The Smile ….

😊⭐️❤️

!ns¡ght

I saw you, dear, with a smile on your face,

followed your mind as you sway

and made my heart yearn for thee

and made my lips accustomed to your name

Just by the smile on your face.

You made my heart a vacant space

filled by your, only presence!

i walked your steps and your treads

towards the turn where i turned away, only.

Just by the smile on your face.

My eyes tries to tell my endearment

the stone on my heart shadowed, before it radiates

a will, passion and desire so strong yet so weak ,

a feeling of closeness remains

just by the smile on your face.

You as a whole but seems a part of me

dry tears of my affection just echoes in your ears

stumbling cares’ words I share

your heart beating and just beated, only

but i smile just by the smile…

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School burdens !!

Memoirs of a Hayseed Physicist by Peter Martel

swo8

Part 23:
My First University:
The work at the Nova Scotia Research Foundation was “invaluable” to me because it paid above average wages and all living expenses while in the field. If I did not get the job, my academic career would come to a stop. Fortunately, my benefactor seemed unconcerned about my physics results.

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With permission of the author. This is an on going story one paragraph at a time beginning on the post of July 6th. We will get back to our music and art after this little break.

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What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done??

Mithai Mumblezz

Hola my dear friends!! How is time treating you??

Its been soooo long since I last posted…..A lottttt of things have happened since then!!

I did something very very CRAZY.

I have finally finished college and am officially an Engineer!!

And had two pretty decent job offers waiting for me.

I didn’t take up either of the jobs.

I am going ahead with my own business which I had started while in 3rd year at college.

You know, they make all those feel good movies about self discovery and following your dreams……..well they always were very uninspirational and crap talk to me.

But damnit I did it!

I hadn’t planned this. It was a sudden decision.

And last couple of months was all about that.

The Multinational Company where I got my first job, was also the first company to send the joining.

I had already made up my…

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Why do people have to leave each other? Neden insanlar birbirlerini bırakmak zorundadırlar? by Yasmin Mogahed

YA BAKİ ENTEL BAKİ

When I was 17 years old, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was sitting inside a masjid and a little girl walked up to ask me a question. She asked me: “Why do people have to leave each other?” The question was a personal one, but it seemed clear to me why the question was chosen for me.
I was one to get attached.

Ever since I was a child, this temperament was clear. While other children in preschool could easily recover once their parents left, I could not. My tears, once set in motion, did not stop easily. As I grew up, I learned to become attached to everything around me. From the time I was in first grade, I needed a best friend. As I got older, any fall-out with a friend shattered me. I couldn’t let go of anything. People, places, events, photographs, moments—even outcomes…

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Memoirs of a Hayseed Physicist by Peter Martel

swo8

Part 22:
My First University:
In English, my final standing was fourth in a class of two hundred and fifty. My marks in physics was a non-spectacular fifty, in part because I had spent the weekends from Friday to Sunday night working for a large department store. This was a calamity of sorts, because my mother had contacted an old school friend of hers on my behalf at the Nova Scotia Research Foundation – a provincial laboratory specializing in Geophysics. This friend had accepted my mother’s word that I was a genius and had recommended me to the head of the Geophysics section – a man who might hire me for invaluable summer work.

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With permission of the author. This is an on going story one paragraph at a time beginning on the post of July 6th. We will get back to our music and art after this little break.

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Marquis Hill. The Way We Play. US 2016.

Memoirs of a Hayseed Physicist by Peter Martel

swo8

Part 21:
My First University:
English required that a lot of time be spent writing essays, which I diligently wrote every week. A selection of half a dozen or so essays of the previous week would be reviewed by the professor. Mine was always included. I was naive enough to think that this was because I was very good at English. In actual fact, of course, I was some five years older than most of the other students and hence my perspective on Milton and Shakespeare was much more mature.

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With permission of the author. This is an on going story one paragraph at a time beginning on the post of July 6th. We will get back to our music and art after this little break.

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Geyser of Ideas

Friendly Fairy Tales

Old Faithful Geyser of California

September brings so many thoughts, ideas and plans,
things to do, see to, begin, accomplish and enjoy,
that my subterranean reservoir fills until ideas
geyser up in a hot, fraught fountain of chaos. 

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La cordillera, lumbre dorada, Futur

bell@espíritu

Bajo la dirección de Santiago Mitre, Ricardo Darín se supera a sí mismo en esta coproducción argentina-franco-española. Y es que en el mundo de la política, sólo accesible de manera formal a través de la ilusión o maya, nada es lo que parece: un complejo conglomerado de traiciones, intimidades ocultas y oscuridades veladas a las que no tenemos acceso los desprevenidos ciudadanos.

Hernán Blanco es el presidente argentino elegido por su empatía con el hombre común, un campechano dirigente del interior del país que llegó a la primera magistratura por esta condición cultivada con esmero. Blanco desciende de inmigrantes, gobernaba una pequeña intendencia, es padre de una hija y abuelo de dos nietos. Su apellido, sinónimo de pureza, fue empleado para completar el perfil más que conveniente que culminó con su arribo al poder.

Blanco ha de enfrentar su primera cumbre latinoamericana de presidentes y no parece sentirse demasiado cómodo…

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