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My first experience the incredible women I met that week

I do not write about your love,

worn on your hands at my age.

On your six children just grow

on which you died,

and do not like to speak.

I would not hurt the lack of dreams,

you do not cut it,

ripped you .

a child guess your luck,

but still smiling,

still dream,

now you can play.

few years Crone strange to many,

to those who left,

those who died prematurely.

Women almost newlywed

hours you will sometimes desperate

because he does not return ...

hear your voice every week,

as a penalty of hope,

but what you do when you miss,

when they ask for it,

when you feel so alone,

that pain makes you doubt

and ask yourself the same questions?

Women of this village,

litter every day with the delicacy

of your bare feet silent

and resist, always resist

until dawn.

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The Roman park and Rousseau

in the park is a miniature jungle
high grass cover glass lions
red couch shouting between moist green highway while fleeing the giant beasts stampeding

the red petals of green pods arise
tiny white beautiful women in ecstasy
greet the sun
indifferent
closed its shell clam like a machine shop clipper

the jungle beset us withdrew to inframínimo
where an ant is a powerful beast and make treads
shake the immensity

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THE DAY I MET

Amadub was called, but we all knew as Ali and not because that was his nickname. Arrived without More papers was clear his goal, his brief stay on the island and the direction we take. For now supplemented his identity to Ali, to start a new life after her emotional breakdown that made him cross to the other side. He enrolled in school Guanarteme official languages, as Ali (and Amadub) lived on the street Cid.
His height was about two meters and had difficulty finding shoes that pair of 48 which was feet. He looked younger by fat dripping skin and gave it smoothness.
From the first time I saw him I tried to touch her face, the softness that we foresee in him calling me. Y. ..., how apañaría to me if, among other things, the height difference was already a problem, even for the air does not take the words on the road and be intelligible language? I love challenges!. That thought made me laugh and trying to strive further in that crusade. I am well!, Some o. ... Morruda enough and ask him to heaven that I can not insert anything in the head!. I like the textures, smells and colors, and Ali was a compendium of all this, how am I going to punish? I thought. hehe.
waited to be seated in that class soulless. Our first day of class, 15 seats and a tiny window high enough to that Amadub spot outside and I sensed what was behind walls. Yes, my stature in many cases encouraged the development of my creativity and imagination and allowed to give color to the reality that often did not leave the grayscale.
I went to an empty chair, and although I had to go near him, I managed to look like stilts that had been tangled in mine, stumbling knowingly. "Pardon" he said. "Took place" I said with a smile. Looked at me with surprise (there were few French words I knew, but in many languages \u200b\u200blearned to apologize as a strategy, as a blunder post was part of my life.) The next step was easy. I knew that I would understand, "you have a lint on the front" and ... Goal achieved!. I like to take it off gently enough to check if the texture was exactly as I imagined and ... Gentlemen, I was short! Ali for me was "Peach Skin." gave a little start and the expression on her face was a mixture of annoyance and surprise (as if in their country, women do not dare to touch the man, thought and quietly answered me ,.... in mine either lol) .
not remember if that day's class gave us a teacher, only that we looked at several times sideways, crossing shy glances and removing them when we realized that the other was bent on the same feat. I remember feeling that I sensed where he mixed the strangeness, the trouble or maybe some anger. That was enough to cheer that tedious afternoon and smile at myself every time I came her image. Shy
looks!, Hehe. What he was as shy was his not wanting to be noticed by their undocumented status, which I was a shy, was ... rather a form of flirtation that women sometimes use to show in some sense. The reality was very different from that appearance, shameless was a feature of our bone.

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AMADUB

This is the particular vision of the artist Fernando Bayona. His kiss of Judas and the other two pictures have provoked the outrage of many of Granada, justifying that violate their religion. Citing Elvira Lindo "... other hand, should be a matter of pride for the military believers in a faith that does not threaten to break their necks to that dares to make a joke." defending the artist says jaen. Whether or not joke, I'm with the interpretation that, free, everyone can or will do. Greetings. foto.lady.maton

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through the blinds ajar out dancing the dark and dies in blue puddles at the foot of the balustrade
hear the silence that left the violin before being devoured by his only
velvet coffin cry flowers in a vase too large for a small table as
and a woman in a kimono shows the secret entrance to the small Japanese garden wallpaper

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love Matisse

Sunday morning, clear day and very, very sunny, gentle breeze, the ideal temperature for a swim at sea. Hearty breakfast and relaxed, no rush watch my buttered toast in the freshly baked or slow down my desire to prolong the conversation with my love. NO, we take it all in stride, as they should and we like to do every weekend. So, as mandated by the ritual, we put on a bathing suit, a backpack with a bottle of water and some dried fruit and this time without Musa, my wonderful dog, who stays drooling without understanding how we get it not as usual do, with the first rays of sun. So instead of us out to walk, go down the ramp of the garage, we put the beach chairs in the car, looked askance at the package Cover the bike with your atrapapolvo and without saying words that we together will soon be the next exit, to the northern beaches, our Harley, pulling motor and freedom. With faces full of wind. Breakfast baptizing the road and in every cove and crystal blue waters north.
This morning we chose to be with Neptune, the god of our coast, where an abundance of crabs, rocks, dogs with owners complacent, and the seafaring people of all peoples of the East.


choose to be, to live our Sunday as well. Of course then comes the cool shower, lunch made between two and as good as the above the sofa that nestles us and gives us intense moments placid.

? To when and where is that person, I seek and I find, who likes to enjoy a love lived every weekend like this?
candidates are accepted.

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Why men like women's dress?

Last night I had the fortune or misfortune as how or who look able to witness the endless parade of Carnival. It was hours and hours where the main attraction was to see the rivers of men and women once a year for dress showing off or enjoy the party. I love the creativity and originality some / os, the other cheek, daring and sadly and increasing every year, I dislike the hooliganism, drinking till you drop and the consequent loss of the essence of the celebration of Carnival. And I took a hard blow for me once in the middle of a fight between two crazy people in one of the Mogollon. The pinch of rum that I had taken down to the soles of the feet and went to house because after the fun was over ...

In this window I can peek at the parade of men and women all style and color, this time me a question arises

Why men dress like women?

Do you give morbo?, Do you feel more graceful? Would you like to step into the shoes of a woman to see what it feels?

Will not allowed the rest of the year show an important part of themselves, their femininity?

The truth is that the vast majority kids and adults who participated in the parade showing women's outfits, dancers, nurses, old ladies, storybook characters (Little Red Riding Hood, Snow White, Belle ...) schoolgirls, etc.

At first, we can be nice depending on the chosen costume and grace that has to take. Others fall into vulgarity and is extremely rude. There is always some that amid the uproar, the party and the mask feels the freedom to express a part of himself that in daily life can not or will not do.

Lately I is also the head as boxes in a matter of suits that are good for men's cultural role, machismo or tastes. Man has evolved somewhat or very poco en el vestir. Mientras nosotras cada vez más podemos vestir según nos venga en gana (faldas, vestidos, pantalones cortos, largos, camisas… En cambio a ellos es raro verlos salir de los “pantalones”.

Me he puesto a indagar en el maravilloso Google a ver si encuentro algo sobre el tema y leo un artículo de un periódico argentino que habla de los crossdresser, hombres que se visten de mujer para conocer su sensibilidad femenina y divertirse. También me encuentro con un artículo que va más allá de la pregunta que me he hecho yo anteriormente.

¿Por qué resulta gracioso y atrevido que un hombre se disguised as a woman and instead if the reverse is not true?

I throw this in here to see what we think we women on these issues

Why do men dress as women?, Why if the reverse is not funny ?, "We like women who dress like men at times?

My friends

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We propose a

I propose a recipe for a gourmet, easy to do, not fat but not thin and has a touch Jeje aphrodisiac:

Gulas NOODLES IN A TOUCH OF CINNAMON.

as easy as boiling the noodles in salted water. On the other hand, skip the guides with a few cloves of minced garlic. Drain the noodles and fry lightly with the guides. Serve. And the final touch a light rain sprinkle of cinnamon. And enjoy.