Something died.
If my real life was a reflection of regularity in the conduct of my blog, I'd be at this time already well nadgniłym individual, probably quite extensively umorusanym soil, and it would be quite unpleasant to sit next to me on the bus. Nevertheless, I return to the bosom of NeoNonsensu, with his usual zest and tart intellect.
This return is not accidental. Actually it's pretty obvious the moment to return to writing a blog. Namely, there comes a period of seasonal strode zapieprzu intellectual, who is a most pleasant time spent in front of wholemeal Tabula blogiennego pane, indeed before another unproductive time eater who's anyone in my life will bring, the progress bar preparation for exams does not push, only blood napsuje, spoil the look and garb strengthen its foundations. Therefore ekce homo, forums, and leap from the manor to Philip of cannabis, to share his miserable being and not to bring absolutely nothing to the history of absolutely anything.
happened tonight is that I took under his arm to guide the political and legal doctrines (or whatever you called the mythological subject matter), then I went to the living room and proceeded to watch Incepcji with his parents. Parents were not able to appreciate the masterpieces, either by grinding the nails nadstrzępione kitchen Rozpierducha Christmas, either pochrapując fiercely at moments and revelations in the moments of incomprehension declaring the application of knowledge as revealed in practice. But I, as someone familiar, she's been, nonchalant and glikokalks a second time, but certainly not the last, after unurzałem neck in Christopher Nolan's masterful history, to sigh for the second time during the final scene, so szubrawczo upierdolonego the word too early. The inclusion of the word, acknowledgment of fulfillment by Parent B chęci announcement to go to bed, I moved out of the salon, but no textbook for political and legal doctrines (or whatever you called the item), after which I can not go back now, because of the risk waking Parent and incite remorse and pangs in my dislike of the above-mentioned. The next evening will be deprived of the necessary absorption of knowledge. Bad luck is bad luck.
In I have up his sleeve, to mitigate this tragedy, as an option plunged into reading the autobiography of Wojciech Mann, who, indeed, is thick, or a notch up (unfortunately not nomen omen) in the work of The Vagina Monologues, which has, as critics praise, open up to me brand new world of female selfhood. Both proposals appear to be tempting, and if there is one o'clock at night, then sleep, we can reject the proposal because it is a season, in which at least in the world wants me to sleep. It is quite characteristic determinant, because outside of this time I want to sleep almost constantly.
As the time comes to choose, I stand before the need to prepare themselves to make it. Therefore, I disappear from the surface of the chair and leaving the world of critical issues and lack of easy answers.
God knows when I will visit here again. Although knowing the curve krzywha enthusiasm, probably it will be today (or tomorrow, depending on whether we accept the idea of \u200b\u200bending up falling asleep, or on the clock).
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