Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Ski Doo For Sale Ontario
The book of memory
Her chin rests on the palm of the hand, while the tip of the index stands in the way the two lips. The ice-blue eyes are fixed and hypnotized by the passing fast and monotonous pylons that hold the electric wires of the train.
Travel second class, the paper on brown pants. The
look out the window every time it carries in place of his memory, and so this becomes snow, smell of ash from the gray sky, smoke from rigid mouths of inhabitants as cold every winter in Kielce, Poland. And 'as if it were still there: visually perceives the main road from the houses that run along down to the center of town, where you can overlook the church of San Leobilich, apart from years of unsuccessful restoration. It also smells near the entry doors sprouting waste the day before, covered by the storm at night, left there by a garbage truck that no longer passes for two months. So the typhus is at home in almost every family in Kielce, the cemetery is isolated from a month on the height and the infection is easier to bury the dead in the garden behind, those who have it. The nearest hospital is in Gdansk: 143 km of snow-capped mountains and characteristically tortuous.
E 'jew. At the beginning of winter this becomes a question: people are too busy to buffer the cold live, groped to heat above and below your skin. In that season so hard and gray, he could live better than a novice in the sun in spring or summer to mature.
- I and the entire Jewish community. The Nazi massacre ended recently, but still are afraid of a regime that no longer exists, which has left unreasonable prejudices dictated by distrust and suspicion racist is the need to survive that I'll sign. On the other hand just came back from the Warsaw ghetto and I was among those. " Small voices, stunned again by too many silences. The citizens of Kielce
still do not understand what happened: for them a jew is evil, brings destruction in the country, and ruthless gunmen door, door rapes, looting, husbands died -.
In the Warsaw ghetto had learned to run underground drains on ice and was saved.
- And through it all, right-wing Polish partisans pulled down from Pompey's Head my fellow survivors and killed them in the woods near the tracks -.
few years later departed from Kielce and graduated in medicine.
wanted to force him to join the Communists in order not to go into exile.
- In fact, even the Polish Communists hours we have with the Jews -. Propaganda.
arrive strikes, Communists finally face change, they become pro-Russian.
- During the days in the ghetto, I saw the Russians across the river watching the massacre of Jews, waiting for the Nazis ended. Then he went to Warsaw as liberators -.
The image of his brother pinned to the mobile home from a German bullet and he quickly slipped under the trap door that goes to the sewer system, driven by the sudden horror of a vacuum. It runs fast and there crying, with the death of his brother's firm as to push the knees to allow him to suffer, while listening to the screams of the Teutonic dictators Nazis above are cleaning Warsaw.
The image of her mother, who greets him and kisses him before boarding the train from Kielce to Treblinka: smiles her out the window.
The image of his father with a heart attack on the face and all the weight of a life on the heart is stopped.
- I was alone in the house. I walked out hard accustomed to the pain: the kids I take the face with snowballs and have fun running away -.
The image of children who died of typhus in the hospital, where was a volunteer, and rewinding back, the games of snow as a child, with his brother - my mother came out of his serious role only in those family occasions and began to make a ball with us -.
whole story of his life was to serve the world, the whole story of his life must necessarily be a uniquely higher sense that transcended his singular experience, bringing in talent for future reference, was to make the rough contact of each with own conscience.
then writes a book of memory: cover gray, slightly yellow sheets, no pictures or illustrations, a book out loud and even austere. By choice. A gallery
cover of complete darkness memories and brings him back to his seventy-seven, with a sort of thud sound insulation that rearranges its rigid skin to heat the cab.
After the tunnel, the flow reappears the pylons.
chair in front of her eyes crossing in case of a young man realizes only now that he was watched all the time.
Another gallery.
When the light fails to illuminate the faces again, for the young person is wet from tears, silent, which does not explain the pain.
- My gaze then passes on his legs to his hands together above appoggiatovi, I see a book a bit 'austere, sheets slightly yellow, gray cover, no pictures ... -. 
Her chin rests on the palm of the hand, while the tip of the index stands in the way the two lips. The ice-blue eyes are fixed and hypnotized by the passing fast and monotonous pylons that hold the electric wires of the train.
Travel second class, the paper on brown pants. The
look out the window every time it carries in place of his memory, and so this becomes snow, smell of ash from the gray sky, smoke from rigid mouths of inhabitants as cold every winter in Kielce, Poland. And 'as if it were still there: visually perceives the main road from the houses that run along down to the center of town, where you can overlook the church of San Leobilich, apart from years of unsuccessful restoration. It also smells near the entry doors sprouting waste the day before, covered by the storm at night, left there by a garbage truck that no longer passes for two months. So the typhus is at home in almost every family in Kielce, the cemetery is isolated from a month on the height and the infection is easier to bury the dead in the garden behind, those who have it. The nearest hospital is in Gdansk: 143 km of snow-capped mountains and characteristically tortuous.
E 'jew. At the beginning of winter this becomes a question: people are too busy to buffer the cold live, groped to heat above and below your skin. In that season so hard and gray, he could live better than a novice in the sun in spring or summer to mature.
- I and the entire Jewish community. The Nazi massacre ended recently, but still are afraid of a regime that no longer exists, which has left unreasonable prejudices dictated by distrust and suspicion racist is the need to survive that I'll sign. On the other hand just came back from the Warsaw ghetto and I was among those. " Small voices, stunned again by too many silences. The citizens of Kielce
still do not understand what happened: for them a jew is evil, brings destruction in the country, and ruthless gunmen door, door rapes, looting, husbands died -.
In the Warsaw ghetto had learned to run underground drains on ice and was saved.
- And through it all, right-wing Polish partisans pulled down from Pompey's Head my fellow survivors and killed them in the woods near the tracks -.
few years later departed from Kielce and graduated in medicine.
wanted to force him to join the Communists in order not to go into exile.
- In fact, even the Polish Communists hours we have with the Jews -. Propaganda.
arrive strikes, Communists finally face change, they become pro-Russian.
- During the days in the ghetto, I saw the Russians across the river watching the massacre of Jews, waiting for the Nazis ended. Then he went to Warsaw as liberators -.
The image of his brother pinned to the mobile home from a German bullet and he quickly slipped under the trap door that goes to the sewer system, driven by the sudden horror of a vacuum. It runs fast and there crying, with the death of his brother's firm as to push the knees to allow him to suffer, while listening to the screams of the Teutonic dictators Nazis above are cleaning Warsaw.
The image of her mother, who greets him and kisses him before boarding the train from Kielce to Treblinka: smiles her out the window.
The image of his father with a heart attack on the face and all the weight of a life on the heart is stopped.
- I was alone in the house. I walked out hard accustomed to the pain: the kids I take the face with snowballs and have fun running away -.
The image of children who died of typhus in the hospital, where was a volunteer, and rewinding back, the games of snow as a child, with his brother - my mother came out of his serious role only in those family occasions and began to make a ball with us -.
whole story of his life was to serve the world, the whole story of his life must necessarily be a uniquely higher sense that transcended his singular experience, bringing in talent for future reference, was to make the rough contact of each with own conscience.
then writes a book of memory: cover gray, slightly yellow sheets, no pictures or illustrations, a book out loud and even austere. By choice. A gallery
cover of complete darkness memories and brings him back to his seventy-seven, with a sort of thud sound insulation that rearranges its rigid skin to heat the cab.
After the tunnel, the flow reappears the pylons.
chair in front of her eyes crossing in case of a young man realizes only now that he was watched all the time.
Another gallery.
When the light fails to illuminate the faces again, for the young person is wet from tears, silent, which does not explain the pain.
- My gaze then passes on his legs to his hands together above appoggiatovi, I see a book a bit 'austere, sheets slightly yellow, gray cover, no pictures ... -.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Tomorrow's Exam Quotes
Reflections on the sidelines of a need
To kill innocence does not take much. It seems that if you miss the freedom and aspirations, then who should not have in front of you. Can not stand who's in front of his closed world kind of naivety, disguised criticism and rebellion, by ideals and cruel superficiality. But under the mask of clouds and mental age living paradoxes, uncertainties and chains of dismay and blind alleys. So how do we educate the cynical eye to stop and settle at the expense of feelings? How to sniff only the burned without the insight of the soft flesh? It is how to create a mechanical toy in which pseudo technology to shut himself masturbating the soul in search of one or more orgasms, childishly ignoring it will always be sterile. Earth and man need to be fertilized by those windmills really sees them, and bites from those who hope to return the blades to grind grain.
from "Notes to the Sea in Ships - between land and sea" Fabio Craftsmen, Pascal Publishing, 2009, Siena. 
To kill innocence does not take much. It seems that if you miss the freedom and aspirations, then who should not have in front of you. Can not stand who's in front of his closed world kind of naivety, disguised criticism and rebellion, by ideals and cruel superficiality. But under the mask of clouds and mental age living paradoxes, uncertainties and chains of dismay and blind alleys. So how do we educate the cynical eye to stop and settle at the expense of feelings? How to sniff only the burned without the insight of the soft flesh? It is how to create a mechanical toy in which pseudo technology to shut himself masturbating the soul in search of one or more orgasms, childishly ignoring it will always be sterile.
from "Notes to the Sea in Ships - between land and sea" Fabio Craftsmen, Pascal Publishing, 2009, Siena.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
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