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¡! Apúntate a nuestro y descubre la poética del cuerpo a partir de la técnica del aplicada al clásico. JUE 28 FEB, 17 a 21h en sala . Inscripción 👉formacion@exlimite.com Precio 👉40€







"In your heart: That’s where your stories live." - Mark David Gerson










It's not too late to book for ! Coming up really soon! We are really looking forward to touring our interactive workshops. Book now:







Ayer tuvimos las ultima sesión en el centro de teatro en la escuela. El arte de contar historias en con el alumnado de 2 ESO de . El próximo día en










Great day yesterday filming for a few upcoming events. Georgia’s a natural in front of the camera takes after , I prefer being behind it!







Tick-tock it’s the story clock! Join me today at the for Time for Bed . Favourite fairy tales, knights, dragons and lots more! Looking forward to hearing more great story ideas from the children! 🕰🌙🛏💫




For the first time ever we have a media club at Mangere College! 'MC Media' check out their stories on our @mcmediaclub Facebook page. Also FOLLOW US to hear more stories. Changing the narrative!




Learn How To Create a Compelling Story For Your Business: OnlineMarketing




Orso laboratorio caffè ha per logo una sciamana - donna con maschera d'orso. Il caffè è un'esperienza e si deve apprendere.




The power of metafor in storytelling. Using examples from popular movies shared insights into psychological principles which form key dynamics for resonant stories. So very interesting last week







Whether you're a designer, a filmmaker or a writer, all communicators must resort to symbolism to communicate a message. 👩‍🏫👨‍💻 To help you create meaningful content, here are 40 symbols all storytellers should know.

Butterfly symbol



Di cosa scriviamo quando scriviamo per : Come raccontare prodotti e servizi con le parole giuste. 👉



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Daniel Bryan is giving a speech. Rowan is helping correct some of the less accurate information that Daniel Bryan is relaying. Daniel Bryan appreciates the fact checking, but thinks it may be a better idea to do so before the speech rather than during. 

“What you’re tapping into is the only superpower that human beings really have,” Todd said on the podcast. “The only thing that truly separates us on this planet from other animals is our creative imagination, our ability to tell stories in our own head, to build narrative, to create heavens from hell or hell from heaven. We have that capacity more than anyone or anything else.”


James Altucher

Let Go

Sometimes the only way to be at rest

Is to watch the memories burn

Assure yourself the pain is for the best

And that old heartbreak won’t return

To pause the songs to endlessly play

To swallow your pride like coal

Block the memories, just for today

Don’t tell anyone, not a soul

Story Time

So, here’s the story about how I lost a girlfriend while in the military.

This was summer of 2011. I had been going to drill about an hour and a half from my hometown for a while. I knew that I would be shipped out September 6th, 3 days after my birthday.

After having the conversation in my head time and time again, I finally tell her that I’m leaving. She was hurt by the news which I kinda expected. I miscalculated the length of time that I would be gone. I asked her if she would wait for me and she said, “yea, I’ll be here waiting when you get back”.

September’s here. I celebrate my birthday and prepare to leave. I say my goodbyes and I’m off. Around the middle of October, after everything is pretty much in place, we finally get some repreave to communicate with family and friends. I inbox her on FB and she’s glad to hear from me. She asks when I’ll be home and I tell her I’ll be home for Christmas and get her address so I can write her letters.

I write to her as well as my family. After some days pass, I get letters from my family but nothing from her. I’m pretty sure I wrote her again. Still nothing. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into a month or so. Now, I have a chance to call. So, I called my family and talked to them. I immediately call her afterwards. She answers and we talk for a while just catching up with each other.

I asked her if she got any of my letters and she says she did. “Why didn’t you write back”, I ask her. Her response, “I didn’t know what to say”. Anything. You could’ve said anything. About how you felt when I told you I was leaving (she never told me what was going through her mind. Kinda just accepted it). How you were doing. How you were making it through all of this. Anything. I never heard from her again after this phone conversation. I called again but it was fruitless.

I’m home for Christmas as I said I would be. No sign of her. Can’t get in touch with her. I find out that while I was away she became promiscuous. She even almost had sex with her own cousin in the bathroom at a house party. My heart sank. It hurt me. Once again, love kicked me in the ass. I’m pretty sure she knew she couldn’t wait for me but couldn’t bring herself to be honest with me. I wish she would’ve been honest though. It wouldn’t have hurt as much.

The Treasure Room

Finally, I found it. The treasure room. It’s solemn and looks way too grandiose for its single chest sitting lonely square in the middle. But I’m sure it means its contents won’t disappoint…

They do not! Another diamond frog, two separate golden calendar plates, and oh, so many golden coins Loladorada could have stood at the bottom of the chest and I still wouldn’t have seen the top of her tail.

This opens up possibilities for me, so many possibilities. As I inspect the precious artifacts in my hand, I can’t help but go back, again and again, to those plans I had, those plans I made, but never quite dared to follow. This, this feels like the last push I needed. The reassurance that all can and will be right.

But in the meantime, I have to get home. It’s enough time spent in Selvadorada, and my little brother and sister have a birthday to celebrate.

Office Etiquette

I work in an cubicle style office, and each cubicle has high walls so everyone has their own privacy. The problem with this is that some people believe that they have more privacy than they really have. My office is generally quiet because everyone is an engineer and we are all antisocial it seems. There is one person that sits diagonally across from my cubicle that thinks that the rest of the world can’t hear her while she is on the phone. The main problem with this is the kind of conversations she has. Just the other day, she got a voicemail from some doctor’s office that she thought was a prank call. She called back the number thinking she’ll give them a piece of her mind and puts them on speaker. After two minutes of yelling at them that she told them to remove her from the call list, the patient nurse calmly says, “Sorry for the confusion but we are calling about your colonoscopy that you have set up for tomorrow. I hope everything is all emptied out and cleaned down there for tomorrow.” The lady that works here went dead silent to the point where someone had to check on her.

Blog name change

Ame-orianna is now @wolfie-roleplay-blog. This will be moving to a general roleplay blog for my character(s) and adventures. With pictures and some stories.

Working on a new ff14 character for balmung to play with and explore there. Hope to see some of you around.

Destiny Fanfic #1

“Okay guys let’s make this quick. I want to get that new Zhalo Supercell from Xur.” Mercury-4 grumbled despondently over the coms.

“You don’t have that yet? I got it ages ago at three-ten from a legendary Engram.” Laughed Crowley jovially. Mercury’s audible sigh was cut of by Ginny’s gentle reprimand.

“Now Crowley dear, you know how sensitive he can be about luck.”

“It’s not my fault I have a richer destiny than him.” Replied the Hunter, smirking. Mercury, however quickly removed the rather overeager expression from his face.

“Fortunately, I do not have to depend on luck or weapons, skills, you might find are much more reliable. I had noticed, when I had to save you from that scrape on Mars not too long ago that your luck was running quite low. ” Crowley’s indignant reply was not long in coming.

“Hey it’s not my fault-” Ginny once again interrupted, she sounded weary.

“Yes, it never is, we know.” Silence for a few moments.

“But…”

“Shut it.” Ginny’s voice was getting dangerously stern, so Crowley conceded meekly.

“Yes mum.”

    “Don’t.” Mercury-4 and Crowley continued bickering through warp and on as they entered orbit. They transmatted down to the bleak, snowy mountains just east of the city. Hundreds of black orbs were spewing Taken across the wrecked buildings and cars, making the entire scene even more bleak than normal.

    “Blimey…” Muttered the Hunter as they looked over the miles of tainted land. “And Zavala wants us to clear all this out on our own? What does he think we are, janitors? You know last week I-” The  overused story was cut short by his Titan friend thumping his back cheerfully. He spluttered and teetered dangerously on the unsteady ground, almost flying headfirst down the cliff.

    “Come on, a good long brawl. This will be fun.”

    “Still…” Grumbled Crowley, glaring at Mercury. “It’s not exactly the wild. We’re on the Speaker’s front door.”

    “Oh, quit complaining Crowley, the important jobs are rarely the most fun.” Said Ginny sternly. “Taken this close to the City suggests another full out assault on Earth.”

“Quite the bright spark of light, you are.” Replied the Hunter, that irritating smirk back again. Both he and Mercury laughed shamelessly. Ginny sniffed and turned back to their objective, ignoring them royally.

    “Enough about my element choices. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Let’s charge our Supers first…” Offered Mercury helpfully. Ginny only cast him a withering glance, daring him to make another comment on her interesting subclass. Crowley, however was not nearly so aware of the danger.

“Remember, Mercury, she’s always charged.” Mercury thought the Warlock’s clenched fists were sparking ever so slightly. Taking the hint, he turned his chortle into a pitiable cough and put his helmet on. Crowley settled himself comfortably among the rocks, still grinning, with some contraband weapon that Ginny thought looked remarkably like Ice Breaker and waved them on. Keeping the corner of her eye on him, she put on her own helmet and readied Susanoo sullenly. Then she and Mercury hurtled over the cliff together and charged the enemy, while Crowley sent SPEEEEW echoing across the mountains, taking down darkness orbs, knights and captains that threatened his friend’s ongoing charge.

Mercury-4 bounded across the open space and slammed his fist satisfyingly into the face of a leering psion. Satisfying perhaps, but not all that useful, there were about fifty more occupying that particular space. Thinking quickly, he threw his Ward of Dawn down, allowing Ginny to catch up with him. She slid past the shield and sent round after round of dazzling arch energy flying into the endless ranks of Taken. Before long, the numbers had been narrowed down considerably. The Taken were fleeing mindlessly now and the Guardians began picking them off at their leisure.

Crowley scrambled down the cliff face and caught up with them, the sniper slung over his back. He sighed disgustedly at the sight of the fleeing enemies. “You let them get away. Now we have to mop them up.” Ginny glanced coyly at him and pushed her gun into his hands.

“Hold this for me, babe.” Mercury sniffed in disgust.

“Babe?”  Crowley nodded resignedly as Ginny began advancing, weaponless towards the routed Taken.

    “Go zap ‘em, babe.”

“Really…” She raised one fist, sparking with arc energy and channelled it to her other hand. Then she was off, floating after them like some harbinger of death by arc. Mercury and Crowley were chatting amiably behind her, watching the lightshow. “So when are you going to ask Ginny?”

“I dunno.” Sighed the Hunter, leaning on Ice Breaker. “Can never find a time when we’re alone. You’re always here, does make it a bit awkward. I pride myself on letting luck take her hand when it comes to difficult questions put to difficult people. She’s never failed me before you know. Me and my Ghost really think I have a chance.” Mercury looked skeptical.

“You know… Ginger Neils is a very attractive Warlock. You may find that your luck has gifted her to someone else while you’re dithering on the sidelines.” Crowley shot him a nasty look.

“Someone else? I’m sure you would have nothing to do with that whatsoever?” The Exo grinned widely.

“No, ‘course not. I’m not lucky enough for that.” When Ginny returned to them, victorious and still smoking slightly, she found Crowley scowling deeply, his back turned on Mercury who was still grinning mischievously. “Crowley here wanted to ask you something.” Ginny grabbed her fusion rifle from him viciously, squaring her shoulders, ready for a fight.

“More sparky jokes then? Come at me, I dare you.”  Crowley turned to her, slightly bewildered. He hummed and ha’d for a bit, swinging his arms uselessly around. Mercury gave him a thumbs up behind Ginny. Finally, the Hunter cleared his throat and began.

“I was… er I was wondering if you wanted to… to go to a place with me.” Ginny retained her stance, but raised one eyebrow.

“A place?”

“Yes!” Crowley nodded empathetically.

“With you?”

“Yes!”

“What sort of place…?” She spread her arms questioningly.

“Oh! Oh oh oh oh oh… I have here, with me…” He scrambled in his bag for a bit and spun around, apparently looking for something. His Ghost, Blinky finally took pity on him.

“Crowley, you left it in our ship.”

“Oh, er could you…”

“I’ll get it.” Crowley grabbed it eagerly as Blinky transmatted it down. Nearly tripping over himself, and bursting with anxiety, he scurried over to Ginny and thrust a small note into her hands. She unfolded it slowly and read it, her face impassive. The Hunter stood so rigid, one would have thought him reporting for battle. Mercury stifled a insensitive laugh.

“And?” Crowley asked anxiously, watching her with rapt attention.

“I-” But the so anticipated answer was cut short by something perhaps, more pressing.

“I’m getting a distress signal north-east of our position.” 31, Mercury’s Ghost said suddenly.

“It’s another Ghost.” Put in Ginny’s Ghost, Fives.

“Patching her though.” Blinky made a few chinking, whirring sounds, then succeeded in pinpointing the signal.

“Can anyone read me?” Mercury pushed past his two friends.

“Ugh, all this mission report and Vanguard stuff,” Crowley began to complain as they mounted sparrows and shot off. “Why do I even hang out with you guys.”

“I read you Ghost, what’s the situation?”

“Taken- I can’t rez- need- help-” Static cut through.

“Signal interference. Somebody doesn’t want her to be heard.” 31 said. “We can try to triangulate the origin but it could take a while. Not too far south from here.”

    “Do it. Fives, give mission report to Zavala. Tell him we’ll be out a bit longer than expected.”

What do you guys think? This is as much as I have on his one, but I’ll write more on it if you want

:D

Admonica

Bodega Boadicea,
flower and flora, fauna,
Bacchus in his sauna,
metal coffin, roof down,
wind whipping her hair
near city limits of Santa Monica,
grazing flesh, a prick, a peck,
a speck, a smote of snow for
color to cheeks, missing weeks,
finally, the mirthful god speaks,
“I’m tired of being called freaks,”
he said with a hint of regret
and a halo above his head,
“wake me when it’s all over, 
or better yet, when I’m dead.”

A snippet from the first chapter of my book

The group drank for a while more, they were talking when they heard a chair scratch the floor as someone got up, they looked over, and sure enough, the boy was in a stupor. They quickly finished their drinks and got up to follow the unconscious boy.

They followed him through the forest, into a village close by and into a library at the edge of town, “Geez, I don’t think we will find the Activator in here, it could take hours, and we only have a minute.” The boy walked over to the history section and reached for a book on the third shelf. The group didn’t get time to see what it was about before the large vortex opened behind him and he was whisked away.

The group quickly hurried after him, making sure no one followed, they waited for the ten seconds to end and looked at the boy, the portal closing behind them, “Now, what are we going to do?”


I would like to know if you want me to put the full chapter up

St. Pauli-Union Berlin Riemergere dalla tragedia

Gli ospiti hanno sicuramente imposto il loro possesso palla, hanno tirato di più e hanno vinto in tutte le statistiche con cui i professoroni del pallone si possono abbuffare a fine partita, ma nonostante ciò non hanno dominato. Il dominio di una squadra su un'altra, ma il concetto può tranquillamente esulare dal mondo sportivo, avviene quando una compagine riesce a strozzare ogni iniziativa avversaria e ad annichilire l'altra nella sua tana, oppure quando riesce a neutralizzare ogni tattica offensiva nemica e a ferire con degli assalti letali. Il St. Pauli non si è fatto domare, ma ha anzi puntato su delle rapide ripartenze con cui è riuscito a pungere o a piazzarsi con efficacia nella metà campo berlinese. Un tiro partito dal piede ancora fumante di Allagui li, o meglio dire ci, ha portati in vantaggio (fatemi dire almeno mamma mia!), mentre per il raddoppio ci ha pensato Alex Meier, che con i suoi 196 centimetri è riuscito tranquillamente a scapocciare il pallone in rete. E fin qui tutto bene.

Poi però il disastro. Verso l'ottantesimo i pirati si fanno bucare due volte nel giro di una manciata di minuti, la tragedia. Ma è qua che succede il miracolo. Il St. Pauli non si fa prendere da una amechanìa che sembrava inevitabile dopo una stangata di questa portata, ma ha anzi avuto il coraggio e la lucidità di riuscire a mettere il naso nell'area di rigore avversaria ed è riuscito a guadagnare un calcio dal dischetto. Maier lo trasforma e il Millerntor esplode, 3 a 2. Dalla commedia alla tragedia, alla commedia. Termina così la storia di una partita straordinaria che probabilmente non rimarrà nella memoria di molti, ma che ci ha insegnato ancora una volta come non bastino 100 cannonate per affondare una nave se il manipolo di pirati ha negli occhi una motivazione supportata da idee che valgono davvero.