Birthday Invitations Phrases

genius, logs, library

The genius is he who has the best ideas of others. It is what it first.
not remember how I had come to express this thought. Maybe it was the feeling of mad genius that comes over me when the morning I went to my boss to ask for a week's holiday. He felt the need. A
Michael had not talked about my choice of a week off. It was the first time I took a decision without asking.

I went to her that morning. I climbed the stairs of his house. I had a great desire to see her, to be with her. I was happy. The day before that perfume had put me in a good mood.
Michael gave singing lessons, it was a good teacher. She received her students at home. From eleven in the morning until seven at night, his house was a constant coming and going of men and women of all ages.

had a incredible ear for music. He knew that other great grasp nuances escaped. He had a melodious voice and fantastic.
We had met some years before at a concert of mutual friends. She, in fact, was the teacher of singing of frontman group. The entire audience at the end of the evening was in total ecstasy as they played, except you. I was intrigued. I went over and started talking about music, vocal technique and a thousand other topics. He told me he taught singing, gave private lessons in her home. I took an appointment for the next day.

That was the best lesson ever made in my life.
I climbed the stairs of his house with the same desire to see the first time. I wanted to cancel all her appointments of the week, take the car away and go away.

"Hello Love"
"Why are not you at work?"
"I asked a week's holiday?"
"Why?"
"I went"
"Why did you come here?"
"I went"
"I have an appointment in half an hour I prepare"
"Annullalo from, we're a bit 'together'
" It is important, it is working "
"Dai Michi, please. Let's go for a trip "
" Where would we? Please dear, come back tonight now I have to prepare lessons and then start "
" Ok "
" Hello "
" Hello "

All poetry was over. My desire for her had disappeared suddenly. I had not even asked to drink a coffee together, and mocha was on fire. I felt empty and I imagined that she took notes on his agenda always dense. I should call it a week before they can hope for in a vacation with her. We should plan together.
The bar at fifty miles from home waiting for me.
While I sipped my beer, I waited anxiously for the arrival of my perfume. I waited for hours, but never arrived. It seemed that all I had left. All that was joy, it was over.
I was the shadow of myself at that bar. Without a place to think. He might as well stay in office then.
I thought so, I thought that book Tondelli, I thought the smell of the sea in Holland heard the day before.

I had to go find it. Where
was over my genius? I just had an idea to get out of the lawless one who had created around me.
I was desperate for an idea, I had to find something.
The sea of \u200b\u200bHolland.
a week off.
Amsterdam.
my car ready to travel.
No, this idea was too hobbled. And then it took money that I had not.
The sea of \u200b\u200bHolland.
Its scent.
a week off.
Research.
walked, holding the nostrils ready to suffer, to suffer. I entered all the shops hoping to find there.

"Need a hand?"
"I'm just giving a look books. What you have to Tondelli? "
" Week-end post-modern, Rimini, Other libertines. But I believe if you follow me I'll show you where they are "
" Can you give me no problem "
" Ok, still looking. The books are here Tondelli "
" You like? "
" Actually I never read. I have other tastes "
" What is your favorite book? "
" I've read so many being here, I do not know "
" Listen, if I go back tomorrow, same time, you make me have a list with your favorite books and Then I choose what to take. I have a week off, will have to deal in some way. Would you like '? Look, I come back tomorrow "
'Go well, I'll wait tomorrow

I had not even asked his name. I would have done the next day. When I would go back there.

Confirmation Letter Template

Marlon Brando and the smell

After the first taste I was totally engrossed. I could not live without. What the hell was I jumped in head that day? I had never experienced anything like it. Trapped inside my morality imposed by a thousand years of teaching and catechesis.
I was too tired in the morning was always the same. I was tired of that life so schematic, so anarchic equal to itself after the second second. I lacked the courage though. I could not change those patterns that I have always kept close to my country, to the social security tax free at the time of my baptism.
So after that first taste I was completely hooked. The taste and slight bitterness inside me. Winning the blood in his veins, that flavor is making his way to my senses. The cold air came from inside the window while driving on that road. I had never found the road so free. I felt like I made the right choice.
After an hour in the office I decided to go home. Without a real reason. I had left the interpretation of my strange dream. I thought so, every night I dream of something new, and I could not spend my life trying to understand all. It would be like trying to understand the woman who was with me. Impossible. Just
she thought at this time. Theoretically should have been at home. Theoretically. No thought went into the surprise of my head. A little 'I have it for fear of a surprise, a little' because I had no desire to even hear her. His immortal gray I was almost completely absorbed.
lied to myself, work, love. All so beautiful, so perfect. Everything simply equal to average desire of every Italian ISTAT respectable.
just do not want to tell the same story where I, a prey to the desire for freedom and re-appropriation of I ran my mind from everything and everyone, fleeing to India and married to a beautiful girl and by two sons before escaping from her and then also do the same thing in three other continents of the world, only to die with fifteen illegitimate children by maintained between courts and prisons. That is the life of Marlon Brando. I do not want to tell you a story unlikely or unreal.
just that I can not say that after the first taste I was totally engrossed. It was fantastic that time.
absolutely did not want to go to Michael (as he called it "my" woman). The idea of \u200b\u200bher with another one in a bed had something fascinating. A kind of liberation. My pride, however, does not think like me. And then go to her to do what? Camp thousand apologies, thousands of lies to tell her why I was not at work. No, it was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do.
I stopped at a tobacco store to buy a package of cigars. Normally I do not smoke, but the cigars relax me. So then I went on my way, I honestly did not even know where I was carrying. When I got downstairs I heard a bout of schizophrenia. Not even dropped out of the car. Ingranai the first and again immediately. Without thinking of doing the right thing or wrong. Only I left. Exactly fifty kilometers later, I stopped at a bar. I did not want to do strange encounters that day. And that's where I tasted for the first time. I felt

strong in a new perfume. He came from behind me.

I imagined. High, blackberry, curly hair, fair complexion excuse. Scent of the sea, smell good.
I let my head traveling with her. He must surely be beautiful, I thought as I sipped my beer. But I wanted to run. I did not want to break that great design that I had built with so much effort into my head.
I would have shot with style. I'd looked into her eyes and I said that I was dependent on its scent. I would have asked him not to say anything. I would have looked into his eyes. I would give her a kiss from the movie, and we'd go to his house to make love to destroy the soul. Except that these things happen Only in the movies. Maybe a movie with Marlon Brando.
Another beer, and the smell more sweet, always on my back. He spoke, he was reading a book. He was probably studying. There were no schools or universities nearby. Then retraced my design.

A woman of culture.

The idea of \u200b\u200bmaking love with her became even more exciting.

Solo, still did not turn around. I wonder if she thought the same thing. I began to count, trying to make me courage. I was about to turn. I got up.

I went out and smoked a cigar. The smell of cigar
trying to ruin what I had done my taste. From the bar came out of two girls. Not I can say they were beautiful. I can not say they were ugly. They were two girls. They talked among themselves, with a smile that girls, when they talk among themselves of their business.
I did not hear the scent, they could not be the primary drug of my own.
I went back into the bar, trying not to look around, I did not see her face.
I paid my bill.
The next day I would return there again.

Port Royale 2 Update 1.1

Horse or RockStar?

It was not the usual air. That morning there was something wrong in the right direction. I knew as soon as he got out of bed. As soon as I heard the cold marble beneath your feet. The alarm
, punctual as a clock, had declared the end of my dreams, and as always I remained uncertain about what they meant.
I lived a life at half the night before. A little 'I was riding a horse, and a little' I was a rockstar. The significance of the research in some conscious part of my unconscious. That dream I had left a bitter taste. So I got up with a lot of discomfort in his veins.
I could not find my slippers, into the anarchic order of my bedroom. It was as if someone, during the night, it was fun to hide things. I felt an immense distaste for this thing. I felt my face swollen. The cheeks on the floor. The legs seemed to want to be on strike, and the sun coming in through the holes of the shutter, I came straight at me. I felt a huge hassle for these things.
A horse, a rock star. What did it mean?
I wonder as I walked into the kitchen for breakfast. With her hand stroked my face in a vain attempt to deflate. I could feel his beard against the grain. I also had to shave that morning. Needless to say, I felt discomfort at the thought.
that morning I realized that something was wrong the right way, when I opened the refrigerator.
had finished the milk. Inside of me I could not find the strength not to blaspheme. Only a grunt. Tired and weak.
the news had already said too horoscope. I understood to be late, but I do not affannai time to recover. Indeed.
That morning I did everything with nuisance and annoyance calm. I was a hushed silence in the ears.
It was not the usual air. That morning there was something wrong in the right direction. I understood immediately, as soon as I opened the door. As soon as I heard the cold output to the bone.
A horse, a rock star. What did it mean?
blew a chill wind. Of those that make you eyes water. My car was frozen. I had no desire to take the scraper and clean, although I had to do it.
My movements were slow enough to annoy. The slight layer of ice was left stripped slowly, while from inside my car warmed the windshield.
drove with extreme caution. Listlessly avoided the busiest streets. At that hour of the morning the city is an ice bumper cars. I maldigerisco crowded places, especially if they are forced to see them from inside my car.
I found parking a shot in the ass.
I climbed into the elevator, in the company of two beautiful girls around the office. Happen to me every morning. I had already memorized the capacity of the lift, the number to call in an emergency. I just do not understand why a child of eleven years was to be accompanied by an adult. I thought every morning with the inconvenience of a lift. Three retired unknown forced to share the same cubic meter of air for endless moments. No one speaks of respect, as if he wanted to capture a greater amount of oxygen against others. Even if one thought that morning, which I was slowly getting used to, I attacked. While turned on the computer and tried to balance the books of the company I work for.
was a tic-tac inside my head. A perpetual motion, restless. I viewed the scenes of me riding. In front of an audience with bass in hand. It was a hard thought, that did not go away. For this reason I felt uncomfortable.
When I started working I realized that this was not a morning that something was wrong in the right direction. That was a morning like any other.