Wherever a child dreams, wherever a ball rolls, wherever motion can be art, Messi is there, for all eternity.
Messi está, donde un niño sueñe, donde un balón ruede, donde el movimiento sea arte, ahí está Messi, por toda la eternidad.
Wherever a child dreams, wherever a ball rolls, wherever motion can be art, Messi is there, for all eternity.
Messi está, donde un niño sueñe, donde un balón ruede, donde el movimiento sea arte, ahí está Messi, por toda la eternidad.
La fortuna de estar hoy.
De tener ojos para ver.
Ver al más grande de todos los tiempos.
Por enésima vez, por la eternidad, dos palabras que he escrito innumerables veces en este siglo:
MESSI CAMPEÓN
Este es D10S, y existe el MESSIas
Thinkin' about that time when a high school friend decided she fell in love with me... 20-something years later.
I told her... I was solo polyamorous, had no plans for long-term romance, would play by my rules. She said yes, and I let myself fall for her, head over heels.
But she was afraid. And she wouldn't conquer her fear, and she listened to her...
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I solved a problem! WHEEEEEEEE!
It was the last, stubborn 5% of my life that had resisted for 40+ years, and the only part of my life that hadn't reset, solved itself or changed like all the other parts; in fact, it went radically opposite the rest, and instead of getting better (to a degree my young, depressed self would have never believed) it went...
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Well, the NRO and its graphics people just made a mission patch for me... given my current status as a quite fat pilot with a Resting Bastard Face, it's almost as if they designed the mission patch for NROL-111 with me in mind...
I was born on a Saturday. This year my birthday also fell on a Saturday, but it shouldn't have.
The normal Julian calendar with its 7-day weeks ensured that every 7 years, the weekdays would coincide. However, Julius Caesar made a little mistake: The year was not 365.25 days long, but a little less. And so, in the long centuries that passed, the calendar was...
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“I always tell the men, ‘Go look in the mirror. No beautiful woman, attractive woman, goes up to 50-year-old men,’” said one State Department official.
Sometimes, it still feels unreal.
I am there, at home between the ground and the nothingness, hearing the sweet music of engine, propeller and wind, feeling the soft strains of the airplane making her way and keeping that fragile equilibrium of four forces, completely at peace... and the wonder comes in, and the strangeness of reality, a reality that still has the elements of a...
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Here he is, where he longed to be; home is the sailor, home from the seas, and the hunter, home from the hills.
My hearth, surrounded by metal walls, suspended from a wing between rock and the immeasurable nothingness, in communion with the machine, enjoying the uncanny reality of the first dream of humanity, for as long as humans have trod the Earth.
We tread
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After almost a year, I could finally go flying. And it was a very special flight for me...
250 hours. 250 more than everyone said I was going to have. I finally put the first big number behind me, and now only money stands between me and that commercial license... of course it's a lot of money, but it's the least of obstacles now, and...
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