Were To Get The Master Ball In Shiny Gold

communication. L'intériorité

Floor me a dinner with sushi, wine and raspberry pie.

One, Anais, wanted to give me a massage. She studied osteopathy, has a large and comfy couch for massages, and lots of bottles with scents that smell just plain wrong, and she loves to massage over all things.

I take off my shirt, I unfastened my bra, and I lie. Start massaging, slowly, but forcefully. And he says many things with his hands. With his mouth too, but still there that language barrier. I can understand what he says, semantically, but not-yet-I can reach the true depth of his words. Expressions, fear, the sadness, all that. A film by Jim Jarmusch, a wall, the isolation.

Then, with his hands on my shoulder blades started to tell me, softly, as if afraid to disturb my inspirations and expirations:
you know? I do not know if you know it. I do not know if you know that my mother died when I was very young, in a car accident. we are three brothers, and then my father, he did very hard to raise us alone. I was sad, crying day and night. and then suddenly stopped talking. ceased to speak to the three for months, but every night before bed, giving us a massage. and that was how we communicated, we said things with his hands, we wanted, he was sorry, that was sad but had to be strong for us. we loved very much, although we do not talk with your mouth.

I found a lovely story, so, with that light in particular, with the sound environment, told in French, next to a skeleton much taller than me you have in your room to study, with goose bumps because nights are so cold.

tonight This is how the communication is different from other touch.