MonthOctober 2012

Fiji Islands

The number one is consequence of the little interest of the person who read or attended the self-help in making the changes necessary in her life to achieve the objectives. Clearly, making the reservation of those authors or lecturers who are a deceit. In number two, the case is exactly the same, I listen, I later am touched by hours and remainder everything what I learned because gives flojera me, and in much opportunities, fear to apply it life. Result, a frustrated person who criticism to the authors who provide an excellent information and, secondly, authors of self-help with banacarias but great accounts every day. And I ask to them: this is fault of the self-help authors, or of the consumers of these materials that are satisfied to two hours of happiness and do not wish to be happy by always? They never forget: The learned information and/or herrmientas must be applied with discipline to obtain results, of that consists the self-help . nobody is going to help to them, can only be helped you yourself. For that reason always me river, of the ironic commentary of my teacher Wayne Dyer, when in his char them, it raises his two hands towards the attending public in gratefulness signal and it says to them: I have a house in the Fiji Islands, where I write. Irony of the teacher: gentlemen (ace), the SELF-HELP DOES NOT SERVE Don’t mention it, IF YOU DO NOT HELP YOURSELVES Itself, BUT ALWAYS IS NECESSARY the INFORMATION THAT OF the TOOLS TO HELP US US.

The Reason

The luck never was to your side From very young dresses to you desolate. It is perhaps the experience, the lack and the experience Fault, or reason, shows fault in the coexistence Or it is also the reflected image, Beside the point very even The one that to look like as much Imitating waves, that in the border of the sea they are Per time and by separated they walk in parallel and soon after, arrivals to the border, Without knowing have been. Decirte things, I would want But not yet I have found the way wished the form nor the way. We confuse respect, With obedience, Word already in disuse, When existing the coexistence We measured in mistaken form, Opinion with the reason. But, which wise person got to be right Or dictator wished Without with one each side, To people allowed to a sincere smile and an honest opinion Ideologies, languages, languages or geographies Each the same separates of its pride and imitating to cocoons they abren his sacred petals to absorb of the sun, all gilded rays. Again I reason when writing, that what I want I can That what I feel I do not show and that yet my seriousness I have not been, neither I am able Of agredirte with my Decirte mouth palabrotas, Nor to hurt your feelings Because after all, Is love which by you I feel. I know that I have not expressed myself, Perhaps things, have remained of side That is difficult to say to me thus, to first, Which to sincere way You wanted to have heard. But it tries to understand, Father dear Not yet I have been able to find way, or way to say, which wanted Without you already felt like victim, who that is not my intention Nor the reason that calls to me and drives that me in this plot To mostrarte what I feel What fodder and what I am and to say to four winds, Without I have left nothing By you on the inside I am a Akinn, and here am My mother I recognize in her was a woman privileged, from girl and until now to his eighty years of age she maintains aporcelanizada a Egeria beauty, would seem the time does not happen through her.

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