- Relaxation of zoning laws
- Investment in rail.
- Approaching the development of poorer neighbourhoods as gradual and in-situ in nature.
- Using data to plan resources and manage the ageing population.
Upon a mailbox
I did stumble
And all that I wished
Was to leave a message
Perfect, like they were.
This is what I left:
I want to leave a message
Something Beautiful
And touching
Yet witty
And humorous
Intelligent
But not pretentious...
I guess this will work
I love you.
That is all.
Originally, the puruṣārthas are only three-dharma, artha, and kāma. Mokṣa is left completely up to the individual. Dharma is more concerned with the business of living, and less about mokṣa, unlike popular belief.
“…………The one who seeks mokṣa is beyond the stages of life and outside society, and his conduct does not fall within the scope of the dharma śāstras.”
Polyphony is a characteristic of Western music.
It began when singers started improvising with parallel melodies, with emphasis on fourth (ex. C to F) and fifth (ex. C to G) intervals." target="_blank" class="inline-link">https://www.liveabout.com/... This marked the start of polyphony wherein several musical lines were combined.
As singers continued experimenting with melodies, polyphony became more elaborate and complex.
Open me like a book, read my introductory, read my words carefully and not guess on what i mean. Turn my pages slowly, let my words flow out into your mind slowly.
Take in my words, think about them. Don't automatically think that i make no sense, take the time to sit down rewind the time u opened me up and took a look at my pages, read what i have inside, its quite a ride.
Think about me when you tell someone how u feel, let them know whats real. Don't let them steal your heart, keep it on a short leash, and wait to release at the right moment on the right person.
If your not carefully u could lose you mind finding your lost heart in the dark. People will put you through a lot. Read my words carefully, let them flow into your mind.
Lovers may cause you pain,but its only rain, the storm will never hit dry land, just keep it in the distance. Read me like a book, take a deeper look.
a large stone building with a clock on it's side
https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1654530572023-226d4c154b7a?fm=jpg&fit=crop&w=600&q=80&fit=max
As LACMA Prepares to Unveil $720 Million Building, Employees Unionize
Staffers at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art on October 29 announced their intention to unionize under the auspices of AFSCME Cultural Workers United District Council 36.
https://t.co/ldMSO4YpUJhttps://t.co/YHyChmHFW2 https://t.co/Y7CIcEMw0g
Homer's Iliad opens with a plague visited upon the Greek camp at Troy. The Decameron (1353) by Giovanni Boccaccio is set during the Black Death.
The stories offer the listeners ways to consider how similar crises have been managed previously, and how to reorganize their daily lives, which have been suspended due to the epidemic.
We spend all day staring at screens, read books on Kindles or iPads, and come home to relax by watching a movie or TV.
Digital technologies lump together the good with the bad.
grayscale photo of woman in black coat smiling
https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604700378256-c55e5e7d8f03?fm=jpg&fit=crop&w=600&q=80&fit=max
I'm about to give up on people.
Them and all their bullshit.
I want to crawl back in my hole.
Where the solitude is peaceful.
I'd be better off without them.
They wouldn't be able to hurt me.
I want a darkness to surround me.
I'll soak up all it's wonders.
I don't exist to them.
I'm just a figment of their imaginations.
I exist only in my head.
Only here I am safe.
They constantly ignore me.
Though I try to be their friend.
I want the darkness to take me.
Here, I can't be hurt.
I want to give up on people.
All the heartache they cause.
I want to live in my mind.
Alone, dark, and safe is all I want.
, genre: portrait, style: Metaphysical art, Classical Realism.
https://uploads7.wikiart.org/00319/images/antonio-bueno/antonio-bueno-1918-1985-catherine-la-rose-8.jpgGlistening streams silently fall,
Upon broken shards of suffering.
The glass shards pierce my fragile mind,
And blood drips down my quavering hands.
My cries are so silent but shrill,
Yet no one detects my misery.
I beg and plead for someone’s help,
But they all ignore my eerie sobs.
Nothing but the rain touches me;
It can only wash the blood away;
I will always feel this damned pain.
But I will mask it with some façade.
Don’t worry about me right now,
These tears will dry and I’ll be okay.
It’s just another mental fight,
And it will all end soon enough.
I never imagined my darkest hour
to be this dark
I'm consumed in this hole
connecting my heart with my mind
combining the eyes of Horus
searching for the reason
my days are so drab
https://t.co/WOlt2deT0q
Led by $65.5 M. Monet Painting, Sotheby’s $309 M. Modern Art Sales Kick Off November Auctions in...
Works by Edgar Degas, Wassily Kandinsky, Leonora Carrington, Picasso and Tiffany Studios did well, especially the ones owned by Sydell Miller.
https://t.co/WOlt2deT0qIt doesn't work like a check-list: You can't check each item off, get to be happy and old for a couple of decades, then you die. Problems don’t go away, they change and evolve. And accepting life's imperfection is hard because it forces us to accept that we have to live with things we don’t like.
Mmmm - I feel good….
With a ‘Breath of fresh Ayr’
To start your day,
And 'Honest Men'
Along the way,
'Bonnie Lasses'
To help you stay,
Aye, Ayr’s the place,
To be today…
© ali-p 2003