Thursday, June 5, 2008

Poptropica Vitual Gaming



3 years ago my dad was consumed daily in the liver cancer. To encourage his body gave him some vitamins worn one of the many doctors had prescribed. Vitamins come in a cute little bottles with the red cap. Just saw them I thought of writing it. Using the strong red of the cap as dots to form letters, letters to form phrases, phrases to form events, events that formed tenderness, tenderness to form memories, to remember our love. Many were the ways that these vials to achieve in my head. Complete opting for a simple and straightforward CECI I LOVE YOU. Also because the number of vials that had was not much. But no matter that the phrase is so original, that would be my great work of art, my installation.

So it was that for an anniversary, the last I think. Double-sided stick tape on the wall and then paste one by one the vials with the droplet. So that nothing, nothing off. More than once he beat me or my fingers were dry. But in the end I succeeded. My pretentious work was carried out successfully and with much I should clarify, given the short time that the idea had to maintain its provocative effect of surprise.

So surprised was that Cecilia and the first thing he said was the wall! You ruined the wall! And I filled with the heroism of the romantic epic answer: Who cares what matters is the wall I love you. And if all forms were provided instead.

Then over time slowly vials were falling. Once in the floor became the plaything of Nina, who distributed them around the house, or even used them to cover his poop.

Until one day they all fell down and I am a witness the double-sided tape, with dry droplet stains and dirt stuck together in their pores. Still reading the CECI I LOVE YOU, but worn and tarnished this way. But today I have had perhaps I should say up with some pride.

Cecilia

The thing that one time after I left and went away. And the legend was ruined. A ruin that I ruined the whole house. That dropped the bursts. Debris was a time not coming back, that will never arrive, it is not, it was not. It was a great trap for all my senses end up stuck together in the double-sided tape. Neither the tears get off the ground and drop dirt from your pores. And that heroism eroded by the time they learned to deploy a vain tenderness, threatening, enhanced.

I think he was afraid that affection to Cecilia. It did not feel comfortable with it. I think that was what she wanted. She wanted strength, security, reasoning that with tenderness never get to those things. Or maybe you? No idea. Should not be so easy to manage attacks of tenderness like that.

Everyone tells me to remove it. To buy sandpaper and smoothed the wall. I think of it any day now. And where are the brands to a rack full of instruments, microphones and toys that come in Mc donnals in the Happy Meal. Just know that if you put flashy things that make noise and no longer be ruin, to speak, to burn, explode. But at least it will stop the car a little to the attack of melancholy tenderness, of that work, that personal failure of the broken dream, this unique passion.

These kinds of groups reminded Ulloa. Who died a few days ago. A few weeks ago had been in the last class he gave. Did not even know who he was. But he was so funny, tender and with such clarity that it was impossible that you'll love it. I speak of the cruelty, tenderness, the obstacle is yourself, of how we are prevented from loving us. Then I heard of her career. It seems it was a big psychology in the country, the litter and also Pichon Riviere Le psychologist luthiers. Good at this kind tribute to a sentence Ulloa named it "before the production of loneliness, tenderness." That phrase went through me as the sharpest sword. That I came all the vials over, my dad dying, screaming Cecilia Wall! And speaking of things to be solved by oneself. And I clarified something that was always in me. And the idea of \u200b\u200bfighting to the death with tenderness, loneliness. But lost in this battle. I lost a lot. Reset Cecilia, I lost a father, and won the loneliness. Perhaps as a fundamentalist
love that I am, I better plan my attacks. Attach other weapons such as cruelty and others. Anyway I discovered that I have the weapon of tenderness that is no small thing. And out of there where I got the vials of my dad.

For now I will continue fighting. It is said to lose battles, it is losing the war. Then we will see.

Pope Thanks for showing the tenderness and Ulloa thanks her back.

Tenderness triggers sadness and flushes. Discuss this

the bombing of tenderness in therapy and I came to a head on 11 September. And I thought in buildings of sadness aircraft shot down by tenderness.

Wow that metaphor!.