It 's the first year, nay, 2.
I fell asleep at ten and a half in front of a little film and then I woke up at eleven. I decided that I wanted to read and I realized only now that the hours are. It is not so strange for me, but tonight I am feeling, being here with the firm throws him to seek the right word .
That the right word is an obsession of translators and perhaps (but who knows if it comes before the chicken or the egg) is also a way of looking at things and see. The feeling you have on the tip of the tongue that one adjective that perfectly describes that moment, that precise, unique state of mind or the deep sense that the phrase you would like to play.
guess - I guess only because I do not really dare to try - it's an experience similar to that of the writer and I think it That's why I do steal from those who are capable of accuracy and balance in telling a story. And while I think of many times that what I said was not clear what I wanted or maybe was too hard or too weak.
I would like to correct this inadequacy, in 2011, at least a little. The impression that things belong only to you just because you have not been able to describe the best way. That little frustrating to think that what you feel inside is no relief for lack of verbs. And I would also try more often that sense of exhilaration of the right word when you came to the lips or exits from the tip of the pencil almost naturally, without effort, because it was there, simple and clear and ready to be collected
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