Plain sign talk was a sign language used on the North American continent, from northern Mexico to Northern Quebec and everywhere in between. It worked well there, and it would help to bring people together while removing any fears about one single dominant language.
Plus learning sign language as a second language helps with general social skills and improves the brain's ability to contextualize and integrate new information.
30E >Gossard Glossies, white, slightly worn 20€
>Freya Deco Vibe, orchid, new with tags, 30€
>Cleo Maddie, beige, slightly worn 15€
>Simone perele, light blue, push up pads, never worn, 20€
>Bikini top from form & fold, crossed back, model "the tri", new with tags, 28€
matching bottoms in black, size 8(UK), worn one time, and blue+black size 8(uk) new with tags
32D >Linga Dore push up, turquoise, new with tags, 10€
32DD >Triumph sexy spotlight, black, slightly worn, 15€ >2x palm spotlight, pink, slightly worn, one for 12€
30E,Gossard glossies Would love to swap for the same model(colour doesn't matter) , a 30F or 28FF
32E,cleo, Maddie Would love to swap with the same model(colour doesn't matter) size 28FF or 30F, considering 28G or 30FF
Shipping from Germany, shipping worldwide (costs are additional) Bundles are possible, I will give you a discount on them, :)
This line is repeated three times in the poem Bahay Kubo. Is there a special symbolism for sesame seeds in Filipino culture?
For the past few months, I've been trying to look for my answer. But, I'm unable to, mainly because I don't just get how it still works, how to confirm my belief on Lord Shiva? How do I verify whether am I on my right path to experience Shiva or simply becoming blind in my own imagination?
I know, these are shallow questions, but, also the very base of most of our belief systems. I want to see things as it is, without any assumption and conditioned thought process.
Is there even a God exists in the world? Or, we're just trying to fool ourselves to feed our vulnerabilities.
The frame of the body was bitten out
Smell of eternal saliva and blood, comfortable finally in each other’s inevitable company
Going on, moving on from nothing to nothing, fearing pleasure above all
If the road had mercy, it would send my way a drunken truck driver
To not have spelled everything in in so much difficulty, which worked only to hide a same old desire
To live happily, or to die happily, or to be unhappy, any of your personal choice
Her bitten-out frame, from whose calluses grease seep out a-glistenin’
Horns from astral beings blew them, out of no intentions, her bent path downward to yet greater horrors
And at which state, surely, we’ll not even say that “nothing matters”, or “sadness would forbid this”, or “suffer we can, only in privacy”
Guilt will know its methodology to crawl out of rotting vessel to hunt for livelihood elsewhere
But we never knew how to crawl out of thisworld.
Each day seems to be sth perverse that has left you to be able to do no more
Than positioning yourself to attempt to sleep, beyond evictions and starvations
Sleep would not blend you perfectly into your death
Sleep hides you not away from yourself, much less from the world that chased you to want to run away from yourself in the first place
In the perfect body of misery
Do you see urself as we see you? -
Boiling in the wallowing manure of yourself so evenly,
Sat in a forest of raking husks of guilts that had long left you dangled in life, now emptier than death -
Emptier than death, and you boil evenly.
Feel nothing, yet everything pains you;
Pained with nothing, yet feeling all that are not there;
All consequences, no effects;
Do you nightly dash your face into a brick wall to revoke your youth of life?
The loveliest bottom-dwelling meditator of the world that surrounds that is a swamp -
Does your sluggish pains not blind you internally
And receded be you, your everything, a mercury swing, all was eaten, all for to be eaten, apple cores with miniature forests, flat or propped most horrific
Not remembering anything, yet all things had come to haunt you;
A drop of care in your face of swelling miseries, and you yelp, you throat-less singular frame of bitten gob, remanded by
Your time-losing fatness’ studiously interwoven, unsightly, palpitating smells,
And you yelp positively like an idea for a wooden idiot:
“Kill me, kill me”
From across the sawdust stained floor, the band had eaten clean the remainder half of your left thigh;... keep reading on reddit ➡