you're making me hungry. please don't tell me your namesake is technology-related 'cause I might have to hurt you. the only good use I've seen for a blackberry was by a deaf girl on a train. I wish I understood sign language, it's so beautiful.
apparently, I know enough of the language for someone to think I'm fluent but then I get lost in wonder and amazement - and lack of hand-eye co-ordination - but they go on, how do you tell them you don't understand?
sometimes I wish I could talk without making noise. deaf people have that benefit, they can talk to someone 5 feet away and they don't have to yell but they have to pay real close attention. in a way, I'm glad I can understand words and sounds without opening my eyes. those whispers in the night from the one you love are the things worth living for.
our hands are truly amazing things, could you imagine the world without your sense of touch? without the ability to reach out and touch someone? we'd all be walking around as if life was one big china shop; that would be one sad existence.
I must go now... if you're named after an actual blackberry please ignore this letter of ramblings and return to your regularly-scheduled life but know that you're making me hungry.
with love from
a fellow citizen of this crazy world,
Daniela.
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
Sherlyn Powell opens up about her love and devotion to her family and the overwhelming repercussion when communication breaks down. Heartbroken and distraught she learns to release her prayer and realize with faith God would reunite her family.
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