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consolation.

If we feel bad, we console ourselves with the thought that it could be worse. If it's really bad, we cling to the hope that it can only get better.

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Reaping what we sow.

All your questions at everyone wants to know: Why is it clear why? Why why does it sucks me? Do you have her something that did not I? War I as I get well? I am I am also on start? More and more I pitch, everything all wrong. What do whatever it is, almost, almost always sucks. If I were I were he, I would have had I just them. My life life is empty, only mono monotony. Will finally will last longer if I had I should have earned it. Would not 'that would not' fair? Present 'present' or never. Why why am I always the idiot and why why others have not I the millions? I can, I can not quite up to the top? I think I think I give up, the longer I run longer. I'd would so much, how can how can I teach it?
Will I want to please someone explain to me the times?

- Fanta 4 ~ harvest what we sow -

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Oh Lord.

You came from heaven to earth, to show the way
.
From the earth to the cross, my debts to pay
,
from the cross to the grave,
from the grave to the sky, Lord I lift your name
on high.

- Rick Founds -

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hope.

hope is something that what we imagine. Hope is just there so that we strengthen our self-confidence, so we think that it's not the end. But as much as we do we hope, the disappointment is greater. And so we fall into self-pity. It's like the truth that one can so much hurt. Therefore, we start to lie to feel the pain do not.

"life is change"

the stone said to the flower and flew away.

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without you.

And again, that feeling again this pain which can not let me sleep. Still the thought of being alone. The fear of never seeing you again, you lose it forever. Do not leave me alone. Without you I'm just a pot without a lid, a banana shell, a heart without a heartbeat. And that heart can never live.

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beauty.

masked ball. Stomach in, chest out, smile follow suit, lips, smile, "Well, and yourself?" Smile, "No, really, how interesting!" Smile. Below. Puke.

beauty is not a coat that one becomes covered, it is not a form into which you can be pressed. It is a confession. Every woman redefined beauty in every situation every day. It is not a single thought. Beauty is everywhere. In each body, in every face in every woman.

- May Troung, photographer -

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When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered Pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad" was, you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - But then you'd relent and roll me on the back to give me a belly rub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but together we got it under control. I remember those nights where I snuggled in bed to you and you listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be better. We went for long walks in the park, turned laps with the car, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs "you said), and I took long naps in the sun, while waiting for your evening return Gradually, you began spending more time at work and your career -. and also with the time searching for a human mate. . I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee when you came home and when you fell in love you, now your wife is not a "dog person" - still I was it is welcome in our home, tried to show her affection and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then came the Human babies, and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled and wanted to mother them, too. Only that you and your wife you had fear that I might hurt them, and I spent most of the time banished to another room, or in my hut. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." When they grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on the nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would they defend with my life if it had been necessary. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There was a time when others asked you if you had a dog, a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. In recent years, you just "yes" answer and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and every expenditure on my you resented in the eye. Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for them." With a shrug they threw you a pained look.
know what to expect a dog or a cat in middle-aged - even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy, please! Me not let them take my dog!" And I did I worry about him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You have to leave me patted his head, avoided my eyes, and politely to the collar and leash. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find a good home for me. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?". You take care of us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. Of course we will fed, but I have lost my appetite days ago. At first, I always ran to the front, whenever anyone passed my pen, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream had been. or I hoped it would at least be someone who had an interest in me and might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the hilarious crave for attention-hearted puppy, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated into my far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came at the end of the day, to get me and I padded along the aisle after her to a secluded Space. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears and told me it was all right. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out. My nature, I was more concerned about her. Your task is heavy on her, and I felt the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand to comfort her, everything I had comforted you many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. When I felt the sting and felt the cool liquid coursing through my body, I was sleepy and lay down, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?" Perhaps she understood my dog, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explain to me that it was make her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I would be ignored or abused may be suspended or on my own would be - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last strength I tried her with a thump of my tail to convey to that my "How could you?" not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I thought. I will think of you and wait for you. May you show everyone in your life so much loyalty.

We encourage you to "How could you?" to publish and so help to change the popular notion of animals as "disposable" and to keep in mind that the decision to take an animal into a family that means a commitment which lasts for the lifetime of the animal! Jim Willis

text: Jim Willis, "The quiet voice of the soul"
© Copyright 2006 ComArt, Weggis, Switzerland

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fluke.

On many a warm summer day was the mayfly dance around the crown of an old tree, floated lived, and felt happy and when the little creature in a moment silent bliss of the large, fresh leaves rested, said the tree always: "Poor little thing! Only one day lasts all your life! How short it is! How sad "
-?" Sorry "replied then always flash in the pan," What do you mean? Everything is light so beautiful, so warm and beautiful, and I myself am happy! "
- "But only one day, and it's all over!"
-? "Gone," said the flash in the pan, "What is over? Will you be over, "
-" No, I'm maybe thousands of your days, and my days are all seasons! This is something for so long that you figure out it can not "
-" No, because I do not understand you! You are thousands of my days, but I have thousands of moments where I can be glad and happy! Listening for all the glory of this world, when you die "
-?" No, "said the tree," which certainly lasts longer, infinitely longer than I can remember "
- "But then we have the same amount, except that we expect different!"
-Hans Christian Andersen

Life is too short to to deal with things that do not make you happy.