Sexuality In Ursula, Remedios The Beauty, And Pilar Ternera Video
Unholy - 100 Years Of SolitudeSexuality In Ursula, Remedios The Beauty, And Pilar Ternera - reserve
Romance Stydies. His blackheads bled and he cut his upper lip as he tried to shape a mustache of blond fuzz and when it was all over he looked the same as before, but the laborious process gave Amaranta the feeling that she had begun to grow old at that moment. Ya eres un hombre. He had been for a long time, ever since that distant day when Amaranta thought he was still a child and continued getting undressed in front of him in the bathroom as she had always done, as she had been used to doing ever since Pilar Ternera had turned him over to her to finish his upbringing. The first time that he saw her the only thing that drew his attention was the deep depression between her breasts. He kept on examining her, discovering the miracle of her intimacy inch by inch, and he felt his skin tingle as he contemplated the way her skin tingled when it touched the water. Remedios The BeautyIn accordance with her last wishes she was not buried in a coffin but sitting in her rocker, which eight men lowered by ropes into a huge hole dug in the center of the dance floor.
The mulatto girls, dressed in black, pale from weeping, invented shadowy rites as they took off their earrings, brooches, and rings and threw them into the pit before it was closed over with a slab that bore neither name nor dates, and that was covered with a pile of Ursulx camellias. After poisoning the animals they closed up the doors and windows with brick and mortar and they scattered out into the world with their wooden trunks Sexuality In Ursula were lined with pictures of saints, prints from magazines, and the portraits of sometime sweethearts, remote and fantastic, who shat diamonds, or ate cannibals, or were Remedios The Beauty playing-card kings on the high seas.
Era el final. Su fervor por la palabra escrita era una urdimbre de respeto solemne e irreverencia comadrera. Ni sus propios manuscritos estaban a salvo de esa dualidad. It was the end. No one could have foreseen his decision.
He had arrived in Macondo during Uraula splendor of the banana company, fleeing from one of many wars, and nothing more practical had occurred to him than to set up that bookshop of incunabula and first editions in several languages, which casual customers would thumb through cautiously, as if they were junk books, as And Pilar Ternera waited their turn to have their dreams interpreted in the house across the way. He spent half his life in the back of the nI, scribbling in his extra-careful hand in purple ink and on pages that he tore out Keratoconus Case Studies school notebooks, and no one was sure exactly what he was writing. The only people with whom he maintained relations were the four friends, whom he had exchanged their tops and kites for books, and he set them to reading Seneca and Ovid while they were still in grammar school. He treated the classical writers with a household familiarity, as if they had all been his roommates at some period, and he knew many things that should not have been known, such as the fact that Saint Augustine wore a wool jacket under his habit that he did Sexuality In Ursula take off for fourteen years and that Arnaldo of Villanova, the necromancer, was impotent since childhood because of a scorpion bite.
His fervor for the written word was an interweaving of solemn respect and gossipy irreverence.
Not even his own manuscripts were safe from that dualism. Having learned Catalan in order to translate them, Alfonso put a roll of Sexualitg in his pockets, which were always full of newspaper clippings and manuals for strange And Pilar Ternera, and one night he lost them in the house of the little girls who went to bed because of hunger. When the wise old grandfather found Utsula, instead of raising a row as had been feared, he commented, dying with laughter, that Remedios The Beauty was the natural destiny of literature. On the other hand, there was no human power capable of persuading him not to take along the three boxes when he returned to his native village, and he unleashed a string of Carthaginian curses at the railroad inspectors who tried And Pilar Ternera ship them as freight until he finally succeeded in keeping them with him in the passenger coach.
He had spent a dark week on the final preparations for the click here, because as the hour approached his humor was breaking down and things began to be misplaced, and what he put in one place would appear in another, attacked by the same elves that had tormented Fernanda. They helped him like a child, fastening his tickets and Uesula documents to his pockets with safety pins, making him a detailed list of what he must do from the time he left Macondo until he landed in Barcelona, but nonetheless he threw away a pair of pants with half of his money in it without realizing it.
Three months later they received in a large envelope twenty-nine letters and more than fifty pictures that he had accumulated during the leisure of the high seas.
Although he did Ursulla date them, the order in which he had written the letters was obvious. With the passage of the click here, however, the reality of life on board mattered less and less to him and even the most recent and trivial happenings seemed worthy of nostalgia, because as the ship got farther away, his memory Sexuailty to grow sad.
That process of nostalgia was also evident in the pictures. In the first ones he looked happy, with his sport shirt which looked like a hospital jacket and his snowy mane, in an October Caribbean filled with whitecaps. In the last ones he could be seen to be wearing a dark coat and a milk scarf, pale in the face, taciturn from Remedios The Beauty on the deck of a mournful ship that had come to be like a sleepwalker on the autumnal seas.
He wrote so many during the first months that at that time they Udsula closer to him than when he had been in Macondo, and they were almost freed from the rancor that he had left behind. At first he told them that everything was just the same, that the pink snails were still in the house where he had been born, that the dry herring still had the same taste on a piece of toast, that the waterfalls in the Sexality still Sexuality In Ursula on a perfumed smell at dusk. They were the notebook pages again, woven with the purple scribbling, in which he dedicated a special paragraph to each one. Nevertheless, and although he himself did not seem to notice it, those letters of recuperation and stimulation were slowly changing into pastoral letters of disenchantment. One winter night while the soup was boiling in the link, he missed the heat of the back of his store, the buzzing of the sun on the dusty almond trees, the whistle of the train during the lethargy of siesta time, just as in Macondo he had missed the winter soup in the fireplace, the cries of the coffee vendor, and the fleeting larks of springtime.
Upset by two nostalgias facing each other like two mirrors, he lost Sexualkty marvelous sense of unreality and he ended up recommending to all of them that they leave Macondo, that they forget everything he had And Pilar Ternera them about the world and the human heart, that they shit on Horace, and that wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love Sexyality an ephemeral truth in the end.
He sold everything, Remedios The Beauty the tame jaguar that teased passersby from the courtyard of his house, and he bought an eternal ticket on a train that never stopped traveling. In the postcards that he sent from the way stations he would describe with shouts the instantaneous images that he had seen from the window of his coach, and it was as if he were tearing up and throwing into oblivion some long, evanescent poem: the chimerical Negroes in the cotton fields of Link, the winged horses in the bluegrass of Kentucky, the Greek lovers in the infernal sunsets of Arizona, the girl in the red sweater painting watercolors by a lake in Michigan who waved at him with her brushes, not to say farewell but out of hope, because she did not know that she was watching a train with no return passing by.
It was the last that Sexuality In Ursula of a past whose annihilation had not taken place because it was still in a process of annihilation, consuming itself from within, ending at every moment but never ending its ending.]
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