Welcome comments have long ceased to come to this and unwelcome ones never came (I'm in doubt now - should I thank or regret?).
I'm all too left to myself here with this blog meant to fetch me readers the blogosphere over.
This blog is certainly visible virtually everywhere now and so I tell you all, folks, that feeling ignored by the whole world has a certain intrinsic grandeur, for sure, not the kind I have first envisaged, though.
The girl who gave me the boat photo has told us all that the story connected therewith will remain untold by not saying a word about it. Readers who once dropped there and then apparently went God knows whereto for good since they never came back don't seem to care much, either.
Aren't I right in feeling forsaken? Whatever the case I just can't help feeling so. Upon my word, I hate feeling like that and being as much of an idiot as telling you so is the sole explanation I can find for having told I feel forsaken. Especially when I take into account the fact that I still expect to be read. Well, in case no one else reads this blog I won't merely feel forsaken, but will have actually been.
Can I withstand so much? Of course yes, I lie to myself (in utter bewilderment, since I hate to the limit of my strength all lies, liars and lying alike) while the mere though gives me an impression of actual forsakenness that's almost unbearable.
Is anyone out there? Is anyone out there?
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:)) eu estive cá ***
Agradecido, Ana; então, havia alguém na blogosfera, e pessoa lusófona, ainda. Thank you so much.
Well, even if no one would reach your blog I guess you should write it: it helps your soul to develop and it's always nice to practice another language, huh? :P
I'm well impressed, Chica Maravilla. You're really sensible.
And welcome here, you know.
You posted at my blog back in August when I wrote about my daughter's music. As a new blogger I was surprised to "hear" from someone in another country. I checked out your blogs periodically for awhile - never posting a comment though. Came across your "comment' again when reviewing my last year's postings and clicked the link.
Kudos for "blogging" in English. Even though you may not get any "comments" using another language can at the very least benefit you.
I lived in Italy two years and am again pulling out my "minimal" Italian since starting to write the Christmas 2009 Drama script with a friend who is of Italian descent. What fun to use the language again and to learn in the process. Keep writing - if only to improve your self.
Blessings
JMMEE, I'm very glas to receive you here, with such an encouraging comment. Thank you a lot. The dialog is already on. I'll keep visiting your blog.
Hope you enjoyed the pictures I posted yesterday. Drama is my passion and creating the scripts helps fulfill my need to create and write. I now move beyond being Caroline and begin work on creating Betsy (Elisabeth) for our Christmas 2009 script. Larry and I have begun preliminary character creation and script dialogue. So I continue to create and write - it is not often far from my thoughts.
Now the question is, have you ceased to write in English? No posting on your English blog since early December.
No, JMMEE I'll write in English for the rest of my lifetime, you bet.
Only too busy with a sudden overload of work (bills to pay come fierce as usual, you certainly know, since it seems to be like that everywhere the world over, so I also have to make ends meet and my only practical way at hand consists in accepting as much work as I can do by myself).
Upon my word, my indebtedness with fellow bloggers who read me will be settled, anyway.
Thank you so much for visiting this blog and congratulations on your creative activities, of which I expet to hear ever more.
hi dear
i come here, to 'your english blog', just to show you and your readers something i really love
i don't know if this place is the better one
but i hope you'll understand, it's also an opportunity for me to practice 'my english' talking to you and sharing everything...
Funeral Blues
W.H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Piccola I consider your visit a windfall. Welcome here, there and everywhere.
I love you.
Of course there's someone out there,João Esteves !
Its a good thing to express what's inside of you. It touched my soul!
Hope you continue to express - the inner you!!
Peace!
B.A
Betty, what a good surprise to me. You came and shoved in sucha an encouraging message.
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