguar with no less an answer to this question is coming, and now relentless that seeks to force ever more pressing.
It is not the time to hide behind their questions, in the face of relentless questions. You can not say
mmmmahhhh boohhhhh or the usual meaningless exclamations. The question is pressing and we do not let up, we are the fruit, with no substantial arguments, you can not turn around again, there is pressing and we press the shoulders, neck, to me is a headache, I feel a vague uneasiness when certain questions are relentless. It 's like if I had a thirst and drank lots of water, but the thirst there, forcing you to drink continuously, without stopping, until the water you can drink more than you dislike, but the thirst remains such as water and you can not swallow, and you start sweating and you feel bad ................
It 's a bit this feeling that I have a fear of feeling bad, having to face certain issues head-on: my friend, think you, who are more experienced, I'm too sentimental, I might give a vague answer, or look for an answer too precise and I get lost in a maze of hypotheses, and who knows where I would go to finish with the illusion of sound human relations, that I know so little and now I seem so difficult: see, once again I begun to try to run, but I realize that the flight is becoming increasingly difficult , The streets are closing one after the other, I'm at a crossroads and I slowly slipped into a blind alley and behind me there's always the same thing, the first application that I will have to even look face, and I must say something!
Help me, my friend, I can not answer, do not believe that it is self-pity or something, can not, I feel more confused, help me, if you want! April 8, 1997

Unlock Tesco Alcatel Crystal

letter to his friend Jaguar

Dear Friend of the Jaguar, so that you can, whenever you want, find the friendships that count! Your friendship
availability is known and I think that your reputation in this regard beyond national borders and has even spread to the entire world ...... on the other hand, whether or not we are in the era of globalization ?!
You are able to prove to anyone with a friend and 5 minutes later to turn his back completely to denigrate or even mocking him in any way with another in which you want to show your best friend. No limitations of any kind, friendship for you is like a shooting range opened in almost all directions and turning at will, so that you can not really understand where the sides and where they are facing. And 'certainly appears strange, indefinable, one can not speak of something as tangible as a geometric figure, of course, much more when it comes to friendship.
This comparison is my mistake or rather a horrible mistake. And these days, then, where we are the imagination of all, a confused feeling as good as friends with a geometric plane figure is certainly inexcusable! Forgive the comparison, therefore, I groped for something metaphorical, but it seems not to have happened with this and just do a bad impression: but you might, yes, yes you might suggest that the most significant sentences and better suited to comparisons.
Of this I am sure that you are able better than most, you know fit the word, phrase, tone, timbre of voice, you can do the rhymes and even better than I can surely find a more appropriate comparison for friendship. Friendship can be as justice, equal for all. The friendship then, like all good things, subject to market and follows the general laws of the market.
, they may sell to the highest bidder, you can raise the price it makes little if competitors do the same! You can some exchange with other goods, with pleasure and even with a plate of peppers or eggplant parmigiana, according to taste.
Sure, throat and friendship can have many things in common, it is true that good food is always served to strengthen or establish very tight constraints. Bonds, bonds which can sometimes be a little tight and annoying as the ties that bind us too, but you certainly know how you can release the lien at the appropriate time when it becomes too overwhelming.
should not be exposed to some danger that we become slaves to our human relations on them we must always have our domain name, for better control and guide them to our liking as we like.
E 'this sense of freedom, or else each bond would be a terrible slavery, an oppressive yoke against which every action then there would be difficult. So
free, without restrictions, or if there are not too mind you, and try to shake off as soon as we can. In this, that freedom of uncontrolled and uncontrollable, you are the eternal champion and standard bearer of the additive as invaluable to which none of us may at any time. Freedom, true greatness, true measure of being!
But I'm sure that in this field, in the area of \u200b\u200brights, nobody is better teacher than you; can always talk to me a bit 'difficult, but you'd know without a doubt find the words to fill page after page. And here I would show your superiority!
I wonder if I'm not very intelligent or otherwise be part of an inferior race, but then I realize that's just the damn lack of feeling sorry for himself, always to complain, which is basically a bell'attivarsi cunning, however, in order to be careful not to look at others. You are, instead, you know you get out and look good on the world around you!
capacity and experience it takes, and I seem to be missing altogether and instead they are all in you! But anyway, you better leave this field human rights, in which I am completely unprepared, or rather unfortunately, roughly, maybe sticking to the preparation might be, and are certainly not able to compete with people able to move in many directions and actually able or at least that seems to be the show preparation.
fertile ground for some, a desert for another, to me is a bit 'field to be impracticable, as a football field on which it has plenty of rain and it is difficult to play. Quanta
envy, sometimes! Excuse me for saying so openly, but sometimes I devour, and anger becomes deaf, but whether they are able only to make me bitter and bad blood, bile, which is worse for me! And you want, the envy is not a virtue, nor can we justify it. And I can talk about envy and anger, when I began to talk of friendship? I have said so many empty words, so I shot at random, but here I am at heart: so let's talk about this lady friends, we try to write some more appropriate word, but do not turn around the subject's face to his chest: a high forehead and secure without hesitation!
True friendship exist? And 'this is the real question we must ask ourselves and to which you have undoubtedly an appropriate response that you know you are the friend of the jaguar with no less an answer to this question is coming, and now relentless that seeks to force ever more pressing.
It is not the time to hide behind their questions, in the face of relentless questions. You can not say
mmmmahhhh boohhhhh or the usual meaningless exclamations. The question is pressing and we do not let up, we are the fruit, with no substantial arguments, you can not turn around again, there is pressing and we press the shoulders, neck, to me is a headache, I feel a vague uneasiness when certain questions are relentless. It 's like if I had a thirst and drank lots of water, but the thirst there, forcing you to drink continuously, without stopping, until the water you can drink more than you dislike, but the thirst remains such as water and you can not swallow, and you start sweating and you feel bad ................
It 's a bit this feeling that I have a fear of feeling bad, having to face certain issues head-on: my friend, think you, who are more experienced, I'm too sentimental, I might give a vague answer, or look for an answer too precise and I get lost in a maze of hypotheses, and who knows where I would go to finish with the illusion of sound human relations, that I know so little and now I seem so difficult: see, once again I begun to try to run, but I realize that the flight is becoming increasingly difficult , The streets are closing one after the other, I'm at a crossroads and I slowly slipped into a blind alley and behind me there's always the same thing, the first application that I will have to even look face, and I must say something!
Help me, my friend, I can not answer, do not believe that it is self-pity or something, can not, I feel more confused, help me, if you want! April 8, 1997

Where To Get A Brazilian Wax In El Paso, Tx

THE CARD 'IDENTITY

One day Jack needed paper identity. He became great, and if he was not served until then, now would be indispensable.
- It's not a formality - they told him all. Just go to the city, asking what it takes to get it, obtain the necessary documents.
problems instead began immediately, with the photograph.
Instead of going by an expert photographer and liquidate all in five minutes, Jack, to save time and money, he thought to himself.
"I'll make the photos under the arcades of the square-timer, Mom" \u200b\u200b
"You're disheveled, first go to the barber, you can not put your card in a face identity disorder" said the mother.
Jack had a fight with the barber. A tagliarseli alone was not capable, but the fact is that he liked her hair a bit 'ruffled and above all he was annoyed that someone put his hands on his head, as if the search in the brain. Because it seemed that every time the barber tidying those bohemian curls with scissors, pruning that would work in his brain. In short, Jack was not a hippie, why bother very long hair, but had a kind of idiosyncrasy to the barber's chair, as is indeed very common. There was always reluctantly and rarely. Among other things, we had just left, not even two months, and had not nessun desiderio di ritornarci così presto.
E così borbottò che si sarebbe fatto una foto con i capelli che aveva, che non era che una formalità; ma in fondo sapeva che in quel momento non era molto decente e che bisognava pur darsi una sistematina e che la mamma non aveva poi tutti i torti.
Certo, lo scocciava prendere una decisione così eroica, come era per lui quella di andare dal barbiere, per la carta d’identità. Ma la madre insisteva e gli toccò cedere e s’infilò nel negozio del barbiere.
Quel giorno però c’era nell’aria un qualcosa di stuzzichino e doveva aver avuto influenza sull’appetito del barbiere.
Infatti, quando Giacomino si sedette, quello aveva almost stomach cramps, but could not stop for breakfast as well as individual civilians, but was forced to continue working, so he inquired in a thousand ways on how Jack wants his hair and when he knew well, he naturally his head, also urged by the pangs of his stomach, as if you were to eat Jack's hair with cappuccino.
The big trouble came when Jack, half cut, of course, told him he wanted a head suitable for an identity card and it was decided that for this to come to spend the money early.
The Barber became more strict, and there's nothing worse than a hungry barbershop and scrupulous: when you state your size scruples, and together makes you hungry and so angry exit from the store of course after the fact.
So Jack, who wanted to slightly modify the work of the barber, something that was almost always successful, was confronted with the fact that the occasion was special, that we must leave it to experts and so was unable to interfere in any way. He took a few timid attempts, but when I was about to open his mouth, immediately closed it to him and the barber was fortunate that he bit his tongue: it was necessary to make shampoo, head down, eyes closed. And was now at the mercy of the full barber, who, ever hungry, in wiping the head did not scruple to burn un pochino anche le orecchie, forse pensando ad una bistecca ai ferri.
Quando l’opera fu compiuta, era ormai troppo tardi per cambiarla.
Giacomino si guardò allo specchio e non si piacque subito. Ma abbozzò, pagò e salutò con un po’ di astio il suo barbiere.
Non ebbe il coraggio di farsi subito le foto, però!
Andò a casa.
“Toh, finalmente un bel taglio, chiaro ” fece la mamma.
“ Ma va, mi ha quasi rapato e non me ne sono accorto; ora debbo aspettare un po’ di giorni, che mi ricrescano, per le foto ” fece lui.
Non si piaceva così; la mamma invece insisteva perché se le facesse subito così, con i capelli corti.
a fight almost broke out on the subject, and immediately there was a consultation of the family, with my aunt Adele that of course was approached first.
The aunt was very wise, knew how to give balanced opinions on the mirrors and of course climbed to please both ways while saying nothing definite.
Father said timidly that if Jack was not going to have them now, they could also wait for the photos. And, coming and going, we got a quick reference.
recurrence of the problem of there in a fortnight.
Mama Jack 's ground most of the day: it was time to decide, then you could wait a lifetime for an identity card. Jack is just tolerated
a bit ', now that an inch of hair had slightly changed his image, but certainly still do not like it. His mother told him
but again that was not pleasure alone, but that was to please others.
But he was stubborn, he wanted to argue. The question seemed to light a simple question, but after a while 'had degenerated in tone and they were both literally rage.
"You can always make your head! "The mother repeated over and over.
"I can not always just what you say! "He replied.
not intended in any way and at that point my aunt Adele intervened and said it was not fair that he had clipped that guy in that way and that he still had to respect his mother, he spoke for his own good, etc. .. Aunt Adele was characteristic for his skilful assistance. He managed to convince everyone. As a young man had predispositions for politics.
"If it's time to take photos, which you must face the" father intervened, cutting short.
Sure, it was time. It seemed an affair of state, and it was only an identity card.
But Jack was an affair of state. And he began to think about going away from home and have it by himself, his identity card.
was just very nervous and at the bar, did not see George step on their feet. And so it did not take long for her characteristics are slightly modified from a black eye and a swollen lip.
And there was therefore a new reference rather prolonged.
When, some months later, he was relieved the problem, Jack, who in the meantime had grown a beard of a few grams, objected that his identity card would be made if and when he wanted the image more pleasing to him .
There was much discussion.
And when you went to a university if he did, finally, not that there were many problems.





After 20 years, here it is again, now married, my father, who has lost his identity card and must rifarsela. And his wife advised him to go to the barber.
He smiles, perhaps because of some memory, or perhaps because, while there is someone you should go to the barber without knowing how many problems can arise, it is to smile.
But perhaps because in the end he smiles like a good advice.
But now the problem has become a bit more complicated.
It is no longer the hair, because Jack has lost a lot, even if it persists with a series of desperate attempts to cover the lighter areas. He also made several attempts at treatment but the results were still under discussion. The Barber continues to promise miracles. The trouble is that the barber has become almost completely bald and no one believes him anymore.
But it is not hair, said.
The problem is more professional, and when you go to work, everyone understands that we are talking about shaving.
Why Jack is uncertain whether or not cut it for the photo.
During the holidays if you made it grow a beard and is just a professional.
In fact, if his beard had grown completely only once, when everyone had begun to call him an engineer, that is, two months before graduating. When, now sure of himself, had fired the title to the four winds and a beard.
Then, slowly, he had cut beard and gently as the title. Yes, because being called the engineer had begun to annoy some years.
As an undergraduate, like every person in a way, threw himself on teaching. Requests for substitutions, a competition.
had begun between a project and the other, but the trouble was that the projects were still his, that he did not relate to others. Customers, work, work. Projects and do things well. The trouble is that he could not get them out of his head.
It's not that they communicate, or rather, perhaps he was talking so much that someone had just tired of listening to them.
But the fact is that the work did not come, even customers professional activity was the most important tennis, used to maintain a good public relations in the tennis club (you have to say that the court was soon abandoned because of its high cost and lack of profitability). So
teaching, reluctantly, the other between a yawn and a discussion of the students-continuing complaint among colleagues.
But in teaching, as everyone knows, there is the question of the role and score. So, between a job and a temporary substitute, was still hoping to become the role, until one day he began to respond to newspaper ads.
And so he discovered that a number of possibilities opened wide the sales.
two years had left teaching and became an official business (so they said) of a scientific society of electrical equipment.
And so, in the summer, he had grown a beard. He had first grown for two days, then we had thought deeply about and decided.
But he had vowed not to be swayed this time by the judgments of others. And, in fact, so far he had succeeded.
The beard was there, thick, others had accepted it, had resumed its activities in full, was new to everybody that she spent much something new in your reports. But
he was not at the bottom to keep it safe and had not yet accepted fully. And then there was his wife, who after initially opposed and soon encouraged, eventually decided to take sides between the opposites.
did not say much, but every now and was making faces very significant. And this of course made him more and more obstinate in his decision to keep it, the beard.
However, when his wife was those faces, Jack was cornered.
was a fact more or less conscious, but just from those faces he knew he did not have many easy choices. And that the choices were few like.
He knew that mouth disguised as a slightly crooked smile. And when he saw her worried, because he realized did not have much time to establish its position. More than the fact of having to battle any with his wife, it was concerned that the face did not give him the time necessary for a balanced and well-considered decision, it took forever for him a bit 'of time, and more There was more and was acceptable.
But when they began pulling faces, he realized that the time had almost expired, and this made him nervous.
And it was more than a week that was now cornered.
And so Jack is stuck in the barber shop. It came out without a beard.
Gianni was the first to meet him. Jack greeted him cordially, but soon began to instinctively hide the chin, and hastened the speech in the hope that he is asked why he had shaved off his beard. Also because it would be difficult to explain.
Gianni began to talk about his work and then asked him when news of his family, he returned to the calling itself.
They said goodbye and only then Jack realized that the other had not just realized that he had shaved off his beard, although the first three times he had been the subject of a thorough conversation with him. Or perhaps he had failed to ask.
But entering the front door and meeting with the lady of the fifth floor confirmed the fact that his beard was almost unnoticed, so that he thought that his wife probably would not have noticed.




"Let it rest, guys, is sleeping!"
Grandpa dozed in a chair a little 'frayed, his head dropped on one side and that moved to every deep breath, and what did seem slightly agitated whenever he said "No". Yes, because that seemed to end its movement in a rejection of anything, seemed to be saying that it was true that he slept, he was awake and well presented.
So much so that the grandchildren often amused, asking him something before the head movement.
"You have robbed the bank, Grandpa? Eh? "And he did his head no.
"Have you smoked in secret, is not it, Grandpa?" And he always no, dry, as if the dialogue was real. So that left uncertain the boys, who was taking them around him, and the game was interrupted.
My grandfather had his white hair at the temples, rather thick near the ears, but his face had expanded its space on the shrine, leaving him naked and unarmed at the top.
But, on the other hand, a fine mustache, mustache lords.
and grandfather rested. And the mustache gave him an air of austerity.
Grandpa but he had never done take a picture, since he had a mustache. There were so many years now, and there was no line.
At the table, the daughter he said calmly that everything was ready for him to be accepted in the nursing home Villa Serena and missing only one of his recent photo for his ID, because the picture many years ago were not acceptable.
To which he nodded, and replied calmly that were not acceptable if you could not do, because if those documents were, that was him.
"But, Daddy, you were so, but now you're different," insisted her daughter.
"It is true, but I'm still the same."
My grandfather was very good at dialogue of the deaf.
He understood perfectly well that it took the photo, but he, the photo would have done if he wanted.
So it was decided to organize a family gathering. One could not escape the target would be, even unwillingly, forced.
It was the big day. They came all. It was also the cousin of his grandfather. And they began to joke.
And when they were at the table, the more beautiful, here there's nephew traitor ready to take a nice family photo. But my grandfather began to rant, he did not want to be portrayed, who wanted to force a betrayal, and then burst into a desperate cry.
crying, crying his grandfather and the quiet atmosphere was broken as if by magic.
"Why are you doing up, it's nothing!"
"No, I'll ,.......... the photo above, but when my mustache will
..........." "But what must be, these blessed mustache?"
"How I want them!"
"How?"
"As two wings, donkeys, like two wings! "
mustache of his grandfather were full, thick, arrived in mid-cheek to bend slightly upwards.
"But I already have two wings, two large white wings, Dad," was his daughter.
"You do not understand anything," said the grandfather, who stood up to leave.
"It means that you do not make the picture" said the daughter.
The grandfather looked at her, as queries, then cheered as he said quietly: "Well, for that matter, I'm going to write a system and do, these photos blessed!" leaving everyone a bit 'surprised.
He went to his room.
She looked in the mirror. Better curled mustache, a little 'more right. Then he returned and sat.

But his grandfather was right. Those photos with the curly mustache as best were not worth the appearance with severe and jovial after a few months he had with two men mustache Vittorio Emanuele, the day of his death.
And those two big white mustache looked like two wings, two wings on her face. As he had said.
My grandfather had a long face and a little ' emaciated, with eyes deep blacks, a nose a little 'crooked her hair, all white at the temples, which fit perfectly with the mustache that seemed to go as two ways to follow them.
And that mustache gave an impetus to the face, as an invitation to fly.
He said as two wings, and it was true.
looked like two wings, perhaps because he wore a different expression on the face, which was altogether lighter.
was as if his mustache a bit betrayed 'the original.
The mustache is more severe and generally weighted image.
But the face of his grandfather he was relieved, and they were the wings for his smile, it was stated underneath. Del
Grandpa's been given that image, but he had his good reasons to expect it.
And, if it was taken over later, was best expressed his personality and his desire to fly close encounter light to something, meet someone, meet life, to his death.

Where To Get A Brazilian Wax In El Paso, Tx

THE CARD 'IDENTITY

One day Jack needed paper identity. He became great, and if he was not served until then, now would be indispensable.
- It's not a formality - they told him all. Just go to the city, asking what it takes to get it, obtain the necessary documents.
problems instead began immediately, with the photograph.
Instead of going by an expert photographer and liquidate all in five minutes, Jack, to save time and money, he thought to himself.
"I'll make the photos under the arcades of the square-timer, Mom" \u200b\u200b
"You're disheveled, first go to the barber, you can not put your card in a face identity disorder" said the mother.
Jack had a fight with the barber. A tagliarseli alone was not capable, but the fact is that he liked her hair a bit 'ruffled and above all he was annoyed that someone put his hands on his head, as if the search in the brain. Because it seemed that every time the barber tidying those bohemian curls with scissors, pruning that would work in his brain. In short, Jack was not a hippie, why bother very long hair, but had a kind of idiosyncrasy to the barber's chair, as is indeed very common. There was always reluctantly and rarely. Among other things, we had just left, not even two months, and had not nessun desiderio di ritornarci così presto.
E così borbottò che si sarebbe fatto una foto con i capelli che aveva, che non era che una formalità; ma in fondo sapeva che in quel momento non era molto decente e che bisognava pur darsi una sistematina e che la mamma non aveva poi tutti i torti.
Certo, lo scocciava prendere una decisione così eroica, come era per lui quella di andare dal barbiere, per la carta d’identità. Ma la madre insisteva e gli toccò cedere e s’infilò nel negozio del barbiere.
Quel giorno però c’era nell’aria un qualcosa di stuzzichino e doveva aver avuto influenza sull’appetito del barbiere.
Infatti, quando Giacomino si sedette, quello aveva almost stomach cramps, but could not stop for breakfast as well as individual civilians, but was forced to continue working, so he inquired in a thousand ways on how Jack wants his hair and when he knew well, he naturally his head, also urged by the pangs of his stomach, as if you were to eat Jack's hair with cappuccino.
The big trouble came when Jack, half cut, of course, told him he wanted a head suitable for an identity card and it was decided that for this to come to spend the money early.
The Barber became more strict, and there's nothing worse than a hungry barbershop and scrupulous: when you state your size scruples, and together makes you hungry and so angry exit from the store of course after the fact.
So Jack, who wanted to slightly modify the work of the barber, something that was almost always successful, was confronted with the fact that the occasion was special, that we must leave it to experts and so was unable to interfere in any way. He took a few timid attempts, but when I was about to open his mouth, immediately closed it to him and the barber was fortunate that he bit his tongue: it was necessary to make shampoo, head down, eyes closed. And was now at the mercy of the full barber, who, ever hungry, in wiping the head did not scruple to burn un pochino anche le orecchie, forse pensando ad una bistecca ai ferri.
Quando l’opera fu compiuta, era ormai troppo tardi per cambiarla.
Giacomino si guardò allo specchio e non si piacque subito. Ma abbozzò, pagò e salutò con un po’ di astio il suo barbiere.
Non ebbe il coraggio di farsi subito le foto, però!
Andò a casa.
“Toh, finalmente un bel taglio, chiaro ” fece la mamma.
“ Ma va, mi ha quasi rapato e non me ne sono accorto; ora debbo aspettare un po’ di giorni, che mi ricrescano, per le foto ” fece lui.
Non si piaceva così; la mamma invece insisteva perché se le facesse subito così, con i capelli corti.
a fight almost broke out on the subject, and immediately there was a consultation of the family, with my aunt Adele that of course was approached first.
The aunt was very wise, knew how to give balanced opinions on the mirrors and of course climbed to please both ways while saying nothing definite.
Father said timidly that if Jack was not going to have them now, they could also wait for the photos. And, coming and going, we got a quick reference.
recurrence of the problem of there in a fortnight.
Mama Jack 's ground most of the day: it was time to decide, then you could wait a lifetime for an identity card. Jack is just tolerated
a bit ', now that an inch of hair had slightly changed his image, but certainly still do not like it. His mother told him
but again that was not pleasure alone, but that was to please others.
But he was stubborn, he wanted to argue. The question seemed to light a simple question, but after a while 'had degenerated in tone and they were both literally rage.
"You can always make your head! "The mother repeated over and over.
"I can not always just what you say! "He replied.
not intended in any way and at that point my aunt Adele intervened and said it was not fair that he had clipped that guy in that way and that he still had to respect his mother, he spoke for his own good, etc. .. Aunt Adele was characteristic for his skilful assistance. He managed to convince everyone. As a young man had predispositions for politics.
"If it's time to take photos, which you must face the" father intervened, cutting short.
Sure, it was time. It seemed an affair of state, and it was only an identity card.
But Jack was an affair of state. And he began to think about going away from home and have it by himself, his identity card.
was just very nervous and at the bar, did not see George step on their feet. And so it did not take long for her characteristics are slightly modified from a black eye and a swollen lip.
And there was therefore a new reference rather prolonged.
When, some months later, he was relieved the problem, Jack, who in the meantime had grown a beard of a few grams, objected that his identity card would be made if and when he wanted the image more pleasing to him .
There was much discussion.
And when you went to a university if he did, finally, not that there were many problems.





After 20 years, here it is again, now married, my father, who has lost his identity card and must rifarsela. And his wife advised him to go to the barber.
He smiles, perhaps because of some memory, or perhaps because, while there is someone you should go to the barber without knowing how many problems can arise, it is to smile.
But perhaps because in the end he smiles like a good advice.
But now the problem has become a bit more complicated.
It is no longer the hair, because Jack has lost a lot, even if it persists with a series of desperate attempts to cover the lighter areas. He also made several attempts at treatment but the results were still under discussion. The Barber continues to promise miracles. The trouble is that the barber has become almost completely bald and no one believes him anymore.
But it is not hair, said.
The problem is more professional, and when you go to work, everyone understands that we are talking about shaving.
Why Jack is uncertain whether or not cut it for the photo.
During the holidays if you made it grow a beard and is just a professional.
In fact, if his beard had grown completely only once, when everyone had begun to call him an engineer, that is, two months before graduating. When, now sure of himself, had fired the title to the four winds and a beard.
Then, slowly, he had cut beard and gently as the title. Yes, because being called the engineer had begun to annoy some years.
As an undergraduate, like every person in a way, threw himself on teaching. Requests for substitutions, a competition.
had begun between a project and the other, but the trouble was that the projects were still his, that he did not relate to others. Customers, work, work. Projects and do things well. The trouble is that he could not get them out of his head.
It's not that they communicate, or rather, perhaps he was talking so much that someone had just tired of listening to them.
But the fact is that the work did not come, even customers professional activity was the most important tennis, used to maintain a good public relations in the tennis club (you have to say that the court was soon abandoned because of its high cost and lack of profitability). So
teaching, reluctantly, the other between a yawn and a discussion of the students-continuing complaint among colleagues.
But in teaching, as everyone knows, there is the question of the role and score. So, between a job and a temporary substitute, was still hoping to become the role, until one day he began to respond to newspaper ads.
And so he discovered that a number of possibilities opened wide the sales.
two years had left teaching and became an official business (so they said) of a scientific society of electrical equipment.
And so, in the summer, he had grown a beard. He had first grown for two days, then we had thought deeply about and decided.
But he had vowed not to be swayed this time by the judgments of others. And, in fact, so far he had succeeded.
The beard was there, thick, others had accepted it, had resumed its activities in full, was new to everybody that she spent much something new in your reports. But
he was not at the bottom to keep it safe and had not yet accepted fully. And then there was his wife, who after initially opposed and soon encouraged, eventually decided to take sides between the opposites.
did not say much, but every now and was making faces very significant. And this of course made him more and more obstinate in his decision to keep it, the beard.
However, when his wife was those faces, Jack was cornered.
was a fact more or less conscious, but just from those faces he knew he did not have many easy choices. And that the choices were few like.
He knew that mouth disguised as a slightly crooked smile. And when he saw her worried, because he realized did not have much time to establish its position. More than the fact of having to battle any with his wife, it was concerned that the face did not give him the time necessary for a balanced and well-considered decision, it took forever for him a bit 'of time, and more There was more and was acceptable.
But when they began pulling faces, he realized that the time had almost expired, and this made him nervous.
And it was more than a week that was now cornered.
And so Jack is stuck in the barber shop. It came out without a beard.
Gianni was the first to meet him. Jack greeted him cordially, but soon began to instinctively hide the chin, and hastened the speech in the hope that he is asked why he had shaved off his beard. Also because it would be difficult to explain.
Gianni began to talk about his work and then asked him when news of his family, he returned to the calling itself.
They said goodbye and only then Jack realized that the other had not just realized that he had shaved off his beard, although the first three times he had been the subject of a thorough conversation with him. Or perhaps he had failed to ask.
But entering the front door and meeting with the lady of the fifth floor confirmed the fact that his beard was almost unnoticed, so that he thought that his wife probably would not have noticed.




"Let it rest, guys, is sleeping!"
Grandpa dozed in a chair a little 'frayed, his head dropped on one side and that moved to every deep breath, and what did seem slightly agitated whenever he said "No". Yes, because that seemed to end its movement in a rejection of anything, seemed to be saying that it was true that he slept, he was awake and well presented.
So much so that the grandchildren often amused, asking him something before the head movement.
"You have robbed the bank, Grandpa? Eh? "And he did his head no.
"Have you smoked in secret, is not it, Grandpa?" And he always no, dry, as if the dialogue was real. So that left uncertain the boys, who was taking them around him, and the game was interrupted.
My grandfather had his white hair at the temples, rather thick near the ears, but his face had expanded its space on the shrine, leaving him naked and unarmed at the top.
But, on the other hand, a fine mustache, mustache lords.
and grandfather rested. And the mustache gave him an air of austerity.
Grandpa but he had never done take a picture, since he had a mustache. There were so many years now, and there was no line.
At the table, the daughter he said calmly that everything was ready for him to be accepted in the nursing home Villa Serena and missing only one of his recent photo for his ID, because the picture many years ago were not acceptable.
To which he nodded, and replied calmly that were not acceptable if you could not do, because if those documents were, that was him.
"But, Daddy, you were so, but now you're different," insisted her daughter.
"It is true, but I'm still the same."
My grandfather was very good at dialogue of the deaf.
He understood perfectly well that it took the photo, but he, the photo would have done if he wanted.
So it was decided to organize a family gathering. One could not escape the target would be, even unwillingly, forced.
It was the big day. They came all. It was also the cousin of his grandfather. And they began to joke.
And when they were at the table, the more beautiful, here there's nephew traitor ready to take a nice family photo. But my grandfather began to rant, he did not want to be portrayed, who wanted to force a betrayal, and then burst into a desperate cry.
crying, crying his grandfather and the quiet atmosphere was broken as if by magic.
"Why are you doing up, it's nothing!"
"No, I'll ,.......... the photo above, but when my mustache will
..........." "But what must be, these blessed mustache?"
"How I want them!"
"How?"
"As two wings, donkeys, like two wings! "
mustache of his grandfather were full, thick, arrived in mid-cheek to bend slightly upwards.
"But I already have two wings, two large white wings, Dad," was his daughter.
"You do not understand anything," said the grandfather, who stood up to leave.
"It means that you do not make the picture" said the daughter.
The grandfather looked at her, as queries, then cheered as he said quietly: "Well, for that matter, I'm going to write a system and do, these photos blessed!" leaving everyone a bit 'surprised.
He went to his room.
She looked in the mirror. Better curled mustache, a little 'more right. Then he returned and sat.

But his grandfather was right. Those photos with the curly mustache as best were not worth the appearance with severe and jovial after a few months he had with two men mustache Vittorio Emanuele, the day of his death.
And those two big white mustache looked like two wings, two wings on her face. As he had said.
My grandfather had a long face and a little ' emaciated, with eyes deep blacks, a nose a little 'crooked her hair, all white at the temples, which fit perfectly with the mustache that seemed to go as two ways to follow them.
And that mustache gave an impetus to the face, as an invitation to fly.
He said as two wings, and it was true.
looked like two wings, perhaps because he wore a different expression on the face, which was altogether lighter.
was as if his mustache a bit betrayed 'the original.
The mustache is more severe and generally weighted image.
But the face of his grandfather he was relieved, and they were the wings for his smile, it was stated underneath. Del
Grandpa's been given that image, but he had his good reasons to expect it.
And, if it was taken over later, was best expressed his personality and his desire to fly close encounter light to something, meet someone, meet life, to his death.

Whos Is Kates Playground

The old and the dawn

THE OLD MAN AND THE DAWN

The old man turned and turned in bed. The torrid night
not had a wink of sleep.
He tried to get sleep, but had always escaped away, just when it seemed he was going to catch it. The old man tried desperately, because her thoughts that night were not gay, and tortured him, and he could not find peace in his bed.
He got up and began walking slowly to the house to brood up his thoughts.
moments were fleeting, coming and going through his mind, but he was not chasing swarming like fireflies at night, lit up a corner, a sudden shine, and then disappeared into thin air, consumed.
The old man looked out the balcony.
looked at the sky and saw that there was some cloud. The stars could be seen just for the city lights.
felt an oppressive heat, everything was still, not moving a breath of air.
Then she stared at the large eucalyptus, which alone had been spared and who survived near the church that you could see from his balcony.
He stood still, perhaps he felt the heat. Not a leaf moved. It was all stretched in a great effort. The old
invoked the air. "You do not breathe," he thought, and prayed that a puff, a puff of air was at least to mitigate the stagnation which gave that effect so overwhelming. He prayed that the sky moved air, which would send the sea breeze. It turned his eyes and looked towards the sea.
He heard a dog barking. He, too, maybe he was relying on the breeze, or swearing in their language. He looked again at the
large eucalyptus trees. More and more property.
The old man was tense. And your thoughts again began to swirl in his mind to wander. Fleeting thoughts.
The mother appeared to him and he found the child on a beach, holding a bucket of water, and liked to throw it on the feet of his mother, who scolded him but then smiled and asked for more water, and He ran to the sea with the bucket, more water, the mother was smiling from afar.
He looked again towards the large eucalyptus trees. It stared at him. The tree was tight in its rigidity. The old man kept staring at it, hoping it will animate.
But so, that there was gloomy, and the old man was afraid, because in the shadows appeared as a sinister figure.
And while retreating felt a little air. Then he rejoiced, for the sky and the sea had probably heard. And the great eucalyptus barely moved and seemed more cheerful.
The old man brightened up and back into bed, hoping to take 5 minutes of sleep.
After a while, 'she felt the breeze. It was sweet was the greatest pleasure.
And the old man fell asleep at dawn and slipped his mind in his dreams.

Whos Is Kates Playground

The old and the dawn

THE OLD MAN AND THE DAWN

The old man turned and turned in bed. The torrid night
not had a wink of sleep.
He tried to get sleep, but had always escaped away, just when it seemed he was going to catch it. The old man tried desperately, because her thoughts that night were not gay, and tortured him, and he could not find peace in his bed.
He got up and began walking slowly to the house to brood up his thoughts.
moments were fleeting, coming and going through his mind, but he was not chasing swarming like fireflies at night, lit up a corner, a sudden shine, and then disappeared into thin air, consumed.
The old man looked out the balcony.
looked at the sky and saw that there was some cloud. The stars could be seen just for the city lights.
felt an oppressive heat, everything was still, not moving a breath of air.
Then she stared at the large eucalyptus, which alone had been spared and who survived near the church that you could see from his balcony.
He stood still, perhaps he felt the heat. Not a leaf moved. It was all stretched in a great effort. The old
invoked the air. "You do not breathe," he thought, and prayed that a puff, a puff of air was at least to mitigate the stagnation which gave that effect so overwhelming. He prayed that the sky moved air, which would send the sea breeze. It turned his eyes and looked towards the sea.
He heard a dog barking. He, too, maybe he was relying on the breeze, or swearing in their language. He looked again at the
large eucalyptus trees. More and more property.
The old man was tense. And your thoughts again began to swirl in his mind to wander. Fleeting thoughts.
The mother appeared to him and he found the child on a beach, holding a bucket of water, and liked to throw it on the feet of his mother, who scolded him but then smiled and asked for more water, and He ran to the sea with the bucket, more water, the mother was smiling from afar.
He looked again towards the large eucalyptus trees. It stared at him. The tree was tight in its rigidity. The old man kept staring at it, hoping it will animate.
But so, that there was gloomy, and the old man was afraid, because in the shadows appeared as a sinister figure.
And while retreating felt a little air. Then he rejoiced, for the sky and the sea had probably heard. And the great eucalyptus barely moved and seemed more cheerful.
The old man brightened up and back into bed, hoping to take 5 minutes of sleep.
After a while, 'she felt the breeze. It was sweet was the greatest pleasure.
And the old man fell asleep at dawn and slipped his mind in his dreams.

How To Cleanbirletti Aluminium Coffee Pot

REFLECTIONS ON LOVE STORY AND 1

The story that I started traces a love story.
But love is a mystery and should remain so.
Love is touched with light touches, do not you can enter easily, because always remains a mystery. You can talk about relationships but gently.
You can also talk about casual sex and this can be compared with love.
If love is a mystery, casual sex gives us some clues, there be some way to go, shows us vague links between man and woman. The mystery may still be violated in casual sex.
And then the real mystery deepens, why does not tolerate violations or false representations. Mystery does not want
necessarily mean that to describe it have to be a mystery writer. However something like this can help.
With casual sex, the mystery is violated, but the enigma remains deep.
This dual-track, Love with a capital and casual sex, on the other hand this is more than ever, not only in literature but is the picture of life and love stories.
Love is a beautiful music to a screeching sounds.
often intertwined with the search for a solitary pleasure, which often does not coincide with that of partners. Sometimes we talk about the pleasures strident, sometimes imaginary pleasures, often dreamed of pleasures and chased, and more often remembered pleasures, or better that they go along with the memories. The story is so touching
love is sacred and profane love, without wanting to define and launch with a look at the uneasy relationship between men and women, especially women's problems, because their problems and want to plot their course the streets of love.
With a curious look at women's world, impenetrable to the male. In the women's solidarity, capable of giving birth community. For the fights between women, able to split into two communities who had secular equilibrium. The strength of a woman who comes to the greatest sacrifices. Queen mother and the woman of education and growth of their children.
gaze curiously women in the world can not give us a deep knowledge, but may open a window of opportunity, a hope for knowledge.
The mystery of love and the mystery of the world women can be gently touched by our curiosity, but you can not sink into in but never get caught. And then, with patience, we must find ways to know oneself, to get in touch in some way with the profound mystery of our lives.
The story can be lively, if we are aware of our many difficulties if we allow ourselves to come out in our weakness, if you smile at our mistakes, if we show our doubts openly.
that can become the big questions around which can always turn to our history with the hope of unraveling of their shirts and get one day with a dose of safety to express them clearly to others.

How To Cleanbirletti Aluminium Coffee Pot

REFLECTIONS ON LOVE STORY AND 1

The story that I started traces a love story.
But love is a mystery and should remain so.
Love is touched with light touches, do not you can enter easily, because always remains a mystery. You can talk about relationships but gently.
You can also talk about casual sex and this can be compared with love.
If love is a mystery, casual sex gives us some clues, there be some way to go, shows us vague links between man and woman. The mystery may still be violated in casual sex.
And then the real mystery deepens, why does not tolerate violations or false representations. Mystery does not want
necessarily mean that to describe it have to be a mystery writer. However something like this can help.
With casual sex, the mystery is violated, but the enigma remains deep.
This dual-track, Love with a capital and casual sex, on the other hand this is more than ever, not only in literature but is the picture of life and love stories.
Love is a beautiful music to a screeching sounds.
often intertwined with the search for a solitary pleasure, which often does not coincide with that of partners. Sometimes we talk about the pleasures strident, sometimes imaginary pleasures, often dreamed of pleasures and chased, and more often remembered pleasures, or better that they go along with the memories. The story is so touching
love is sacred and profane love, without wanting to define and launch with a look at the uneasy relationship between men and women, especially women's problems, because their problems and want to plot their course the streets of love.
With a curious look at women's world, impenetrable to the male. In the women's solidarity, capable of giving birth community. For the fights between women, able to split into two communities who had secular equilibrium. The strength of a woman who comes to the greatest sacrifices. Queen mother and the woman of education and growth of their children.
gaze curiously women in the world can not give us a deep knowledge, but may open a window of opportunity, a hope for knowledge.
The mystery of love and the mystery of the world women can be gently touched by our curiosity, but you can not sink into in but never get caught. And then, with patience, we must find ways to know oneself, to get in touch in some way with the profound mystery of our lives.
The story can be lively, if we are aware of our many difficulties if we allow ourselves to come out in our weakness, if you smile at our mistakes, if we show our doubts openly.
that can become the big questions around which can always turn to our history with the hope of unraveling of their shirts and get one day with a dose of safety to express them clearly to others.

Forced Male Milking Movies

WATER

finally reach the sea and be alone with the sounds of nature

and smell the salty arrive with the roar of the waves;

and walk along the shoreline, taking care to avoid the water

and then run towards the wind to feel his caress;

and watch the horizon for

lost his eyes and count the dunes, one by one to get lost in the sand;

and feel free with your body and mind

and finally exit out of the tangle of their own turmoil ;

and can finally leave your heart and let it rock

noise Wind and sea

and hold it as a baby in her arms;

and hear the sound of waves and wind

and the rustle of the sand along with your breath,

and lost his eyes in the colors of 'water. And far

the horizon to see the outline of a boat;

to be on board and think and feel far away,

master of the sea on the whole only small boat

and greet the sea and embrace them in the eye, and think

from the boat that the earth seems so far away

and that you might not see a man on sand.

And feel the water rocking, moving with the wind;

and feel a drop of water that is brought ... who knows where .......

and lost his eyes in search of the boundary between sea and sky,

feel immersed in the great mystery of life ............

and I hear a beautiful peace their way through the conflict of thoughts inside.

and experience the thrill of beauty without realizing

e senza doverlo poi in qualche modo commentare,

perché troppo semplice e grande insieme................

E capire che la grande acqua è buona ....e sentire di volere

parlare al mare e al cielo e alla terra e alle barche

e a tutto quello che vedo e che sento........

E sit on the sand and take her hands;

and dig a hole and get to the water.

And feel a joy come from within

understand and to be back a little 'baby ....

Forced Male Milking Movies

WATER

finally reach the sea and be alone with the sounds of nature

and smell the salty arrive with the roar of the waves;

and walk along the shoreline, taking care to avoid the water

and then run towards the wind to feel his caress;

and watch the horizon for

lost his eyes and count the dunes, one by one to get lost in the sand;

and feel free with your body and mind

and finally exit out of the tangle of their own turmoil ;

and can finally leave your heart and let it rock

noise Wind and sea

and hold it as a baby in her arms;

and hear the sound of waves and wind

and the rustle of the sand along with your breath,

and lost his eyes in the colors of 'water. And far

the horizon to see the outline of a boat;

to be on board and think and feel far away,

master of the sea on the whole only small boat

and greet the sea and embrace them in the eye, and think

from the boat that the earth seems so far away

and that you might not see a man on sand.

And feel the water rocking, moving with the wind;

and feel a drop of water that is brought ... who knows where .......

and lost his eyes in search of the boundary between sea and sky,

feel immersed in the great mystery of life ............

and I hear a beautiful peace their way through the conflict of thoughts inside.

and experience the thrill of beauty without realizing

e senza doverlo poi in qualche modo commentare,

perché troppo semplice e grande insieme................

E capire che la grande acqua è buona ....e sentire di volere

parlare al mare e al cielo e alla terra e alle barche

e a tutto quello che vedo e che sento........

E sit on the sand and take her hands;

and dig a hole and get to the water.

And feel a joy come from within

understand and to be back a little 'baby ....

Quickbooks User 100 License

Reread Confessions of Zeno by Italo Svevo



Rereading the Confessions of Zeno by Italo Svevo brings us to a number of considerations.



The first consideration that the novel is an 'adventure of the soul as the author notes in the finale when it introduces its psycho-analysis and makes his points.

This is a novel in first person, which could be the story of the life of the protagonist, Zeno Cosini, and a series of episodes recounted in a greater whole. It is an adventure of the soul because the story always has a deep psychological look, that is a story of reflections the protagonist and his feelings in relation to his feelings, but without going into an analysis never boring and exasperated, is a show that always tries to be as simple as possible and to experience the feelings of the protagonist in the world around him.

Consciousness is just the story of the feelings experienced and how the protagonist has tried them in relation to the outside world, his affections, his loves, his vices.

The second consideration that in all the way there is a big smile, a sly look and good-natured, a pleasure to live in the story that moves irrepressibly and even under the most difficult, is not ostentatious merriment by force, instead it is the desire to face reality and not to flee in terror, is the courage to live the daily peeks at some point in the pages of the novel and the protagonist, a man who is not always a very capable and not always very practical, but in the end always comes out the winner over a world too competitive to a scenario of permanent war, a scenario that eventually makes its way into bullying the First World War and the considerations on the author's ability to self-destruction of humanity and man with the bomb in his hand that destroys the planet.

The third consideration, but not too personal, is that the novel should be considered from the end, last chapter on psycho-analysis on the events of the protagonist and his analyst and then gradually start on, as if the author wanted to tell his adventures of the soul in a psycho-analytic framework, or at least the 'He tells the whole story, referring back to key moments of their lives or memories of particular importance. On the other hand in his brief preface the medical psychoanalyst, Dr. S., decides to publish the script for Revenge of the patient who has left her care and tried to cheat him of his time and his amazing therapeutic interventions. And in the short preamble, the protagonist himself is linked to the recommendations of the doctor to write down the memories that come from dreams but it feels that much gli sfugge, anche se gli sembra di aver ricordato di quando era in fasce, di essersi rivisto quasi neonato, e si mette a fare raccomandazioni a quel bimbetto che gli è riapparso, sulle difficoltà di sfuggire alle malattie e sulle difficoltà dei rapporti.

Una quarta considerazione è che il romanzo è l’esame di una ricerca psico-analitica ed insieme una critica della psico-analisi che viene messa in luce come un tentativo terapeutico però senza troppe pretese e soprattutto che non si sa su quali basi scientifiche poggi. Da considerare che il romanzo è del 1923 e che la psico-analisi dovrebbe essere ancora in fasce ma evidentemente ha avuto già straordinari sviluppi, perché viene esaminata con cura e ogni critica is very thorough and precise and the novel seems to have been written fifty or even ninety years later.









The novel is divided into six chapters.

In the first, entitled the smoke, the protagonist tells his smoking habit and how many times to no avail himself has vowed to quit smoking and how to find notes in many of his memories with us in writing, which means last cigarette because he committed himself in the attempt, it failed. It tells of a time I tried making himself admitted to a nursing home where he is entrusted to the care and supervision of indefinable age a little woman, between forty and sixty, named John. And his talks with Joan, always carried out in an attempt to corrupt it. And how in the end drunk together with Joan, which softened the wine's rains in the room 11 cigarettes in Hungary. And how at one point he thought that the doctor could have a good time with his wife and he felt the irresistible impulse to return home to check and how he left the clinic to go home.

The second chapter, entitled "the death of my father," born from an event that recalls the event with the usual notation "date, my father's death, U.S.." (Last cigarette). The protagonist tells his father's last period of his illness, as his father's death has the hit, and everything is tied to a sense of guilt, the fact that the doctor is strongly recommended not to tire and keep it in bed, he obeyed almost blindly to the doctor and nurse and that kept him in strength in bed, in which the father had a rebellion but rather a time of extreme vitality that was the last and he raised his hand against his face and struck him and then fell to the ground, dead. This left the bewildered protagonist, which enriches the story with his academic failures, its passage from one faculty to another, the comments of her father, calling him the nickname by which the University, and the guilt and anger with to the doctor who had recommended to force him to fill the bed part of a series of memories of some value, and enrich the soul of this journey of the protagonist who wanders through memories.

In the third chapter, the story of my marriage, the protagonist tells her story with Malfenti sisters, Ada, Alberta and Augusta, and how he fell in love with Ada, she was always rejected. and then he tried with Alberta, with the same result and his dislike for Guido, that at some point enters the home and was immediately greeted with great respect for his ability to play the violin and its attempt to compete with him musically successful in a disaster, and held séances by Guido that he tried to take the table by moving around in the dark. It recounts these events with taste and all that they did fall into the arms of Augusta, the least beautiful of the three sisters, but in the end will prove a capable wife and above all a loving companion.

In chapter four, wife and lover, talking about his love for Carla, a rather unfortunate that the girl was introduced by a friend who was very ill and died, and of which he fell in love, so much to look for a singing teacher, who then take away his love and marry her.

In the fifth chapter, The Story of a trade association, said the commercial company that put together he and Guido, a deal that throw themselves to buy copper sulphate, the office life and the beautiful Carmen, who had given a joyful boat ride, then the evil that takes hold of Ada, the wife of Guido of Graves' disease on which runs a long joke, then the crisis of Guido, his way of trying to make personal gains, the death of Guido suicide that is sure to save him but for a series of unfortunate circumstances dies. And the fact that Zeno for a terrible mistake to follow in another car funeral and realizing it too late.

In chapter six, the end of psychoanalysis, the author talks about his decision to end the psychoanalytic therapy because after 6 months did not notice any improvement, the situation is even worse than before. E 'War broke out, but in the city (Trieste) get bored more than before. For the past year has not written anything, has now decided to move closer to the dear sheets and write the story of his care., Because the disease was finally discovered, the author speaks of the Oedipus complex, is the evil that it combines Oedipus in rivalry with his father and love for his mother. Dr. S. wants to keep his writing and the confirmation that the therapy has earned him strong emotions. To which the author recalls the emotions received and compare with May roses, images that ran behind and at one point had the impression to achieve, but then realizes that his inventions, creations, with whom he lives. The doctor recorded the images and reported the author for young children, then the school, which was accompanied by a maid, Kate, while his brother remained at home happy, and this was an image that is repeated often, Kate who accompanied him seemed increasingly old, then gradually realized that his brother envied him because he went to school. Another memory is a white room, his brother asked him the spoon, he asks a little of its sugar sparking the ire of Cathleen. The images disappear, reappear sunny, he is small and plays under the table, to a certain clings to the point of underwear and a bottle of ink drops from the table and goes to the head and finirgli stain her dress, underwear, skirt and pants mom's dad. The images they go, with regret on his part. It tells of another interview with Dr. S., who remembers him and sees the child away a cage, inside which there is a woman, blonde and shapely, and her desire to eat. And the doctor asks if her mother was blonde and buxom and he tells him so, that the grandmother was not. Now he felt healed, and the doctor confirmed that he was a convalescent who had not yet been used to living without a fever. And in the next interview simulates a dream that feeds the foot the woman pictured in a cage. But he realizes that the images slowly disappeared and were not. I think I made a major scientific discovery on the colors and how to perceive them. And confident confides in Dr. S., who says he has the retina more sensitive to effects of nicotine, and then start smoking again disappointed as a turkish. In the end, decides to consult his general practitioner, Dr Paul, and ask advice on psycho-analysis. But then does not have the courage and then you go and that makes the analysis of urine. And he is convinced now that they have diabetes and speaks with his wife who bursts into tears. But after a few hours, Dr. Paul calls on the phone and informed him that there is no trace of sugar in his urine. Law celebrated the work of Dr. Beard on neurasthenia. Skip

together with his family two days of vacation in Lucinico. If he goes to meditate in the river es'imbatte in Teresina, a farmer who knows that for many years and has grown. Try to touch it but that takes it around. The war is now advancing. The family moved to Turin, he ventures in the fields and runs into a patrol of Austrian soldiers who threaten him and then they take back by a soldier who asked him about the war on which both are questioning but can not answer. And the novel ends with the uncertainty that is driving the war and with the thought a man carrying a bomb that exploded in his face strikingly for the entire planet.

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Reread Confessions of Zeno by Italo Svevo



Rereading the Confessions of Zeno by Italo Svevo brings us to a number of considerations.



The first consideration that the novel is an 'adventure of the soul as the author notes in the finale when it introduces its psycho-analysis and makes his points.

This is a novel in first person, which could be the story of the life of the protagonist, Zeno Cosini, and a series of episodes recounted in a greater whole. It is an adventure of the soul because the story always has a deep psychological look, that is a story of reflections the protagonist and his feelings in relation to his feelings, but without going into an analysis never boring and exasperated, is a show that always tries to be as simple as possible and to experience the feelings of the protagonist in the world around him.

Consciousness is just the story of the feelings experienced and how the protagonist has tried them in relation to the outside world, his affections, his loves, his vices.

The second consideration that in all the way there is a big smile, a sly look and good-natured, a pleasure to live in the story that moves irrepressibly and even under the most difficult, is not ostentatious merriment by force, instead it is the desire to face reality and not to flee in terror, is the courage to live the daily peeks at some point in the pages of the novel and the protagonist, a man who is not always a very capable and not always very practical, but in the end always comes out the winner over a world too competitive to a scenario of permanent war, a scenario that eventually makes its way into bullying the First World War and the considerations on the author's ability to self-destruction of humanity and man with the bomb in his hand that destroys the planet.

The third consideration, but not too personal, is that the novel should be considered from the end, last chapter on psycho-analysis on the events of the protagonist and his analyst and then gradually start on, as if the author wanted to tell his adventures of the soul in a psycho-analytic framework, or at least the 'He tells the whole story, referring back to key moments of their lives or memories of particular importance. On the other hand in his brief preface the medical psychoanalyst, Dr. S., decides to publish the script for Revenge of the patient who has left her care and tried to cheat him of his time and his amazing therapeutic interventions. And in the short preamble, the protagonist himself is linked to the recommendations of the doctor to write down the memories that come from dreams but it feels that much gli sfugge, anche se gli sembra di aver ricordato di quando era in fasce, di essersi rivisto quasi neonato, e si mette a fare raccomandazioni a quel bimbetto che gli è riapparso, sulle difficoltà di sfuggire alle malattie e sulle difficoltà dei rapporti.

Una quarta considerazione è che il romanzo è l’esame di una ricerca psico-analitica ed insieme una critica della psico-analisi che viene messa in luce come un tentativo terapeutico però senza troppe pretese e soprattutto che non si sa su quali basi scientifiche poggi. Da considerare che il romanzo è del 1923 e che la psico-analisi dovrebbe essere ancora in fasce ma evidentemente ha avuto già straordinari sviluppi, perché viene esaminata con cura e ogni critica is very thorough and precise and the novel seems to have been written fifty or even ninety years later.









The novel is divided into six chapters.

In the first, entitled the smoke, the protagonist tells his smoking habit and how many times to no avail himself has vowed to quit smoking and how to find notes in many of his memories with us in writing, which means last cigarette because he committed himself in the attempt, it failed. It tells of a time I tried making himself admitted to a nursing home where he is entrusted to the care and supervision of indefinable age a little woman, between forty and sixty, named John. And his talks with Joan, always carried out in an attempt to corrupt it. And how in the end drunk together with Joan, which softened the wine's rains in the room 11 cigarettes in Hungary. And how at one point he thought that the doctor could have a good time with his wife and he felt the irresistible impulse to return home to check and how he left the clinic to go home.

The second chapter, entitled "the death of my father," born from an event that recalls the event with the usual notation "date, my father's death, U.S.." (Last cigarette). The protagonist tells his father's last period of his illness, as his father's death has the hit, and everything is tied to a sense of guilt, the fact that the doctor is strongly recommended not to tire and keep it in bed, he obeyed almost blindly to the doctor and nurse and that kept him in strength in bed, in which the father had a rebellion but rather a time of extreme vitality that was the last and he raised his hand against his face and struck him and then fell to the ground, dead. This left the bewildered protagonist, which enriches the story with his academic failures, its passage from one faculty to another, the comments of her father, calling him the nickname by which the University, and the guilt and anger with to the doctor who had recommended to force him to fill the bed part of a series of memories of some value, and enrich the soul of this journey of the protagonist who wanders through memories.

In the third chapter, the story of my marriage, the protagonist tells her story with Malfenti sisters, Ada, Alberta and Augusta, and how he fell in love with Ada, she was always rejected. and then he tried with Alberta, with the same result and his dislike for Guido, that at some point enters the home and was immediately greeted with great respect for his ability to play the violin and its attempt to compete with him musically successful in a disaster, and held séances by Guido that he tried to take the table by moving around in the dark. It recounts these events with taste and all that they did fall into the arms of Augusta, the least beautiful of the three sisters, but in the end will prove a capable wife and above all a loving companion.

In chapter four, wife and lover, talking about his love for Carla, a rather unfortunate that the girl was introduced by a friend who was very ill and died, and of which he fell in love, so much to look for a singing teacher, who then take away his love and marry her.

In the fifth chapter, The Story of a trade association, said the commercial company that put together he and Guido, a deal that throw themselves to buy copper sulphate, the office life and the beautiful Carmen, who had given a joyful boat ride, then the evil that takes hold of Ada, the wife of Guido of Graves' disease on which runs a long joke, then the crisis of Guido, his way of trying to make personal gains, the death of Guido suicide that is sure to save him but for a series of unfortunate circumstances dies. And the fact that Zeno for a terrible mistake to follow in another car funeral and realizing it too late.

In chapter six, the end of psychoanalysis, the author talks about his decision to end the psychoanalytic therapy because after 6 months did not notice any improvement, the situation is even worse than before. E 'War broke out, but in the city (Trieste) get bored more than before. For the past year has not written anything, has now decided to move closer to the dear sheets and write the story of his care., Because the disease was finally discovered, the author speaks of the Oedipus complex, is the evil that it combines Oedipus in rivalry with his father and love for his mother. Dr. S. wants to keep his writing and the confirmation that the therapy has earned him strong emotions. To which the author recalls the emotions received and compare with May roses, images that ran behind and at one point had the impression to achieve, but then realizes that his inventions, creations, with whom he lives. The doctor recorded the images and reported the author for young children, then the school, which was accompanied by a maid, Kate, while his brother remained at home happy, and this was an image that is repeated often, Kate who accompanied him seemed increasingly old, then gradually realized that his brother envied him because he went to school. Another memory is a white room, his brother asked him the spoon, he asks a little of its sugar sparking the ire of Cathleen. The images disappear, reappear sunny, he is small and plays under the table, to a certain clings to the point of underwear and a bottle of ink drops from the table and goes to the head and finirgli stain her dress, underwear, skirt and pants mom's dad. The images they go, with regret on his part. It tells of another interview with Dr. S., who remembers him and sees the child away a cage, inside which there is a woman, blonde and shapely, and her desire to eat. And the doctor asks if her mother was blonde and buxom and he tells him so, that the grandmother was not. Now he felt healed, and the doctor confirmed that he was a convalescent who had not yet been used to living without a fever. And in the next interview simulates a dream that feeds the foot the woman pictured in a cage. But he realizes that the images slowly disappeared and were not. I think I made a major scientific discovery on the colors and how to perceive them. And confident confides in Dr. S., who says he has the retina more sensitive to effects of nicotine, and then start smoking again disappointed as a turkish. In the end, decides to consult his general practitioner, Dr Paul, and ask advice on psycho-analysis. But then does not have the courage and then you go and that makes the analysis of urine. And he is convinced now that they have diabetes and speaks with his wife who bursts into tears. But after a few hours, Dr. Paul calls on the phone and informed him that there is no trace of sugar in his urine. Law celebrated the work of Dr. Beard on neurasthenia. Skip

together with his family two days of vacation in Lucinico. If he goes to meditate in the river es'imbatte in Teresina, a farmer who knows that for many years and has grown. Try to touch it but that takes it around. The war is now advancing. The family moved to Turin, he ventures in the fields and runs into a patrol of Austrian soldiers who threaten him and then they take back by a soldier who asked him about the war on which both are questioning but can not answer. And the novel ends with the uncertainty that is driving the war and with the thought a man carrying a bomb that exploded in his face strikingly for the entire planet.

Showdown Fish Locater

Treat for souls in torment



One day I met a woman who violently struck me right on the tibia and fibula with a kick of one of its guns, after having hit several times with the insightful and whipped on the genitals with a small catapult on the brain.

was armed with any kind of weapons, including those of seduction, he used at will as and when wanted, and he practiced in an unpredictable way, as indeed should be expected. He had weapons of speech, one of those fairy tales and lies, but most of all she liked to show off his own arms, his fisicaccio, warned that anyone who dared look at him. However, there were so many brave men who are not intimidated own, and then came out that she had too many guns and three machine guns that he carried in his cart, along with the catapult, to whips, chains and knives, of which there were in abundance especially oriental daggers, and chemical weapons of all kinds, perfumes, pestilential smells, sins of smell, small cans spraytan made in Taiwan that could destroy whole armies, who were close to the gluttony of which the His bag was full of fatal attractions ..

A 'I pity the other women rescued. He told me he needed me to do more careful where you rest your eyes and I said I had my eyes and leaned from all alone and I could not dominate and that in fact it seemed to me that an exaggerated look any could give rise to a armed response to which she said that look was still an invasion of an area and others that I had to wait for the answers if we let them go free. I was altering and I was struck by a dose of withering insults and wild type male chauvinist and then asked the meaning, but none of those present knew something and then we went to look in the dictionary but but even there there was nothing the keeper of the dictionary gave us directions for a fee a lavish tip, and look up an entire library and then also dissatisfied with a nightclub and an art gallery for which we were slowly on the art of applications that was turning wildly at that time. While we were engrossed in research we noticed a group of people watching us and whispering to each other and we asked him to speak and what we said a little choir that was not our business and we had to worry about ... .. Our Zebedee and then started to worry about, because we had all the reasons why the situation was becoming critical and the temperature was beginning rising dizzily, maybe they were better magnetic or electric fields, we felt that our cells were like magnet and together we felt would make a terrible heat as if we were all to roast in a large microwave oven. The fact is that when the temperature reached 80 degrees on that I do not remember what good match, because I did not have no time to read any manual and then even if I had I'm sure I would not have read because I do not is a lazy type who does not like to read this I would not say rather than the instructions are almost always in a myriad of languages \u200b\u200band you can easily find a good and when you do not understand why it is found the translation of the translation of the translation ... .. but I did not have a thermometer handy?! However, we began to melt and all our souls began to wander out of curiosity but then when they entered a room and found themselves with a group of frantic were taken literally kick your ass, and they were useless complaints and requests for more education because they continued to kick up the backside because our complaints do not you hear them and there they saw their own but by their nature kicked in the pants also anime anything unfortunate happening to him involuntarily under fire. And we drove in a stadium where he was to begin a concert singer. The public was warming up with the wave and so we were taken on one side of the stage and pushed by the crowd of spectators on the arms on the other side, passing from hand to hand in that vortex. We wondered what that could mean everything to us and we made another of the most relentless questions, but the debate could not begin with that noise, but fortunately we were thrown into the group outside the stadium and we ended up in a pond that was near where four blissfully flutter geese.

Our spirits both individual and group were at last to recover in a natural environment more in keeping with the spirit of the pond but the water was really filthy stinking so as to give the sick also to the souls of the purest of us imagine that we were always immersed in thoughts unlikely amendable, and we were always with his head in the clouds, so that even the geese were there in that evil stench of the pond and began to think he was poisoned, but no one was openly that thought or felt at least to admit it in public, so we sat astride the geese take to the skies and hoping that we were almost lifeless with terror and the stench and the environment that seemed haunted but got a truck full of putrid water and we dumped him in the us and the ducks, which started squawking scared, let alone that we were light on the back light, so short was the terror that took those poor animals that ran away and took off and we with them, because we were not even in a position to go down, we were so scared and weak.

The flight of ducks was still a new experience, a little reassured there was finally an experience best suited to us in the new dimension if one may say so, but even if they could who might prohibit him to the bottom is not yet issued any edict that forbids him to even if we do not have a great experience on the laws that emanate from all sides so that they do not know hardly anyone and even the experts are so often lost in the run and someone saw them lost take refuge in some great book for groped to find a little relief from the fear and the threat of madness, if we are best suited, because the flight is still a mysterious climb into space, which often do not have a precise idea, and that leaves us always fascinated and troubled, because there are together in space and time and feel we've both put together, and we feel we have all the charm and awe, except that just at the climax, one by one we lost the balance turn to a group of geese and we ended up entangled in the branches of a pine tree, which was full of resin that we clung to all parts of the soul, and there was no way to take it off from him. We were virtually prisoners of that mush when there was a strong wind, and he unleashed a storm that made the first big rock and then the tops of pine trees growing wildly if wrapped and carried them away and below us in the group because we were traveling in two pine trees together in the storm. The fact is that the pine trees when they do not know how the flight and after landing because we thought that the journey was long we had arranged astride the trunk also upset because everything had liberated much of the resin that we had become accustomed to good and do not feel sticky anymore, rather we splashed, but the wind dropped suddenly and we were thrown violently into the mud of the shifting sands of a swamp. We were about to be swallowed and we cling with all our might to a branch of pine tree that was near there, and how do the poor sweetbreads to strive not to be forever swallowed by quicksand, struggling with every effort, el 'one on our souls trying to escape from the miserable fate, and desperate clinging together, so that eventually one of us would sink under the weight of others, and felt a heart-rending cry that cursed the soul of them Mortais death or you do not know how to write good of all and then was taken severely that it was not the mode of expression of a soul even though he was in danger, but that it did not take own feelings and insisted on more and more expressions of crossroads and not really worthy and unworthy, and in the end we were forced, by the need to keep up on, to let her cruel fate.

A snake, perhaps an eel, was wallowing in the mud and we got too happy on its back and rubbed it on his back to clean up the mud and resin that we had on him, was a show that was a bit of tenderness and horror together, but he did not notice or at least pretended pretended well if this remains a doubt that if after a while 'time had to realize it, because he started to make some big shudder every time we felt we got to dash, but we were attacked with force. Eventually anguillone stopped in a sort of hole to prepare for dinner which consisted of noodles in soup accompanied with a little salad which was very delicious and everyone noticed that he ate no bread and no seasoning and we thought that maybe he was on a diet because he was rather fat fat I would say maybe even a little overweight and was anzianotto and perhaps should have had diabetes or something but not necessarily resent is that there cared much about his health problems, however after he had nearly finished he turned to us who watched and we were sure to be invisible to his eyes and gave us the grand gestures asking if we wanted to encourage, to which we answered in chorus that it did not seem polite to the anguillone persisted and made it clear that he was not the case to compliment you could see we were the souls in pain and does not touch food for some time. And this was to open a debate between us, whether to accept, because souls are pure spirit, and we then those noodles in broth is not that there was great enthusiasm for this among us, of course not to offend the anguillone that so generously gave them to us, I have never liked the worms, the Chinese are said to like them, in fact one of us had to be a Chinese because he did not just stories and ate too us. At scolded someone who does not seem right, but that did not have to understand our language well because he turned and laughed and laughed at him saying anything that you could see he was a jolly fellow who took it or at least a good life or whatever it was our situation, did not complain about anything and was always smiling. Given the whole situation I proposed two companions to tour patrol nearby, and soon all were in agreement, however, told the Chinese to remain to guard, the guard that I wondered to myself, but the China had to have eaten the leaves and turned with a grin so flattered that I was left wordless, petrified by so much simplicity, and then intervened and said that there was no need of guards and no one thought to be clever, and the Chinese looked at me with a big smile and meanwhile someone else was offended by the fact that the smart I'd just said and began to give us a thrashing with all your soul and a good pace. He came to divide the anguillone that he realized that a fight had broken out among us, and said it was not a show of his choice and that would have gladly paid if we did see some combat boxing, which was that the noble art he preferred, even though he had in mind something diabolical. We improvised a ring to please, we planted a stick in the corners, legammo them with makeshift ropes made of branches and leaves, but the anguillone disturbed and sometimes if they ate one the fact is that he was greedy and ate the leaf could not be made just in time to put it and he ate it and we were forced to abandon attempts to build the ring also because we were afraid we might hurt that you did not want to eat well while some of us breathless and short crossing his arms and plunged together into a deep sleep because all those events together so that we had been subjected bustle we had we were under stress stress we needed a little rest is absolutely not asking for the eternal rest because we were not sure if that was the time we were still in their Surge I would say that we were perhaps overly excited too excited and could not keep that pace in fact I wonder how we had done until then that we had not been given soft drugs or who knows maybe some hard drugs remains a mystery how one can dope the poor souls in pain who do not know where to go and end up wandering in space and time without a clear destination.

Upon awakening, because we woke up we normally do, with big yawns, each of which stretched back in touch after being abandoned in the loving arms of Morpheus, who pulled up on one side those who pretended to be asleep to continue Sleepy, Who Shagged Me in a short way and some another, I said wake up, we realized that we were in a different environment than before, which had changed the scene, we were in a dense fog and could not see an inch of his nose and we tried to understand how it happened suddenly the weather forecast does not I had just spoken, and so the images appear blurry and then saw a few trees and we walked but it took a train to sudden moments we shoved all in and then we realized that we were near a major rail line in a rather special because it immediately darted after another train in the opposite direction and we all wondered how it was possible, and we had not done in time that they began to dart from all sides and then had to be a major hub Rail someone suggested but someone else pointed out that they were all very high-speed trains would not lose nearly all the pens and they had to be very careful. We retreated a few feet and glimpsed the sea. It was a sea of \u200b\u200bstrange colors, the waves are colored in red, others a pearl gray, the other a pastel green, a sea crossing with the rainbow colored sky. The rocky coast appeared but small beaches opened the gap between the rocks and caves.