<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d16691433\x26blogName\x3dHiigara:+Our+Home.\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://tecnocore.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3des_MX\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://tecnocore.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d2434464167009864812', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

About

Mi nombre es Angel Luciano, me interesa la poesia, la musica, escribir y espero algun dia estar viajando por todo el mundo, o al menos por buena parte de el, me encanta la naturaleza pero no soy hippie, mato conejos y animales de Deus para comer, etc etc... no me mido para no herir mentesitas de la creacion asi que si me quieren leer, muy bien =).

la muerte de las mayusculas.

mi teclado no escribe mayusculas, lo siento por que me hace sentir incomodo...

al rato hay nuevo post, stay tunned tiene cosas interesantes.



How many times have you tried to talk to someone about something that matters to you, tried to get them to see it the way you do? And how many of those times have ended with you feeling bitter, resenting them for making you feel like your pain doesn't have any substance after all?

Like when you've split up with someone, and you try to communicate the way you feel, because you need to say the words, need to feel that somebody understands just how pissed off and frightened you feel. The problem is, they never do. "Plenty more fish in the sea," they'll say, or "You're better off without them," or "Do you want some of these potato chips?" They never really understand, because they haven't been there, every day, every hour. They don't know the way things have been, the way that it's made you, the way it has structured your world. They'll never realise that someone who makes you feel bad may be the person you need most in the world. They don't understand the history, the background, don't know the pillars of memory that hold you up. Ultimately, they don't know you well enough, and they never can. Everyone's alone in their world, because everybody's life is different. You can send people letters, and show them photos, but they can never come to visit where you live.

Unless you love them. And then they can burn it down.

— Michael Marshall Smith

You can leave your response or bookmark this post to del.icio.us by using the links below.
Comment | Bookmark | Go to end