writesomethingsooms wordpress.com

Write Something, Sooms! engaging with the internet world to reflect, learn, grow, and change.

-- engaging with the internet world to reflect, learn, grow, and change.

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bleuemoon i write about despair, anxiety, frozen yogurt, red sox, philosophy, theology, family, religion, love, life in nyc as a bostonian! ;

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Grant me, Lord, to know and understand which is first, to call on Thee or to praise Thee? Ps after p.

the steak is ra. Just another WordPress.com weblog

RIP Reverend Ha Yong-jo, founder of Onnuri Church. Read Korea Joongang Daily article here. He was indeed a pioneer in the Korean church, and was a catalyst for global missions. What many people of my generation take for granted, myself included, is the simpl.

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Write Something, Sooms! engaging with the internet world to reflect, learn, grow, and change.

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-- engaging with the internet world to reflect, learn, grow, and change.

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Aaloka Emma - DeviantArt

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BLEU en BLEU

A COLLABORATION PROJECT BY ARTISTS SUSAN COOLEN, LOREN WILLIAMS and PATTY ZUVER. Is a group project initiated by artists. Susan Coolen, Loren Williams and Patty Zuver. It begins as an exhibition proposal but will also include. A catalogue and a special portfolio of selected works. Inspired by the photographic documentation of naturalist. And by the initial themes of. Museums, collections, and collectors, these artists have.

UN ESPRIT SAIN DANS UN CORSAGE Le blog avec des hauts et des bas de soi e

UN ESPRIT SAIN DANS UN CORSAGE. UN ESPRIT SAIN DANS UN CORSAGE.

LO Juste moi

Ma plus belle histoire d amour, c est vous. A Cathy, qui me manque, à. Il faudra bien que je retrouve ma raison. Mon insouciance et mes élans de joie. Que je parte à jamais pour échapper à toi. Et pourtant, et pourtant.

Au pays de Nomo Il ny a pas de honte à préférer le bonheur A. Camus

Au royaume des chercheurs de lumière. Au royaume des chercheurs de lumière. Passaient passaient des ombres passagères. Je caressais chaque nuit le vol de leurs lucioles. Et sous mon miroir ensoleillé, leur tournesol. Leurs reflets brillants et secrets, ces pièges assassins. Faisaient pousser dans mon jardin. Des stigmates porteurs de chagrin. Et leurs promesses trop vite amères.