Standard - Estándar

Well, standard is dimensions, products, social image; your personality.

Pues en lo estándar entran medidas, productos, imagen social; tu personalidad.

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Entradas populares de este blog

The Ostrich

A man walks into a restaurant with a full-grown ostrich behind him. The waitress asks them for their orders. The man says, "A hamburger, fries and a coke," and turns to the ostrich, "What's yours?" "I'll have the same," says the ostrich. A short time later the waitress returns with the order. "That will be $9.40 please." The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change for payment. The next day, the man and the ostrich come again and the man says, "A hamburger, fries and a coke." The ostrich says, "I'll have the same." Again the man reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change. This becomes routine until the two enter again. "The usual asks the waitress?" "No, this is F...

Freedom

Once upon a time, there was this little girl; she had blue hair and white eyes. People just called her The Girl. She loved to pour water over a big ants farm. Almost all the ants hated when this happen, except one young ant called Freedom. He loved to ride the waves created by the pouring water of The Girl. All the friends of Freedom told him that this was pretty dangerous, that he was too impulsive and needed to stop doing it before it was too late. The time passed by and Freedom disappeared from the farm. His friends started a search. One day, freedom’s girlfriend went to his favorite place to ride, hoping to find her boy. She saw a old ant sitting down in a rock and asked him if he know something about Freedom. He told her “There was once an ant called Freedom that became unstuck in the world. He took the wind for a map. He took the sky for a clock and set off with no destination. He was never lost.” They never look for him anymore.

Andrea Gibson - Asking too much

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you wouldn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word home means to you And tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bedroom when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how the tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep besides them when the...

Expect nothing and appreciate everything.

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