Who Is Isaelle From Bag Bus

Step by step you go ...

You wake up one morning, you look around, eyes look around, the mind alert would be absent, do not think that makes you feel or perhaps mask the pain. The spiritual search lets you down, then returns, overwhelms you, surprises you, body and soul are shaken. Then mark the temptations of the time and the sound is not easy to spit on their leap ... It is not easy! believe that he had forged every nuance of your being after rivers of pain, not enough, you have to keep our guard high ... the living breath of breath, the good thoughts go away and only you, you and the tree you care so much, the life that has slipped back but struggling every now and still trying to escape ... love the clarity, intoxicate your senses in poetry and freedom ... "Freedom" ... word huge, difficult to impute if you do not feel "real" to the end, freed prisoners is this ... oxymoron hidden meaning.

Can You Use Louana Coconut Oil In Your Hair ?

a play

Today I agreed after a very interesting meeting with the president of the Pro Loco of Talamona the staging of a play steeped in music, poetry, hopping here and there in my story, a good message to be transmitted to anyone who wants to breathe a bit 'of true emotions. Especially to encourage young people to cultivate their passions rather than suffocate them or repress them. It will be a good opportunity to promote my songs will be on sale as 8 songs contained in the released prisoners. The event is scheduled for the end of January .... it takes a little 'time to prepare something exciting, I'll write a story, a story with sounds ... her voice vibrated with emotion and his, that move with the body merges with the thoughts of the spectators, empathy and graceful dance between the eyes in the room .... empathy that breaks the hearts of stunned silence and you can breathe
I leave a poem ....

READS THE SENSES IN NO DANCING ALONE

" Tap

Arms

treasures preserved in a gesture of harmonic beauty

In legacy while

Emotion

to offer to posterity

" respire

the Senses "

sound waves caressing the

Wind ...

A pleasure primordial tramples

Silence.

" Hear"

Calci time disarm

An opaque twilight symphony

As night howls to silence

" Smell"

The perfumed shower

love spring

is the 'Flower of a fertile orgasm!

" Watch"

Muschi silver

watching in amazement

A shoot straight;

bale Hope

and the forest orchestra

the breath of the wind .

Soda Always Give Me The Hiccups

The Fellicò

I will never be happy until my children die in a most unjust of the world are women, are native to the transitive property so I am the mother of all children in the world, how can I be happy then in the light of what is happening around me?

This is not to mention people who might not have existed, such as Jesus .... or believe in this or that .... Sometimes the laws are unjust and should be revisited, and it is not luck ... they are aware that just as things are the future of all is uncertain, the Mighty want Maten south of the world's poor and hungry because it's so easy .... Africa is rich, could feed the world, and so other states who live in poverty more absurd .... And while the little people go through life thinking that they are happy in their little world, the world dies ....

What happiness we are talking about then? Even the turtles are dying because of the blindness of humans ....

Who Does Megan Goods Hair

desire for poetry ..

A year ago I wrote a poem a day or more, fewer songs than poems but now I miss them a bit 'especially those without a metric, where the words sound in itself, where all but enrich the rhetorical figures are not the thread where the game is what leads to passion.
I leave one of my poems

The Whip King

Eyes on the wall for years

hours and hours to hope in time

to seek the hidden way

Where a dipping ray of light

Hope was born in the sun

Bones dried

body of another

After winter

Past hell

Just feel it makes you realize

And the thought suffer

meat glued to

Bones death

dry skin

of infamy and pain

body animated by

Thick drawings

The scars of these

Bei days

Powder soothes the imagination

As the Emperor Whip

that scans your hours and

does not allow the sun to enter

In your sky at dusk

Only a noise

Joint pain

drops of frost

Bagnano heart

Turns

silence the voice of a child

runs from inside

Thunder 's love

Fate mocking

not alloy the

Dreaming

Copare Ppf With Jeevan Saral

This is the first song of the concert Matthias Ciapponi, prisoners released

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wd5OfpCzXRk

Freedom, run beyond the boundaries of
Pain, flies and breathes sound
thrill of the sound Love.

Adapter To Run External Hard Drive To Tv

SOME MOMENTS OF THE AFTERNOON IN CONCERT VIA GARIBALDI A MORBEGNO

Cytherea Black And White

Who would have guessed??

Today I play with my band in Morbegno, via Garibaldi, after years in various places of Italy is back in his hometown. Let's see what happens, my songs sound good in the ears of Valtellina?? Morbegno Winery here I come!!