tonight, time is the secret (Janette Bertrand, get out of the body).
I humbly admit it. Yes. Like many other women before me, and despite my feminist side-self-emancipated but not-too-I in the past, ever wanted - secretly, of course - to be elected two men. Like a fantasy egocentric confessed lip, almost furtively. Selfishly. Capsize two hearts. You know, a little story on the edge of the grotesque, half mid Harlequin romance romantic comedy sauce Hollywood.
But that was before being plunged into turmoil.
Yes, I have a Bridget Jones in me. Probably. Like many others, probably.
However, the heroine of the story, the story of it, mine, my story, is not a fictional character. She has a conscience, which dictates what is good or not, she has a heart, she knows how to listen sometimes belatedly, a head that goes her head, and a soul certainly a bit much clueless.
Be loved by two men at once is not an epic. Rather, in my view, an ode to torture. In dementia. Be desired, I strut madly, ultimately I think it is a luxury, sometimes a reward, but rarely a hello. So that being loved, a feeling that tears, which pierces, I can not, if this sentiment implies that tears me from quartering I am, what I want to be.
Inevitably, this kind of situation hurts everyone involved. Although. Even if. Anyway. Despite all my good will. For no one can live without pain. Because it must certainly be wrong to live. We must suffer to feel truly alive. And today, I know what it is like being alive.
The synopsis does not say how that one has overcome her grief. For separation, a step that ends, it is also a bereavement. The story does not say whether he forgot, he has pardoned or has forgotten forgive. The fallen hero would like to know happy though. She hopes that she is meurtissure author will heal with time.
The synopsis suggests, however, that one, who chose it. She who was to start thinking. This, but this one. The latter, which at this stage of his life, found himself at the forefront. He emerged after a series of signs that she has tried to push too softly with the back of the hand, but that she could not ignore for long. Whoever brought her what she was looking likely. Whoever he was, presumably, allowed to bloom again in the spring after hibernation started without his knowledge. One who has, quite simply.
What the future holds?
And this film, he has a happy ending worthy of the name?
I'm convinced. Because happy endings , it takes sometimes.
I humbly admit it. Yes. Like many other women before me, and despite my feminist side-self-emancipated but not-too-I in the past, ever wanted - secretly, of course - to be elected two men. Like a fantasy egocentric confessed lip, almost furtively. Selfishly. Capsize two hearts. You know, a little story on the edge of the grotesque, half mid Harlequin romance romantic comedy sauce Hollywood.
But that was before being plunged into turmoil.
Yes, I have a Bridget Jones in me. Probably. Like many others, probably.
However, the heroine of the story, the story of it, mine, my story, is not a fictional character. She has a conscience, which dictates what is good or not, she has a heart, she knows how to listen sometimes belatedly, a head that goes her head, and a soul certainly a bit much clueless.
Be loved by two men at once is not an epic. Rather, in my view, an ode to torture. In dementia. Be desired, I strut madly, ultimately I think it is a luxury, sometimes a reward, but rarely a hello. So that being loved, a feeling that tears, which pierces, I can not, if this sentiment implies that tears me from quartering I am, what I want to be.
Inevitably, this kind of situation hurts everyone involved. Although. Even if. Anyway. Despite all my good will. For no one can live without pain. Because it must certainly be wrong to live. We must suffer to feel truly alive. And today, I know what it is like being alive.
The synopsis does not say how that one has overcome her grief. For separation, a step that ends, it is also a bereavement. The story does not say whether he forgot, he has pardoned or has forgotten forgive. The fallen hero would like to know happy though. She hopes that she is meurtissure author will heal with time.
The synopsis suggests, however, that one, who chose it. She who was to start thinking. This, but this one. The latter, which at this stage of his life, found himself at the forefront. He emerged after a series of signs that she has tried to push too softly with the back of the hand, but that she could not ignore for long. Whoever brought her what she was looking likely. Whoever he was, presumably, allowed to bloom again in the spring after hibernation started without his knowledge. One who has, quite simply.
What the future holds?
And this film, he has a happy ending worthy of the name?
I'm convinced. Because happy endings , it takes sometimes.
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