Cannibalism and other expedients.
Comparative Constitutional Law.
I had the bad idea to use recordings of lessons to study. He makes sense, when a teacher who loves his subject has to take a course from 6 credits to the faculty of law and therefore not tries to squeeze in 40 hours what would close in 60. The proceedings in these cases is simple: the terminology 4dummies is fucked up because a technical term is five layman's terms, thus saving time.
The idea is bad because this method takes me a long time and makes me realize how many things I had not caught, dropped to a certain anxiety.
(Why suffer daily from anxiety becere Lexotan purse when you can live with a constant performance anxiety?)
But this stuff makes me feel at ease.
The case is an excellent compromise between speculation and moralizing practice, at least at certain levels. It is this ambiguity in place (I can speculate merging the brain without feeling overly radical chic ), to make me love and hate. But I've already said. I
time - as I want when I studied international law - to analyze every single Constitution. I find it so, again, hitting her head against two great certainties, or rather against the wall, well-polished forming: my love for the subject and my refusal to study it pure. Enroll in the faculty of law in Italy means bound to Italy - I was confronted with this speech with a Russian girl in Kiel, a lawyer, who had begun to take their exams in Erasmus that nothing would be served in Russia. I have pointed out that probably wanted to move to Germany. He nodded.
Mah
Hurricane of 30 Seconds to Mars was written in Berlin. I'm a genius.
I got to say I could go to a doctor for my relationship with food running out. We are at the stage where I have gone hungry after 5 bites, and it's really annoying. Annoying . It is similar to the feeling you get when you can not come and the body sweats more to the frustration that the physical effort.
(By contrast, in fact, I developed an aggressive desire to have sex - or the desire for aggressive purposes?)
Nevertheless, I will wait first to see what happens to my back to life - that is, when I'll start to leave the house. The problematic part is that, because my picky to be random with respect to different foods means that when I go into a bar I seek food more embittered neutral - and here lies the question: "What the fuck is a food neutral? " I do not know. I would be happy to eat tasteless food, so I could not feel the flavor of the cheese mold, the death of the flesh, that of forced conservation of bread.
The taste of meat is a corpse of my old leitmotif, the one for which I am just repeating creatures that eat their throats cut. (I'm the kind of person who is horrified when someone says that meat cooked in this way and that to remove the strong flavor of wild - "No! Are you crazy?" - To say nothing of those fools who dare to cook salmon, tuna and other fish.) Perhaps I'm not doing nothing but follow the path described in many works of fiction , the transformation from human to semi-psychic cannibal creature - in other words , sbranerò your flesh and button, which will not know about death or preservatives or mildew.
Volunteers?
In this second (or third? Or fourth? Damned compilations) phase of my conflicted relationship with food I am at that stage of disillusionment that makes me move directly from hunger. I there are different levels of attraction of food, with one end that is to eat treats even when you are full to the other, so what you eat when your stomach growls, with a range of shades in between. I tend more toward the second end, and without effort, in fact, I tried the other way, but simply my stomach growls more rarely than before. In short, I feel like I'm de-sexualized, and at this point I could take it in two ways: positively, telling me that I was blessed to get to the saints, or negatively, giving me the frigid food. It is still the same human dilemma, temporaleVSspirituale, symbolic grab vital force on the one hand, and abstention sanctifying each other.
One of the worst parts of the business you're obviously, contemporary oh, that when I eat like a canary-voiced envy, and I envy you your wish of a paper plate at random. I'll
kidnapped, probably, and horrific experiments will be made on myself to get the secret, which will be called The Secret, and what will enable the next generation of weight loss due to lack of hunger. I will be surrounded by birds of prey that unscrupulous doctors Freudian analyze my past in search of the case, injecting illegal drugs and everything will end old fashion, with me tied to a bed and doses of electroshock - the latter part is due to VB and its studies for the Criminology Museum in Rome, which acts as a guide.
The place is nice in that it is a museum of itself in that it has been set up eons ago and since then no longer be changed. We still breathe the theories of Lombroso believed, the search for the gene of crime analysis démodé the physiognomy of a person looking for those signs that identify it as criminal. Obviously this takes place one of his cruel charm if you must be accompanied by Foucault and Genet - for this, advertising, I suggest you go with VB as a guide, not least because the poor will be seriously damaged mentally to study all those atrocities.
And then, if you wait a bit ', there you will find me in the window "the cannibal of Lombard."
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