Baseado no livro best-seller do mestre contador de histórias Nicholas Sparks, este drama romântico conta a história de amor de Luke, um ex campeão de. Discover ideas about Nicholas Sparks. Sophia and Bo. Nicholas SparksHoney LivrosI Love. More information. Saved by. bemmy temmy. 0. Aug 26, Primeiros trailer e pôster de Uma Longa Jornada, adaptação do livro de Nicholas Sparks – Notícias –
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Look at our life, at the trips we took, the adventures we had.
As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you.
Today, I saw so much pain and vulnerability. I saw the human condition trapped in glossy sheets of paper and golden frames. Bleeding through broken paint on a white dress. Souls trapped in the wings of a Phoenix.
I saw vibrant expression and pale indifference.
Escolha a Capa de Uma Longa Jornada próximo livro de Nicholas Sparks
The swirling intricacies of the human mind battling against the harsh strokes of those jonrada. Today, I saw history through the eyes of the world and it was beautiful. Last night I had a dream that a creature crawled in through my window.
It was an unseasonably hot night and the heat had made me sleepier than I would normally have been.
Uma Longa Jornada
Due to my drowsiness I left the window above my bed wide open, a combination of not having my wits about me as well as hoping some cool air would circulate around my room. Unfortunately not much air managed to make it into my room but it felt as if something else did. Some time during the night I awoke in a hot fluster, sweat sticking my bed sheets to my skin. I thought it was the heat that woke me but a small amount of pressure upon my legs lead me to look down and believe otherwise.
I soon realised I must be dreaming and quickly let my head fall back, closing my eyes and hoping to will myself awake or at the very least into another dream. It took me too long to realise the jerky movements were slowly moving higher and higher up my legs. I was paralysed, unable to move anything other than my eye lids and they were the one thing I wanted to stay in place.
Shiny black orbs stared back at me, reflecting my own fear and amplifying it. The thing reared back with a screech before throwing itself down at me and vanishing. Exhaustion suddenly swarmed me and I fell out of the dream, opening my eyes to morning light. I know it was only a dream. Constantly and cautiously looking over my shoulder only to see nothing. Only able to catch something out of the corner of my eye that seems to be moving closer each time.
I know it was a dream but I swear if I look in the mirror I can see those shiny black eyes watching me. I turned over in my bed last night, frightened after a nightmare, to seek comfort in the arms of my husband. Some time early in the morning I woke up again when I felt him shifting to remove himself from my arms. It was around I was thinking we could go out for breakfast? You know I work overnight on Tuesdays, baby. The pause came from my end of the line this time, only broken by the clatter of my phone onto the wooden floor.
Log in Sign up. Most recent Most popular Most recent. Filter by post type All posts. Grid View List View. Our first natural reaction Is to raise our voices. Before words, Before knowledge, We scream. We scream To let people know we are here, To let people know we need to be cared for. Yet are we taught how to scream louder?
To be heard further? They teach us words we can hide behind; Pleasantries so we do not offend. They place us As winding cogs Inside the machine we are supposed to rage against. Knock, Knock October 1st Knock, knock. But no answer comes Knock, knock. Just the wind that hums. The long corridor echoes. No silhouette at the door. The sound is not outside anymore. I lift my closed fist to my chest. And rap three times on my breast.
One last hard wack. Wait for a moment and then something knocks back. Numb The tears escape and I feel numb. The laughter peels and I feel numb. My heart swells and I feel numb. I drink and I feel numb. I smoke and I feel numb. I write and I feel numb. Pain invades and I feel numb. Something breaks and I feel numb. You smile…and for a moment something stirs.
You push, I pull Further away. You push, I pull You closer back to me. You push, I pull Away from my sanity. You push, I pull My walls closer around me. You push, I pull Back from who I am.
I pull, You push The rest of them away. I pull, You push What you want over what I need. I pull, You push Me against the wall.
I pull, You push Me closer to the edge. One, two… The countdown begins. Three, four… Have you hidden all of your sins? Nine, ten… Your heart beats so loud Eleven, twelve… It could be heard in the largest crowd. Thirteen, fourteen… Have you found your place?
Fifteen, sixteen… Where you can keep everything, even your face Seventeen, eighteen… Hidden, leaving not even a crumb Nineteen, twenty… Because ready or not, here I come. Eventually, all will come to an end No matter how bravely we defend The small lives to us that mean so much But to greater beings are such Fleeting moments in a stagnant time.
More so than even the few nocholas you were mine. You would breathe into the night And the sun would rise just to feel the light Caress of a love so sweet It was the only thing that kept me from the clutches of defeat. It felt pointless knowing the darkness spatks come to claim each day. Without you I lost my way and almost gave up the fight Until I realised there would be an end to this night.
Two Sentences Horror Story October 5th. The mocking, The sickening, The reckoning Comes for us all. Judge me, Forgive me. Understand I gave it my all. Becoming the martyr; Unforgiven. The one destined to fall. Swaying sparkw But never showing The features of your face Must be truly terrifying For shadow to be your home And further verifying The paralysing fear That runs through me Whenever you are near.
A tear escapes As I silently weep. Please go away, Shadow Man I want to go to sleep. A plethora of people from young to old, The only connection: A long table is laden with treats.
Desserts, cheeses and all sorts of meats. But something is wrong, niicholas all is well As olnga through the room is an lona smell. It comes not from the table where the guests devour Their meal that comes at an ungodly hour But it is the only time they can eat, Without getting caught, the unusual taste of human meat.
The smell comes from where the uncooked bodies lie, Waiting to be turned into a finger sandwich or pie. Even when the sun hogs the day And the moon broods through the night They are able to share Twice a year That perhaps they are not so different after all.