Men expect so much from me because their minds hold an image of what I should be and what I myself have created - a sex symbol. In Hollywood a girl's virtue is much less important than her hairstyle. You are judged by how you look, not by who you are. Hollywood is a place where they pay you thousands of dollars for a kiss and only fifty cents for your soul.
Every morning, on my way to work, I carry an imagined armful of white roses. I open the door, say loudly - Good morning! - and in my mind I present one flower to each person. The day can begin. Outrageous, Jānis is late again! And I have no roses left... I cast him one stern glance. I know he feels it. Oh well, the main thing is not to get angry - tomorrow I must be more careful and bring one more rose.
So claim the creators of the website. They offer a 49-question test covering various aspects of the site visitor's lifestyle - eating habits, physical activities, stress, parents, and so on.
She revealed herself to me as a woman who made her mutilated body an icon and her pain into art. This explains the many self-portraits, most of which were made lying in bed, where she imagined herself torn apart, with her insides laid open, overgrown with grass and vines.
I used to perceive this question as a certain lack of tact and also slightly as an insult, because since childhood I had been raised to believe that a gift is not only a material, tangible thing, but also an expression of love and appreciation and... also a certain secret, a surprise.
This evening, while preparing for a presentation, I had to poke around in the development of corporate blogs in Latvia. While the private blog or diary niche is flourishing and expanding with laacz.lv, journal.lv, onkulis.com, pods.lv, shulcs.lv, zuz.lv and others at its forefront (sorry, I won't list them all), companies appear to be very cautious about this. Corporate blogs in Latvia can be counted on one hand.
Not every visitor to the town is ready to visit this basement of St. Francis's Church, for it is built from... the skulls and bones of several hundred monks. What can one say - a "remarkably cosy" little spot. The inscription at the door also brings one back to the harsh reality of life - We bones that are here, we are waiting for your's.
The embankment was full of spectators. The cold wind buffeted the skirts of those who had come. Some held red-white-red flags, others cameras and photographic equipment. Everyone craned their necks to catch even a glimpse of the proud defenders of the fatherland marching to the festive march of the accompanying brass band. And there they came...
The uniquely beautiful Arab quarter, the Alfama district, with its somewhat run-down ancient houses, small cobblestone lanes winding uphill, miniature cafés, taverns, and little shops.
There are films that speak to you, and there are those that don't. "Elegy" (Elegy, 2008) is one of the former. Not so much for the age-old revelation that love knows no age, but for the aching sense of loneliness - the loneliness that a person consciously or unconsciously chooses for themselves.