sakeatken
I never understood the desire to be a politician. Who'd want this job? I guess power hungry individuals who look for possible gain at every opportunity.
Hearts are so easily broken. Even without malice intent, by the mere flick of a hand, a turn of phrase, a perceived slight, a broken heart can result. We should be aware that our every move, word, act can result in serious damage to the heart of someone we love.
She thought of him as an insect.... a small bothersome thing that she'd as easily squash as look at. She thought of him as lowly and annoying.... until the summer he turned 19.
He cast her aside like an old shoe. "I'm not happy," he said. Like everyone has a right to be happy. Who the hell ever said that? And why should his happiness come at the expense of hers?
Lust... that thing that drives normally sane people to give up careers, families, respect, social standing. Strange - less is ever surrendered for love than is so often surrendered for lust.
when i was a kid, there was a pretzel guy at the corner of our schoolyard. The soft pretzels were kept hot by chestnuts that roasted underneath. Some kids actually bought and ate the chestnuts. I was not that adventurous. But I loved the hot, salty pretzels.
Domestic bliss. That's what she'd always wanted. Just a simple life, with a good man who loved her madly, a couple of kids and a little house with the cliched white picket fence. What she got instead was far from that...
Sandy lives like a mole. Her office lighting is so dim that I have to feel my way along the walls whenever I go in there. The overhead lights are always off, the binds pulled tight. I guess it's calming to her, but I find it rather depressing.
I'm curious about a lot of things.... I look things up online constantly. Every time I see or hear about something I don't understand, I "google" it. I immediately forget it, of course, but at least for that moment, I've learned something!
Not being a vodka drinker myself, I had no idea which bottle to get for my mother. So I stood in the Duty Free shop, torn between the Smirnoff with the blue label and the one with the red. I finally made my selection and boarded the plane. When I landed and my sisters saw the blue label the three of them winced. "Not the blue label," they cried in unison. Apparently my mother became a bit more intolerable than usual after imbibing the dreaded blue label. Later that week, I would see this first-hand.
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