Friday, October 8, 2010

How To Connectextra Fan To Xbox 360



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Like every human being, I have a right to those moments when I can by me ... To hear a unit that acts independently. Stig Dagerman

My brother Dario wrote me recently from Derry to know what you mean to me 'dodges life'. It 'started from the more obvious meaning to express some concern, as if I was going I to retire in a convent or other secluded place. As if I were fleeing from civilization. Topics that have been attacked by an attack of misanthropy!
I replied with a book. Yes, I sent him a book about me. Or rather, talk about that part of me that worries me: the shyness.

Shyness is not fashionable today. Being shy is often considered a disadvantage, even an illness, fear of living, an escape from the competition. The aggressiveness, get off do not belong, do not mark a man and a woman getting a little 'aside, whose withdrawal is a sign of calm and restraint. This book does not want to give advice to counter than once so intensely human. Instead is on the side of those who still blushes, and consider shyness a sensitivity to value, a plot of virtue - the ability to be quiet, be discreet ... - which translates into a more light to be alive.
Dario told me a bit 'hit, as if with my gesture would like to enhance my character, Turning to a defect in my favor, as a high value. To please him, I replied pointing out shortcomings and limitations. I have revealed my secret, I want to confess to you: the face of life I feel like a suitor who finds himself still waiting for a response. But not because I feel the edge ... from life! On the contrary, I consider myself lucky. Goethe would say, a favorite of the gods. I have, in fact, the most precious things a man could want. And I'm not going to list them, because I already did.

Rather, it must be said that my shy demeanor is my way of thanking the good received. I bow in front of the sacred things and beautiful things. I am grateful. If there seems to be clumsy and hesitant is because I think a lot before speaking, and especially before you act. Of the two brothers in talks about mythology - Prometheus and Epimetheus - I follow in the footsteps of the first, but they are fragile as the second.

How do you say are on the side of Prometheus? Are only rational and consistent action? They are bright and fair and wise and aware of me?
But on the other hand, how do you say are on the side of Epimetheus? I'm just feeling and immediacy, spontaneity and innocence?

I wanted to be "rough and simple," as our great poet Eugenio Montale, but life throws you on the scene suddenly overwhelms you, puts you in a hurry, troubles you, confuses you ...
A philosopher of the time of Nero wrote:
How much time did you dedicate yourself [...] how many people have robbed you of your life without you even noticing you of what you lost [. ..] do not ever think that we are fragile beings.
Here! There seems easier to defend its inner core by 'attacks' newspapers of stupidity and vulgarity? A poet expresses Slavic said in this regard:
What prayed with love, as something sacred that
guarded,
fate to the empty chatter human
abandoned for ridicule.

The crowd came in, the crowd stormed the shrine
within your soul,
sacrifices and mysteries and it opened
you blush in spite of yourself.

Ah, ever the wings
living soul hovering over the crowd could save her from the assault

immortal human vulgarity!

FEDOR TJUTCEV
Then, you'll understand why I have done so. Private health insurance? Introverted? Weakness of character? Suspended life? You name it.
I know, though, and I hope you will understand this, that my heart no more hesitation, if I put in the middle of a room - even empty - two maybe a little 'less shadowy than me, to make a Trio or three musicians in love, to make a quartet ...

We know that love is melt from sheets jealous of Copernicus, not the husband of Maria Ivanovna had as rival . Let, then, that we are talking to the rhythms of life that comes forward to announce the sumptuously wins the heart of a woman. For this reason, we are also willing on a cold autumn evening to give up our gloom talk to a piano.


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