What Is Retroperitoneal Adenopathy

Sometimes there are situations like an oil slick on the water clear corrupts and damages.

beloved Empress China Sorry, I swore not to touch the subject ... but things are already happening and, although I was not asked, I give my version of things, without distortion, that is what let others more skilled in the art.

Let a little history.

Chapter 1.

At the end of last year I had the wonderful idea of \u200b\u200bdoing a few Christmas cards I made, the design-through-Yadi and sent to all those who are important to me. It was my way of thanking them for such a presence, so many beautiful things I've been given. This has not changed, on the contrary, every day I am proud to meet so many more very different people in the end I do enrich my life.

But to return.

In one of those people, whom I'll call my Princess of the Waves, I asked a favor. I asked him if he could give the card to a third party. She said yes and we even laugh about the possible reaction of the third party.

Fool me, if I had known what would come next.

fact that they sent their 2 cards and a present for both. I mean, this summer I shared with them, a trip Pisa and Florence. With Alitalia, and two interminable hours in the Rome airport, my luggage did not arrive in Pisa and with them, my presents to them. Then, taking advantage of sending cards, I decided to send a voucher in an on-silver. A dinner for four people in the city of canals. A dinner for them, my two friends and their partners. It was my Christmas present to them.

What was my surprise one day after, take the envelope to mail, I called My Princess of the Waves and says "I think, I decided that it is better not give your envelope to ... When your letter comes I take my card and I send the other back. "

not told about the voucher. Bother me, I can not deny, but said nothing. All four dinners were lost, I swallowed my anger, life goes on and holy Easter. But no. The story does not.

Yo, without shame, I kept visiting their blog letting my comments, noting that they responded to all but me. A month later I wrote a message by mobile phone, My Princess of the Waves, "time without knowing you" and I got a response a: "This is considered harassment and the truth is that I hope does not repeat ever, is only respect and ask away. You disrespected and insulted me and generally I consider my friends do not. "

I disrespect? I cursed? When?

not yet out of my astonishment and to show the message to My Migratory Bird said: "You ..., harassing?, People do not know definitively what is stalking

was

the first time I read, addressed to me, the word harassment. I confess that sometimes I am stupid and do not measure the consequences. Paragraph of his message was, like a glove, a story he had written two years earlier. So I used it and the story posted on my blog. More fuel to the fire.

For my part I thought that chapter was closed, but no. Then I discovered not one, not two, not three ..., four were written, the recipient of the card is not delivered, she gave me. I will not mention the wonderful text written. I respect and above all respect him. I can only add to your page I feel very good. I can not see or enjoy, he is responsible for closing the entrance, but before Windows find out what type of use and do not know what else. The bully in this story myself.

Chapter 2.

Early last year I traveled to Madrid with some friends from the office. In Madrid I have some friends and I stopped to see them to know Na Coquette. We met in front of the Café Gijón, the note was literature, and later smiled. My Son, one of my colleagues in the office, then asked me "How old are you know" , his face when he heard a poem we were seeing for the first time.

fact we finished, and I Na Coquette, singing and remembering our childhood, for half Sopotocientos Castellana. While her son and my son were silent, stunned, in the back seat of his car.

I returned to Geneva and was a delight to our telephone conversations. She told me their projects, and his writings, his next novel and I mine. Moreover, in those talks had three post, three post I promised, and spent them already published. "When you go back to Madrid. A bottle of red wine waiting for you " was the promise every time we talked. The months passed and my trip was not given.

I finally organized my trip to Madrid earlier this year. Fireworks over the phone. Two days before he writes me and tells me "Excuse me, but I'm very busy ... and I can not address."

Well, what good is worth waiting, I thought ... but no.

I returned to Madrid and called: "My son has a birthday ..."

I called, months later, once and I still chill freezes the soul.

I wrote, word did not understand, do not understand and his only response was: "There is nothing to understand. It's a personal decision. "

End of story:

Every time I commented to my comment disappears Coqueta Na-no, thousands-today I went and put the following:

"How much absence ...

much silence

much choked

much intolerance

much sentence

much martyrdom

There saddest thing that the silence of a friend, a bird without wings, a bell naked at night, an endless horizon, a no why ...

The silence between two souls, is a stream of letters to be written without ink or recipient

I?

still hope,

hope that the clouds let the sun

Play voice

so much silence stuns me

photos can be broken, silence sounds

can: cut arms, fire awareness, the curtain, close a workbook, chain looks ...

But never with my conscience and the truth of my words ...

much absence ...

much silence

much choked

much intolerance

Case much

much martyrdom

And forever, and never forget.

All the best for you.

PS: I hope the message out and not steal. "

And deleted it, and wrote, in response, I'm a stalker.

thing that hurts me and makes me sad to be accused, tried and convicted for free. I had for some time debating between silence and write. If you said nothing was right, if protested, too.

I feel no resentment, bitterness and sour older. But something can be sure, I wish them, now and forever, all the best of the best.

For my part I close the book, I learned and that is appreciated.

Draw your own conclusions.

I forgot. All the best for you.

What Is Bunny Hop Game

some time ago, I had one of the exquisite conversations with my beloved Empress China that between you and incense, we spend playing a multitude of topics. Must be exercised her intellect, mental speed, the game of words and, above all, the humor different types of Ph. One of the things I am grateful to life, and which I have the honor, is to have her, his friendship, his wisdom and his word.

remembered these days, a conversation in particular. Lately my days have been a whirlwind of things and situations. Life circumstances in which they must have the right boat anchor tied and fully insured. Also with the candle held firmly, watching studying each of the open ocean waves with a hand compass and charts to point. Dangerous time we live in times of double faces, smiles and grimaces and true friendships. Minefields, smiles and muted so dizzy. It is no doubt the sun and believe in the moon. I understand.

remembered, once again, the day when I revealed my total and complete as a bigot.

"Intolerant? You?" I said it, weaving a subtle smile in the air and playing, almost coquettishly, with its range of jade and silk paintings.

Confucian There was silence between us while she was lost in the clouds of a cloudless day, passed fifty stations and drilling a second eye, turned to me:

"Intolerant ... you? " breathed deeply, to finish with a certain: "Arguméntamelo." Keeping , without a trace of expression, his face fine china. Moment I fear, really.

tolerance I have been misrepresented. Globalization-be-me bobalización become dirty cloth as much use and abuse. I have been since pre ta size in food ready to go, in removable hat. Daily

see that being tolerant is fashionable, distort reality and the makeup, the out of the way we decorate. The dissenters are silent, silenced voices and the world continues.

Tolerance is a thorny path and is sent, to hell or high, for the first time. Is a constant "do what I do, because if you do it is sin" and look constant or Torquemada.

A small example. If a Western woman's going to an Islamic country, you MUST wear the veil. Out of respect or simply because they can kill. We of the Western countries and we must be tolerant of their religion and culture. But if a woman with a headscarf is a country West and is asked not to port, so the secular society or feminist note. The plot thickens, as they-especially the men of Islam, demand that they respect their religion and culture.

And I wonder. Do not assume that what is equal is not cheating?

We are tolerant but do not accept to share a table with someone of another color, we are tolerant but "that" -important face of disgust to be a vegetarian, Latino, gay, Goch, communist posh woman, tico, Chavez, gringo, geek, Moor, Concheta, sifrino, marginal and do not know how many more labels.

There is also what's : "You are a nothing, but as I'm smart, I agree. I am tolerant ". Played very well slip industrialized countries which are not so much.

Particularly I think tolerance goes beyond that. You understand, comprehend, understand, explain, accept, listen, listen, watch, observe, consider, feel, appreciate, and any number of verbs, on the other. You nurture another reality, another way to see my reality, is to know and understand that everything has at least two points of view. It is, ultimately, respect others, to know that we are not repositories of truth. You know we're not perfect.

My meaning of tolerance as an equal, something horizontal ... because we all go to the bathroom even once a week.

why I am intolerant, do not get along with the use of tolerance in these times.

Empress smiled and said:

"Tolerance top-down arrogance. Tolerance from the bottom up is submission. The tolerance equals to live and let live. "

Then, watching the horizon and saw the twilight " ... by the way, appreciated Sorcerer, is simply distorting reality madness "

her in her infinite wisdom is simply divine.

All the best for you.