Canto and the arms pitiful 'the captain
that 'The great tomb of Christ freed.
Very oprò he co 's discretion and with the hand,
suffer a lot in the glorious purchase;
and there s'oppose van Hell, and in vain
armed themselves in Asia and Libya the mixed population.
The Ciel gave him favor, and in the holy
signs reduced his fellow wanderers.
that 'The great tomb of Christ freed.
Very oprò he co 's discretion and with the hand,
suffer a lot in the glorious purchase;
and there s'oppose van Hell, and in vain
armed themselves in Asia and Libya the mixed population.
The Ciel gave him favor, and in the holy
signs reduced his fellow wanderers.
This is the first song of the Gerusalemme Liberata, which now occurs in a vain attempt to make sense of my recent undertakings. In the best academic tradition I intend to appeal to the words of someone else to explain what I think and do, thoughts and actions right now are moving dangerously close to the martyrdom of the Crusades and ethical / emotional.
I wonder why you need to reach out to suffering and paranoia, cross oceans of tears and sleepless nights with the sole purpose of doing good for someone else, so why I have decided to wrap myself in this shroud of blue and white and play teresadicalcutta when I represent the anathema of any living martyr crusader and may come to mind. I do not have I know what's going on, but in all honesty at this time if I could put in hand a white shield with a red cross above and a helmet with a beautiful veil of iron on the face and I myself would take them off for the Saracen infidel.
Sure I could have chosen a better writer for my erudite quotation, since that rate, as you teach me, it was a hopeless fool, but perhaps it is this detail that took me from him. Something tells me that at this time and I Torquato well as the passion for words, we have more in common ...
I know nothing of the Gerusalemme Liberata: it said that I have this black hole in the brain that opens up a fourth dimension in total ignorance of Italian literature and medieval history course I am not proud of that, but I do not see why not hide much more than my inadequate knowledge of the Gerusalemme Liberata not prevent me from also recognize some similarities between me and his dangerous players . On the other hand is a story that deals with the Crusades, love, sacrifice, good and bad feelings, right? And I think this is enough. It 's true I'll be mad as well as rate, but unlike him, I caught up in the plot, there are up to my neck and I have every right to talk about it and grok them, not that I am making this up to the art to please the patron of the moment . At most I can distract the hamster for ten minutes, but you will understand, that strikes do not miss a plenary session of the Vatican.
So yes, when I feel like a martyr, and although this does not do me honor, I need, for a moment to compose an apology myself. The five-minute complaints are granted to anyone, and then we have a right to cross-tearful confession: after having removed any joy in the happiness, the Buondi has given us at least the right to grieve for our evil and the other, so each When we suffer we must not do is look up and wonder why, that's where he and his stubborn silence and transparency will help us to feel much better.
There once was a man who had decided that I should take care of him. This man, who can not even give a nickname so many and such are his qualities, is putting me in very serious trouble.
Anyone who knows me knows that I do not feel exactly towards men of maternal feelings, which at most in the darkest hours of my life I have fed their subsidiaries and at best they have made these people flee to their heels, with ' it should be.
Besides who would ever want to father a daughter like me? None, I tell you. And that's okay. Open and closed parentheses.
But anyhow: I was a child, a lover or a friend, but never a nurse and I always gone well so that the human cases willing to let them take care of Melanie Viacolvento. I thought.
But it seems that at some point touch everyone through new waters, so here I am with all the stuffed head, hands caressing and ready stethoscope to auscultate the heart palpitations of the heart suffering from this fantastic little man in continuous to be madly in love. The typical twist that moves the plot of the story is not it? The spoiled and selfish
protagonist who suddenly finds himself to deal with the needs of others. A significant slice of the plankton to killer whales in Hollywood. But give me a
complaints, very unprofessional. An aside postmodernists, those who love them as playwrights and writers of the 80s.
I understand that martyrdom does not ask for rewards, I realized that even then the reward comes complete with feathered wings and beam, but I'm not a vocation for teresadicalcutta but only out of necessity, I think I deserve a thank you every now and then I do not know a smile, maybe a kind word no?
But no because I have to argue over the patient's attention to other things, in this case last night with the dogs, three nights before with Piero Chiambretti, also note that the patient continues to ask insistently is given exclusively to him, suffers, poor angel, and do not know what to do. It suffers
then for my sake. So I as well as being the victim of his illness, I would also be the executioner. And the plot becomes increasingly complex.
A psychological drama?! Who knows, I'm just the actress.
Nevertheless, I decided that this man should not feel bad for my sake, and down some loving care, soft words, kind thoughts. Too bad that all turned against me, given that this continues to complain of severe headaches, heartburn and pains in the chest, left side.
His heart does not stand up, despite my complete dedication to the cause and painful. The patient needs a drastic cure, I say that I'm his nurse - qualified personnel - a pity that he perfect hypochondriac he has developed a dosage which, while requiring my presence, I was unclear. So I was the grim
laborers, nothing more and nothing less than strong arms for our fields, or do not know, hands on our keyboards, our neck white uniforms, standing for our grape harvest, and let's stop here first that my passion for the comparisons might touch pornography.
So this is the meaning of my crusade! I will, I fervently hope that my total abdication of personal dignity and self-esteem makes him happy! That my dozens of hours weekly to be paid the minimum wage, provided the state coffers being filled with riches, money, wealth.
I expect a smile in my heart that Mario Draghi as the apparition of the Madonna S. Rita and capiamoci, this is the most terrible I've ever.
And I can not in any way detached from off this bloody robe with the words "good" and to fight tirelessly against the evil forces that are slowly fogacitando the object of my desire.
It 's a tragedy. It 's a climbing above 3000 meters without oxygen tank nearby, and Messner, because the infidel Saracen disguised as doubt and anxiety, took his heart and has no intention of making it to my caring hands.
And so I wait, sitting on the chair, that the infusion of love that I injected month is to take effect, as I see the credits looming large, and Tara looming on the horizon in flames.
But whatever the meaning of what I'm doing and where I will, I claim the right to a happy ending, and heck, I want it now.
And since I'm not in control of my actions, I intend to trace the author of this convoluted plot in which they are involved to talk to eye and ask him to undergo a prior reading of the finale of this 50's melodrama, by threatening to transform our Jerusalem Delivered in a Misery of two thousand years.
I wonder why you need to reach out to suffering and paranoia, cross oceans of tears and sleepless nights with the sole purpose of doing good for someone else, so why I have decided to wrap myself in this shroud of blue and white and play teresadicalcutta when I represent the anathema of any living martyr crusader and may come to mind. I do not have I know what's going on, but in all honesty at this time if I could put in hand a white shield with a red cross above and a helmet with a beautiful veil of iron on the face and I myself would take them off for the Saracen infidel.
Sure I could have chosen a better writer for my erudite quotation, since that rate, as you teach me, it was a hopeless fool, but perhaps it is this detail that took me from him. Something tells me that at this time and I Torquato well as the passion for words, we have more in common ...
I know nothing of the Gerusalemme Liberata: it said that I have this black hole in the brain that opens up a fourth dimension in total ignorance of Italian literature and medieval history course I am not proud of that, but I do not see why not hide much more than my inadequate knowledge of the Gerusalemme Liberata not prevent me from also recognize some similarities between me and his dangerous players . On the other hand is a story that deals with the Crusades, love, sacrifice, good and bad feelings, right? And I think this is enough. It 's true I'll be mad as well as rate, but unlike him, I caught up in the plot, there are up to my neck and I have every right to talk about it and grok them, not that I am making this up to the art to please the patron of the moment . At most I can distract the hamster for ten minutes, but you will understand, that strikes do not miss a plenary session of the Vatican.
So yes, when I feel like a martyr, and although this does not do me honor, I need, for a moment to compose an apology myself. The five-minute complaints are granted to anyone, and then we have a right to cross-tearful confession: after having removed any joy in the happiness, the Buondi has given us at least the right to grieve for our evil and the other, so each When we suffer we must not do is look up and wonder why, that's where he and his stubborn silence and transparency will help us to feel much better.
There once was a man who had decided that I should take care of him. This man, who can not even give a nickname so many and such are his qualities, is putting me in very serious trouble.
Anyone who knows me knows that I do not feel exactly towards men of maternal feelings, which at most in the darkest hours of my life I have fed their subsidiaries and at best they have made these people flee to their heels, with ' it should be.
Besides who would ever want to father a daughter like me? None, I tell you. And that's okay. Open and closed parentheses.
But anyhow: I was a child, a lover or a friend, but never a nurse and I always gone well so that the human cases willing to let them take care of Melanie Viacolvento. I thought.
But it seems that at some point touch everyone through new waters, so here I am with all the stuffed head, hands caressing and ready stethoscope to auscultate the heart palpitations of the heart suffering from this fantastic little man in continuous to be madly in love. The typical twist that moves the plot of the story is not it? The spoiled and selfish
protagonist who suddenly finds himself to deal with the needs of others. A significant slice of the plankton to killer whales in Hollywood. But give me a
complaints, very unprofessional. An aside postmodernists, those who love them as playwrights and writers of the 80s.
I understand that martyrdom does not ask for rewards, I realized that even then the reward comes complete with feathered wings and beam, but I'm not a vocation for teresadicalcutta but only out of necessity, I think I deserve a thank you every now and then I do not know a smile, maybe a kind word no?
But no because I have to argue over the patient's attention to other things, in this case last night with the dogs, three nights before with Piero Chiambretti, also note that the patient continues to ask insistently is given exclusively to him, suffers, poor angel, and do not know what to do. It suffers
then for my sake. So I as well as being the victim of his illness, I would also be the executioner. And the plot becomes increasingly complex.
A psychological drama?! Who knows, I'm just the actress.
Nevertheless, I decided that this man should not feel bad for my sake, and down some loving care, soft words, kind thoughts. Too bad that all turned against me, given that this continues to complain of severe headaches, heartburn and pains in the chest, left side.
His heart does not stand up, despite my complete dedication to the cause and painful. The patient needs a drastic cure, I say that I'm his nurse - qualified personnel - a pity that he perfect hypochondriac he has developed a dosage which, while requiring my presence, I was unclear. So I was the grim
laborers, nothing more and nothing less than strong arms for our fields, or do not know, hands on our keyboards, our neck white uniforms, standing for our grape harvest, and let's stop here first that my passion for the comparisons might touch pornography.
So this is the meaning of my crusade! I will, I fervently hope that my total abdication of personal dignity and self-esteem makes him happy! That my dozens of hours weekly to be paid the minimum wage, provided the state coffers being filled with riches, money, wealth.
I expect a smile in my heart that Mario Draghi as the apparition of the Madonna S. Rita and capiamoci, this is the most terrible I've ever.
And I can not in any way detached from off this bloody robe with the words "good" and to fight tirelessly against the evil forces that are slowly fogacitando the object of my desire.
It 's a tragedy. It 's a climbing above 3000 meters without oxygen tank nearby, and Messner, because the infidel Saracen disguised as doubt and anxiety, took his heart and has no intention of making it to my caring hands.
And so I wait, sitting on the chair, that the infusion of love that I injected month is to take effect, as I see the credits looming large, and Tara looming on the horizon in flames.
But whatever the meaning of what I'm doing and where I will, I claim the right to a happy ending, and heck, I want it now.
And since I'm not in control of my actions, I intend to trace the author of this convoluted plot in which they are involved to talk to eye and ask him to undergo a prior reading of the finale of this 50's melodrama, by threatening to transform our Jerusalem Delivered in a Misery of two thousand years.
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