Aka Love Quotes

She was never going to seek gainful employment again, that was for certain. She'd remain outside the public sector. She'd be an anarchist, she'd travel with jaguars. She was going to train herself to be totally irrational. She'd fall in love with a totally inappropriate person. She'd really work on it, but abandon would be involved as well. She'd have different names, a.k.a. Snake, a.k.a. Snow - no that was juvenile. She wanted to be extraordinary, to possess a savage glitter.

Helping each other is humanity's greatest invention. Use it with pride.

Chemistry has energy and it's meant to be felt.

You act happy long enough you'll forget how hurt feels like.

I'll tell u boys it's tough to be alone, and it's tough to love a doll that's not ur own.

Narcissists (and often, by contagion, their unfortunate victims) don't talk, or communicate: they fend off, hide and evade . . . [They] perfect the ability of saying nothing in lengthy Castro-like speeches. Their locution is impregnated with first person pronouns ("I", "me", "my", "mine" - aka "high pronoun density"). The ensuing convoluted sentences are .. a lack of commitment elevated to an ideology. The narcissist prefers to wait and see what procrastination brings: postponement of the inevitable leads to the inevitability of postponement as a strategy of survival.

For thousands of years, my kind had been thought of as nothing more than the stone sculptures perched upon the rooftops of homes and churches. Aka gargoyles. And technically, that’s what we were – but the depiction of a gargoyle was vastly exaggerated. Even the ugliest of all Wardens didn’t have a bulbous nose or fangs jutting from his mouth. It was rather insulting when you thought about it.

What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known, and loved because it is known?

Ten feet away on my right, a pair of wooden double doors remain. Still intact, they survived the devastation the Archgod of Chaos and Destruction, aka DLD, wreaked on Uhna. They stand proudly, refusing to give in to reality. The hot air from the Teryn ship blasts the doors, shaking them in their frame. The wood creaks, resisting the pressure for a moment. Then the doors come crashing down to the ground. If they couldn’t survive the arrival of the Teryn praelor, what chance do I have?

Until you showed up, I thought we were going to have some fun. Maybe play some games, throw a party, break into a top security building and take selfies? You pick, though I’m leaning toward the latter. I’d love to see the inside of the Pentagon.

Dear Rook (AKA Gidget),   I’ve never had the urge to write a love letter but I’m lying in bed, looking over at your side, wondering if I can somehow change your mind about this whole deal and talk you into coming the fuck home. (I’m a selfish asshole, I know.) But I get that you need this so I’ll just say this instead: I felt like I was leaving a piece of my soul behind the moment I left. And every second that passes, I miss you like that, times a million.   Love, Ronin (AKA Larue)

The secret to gaining the whole world is to keep your soul.

A loud, purposeful knock on the front door froze him in place with his fist over the fabric. “Hey, dude, it’s me. I brought you all four Bloodsport movies. Open up!” Jason’s voice filtered past the front door, and he and Violet flew apart like teenagers at a party raid. No way. This wasn’t happening. He had not just gotten cock-blocked by his best friend and partner, AKA the only living relative of the woman he’d very nearly stripped naked in his front hallway.

I am friends with Kathleen Hanna and Adam Horovitz, aka Ad-Rock from the Beastie Boys. I can’t believe I am friends with them. I love Kathleen’s music and I am in awe of her social activism and general awesomeness. I asked her to interview me for Interview magazine when I was just a sketch performer whom nobody knew. She said yes because she supports young women. This is the artist who pulled women to the front at her rock shows. She shows up and does the work and is the real deal. Now she is my friend.

A mental disease has swept the planet: banalization. Everyone is hypnotized by production and comfort -- sewage system, elevator, bathroom, washing machine. This state of affairs, which arose out of a struggle against poverty, overshoots its ultimate goal -- the liberation of humanity from material cares -- and becomes an obsessive image hanging over the present. Between love and a garbage disposal, young people of all countries have made their choice and prefer the garbage disposal. A complete and sudden change of spirit has become essential, by bringing to light forgotten desires and creating entirely new ones. And by an intensive propaganda in favor of these desires. Gilles Ivain (aka Ivan Chtcheglov)

A defeat for humanity would be the failure to recognise the rights of two people who love each other. A defeat for humanity is that people accept such hatred and discrimination into their hearts. A defeat for humanity would be the failure of the church to recognise that nobody can control who a person loves. A victory for humanity would be the dissolution of a theocratic dystopia that promotes anti-equality (aka "the Vatican") which has no place in a modern society.

The most procession that ever comes to a man in this world is a women's heart.

We don't lose our loved ones when they die. We gain guardian angels. - Tanya Masse aka Comic Strip Mama

To know God is to know yourself!

The devil's favorite place to hide is on the other side of love!

When we step onto the bridge, Nathan turns and spreads his arms out wide. ‘Welcome to Pont des Arts, a.k.a. The Lock Bridge.

It doesn't matter if your life is perfect as long as your hair color is.

Spirit means Breath and without one or the other there is no life.

To be successfully independent, you must view life as if all of your love ones are dead and the world is against you.

Those of us with Big Hearts are like Big Banks, we are too Big to fail!

God is another word for Love.

The dating apps I’m willing to sign up on—AKA the

We always have choices. Choose to respond with our best selves. Choose to focus on what we can control. -Coach AKA The Hulk

You have to realize that in life there’re certain things out of your control. You can only do so much and hope that the situation would be remedied. "It is what it is," so don’t be in denial and know your limits. If it’s meant to be then a short conversation would solve the situation, otherwise you're investing resources into something that’s really nothing. Just say and do what's necessary and if it doesn’t work out then so be it. Move on with the attitude like "Fuck It." Chapters in life are meant to end so the next can start and GOD leaves no one empty handed.

But a risk-free life wasn't much of a life, really, and if she was going to change, she might as well start now.” this book also had a lesson of taking risks for Lexi she was a middle aged women who was waiting for that one guy to sweep her off her feet. well one had come along (aka Jeremy Marsh) and she was about to let him go. but she got out of her comfort zone and loved him.

Many of you doubt that a three-year-old could speak like that. Some of you are probably worried that your doubt is racist and classist. After all, how could a poor reservation Indian kid be that self-possessed and radical? Well that was me. I was the UnChild. I said, "I will spell my name the way I want to spell my name." I vividly remember the expression on the ex-holy man's face. I have seen that expression on many faces. I have often caused that expression. That expression means "I might win this one fight with Junior, a.k.a. Sherman Two, the son of Lillian the Cruel, but he will immediately start another fight. And another. And another.

We leave to monsieur Le Corbusier his style that suits factories as well as it does hospitals. And the prisons of the future: is he not already building churches? I do not know what this individual -- ugly of countenance and hideous in his conceptions of the world -- is repressing to make him want thus to crush humanity under ignoble heaps of reinforced concrete, a noble material that ought to permit an aerial articulation of space superior to Flamboyant Gothic. His power of cretinization is vast. A model by Corbusier is the only image that brings to my mind the idea of immediate suicide. With him moreover any remaining job will fade. And love -- passion -- liberty. Gilles Ivain (aka Ivan Chtcheglov)

And then finally she came - and the whole world faded out around us and we were just alone on the crowded sidewalk. I've heard it called love. ("I Won't Take a Minute" aka "I'll Just Be a Minute" aka "Wait for Me Downstairs" aka "Finger Of Doom")

Fuck u for saying I love u knowing u didn't mean what u said u when u know my uncle was dead telling people u broke up with me chatting on me with my bff knowing she a was wanting a boyfriend your a list to man kind making your gender look bad aka octravious Shelton we are over

Stop searching for that perfect person you hope for. Stop searching for someone who would meet the standards you set as spouse material, instead love the one who's already next to you, who has always been there for you, and never done you wrong. Perfection doesn't exist in anyone, including you.

I already learned the hard way that when something was bothering him, he shut down and retreated until he was over it... I’d learned that sometimes the people who instinctively went with that reaction, needed someone to say “screw it” and go after them anyway. ~ Ruby & Aaron aka Ruron (ʃƪ＾3＾）

Modern spirituality can quickly descend into a pissing contest of who can be more forgiving, more loving, more positive in the face of troubles, and although those are great goals and inspo-meme fodder, the truth is that this mindset of undiscerning (a.k.a. toxic) positivity is not an effective salve for the wounds we carry.

A.K.A kirefu chake ni 'Also Known As'. K.K.K kirefu chake ni 'Kadhalika Kikijulikana Kama'. K.N.K kirefu chake ni 'Kadhalika Nikijulikana Kama'. K.A.K kirefu chake ni 'Kadhalika Akijulikana Kama'. Kadhalika, unaweza kusema P.K.K (Pia Kikijulikana Kama), P.N.K (Pia Nikijulikana Kama) au P.A.K (Pia Akijulikana Kama).Tujifunze kuupenda utamaduni wetu, ili vizazi vijavyo visisumbuke.

I want a partnership, with someone as strong as me. Not someone who sees me as competition or a threat to them because I earn more than them. I want someone who won’t expect me to do the hoovering or cook dinner just because I happen to have two X chromosomes, which is why I also don’t intend to have kids, I’d be the one that would have to take a ‘career break’ – AKA professional suicide.

I’d love to be considered unselfish and Christlike, but as a woman it’s nearly impossible. Jesus had a penis, so he could feed a homeless person without the dude saying, “Hey, I know phones haven’t been invented yet but can I have your number?” Jesus could be nice to strangers without them getting the wrong idea and calling him a tease. And let me remind you once again that Jesus, aka the original Oprah, did not have children either. 7.

From my friend Oleksandr, a.k.a. Z --I loved this IMMEDIATELY There is a famous speech from film noir The Third Man: After all, it’s not that awful. You know what the fellow said – in Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, they had five hundred years of democracy and peace. And what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

God, she was gorgeous. Pure and cleanly beautiful. From the rounded crests of her cheeks to the delicate sweep of her jaw, she had the kind of face sculptors memorialized in marble and the rest of us gazed upon for centuries to come. Of course she was beautiful. She was an actress. Meant to be idolized on the screen. Emma Maron, a.k.a Princess Anya, future queen and conqueror on Dark Castle. The guys and I used to watch the show while traveling between games. Anya was a favorite. Particularly since... I'd seen her breasts. It hit me like a puck to the helmet, and my ears began to ring. I'd seen those perfect creamy handfuls with sweet pink tips that pointed upward, defying gravity and begging to be sucked. I had watched her on hands on knees, perky tits bouncing as Arasmus slammed into her from behind. I actually blushed. Me. The guy who'd had dozens of women throw themselves at him every night since high school. I'd had sex so many times and in so many ways it had become a blur. Nothing shamed me or made me uncomfortable. Yet I started to get hot under the collar, my cheeks burning. After nearly a year of being disinterested in all things sexual, my dick decided to make its presence known and start rising. Now, of all times. Now, when I was stuck in a damn truck less than three feet from a woman, I finally got a hard-on. Lovely. I felt like a damn lecher. "At least it's a beautiful drive," she said, breaking through heated thoughts of creamy breasts with cotton candy nipples.

I want to wish all of my Goodreads friends, A Happy New Year for 2019. Wishing all our great authors lots of success in the upcoming year with your new books. I I hope we are all be healthy, we are loved, and be at peace with each other. We need to give respect in order to receive it in return......May the fairies spread their wings, sprinkle their golden or green dust of blessings upon us for 2019...$$$ would be great too!!! We would love to get more of the hot chemistry alpha men with an equal strong feisty women going toe to toe together. Happy Reading in 2019 :) ❤

Think of twentieth-century Germans, for example. In less than a hundred years the Germans organized themselves into six very different systems: the Hohenzollern Empire, the Weimar Republic, the Third Reich, the German Democratic Republic (aka communist East Germany), the Federal Republic of Germany (aka West Germany), and finally democratic reunited Germany. Of course the Germans kept their language and their love of beer and bratwurst. But is there some unique German essence that distinguishes them from all other nations and that has remained unchanged from Wilhelm II to Angela Merkel? And if you do come up with something, was it also there a thousand years ago, or five thousand years ago?

He reached up and stroked her uninjured cheek. “If you need me, I won’t leave your side. I promise..." THEY MADE HIM leave her side. Due to so-called hospital “policy” and “safety regulations” —aka a load of bullshit—they wouldn’t let Nick accompany Jordan into the X-ray room. He was debating whether to pull out his gun or his FBI badge—figuring one of them ought to do the trick—when Jordan squeezed his hand. “I’ll be fine. Maybe you could try to round me up a Vicodin or something for my wrist?” she suggested. He threw her a knowing look. “You’re trying to distract me.” “Yes. Because I see you making the don’t-fuck-with-me face. And if you start shooting people, they’ll get bumped ahead of me in the X-ray line, and then I’ll really be screwed.

You find nothing like that among humans. Yes, human groups may have distinct social systems, but these are not genetically determined, and they seldom endure for more than a few centuries. Think of twentieth-century Germans, for example. In less than a hundred years the Germans organised themselves into six very different systems: the Hohenzollern Empire, the Weimar Republic, the Third Reich, the German Democratic Republic (aka communist East Germany), the Federal Republic of Germany (aka West Germany), and finally democratic reunited Germany. Of course the Germans kept their language and their love of beer and bratwurst. But is there some unique German essence that distinguishes them from all other nations, and that has remained unchanged from Wilhelm II to Angela Merkel? And if you do come up with something, was it also there 1,000 years ago, or 5,000 years ago? The (unratified) Preamble of the European Constitution begins by stating that it draws inspiration ‘from the cultural, religious and humanist inheritance of Europe, from which “have developed the universal values of the inviolable and inalienable rights of the human person, democracy, equality, freedom and the rule of law’.3 This may easily give one the impression that European civilisation is defined by the values of human rights, democracy, equality and freedom. Countless speeches and documents draw a direct line from ancient Athenian democracy to the present-day EU, celebrating 2,500 years of European freedom and democracy. This is reminiscent of the proverbial blind man who takes hold of an elephant’s tail and concludes that an elephant is a kind of brush. Yes, democratic ideas have been part of European culture for centuries, but they were never the whole. For all its glory and impact, Athenian democracy was a half-hearted experiment that survived for barely 200 years in a small corner of the Balkans. If European civilisation for the past twenty-five centuries has been defined by democracy and human rights, what are we to make of Sparta and Julius Caesar, of the Crusaders and the conquistadores, of the Inquisition and the slave trade, of Louis XIV and Napoleon, of Hitler and Stalin? Were they all intruders from some foreign civilisation?

Alice's Cutie Code TM Version 2.1 - Colour Expansion Pack (aka Because this stuff won’t stop being confusing and my friends are mean edition) From Red to Green, with all the colours in between (wait, okay, that rhymes, but green to red makes more sense. Dang.) From Green to Red, with all the colours in between Friend Sampling Group: Fennie, Casey, Logan, Aisha and Jocelyn Green  Friends’ Reaction: Induces a minimum amount of warm and fuzzies. If you don’t say “aw”, you’re “dead inside”  My Reaction: Sort of agree with friends minus the “dead inside” but because that’s a really awful thing to say. Puppies are a good example. So is Walter Bishop. Green-Yellow  Friends’ Reaction: A noticeable step up from Green warm and fuzzies. Transitioning from cute to slightly attractive. Acceptable crush material. “Kissing.”  My Reaction: A good dance song. Inspirational nature photos. Stuff that makes me laugh. Pairing: Madison and Allen from splash Yellow  Friends’ Reaction: Something that makes you super happy but you don’t know why. “Really pretty, but not too pretty.” Acceptable dating material. People you’d want to “bang on sight.”  My Reaction: Love songs for sure! Cookies for some reason or a really good meal. Makes me feel like it’s possible to hold sunshine, I think. Character: Maxon from the selection series. Music: Carly Rae Jepsen Yellow-Orange  Friends’ Reaction: (When asked for non-sexual examples, no one had an answer. From an objective perspective, *pushes up glasses* this is the breaking point. Answers definitely skew toward romantic or sexual after this.)  My Reaction: Something that really gets me in my feels. Also art – oil paintings of landscapes in particular. (What is with me and scenery? Maybe I should take an art class) Character: Dean Winchester. Model: Liu Wren. Orange  Friends’ Reaction: “So pretty it makes you jealous. Or gay.”  “Definitely agree about the gay part. No homo, though. There’s just some really hot dudes out there.”(Feenie’s side-eye was so intense while the others were answering this part LOLOLOLOLOL.) A really good first date with someone you’d want to see again.  My Reaction: People I would consider very beautiful. A near-perfect season finale. I’ve also cried at this level, which was interesting. o Possible tie-in to romantic feels? Not sure yet. Orange-Red  Friends’ Reaction: “When lust and love collide.” “That Japanese saying ‘koi no yokan.’ It’s kind of like love at first sight but not really. You meet someone and you know you two have a future, like someday you’ll fall in love. Just not right now.” (<-- I like this answer best, yes.) “If I really, really like a girl and I’m interested in her as a person, guess. I’d be cool if she liked the same games as me so we could play together.”  My Reaction: Something that gives me chills or has that time-stopping factor. Lots of staring. An extremely well-decorated room. Singers who have really good voices and can hit and hold superb high notes, like Whitney Houston. Model: Jasmine Tooke. Paring: Abbie and Ichabod from Sleepy Hollow o Romantic thoughts? Someday my prince (or princess, because who am I kidding?) will come? Red (aka the most controversial code)  Friends’ Reaction: “Panty-dropping levels” (<-- wtf Casey???).  “Naked girls.” ”Ryan. And ripped dudes who like to cook topless.”  “K-pop and anime girls.” (<-- Dear. God. The whole table went silent after he said that. Jocelyn was SO UNCOMFORTABLE but tried to hide it OMG it was bad. Fennie literally tried to slap some sense into him.)  My Reaction: Uncontrollable staring. Urge to touch is strong, which I must fight because not everyone is cool with that. There may even be slack-jawed drooling involved. I think that’s what would happen. I’ve never seen or experienced anything that I would give Red to.

claque, aka canned laughter It’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s nothing new under the sun (a heavenly body, by the way, that some Indian ascetics stare at till they go blind). I knew that some things had a history—the Constitution, rhythm and blues, Canada—but it’s the odd little things that surprise me with their storied past. This first struck me when I was reading about anesthetics and I learned that, in the early 1840s, it became fashionable to hold parties where guests would inhale nitrous oxide out of bladders. In other words, Whip-it parties! We held the exact same kind of parties in high school. We’d buy fourteen cans of Reddi-Wip and suck on them till we had successfully obliterated a couple of million neurons and face-planted on my friend Andy’s couch. And we thought we were so cutting edge. And now, I learn about claque, which is essentially a highbrow French word for canned laughter. Canned laughter was invented long before Lucille Ball stuffed chocolates in her face or Ralph Kramden threatened his wife with extreme violence. It goes back to the 4th century B.C., when Greek playwrights hired bands of helpers to laugh at their comedies in order to influence the judges. The Romans also stacked the audience, but they were apparently more interested in applause than chuckles: Nero—emperor and wannabe musician—employed a group of five thousand knights and soldiers to accompany him on his concert tours. But the golden age of canned laughter came in 19th-century France. Almost every theater in France was forced to hire a band called a claque—from claquer, “to clap.” The influential claque leaders, called the chefs de claque, got a monthly payment from the actors. And the brilliant innovation they came up with was specialization. Each claque member had his or her own important job to perform: There were the rieurs, who laughed loudly during comedies. There were the bisseurs, who shouted for encores. There were the commissaires, who would elbow their neighbors and say, “This is the good part.” And my favorite of all, the pleureuses, women who were paid good francs to weep at the sad parts of tragedies. I love this idea. I’m not sure why the networks never thought of canned crying. You’d be watching an ER episode, and a softball player would come in with a bat splinter through his forehead, and you’d hear a little whimper in the background, turning into a wave of sobs. Julie already has trouble keeping her cheeks dry, seeing as she cried during the Joe Millionaire finale. If they added canned crying, she’d be a mess.

That same day we drove to Seville to celebrate. I asked someone for the name of the smartest hotel in Seville. Alfonso XIII, came the reply. It is where the King of Spain always stays. We found the hotel and wandered in. It was amazing. Shara was a little embarrassed as I was dressed in shorts and an old holey jersey, but I sought out a friendly-looking receptionist and told her our story. “Could you help us out? I have hardly any money.” She looked us up and down, paused--then smiled. “Just don’t tell my manager,” she whispered. So we stayed in a $1,000-a-night room for $100 and celebrated--like the King of Spain. The next morning we went on a hunt for a ring. I asked the concierge in my best university Spanish where I would find a good (aka well-priced) jeweler. He looked a little surprised. I tried speaking slower. Eventually I realized that I had actually been asking him where I might find a good mustache shop. I apologized that my Spanish was a little rusty. Shara rolled her eyes again, smiling. When we eventually found a small local jeweler, I had to do some nifty subcounter mathematics, swiftly converting Spanish pesetas into British pounds, to work out whether or not I could afford each ring Shara tried on. We eventually settled on one that was simple, beautiful--and affordable. Just. Love doesn’t require expensive jewelry. And Shara has always been able to make the simple look exquisite. Luckily.

Subject Line:  This means a lot… Or Would love to get your opinion…   Email Text:  Dear friends, family, and colleagues:    Thank you so much for reading this email. This isn’t an easy one for me to send, but it is extremely important to me, so I sincerely appreciate you investing your valuable time reading (and hopefully responding to) it. This email is going out to only a select group of people. Each of you knows me well, and I’m hoping will give me honest feedback about my strengths and most importantly, my weaknesses (aka “areas of improvement.”) I’ve never done anything like this before, but I feel that for me grow and improve as a person, I need to get a more accurate picture of how I’m showing up to the people that matter most to me. In order to become the person I need to be to create the life and contribute to others at the levels that I want, I need your feedback. So, all I’m asking is that you take just a few minutes to email me back with what you honestly think are my top 2-3 “areas of improvement.” If it will make you feel better to also list my top 2-3 “strengths” (I’m sure it will make me feel better J), you are definitely welcome to. That’s it. And please don’t sugarcoat it or hold back anything. I will not be offended by anything that you share. In fact, the more “brutally” honest you are, the more leverage it will give me to make positive changes in my life. Thank you again, and if there is anything else I can do to add value to your life, please let me know. With sincere gratitude,   Your Name

You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.’ Let me introduce myself. I’m River. I’m your current boyfriend. Cross my heart and hope to die—not really, but you know what I mean. There are three things about you that caught my attention: First, you’re smart, too smart for me, but for some reason, you don’t care. Two, if you had wings, they’d be the colors of the rainbow. Three, you touch me, and I have peace. You’re a River-whisperer. Dad told me to take care of Mom, be a good brother to Rae, and wait for Anastasia. He somehow knew you were mine. Where are you from? Apparently, everywhere. Do you know how cool I think you are? Growing up moving around must have been hard, but it created a woman who looks at someone and sees underneath to the parts others don’t. What are you doing after this? I hope after this night, in the future, we’ll be together, in some city, crazy in love. Please tell me you’re single. You aren’t single, Anastasia. You’re mine. Also… I’m not a serial killer. True. Or an alien. (People in Walker really dig that stuff.) True. Or a player. I had my moments. Or a douchebag. Again, had some moments. Or a dick. Okay…maybe once or twice. I’m just the guy in front of you on a snow-covered mountain, baring his soul to the most beautiful girl in the world. You have dreams and I get it. I’ll wait for you forever. No matter how long it takes for us to come back to a place where we can be together for real. Your first reaction to this note may be to run as far as you can, but you only live once, and we can’t lose what we have. Fate has a way of bringing people together, and, baby girl, we’re meant to be. Kappa Boy AKA River Tate AKA Snake AKA Fake River AKA Anastasia’s Man

Important: Be sure to put the outgoing email addresses in the BCC field of the email, so that each recipient doesn’t see everyone else you’re sending it to. (Or, you can copy and paste, then send the email to each person individually.) Subject Line: This means a lot… Or Would love to get your opinion… Email Text: Dear friends, family, and colleagues:  Thank you so much for reading this email. This isn’t an easy one for me to send, but it is extremely important to me, so I sincerely appreciate you investing your valuable time reading (and hopefully responding to) it.  This email is going out to only a select group of people. Each of you knows me well, and I’m hoping will give me honest feedback about my strengths and most importantly, my weaknesses (aka “areas of improvement.”) I’ve never done anything like this before, but I feel that for me grow and improve as a person, I need to get a more accurate picture of how I’m showing up to the people that matter most to me. In order to become the person I need to be to create the life and contribute to others at the levels that I want, I need your feedback.  So, all I’m asking is that you take just a few minutes to email me back with what you honestly think are my top 2-3 “areas of improvement.” If it will make you feel better to also list my top 2-3 “strengths” (I’m sure it will make me feel better ), you are definitely welcome to. That’s it. And please don’t sugarcoat it or hold back anything. I will not be offended by anything that you share. In fact, the more “brutally” honest you are, the more leverage it will give me to make positive changes in my life.  Thank you again, and if there is anything else I can do to add value to your life, please let me know.  With sincere gratitude, Your Name

It was a feeling that I could be a little different from everyone else of my age, and that, if pushed, I could battle against the forces of nature and prevail. Adventure felt the most natural thing in the world, and it was where I came alive. It is what made me feel, for the first time, really myself. As I got older and the rest of my world got more complicated and unnatural, I sought more and more the identity and wholeness that adventure gave me. In short, when I was wet, muddy, and cold, I felt like a million dollars, and when I was with the lads, with everyone desperately trying to be “cool,” I felt more awkward and unsure of myself. I could do mud, but trying to be cool was never a success. So I learned to love the former and shy away from the latter. (Although I gave “cool” a brief, good go as a young teenager, buying winklepicker boots and listening to heavy metal records all through one long winter, both of which were wholly unsatisfying, and subsequently dropped as “boring.”) Instead, I would often dress up in my “worst” (aka my best) and dirtiest clothes, stand under the hosepipe in the garden, get soaking wet--in December--and then go off for a run on my own in the hills. The locals thought me a bit bonkers, but my dog loved it, and I loved it. It felt wild, and it was a feeling that captured me more and more. Once, I returned from one such run caked in mud and ran past a girl I quite fancied. I wondered if she might like the muddy look. It was at least original, I thought. Instead, she crossed the road very quickly, looking at me as if I were just weird. It took me a while to begin to learn that girls don’t always like people who are totally scruffy and covered in mud. And what I considered natural, raw, and wild didn’t necessarily equal sexy. Lesson still in progress.

Always remember that no matter how beautiful you are, you're only as beautiful as the level of respect and love you give to your ownself. Ofcourse, along the way you will make mistakes and some mistakes will pull you to your lowest, but every mistake CAN always be fixed to heal your soul to regain your beauty. Those that can't be fixed, are actually intentional that tend to continue. So be faithful to your ownself and live up to your beauty.

Sometimes the heart weakens the individual that makes him/her do things he/she wouldn't normally do. Following ones heart varies by situations, but should never be followed when making decisions on critical situations. The heart is full of love and compassion thus welling to forgive, show mercy, and weakens the mind of the individual. So, be passionate of your performance and sympathize and empathize with sensitive situations, but let your mind guide your heart.

A designer in England made me several pretty legs with painted nails. They looked freakishly real. My boss hated them. He said they were as ‘fucking impractical as a pair of high-heeled shoes.’ Those legs were ‘prosthetics,’ and wearing them only revealed my vanity. He designed robotic legs, and comparing them to the average prosthesis was the ultimate insult. “Hey love, tell me about my baby.” Thaddeus “Thad” Westbrook wasn’t British, but he always called me love. Why? No idea. I was not his baby, but I think his baby ranked higher than his love. The “smart limb” aka my bionic leg was his baby. I had a lot of his babies, yet we’d never had sex.

Only thing that matters is that it gets you off. Speaking of which…” I sigh as he begins circling my clit with the tip of his finger. “You like that?” “Mm-hmmm.” I arch my back so I have room to grab his cock and stroke it while he pleasures me. The man has magical fingers, magical lips and tongue, a magical cock…yeah, I’ve decided he’s pretty much a unicorn with attitude, aka The Perfect Lover.

Dad loves his father, but he says he has always been the same. Even when his kids were young, Grandpa John was always negative. If Grandma is a glass half full, Grandpa is a totally empty glass with a desert at the bottom of it.   Despite

NICK WOKE UP the next morning not immediately recognizing his surroundings. An occupational hazard. When he felt the silk comforter brush against his bare chest in a caress, he remembered. Jordan. He wondered how angry she’d still be that morning. If he were an introspective person, one of those in-touch-with-hidden-emotions types—aka a woman—he would probably take note of the fact that it was much harder to blow off her dislike of him than it had been merely six days ago. And, if he were an introspective person, he might also ask himself what he’d been doing by calling in that favor with his boss last night. Thank goodness, then, that he wasn’t such a person. Because if he were, he would also have to tell himself to shut up and stop asking so many damn questions. He had an assignment to focus on.

You don’t understand that power is not everything. Understand there is more to life than just power. Being power hungry brings weakness to you. Love, determination, and confidence is what makes people stronger, not trickery and shards of power.” - from The Legend of Cya Sya my dubte novella aka my first book. This was said by the protagonist Cya Sya Do

AKA the work of the devil.

EFT for Blood Sugar Levels By Kate Flegal Oh, my goodness! I just had the most amazing experience with EFT. I have type I diabetes (aka juvenile diabetes), and recently my blood sugars have been running very high, often close to 300 mg/dl, which is in the danger zone for things like diabetic ketoacidosis and long-term complications like blindness and kidney failure if the level stays elevated for long periods. It finally occurred to me to try tapping for my blood sugar this morning. Guess what? My blood sugar is back down to 115—in the good range! I started out by saying, “Even though my blood sugar is high, I deeply and completely love, accept, and forgive myself.” And then I did the full routine several times, focusing on the phrase “blood sugar.” It probably took a total of 5 minutes, and it didn’t take time away from my job; I tapped as I worked. It’s such a huge relief to have my blood sugar back to normal, and not just physically; the emotional toll of high blood sugar is big, too. It’s hard not to feel like a failure when you can’t keep your blood glucose in a good range. I’m confident that with EFT and healthy behavior, I can keep my blood sugars normal. Whew! You can bet I’ll keep using EFT for all of my life, which will be much longer and healthier now that I know how to use EFT to help control my diabetes!

Pure love and possibility, aka Hygge, moves plasmic aetheric space into the fire, air, water, earth, and metal elements in an evolving cycle.

I'll never forget the day I met Rudy (aka Rudolf Nureyev). He was at the St Peter's Theatre for a rehearsal with the Ballet of Nancy on the same stage I would dance with the Young Ballet of Sao Paulo some years later. I saw him leaving the place in the backdoor wearing his Black outfit boots and Bohemian hat. People surrounded him to get his autograph. My sister pulled me out so we wouldn't be massacred by the crowd. He did a very Russian move step-step and stop before a hole (such a cute role) in the sidewalk. Took the limousine and passed right in front of where my sister and I stood. He took a glance at me and had a gentle expression like saying, "yep you stood up from that crowd. I see you..." Lovely soul. I have this image in my heart ever since. What I didn't know then and could never imagine it was that just a few months later I would be dancing with the Ballet of São Paulo in the same Theatre he performed his Apollo. He did send his charisma towards me!

Smile, it costs nothing and it can have such a profound affect on someone's mood.

I take great comfort in believing that life doesn't end, it just changes. Our bodies are pure energy. Energy doesn't die, it transforms. I believe that when we die, we simply change from our human form to our spiritual form and we continue to love, guide and protect the ones we love on earth, as much as our energy will allow. It is the only logical explanation that makes perfect sense. - Tanya Masse aka Comic Strip Mama

Truly, good parenting can be summed up in one sentence: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. The Golden Rule (AKA – the second greatest commandment) trumps any parenting theories out there. Do you want someone to be angry at you for your failings, condescend to you in your ignorance, punish you unfairly without a clear understanding of why, speak to you as if you were stupid or unloved, or hit you when you’ve done something to upset them? Do you think those actions would help mold you into a better, more loving person?

~Daniel (AKA, the man who loves you from your head to your toes and adores all the delicious stops in between.)

People who are too optimistic for me love living in "La La Land" also known as (aka) Disney fairy tale movies. I don't trust people who don't live in reality. They keep forgetting their mistakes (it ain't fun to feel disappointed) and they continue to feel unreasonable hope that "next time" things will work out for them. I prefer hope based on realism. It has been said that depressed humans are the only realistic people living on planet earth. I was once a hard working optimist but now I am too sick, tired, disabled, and crabby to be hard working anymore. At the most I can be smart working but that is only due to holy spirit. I wasn't born disabled but other individuals made me permanently disabled from your point of view. Have a nice day!

I think I’m falling in love….

The secret to loving relationships is to never give more love than you have for yourself.

Love is like stocks, if you don't want to suffer loss quickly, you better diversify!

Many people have argued that love is the prerequisite to courage. I beg to differ. Anything we are afraid to lose will not give way to courage. Time guarantees we will all eventually lose everything and everyone. Therefore, courage can only come by having faith in God.

Kwa nini tuseme a.k.a na si k.k.k au k.n.k au k.a.k? Lazima tujifunze kuipenda na kuitetea lugha yetu kwa usumbufu wa vizazi vijavyo.

People I haven't seen in a while often comment on all the weight I've lost. I love telling them my secret: first and foremost, I eat lots of fat. Saturated fat, such as lard, butter, coconut oil, ghee, red palm oil, and olive oil.

The greatest gift in life is the gift of life.

Sometimes we take our love ones for granted that we forget to show them how much they meant to us until they’re gone. Sometimes we allow the negative energy from a few disputes we had with each other to conceal the many joys we had with one another and allow it to dictate our behaviors. But always remember that true love comes with no condition so show your love those who have always been there for you while they’re still alive because crying next to their caskets is meaningless if you never show them how much you love them.

Fuck u for saying I love u knowing u didn't mean what u said u when u know my uncle was dead telling people u broke up with me chatting on me with my bff knowing she a was wanting a boyfriend your a list to man kind making your gender look bad aka i dont have to say who u are u know u are OVER

Fuck u for saying I love u knowing u didn't mean what u said u when u know my uncle was dead telling people u broke up with me cheating on me with my bff knowing she a was wanting a boyfriend your a lier to man kind making your gender look bad aka i dont have to say who u are u know u are OVER

I am betrayed and played but right now im feeling nothing pain but to forgive, it's because I love God too much that I can't hate.

Spread love not hate, so that we can live and die in peace.

You have to look in the mirror and do one of two things; love or hate who you see. So, be good to yourself - it's all the esteem you have.

It is how we enter through the doorway that determines the outcome of our life.

Our emotional wombs, a.k.a the heart, should always give birth to, and be pregnant with only unconditional love.

A Moral Compass. Like it or not, we at SoulBoom are all in favor of figuring out what’s right and wrong. We would love to have a belief system that allowed followers to simply “do what feels right.” But a core moral code that doesn’t bend with the ups and downs of social trends is crucial. Here’s how ours will differ, though. We will establish a SoulBoom council of wise folks who peruse the divinely inspired universal moral codes that have been passed down for eons from both the Eastern (karmic) and Western (Abrahamic) faith traditions to decide, through long, loving, and frank consultation, the collective moral parameters for SoulBoomers. Your personal relationship with this new SoulBoom moral code will ultimately be between you, your conscience, and the Creative Cosmic Force (a.k.a. G.O.D.). That is, you won’t get kicked out for failing to follow the guidelines.

Remember, son, hunting is not for the fainthearted; a hunter never gets scared of blood or any animal, as he is an apex predator in the food web with heart and soul, loving the world and this taiga’. Around noon, he fixed me a quick lunch, and we waited for the bison hunt. For hours and hours, we waited for a lone bison when we spotted a herd of bison in Taiga.

My Remi is different. He’s lovable, a gentleman, and every woman’s dream man. He just needs a little push to see the love of his life. Aka me.” I smile despite myself. “You’re not going to give up, are you?” “Only after my ring is on his finger.” “Jesus. You’re thinking of marriage at eighteen?” “I’ve loved him since I was eleven. That’s seven years too late, if you ask me.

The curvaceous hairstylist, aka her, aka Zephyr de la Vega, aka the biggest idiot on the planet to ever imagine there could be a future with him when she wasn’t in love. But god, she’d been tired of being single at twenty-eight, with everyone telling her she should be with someone.

How long can we close our hearts to the despised and dispossessed? What are our slums, our penitentiaries, and our refugee camps if not a reflection of our own lovelessness?” from the novel Hotel Noir

In that book of yours, Emma, what happens to her?" he asked Naina as she looked over some paperwork they were about to submit to Naman's office. They were in Yash's apartment, a.k.a. their temporary office, working long after everyone else had left. She raised a brow at him, all the accusations she'd thrown at him---not entirely inaccurately---flashing guiltily in her eyes. "The one who tries to be a matchmaker so she can feel good about herself and fill her boredom?" She smiled, but there was an apology in her eyes. A hot apology. "She learns that having more privilege than other people doesn't mean you know what's best for them. She learns to admit her mistakes and listen to others, and it teaches her to listen to her own feelings too." He laughed. "And she finds the love of her life and they live happily ever after." He'd been joking, but her face said that was exactly what happened. "You're kidding me," he said. "And this is a book you liked?" Which, come to think of it, gave him great hope. "You're a romantic, Naina Kohli," he said, and got all up in her face. "You wish," she said, but she did kiss every last of breath out of him.

There are two ways to approach the role of new stepdad: You can go the friendly route—soft-pedal, build some trust. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to replace your dad. Or you can seize the opportunity to lead that totalitarian regime you’ve always dreamed of. I am your parent! You will respect me! Clyde opted for the latter. He immediately instated something he called Heavy Chore Day—aka, Saturday. Like Sunday Mass, attendance was mandatory but HCD lasted much longer. The whole family was up and working by 0800 and the workday lasted eight hours. Duties were segregated between men’s work (in the yard) and women’s work (in the house). If there were any holdover friends from a Friday night sleepover, they were welcome to stay, “but if you’re here, you need to contribute.” Our friends quickly learned to request early pickup times. Clyde’s vibe was all drill sergeant. “Police the lawn for anything that ain’t grass or dog shit. Shovel the dog shit. After you mow, edge the perimeter.” Half the jobs didn’t even make sense: “Move this pile of rocks to the other end of the yard. Dig a hole over here, cart the dirt in the wheelbarrow over there and make a dirt hill.

Mistakes and symptoms: Fishing for compliments. “I’m thinking of starting a business... so, do you think it will work?” “I had an awesome idea for an app — do you like it?” Exposing your ego (aka The Pathos Problem). “So here’s that top-secret project I quit my job for... what do you think?” “I can take it — be honest and tell me what you really think!” Being pitchy. “No no, I don’t think you get it...” “Yes, but it also does this!” Being too formal. “So, first off, thanks for agreeing to this interview. I just have a few questions for you and then I’ll let you get back to your day…” “On a scale of 1 to 5, how much would you say you…” “Let’s set up a meeting.” Being a learning bottleneck. “You just worry about the product. I’ll handle the customers.” “Because the customers told me so!” “I don’t have time to talk to people — I need to get back to coding!” Collecting compliments instead of facts and commitments. “We’re getting a lot of positive feedback.” “Everybody I’ve talked to loves the idea.

From an idea that would not just go away, to pages of ideas written at three in the morning, then trying to remember the ones that pop in your head in the most inconvenient places. No matter what style of writing a person may have I would say to anyone, if the effort is put forth to create literary works from the smallest to biggest ideas, I have the utmost respect for you all for it is a labor of hard work, tears and love." Isabelle Stewart

Platonic Relationships, aka Friendships One friend of ours drives us nuts by moaning, “I don’t have a relationship…just all these friends! ” We have news for him, and for you: friendship is a relationship, an important one that offers tremendous opportunities for the things we need most out of our relationships: intimacy, companionship, support in times of trouble, and more. We are amused by sluthood-skeptics who are appalled by the idea of loving more than one person…and who nonetheless have a best friend, someone with whom they share their deepest secrets, who may in fact be as important a part of their lives as their spouse or lover. If you have a lover and a best friend who are not the same person, you’re already practicing many of the skills of sluthood as you manage each of their needs for intimacy, time, and affection.

Fred Layman, (AKA The Club Doctor) is a veteran golf course and clubs in transition operations director/consultant. The Way I See It The Height of a Kite One sunny day, a mother and her son were outside flying a kite. The son loved watching the kite glide through the sky and cheered as it flew higher and higher. Eventually, the kite reached the end of its string and could not go any higher. After pleading with his mom to break the string, she finally agreed and cut the string to release the kite. Shortly after, a gust of wind made the kite spiral uncontrollably, and it crashed to the ground. As the son looked very sad and disappointed, the mother explained, “Just like the kite, we may reach a certain level in life and feel like things may be holding us back, such as friends, family, or rules. We feel the desire to become free from those strings, but it’s important to remember that those strings will help us remain stable and fly higher than we can without them.” Here’s the way I see it: Dan Pearce once said it best, “Who do you want to surround yourself with? People who can pull you up to their level of greatness? Or people who will happily pull you down to theirs?” Fred W. Layman III, USPTA Elite, Director of Operations The Windermere Club, is the president of an Augusta, GA based Club Consulting Company, Fred Layman Ventures.

I grew up in the 80s, a small-town girl with big dreams from a town called Pitt Meadows, just outside of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. I come from a humble home, where it was common to hear, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Which is code for, “don’t say anything unless it’s something agreeable.” AKA, “don’t stir the pot!” Just a mild form of dysfunction for a highly sensitive girl like me. I learned to keep my thoughts inside, as it might not be the popular opinion. My parents were married in 1967, still in love today, which says a lot these days. I was raised, middle class, at a time when technology was in the infant stage. We received our news from television and the newspapers. We had our adventures outside in nature, riding bikes and daily trips to the store where you could buy 1 cent candy still, wearing seat belts wasn’t mandatory and smoking anywhere was considered normal. We had telephones with cords attached to the wall. If we wanted to talk to our friends, we dialled and they answered, without checking to see who was calling first.

I pray for a Merry Christmas. This is a time to remind us of the love we should be giving all year long.

That was just one of many weird things we have done. Even weirder to me than that, was the fact that we all talked about- like how it would be for one of us to die… if we would. Sex, drinking, and death were the main topics most nights. Yet that nightfall I do not remember how it came up in the conversations, other than Kenneth complaining that I got to sit in the front seat- aka ‘shotgun’ with Jenny after the party I guess I was where he thought he should be, and you know that wearing a seatbelt is for pussies. I do remember us talking about what a bucket let would be, yet to me, I thought mine was almost complete. The rap music was so loud, that we were yelling at one other just to overhear. Jenny kept going through her I-phone to change the song and text her other friends and boys, her phone was in her right hand in her lap. One reason I sat there is that- I was the one that was meant to pick the music so she could drive. I remember hearing the lyric- ‘To the window to the walls…’ the song was ‘Get Low!’ However, Jenny was so high, and Maddie was singing in the back to the words making her hands go in-between the front seats, and that was comical because she is as white as they come. I remember that is when we started shouting our theory on death and the afterlife, or if there is one. I thought there was… yet I was not sure. We were all gathering what those would be. Jenny was bitching about how it could be and going to be, in the ground, and like her beautiful body is going to be eaten away overtime in her sealed casket. That made my skin crawl. We were all like you’re going to die you’re not going to feel anything dumb ass. Then Maddie said my dying wish is to hook up with Lizzy, Sam, and others all at the same time and never stop. Hey, why not they were both very sexy hot girls. I could see that fantasy of doing it until death. I was a little pissed that I was not one of the girls in that scenario but it's her death wish not mine. Yet this is kind of surprising to me because Maddie was never that way at all. Like she has a boyfriend of two years. However, their love life was always on again and off again. The makeup hookups are all that kept them together… I think...? (#- Hashtag: Wcw- Women crush Wednesday)

Beep, Beep, Buzz, Buzz My day begins with Jenny aka (Jenna) Talya- laying on the horn in her black 2003 ford focus with the paint peeling on the hood. And reading a text from my bestie Jenny saying- ‘Don’t forget b*tches, it's love-o-grams day!’ My mom yells out the door every day not to do that, yet it goes in one ear and out the other with Jenny. Jenny does what Jenny wants to do. Yet that horn has a way of like going through you… you know. Especially at five- fifty-five every single morning. ‘Hurry the hell up, I am not getting any younger over here!’ She yells out the window of the SUV. And my mom yells about that too, ‘stop cursing!’ Then I say something like ‘Keep your pants on… I am coming! I am ‘Cumming!’’ As the nosey neighbor lady peps- out one of the slats of their window blind at us. It always seems to be I am running to get where I am going, even from house door to car door. Most of the time passing up that one book up on the floor, which you need for class on the way out without thinking, in such a rush. I didn't even put on Ray's letterman jacket he gave me to wear, I balled it up in my arms. Just like my purse and backpack zippers were somewhat open, that was just a horn in my one right shoulder. Right before that my darling pain in the ass little sister Kellie, who is ten years old. She grabs one of my bookable handles and tugs me back off my footing. WHAT- is it! I spun around looking like a demon child just snarling at her. She said crying. I just wanted to hug you, Karly. And I said- forget it… I am late now, and can’t you see I am texting my ‘BF! -Boyfriend’ So stop wasting my time little girl. (No- I know I am not a very nice person. I know that now! Yet I did think! I thought I was going to see her letter that night. I would give anything to have going back and hugged her that last time… that day.) It seemed that I was always too busy to spend any time with her. As a teen girl, like I said. My time was mostly spent on boys- well mostly Ray, talking and getting together, and partying to be popular. I thought that was what living a good life was all about. It’s just as if she always picked the worst times to try to bother me. Um- I’m not perfect, and there is only some much time in the day to play, and she wanted to play all the time. Though, I can see her turning into a little me. I was the one she looked up to. Mom was certainly trying to get her some help for her impulsiveness; we all think she has ADHD or something for how clinging she is. She is mom and dad’s favorite though I feel that girl is not what I would call under-loved that’s for sure. Yet mom and dad don’t see anything wrong with her having all that energy, and to be like running around, sucking down the soda, and cramming down the junk food. She is picked on to like me; I was before I fell into Jenny's hand of friends. I hope she can do the same. All at the same time I hope she doesn’t, I don’t want to see her fall into the wrong as I did.

When I was growing up, the taste of pancakes meant the kind that my great-uncle made for me from Bisquick. If condensed cream of mushroom soup was the Great Assimilator, then this "instant" baking mix was the American Dream. With it, we could do anything. Biscuits, waffles, coffee cakes, muffins, dumplings, and the list continues to grow even now in a brightly lit test kitchen full of optimism. My great-uncle used Bisquick for only one purpose, which was to make pancakes, but he liked knowing that the possibilities, the sweet and the savory, were all in that cheery yellow box. Baby Harper wasn't a fat man, but he ate like a fat man. His idea of an afternoon snack was a stack of pancakes, piled three high. After dancing together, Baby Harper and I would go into his kitchen, where he would make the dream happen. He ate his pancakes with butter and Log Cabin syrup, and I ate my one pancake plain, each bite a fluffy amalgam of dried milk and vanillin. A chemical stand-in for vanilla extract, vanillin was the cheap perfume of all the instant, industrialized baked goods of my childhood. I recognized its signature note in all the cookies that DeAnne brought home from the supermarket: Nilla Wafers, Chips Ahoy!, Lorna Doones. I loved them all. They belonged, it seemed to me, to the same family, baked by the same faceless mother or grandmother in the back of our local Piggly Wiggly supermarket. The first time that I tasted pancakes made from scratch was in 1990, when Leo, a.k.a. the parsnip, made them for me. We had just begun dating, and homemade pancakes was the ace up his sleeve. He shook buttermilk. He melted butter. He grated lemon zest. There was even a spoonful of pure vanilla extract. I couldn't bring myself to call what he made for us "pancakes." There were no similarities between those delicate disks and what my great-uncle and I had shared so often in the middle of the afternoon.