Gom Player Laptop To Tv

past few days (or complex enough to live better by addressing remaining alive) I found myself daydreaming every now and then.
I wish I were a pediatrician I chased my son phone as I would not even with Christian Bale if I had the number .
Or the electrician who told us to unscrew the bulb and the recall following week.
or technician of the boiler that we begged for weeks to come and take these 100 € for the annual inspection.
I wish I were one of those people who never suffers from the neglect syndrome professional. Instead
who writes stories is always there to propose or to justify or protect them. Often the defense, never attack. They know that writers do not even turn off the phone the night. You never know who the producer, caught by insomnia, be dazzled by our idea . We must be ready.

The "how I want to be" brought me back to memory a poem studied in high school.

S ' i 'was fire, arderei' the world;
s' i 'was wind, storms;
s' i' were water, the 'drowning,
s' i' was God, mandereil 'en deep
s' i' was Pope, 'then happy days,
For all of' Christians Imbrighi;
s' i 'was' mperator, you know' what to do?
all round to cut off the head.
S 'i' was dead, andarei by my father;
s' i 'was life, flee from him:
faria similar to me' mother.
S 'i' was Cecco, with 'i' is and was, I
torreo women young and fair,
and old and ugly Lassere others.
(Cecco Angiolieri 13-14th century)


I read it, I smile and think that the boiler is important, but the words also.