ARE FLOWERS PLANTS http://blog.dnevnik.hr/are-flowers-plants

četvrtak, 20.10.2011.

YOU DON T SMELL LIKE FLOWERS ANYMORE. YOU DON T SMELL


You Don T Smell Like Flowers Anymore. Prom Flowers 2011.



You Don T Smell Like Flowers Anymore





you don t smell like flowers anymore






    flowers
  • Be in or reach an optimum stage of development; develop fully and richly

  • Induce (a plant) to produce flowers

  • (of a plant) Produce flowers; bloom

  • (flower) a plant cultivated for its blooms or blossoms

  • (flower) reproductive organ of angiosperm plants especially one having showy or colorful parts

  • (flower) bloom: produce or yield flowers; "The cherry tree bloomed"





    anymore
  • To any further extent; any longer

  • at the present or from now on; usually used with a negative; "Alice doesn't live here anymore"; "the children promised not to quarrel any more"

  • "Anymore" is a song recorded by country music artist Travis Tritt. It is the second single released from his 1991 album It's All About To Change. It peaked at #1 in both the United States and Canada. His second number-one hit in the United States, and his fourth number-one in Canada.

  • Alternative form of any more





    don t
  • Does not

  • "Don't!" is a song by Canadian singer Shania Twain. It was the second single released from her 2004 Greatest Hits album (not to be confused with the Billy Currington song of the same title). The song was written by Twain and then-husband Mutt Lange. "Don't!

  • "Don't" is the title of a song written by Jim Beavers and Jonathan Singleton, and recorded by American country music artist Billy Currington. It is the first single from his third studio album, 2008's Little Bit of Everything.

  • Do not

  • Don't is a 1925 comedy film directed by Alfred J. Goulding. The film stars Sally O'Neil, John Patrick, Bert Roach and Ethel Wales. The film is one of the 'B' pictures the studio produced to keep the Loew circuit and other cinemas supplied.





    smell
  • the sensation that results when olfactory receptors in the nose are stimulated by particular chemicals in gaseous form; "she loved the smell of roses"

  • inhale the odor of; perceive by the olfactory sense

  • Have or use a sense of smell

  • emit an odor; "The soup smells good"

  • Sniff at (something) in order to perceive or detect its odor or scent

  • Perceive or detect the odor or scent of (something)











you don t smell like flowers anymore - Alice Doesn't




Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore


Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore



ALICE DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE - DVD Movie

Having scored a critical triumph with Mean Streets, Martin Scorsese accepted Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore as his first big-studio assignment, proving his versatility and further advancing his promising career. Hot off The Exorcist with her choice of projects at Warner Brothers, Ellen Burstyn sought a hot young talent (Scorsese was recommended by Francis Coppola) to direct Robert Getchell's fine, sensitive screenplay about Alice Wyatt, a newly-widowed 35-year-old lounge singer with a bratty 12-year-old son (Alfred Lutter) and a very uncertain future. Her pursuit of broken dreams lands her a waitressing job in an Arizona diner, where she befriends foul-mouthed Flo (Diane Ladd) and meets and falls in love with a divorced farmer (Kris Kristofferson). With absolute authenticity of emotion and incident, Alice--which earned Burstyn a well-deserved Oscar® and features supporting roles for future Taxi Driver costars Jodie Foster and Harvey Keitel--conveys a then-timely sense of strength and endurance from a single mother in desperate times. There have been several similar dramas made since 1974, but Alice (which inspired the popular TV sitcoms Alice and Flo) is still the best. Trivia buffs: Look closely for Ladd's daughter--a very young Laura Dern--and Scorsese as background extras in the diner scenes. --Jeff Shannon










84% (16)





one nine zero. Avalanche




one nine zero. Avalanche





SOOC. Custom white balance.

I want to go on an adventure next summer. I would call it a roadtrip, but I have had many of those. I want something different. An adventure. My eighteenth summer. I will have my license. Hopefully I will have a truck. I will have money saved because saving is what I do best. I don’t know how long I would be gone. Maybe a month, maybe two, maybe the entire summer, from start to finish. I want to drive to Canada and pick up a certain person. I don’t want to go it alone, really, and I would specifically want him there. Not necessarily for protection. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. But for company and for good music and for getting bugs away and for him. I would say I’d go pick him up and force him on an adventure, regardless of the fact that there is a distinct possibility he very well may hate me. But that isn’t really true. Because if he didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t make him. Obviously I couldn’t make him, anyway, but I wouldn’t want to.

I want to go to coffee shops even though I fucking hate coffee. I want to meet people and I don’t really want to do that alone. I want to go to every state, meet you people. Take photos. Visit the family that moved this summer that I miss. Give them the photo book I will have created by then. Spend the day with them out by their lake. Meet her family that she moved to be near. That she couldn’t live without anymore. Play with the kids because they will still remember me a year from now. Tell their mom that I want to be invited to their weddings, so please don’t foget about me. At least not until then. I will tell the little boy what he said to me when I asked about him moving away. Remind him about when he cried in Toy Story 3 and how that absolutely broke my heart but gave me so, so much hope. He has a good heart. He can feel things. What a beautiful father he will be one day. What a beautiful person he is today.

I really want to sleep outside and get over my fear of bugs. They can’t hurt me, not really. Not more than nature, not more than the stars, not more than human beings. The way the wind smells before thunder, that kills me. But bugs…bugs can’t do shit. Why am I so freaked out by them, then? I want to get over it. I want to go hiking and swim in my clothes. I don’t need money for food, but for everything else.

When I stop for gas, I want to ask the person at the next pump (who enevitably looks like they are just going through the motions, trying to get home) what makes them feel alive. Then when I stop for food at some trashy little place with ugly prostitutes I want to ask the waitress if she has kids, does she want them. Who was her first love. Because normally you don’t ask these people anything. You just stand there and look at them, like that truly is any more normal than saying what makes you passionate. Normally you just say please and thank you, have a good night. Surely I am not the only one who fights the urge to ask, do you feel anything when you see a dying flower?

I would have to take more empty notebooks than clothes because the purpose would be to live. And living is better when you figure shit out. I also really love pens. Maybe that’s what I would do, buy a pen from each state. Just one. Just a regular one. And write on it in Sharpie the state and date. Maybe I would ask for one out of a pack, but not the whole pack. And if you tell people your story they are a lot more likely to help you out. Because everyone wants to feel part of something meaningful. Extravagant. Special. Alive.

Maybe this makes you wishful or somewhat nostalgic because you know there is no possibility of it happening. It’s a dream. It’s a fantasy.

The difference between you and me is that I will make it happen. This isn’t a dream to me, this is life. This is what life is about. Living. Feeling. Loving. Caring. Teaching. Showing. Learning. Never stopping.

I will have everything I need. A license. A car. A passport. A camera. A notebook. A debit card with some merit. And I’m going to do it.











DD2




DD2





This is what I have been doing lately... I was wondering questions of WHY and HOW...Then I started thinking of change.. there is no change in this life, on this earth...It looks like there is but there is no change at all... Look at the seasons. They may seem like changing. However, that's just an illusion. The same weather patterns keep following one another in the same order throughout the year... If it poured red rain, coming from a purple cloud on a llight brown sky and each drop had a different smell and made you feel different; that I would call this change!!! I don't mean to say change is impossible. I hope it is possible... I am just brainstorming out loud as I have nothing better to do...

Hummm... I would love to liv in a home with lots of plants. Not flowers though. Green plants. I love them. They are alive too and have secret ears....ok that was a pathetic idea. Forget about it. I just like the energy coming from a green plant.... hummm colors... according to one of those psychology tests I took online, the only color I don't need in my life is my favourite color, purple. Why do I like that color so much if I dont need it? or should I stop favoruing it just because I dont need it anymore? should I change it? but why would I change it if thats my favoruite color? I am confused by those strange tests... why the hell am I taking them if they are so strange... Today is another rainy day... I got distracted by the rain...I am at home... yes still...I had an argument with my mom... In fact 2 arguments... but I dont feel like writing about those here...All I know is she won't speak with me for a while as I am not following her ways... her ways that were billion years ago... but because there is no bridge between her and I, we keep getting mad at each other instead of understanding and accepting each other....reminds me of a spider and its web... The most interesting experiment I heard about so far is where they somehow get those spiders high and then they watch the outcome of their webs which turn out as crazy beautiful figures....My grandmother used to knit a lot. May be she was a high spider in her ex ex life..

They say the season for hot wine has began. Who are they and where are they ? In this room, there is one couch not even enough for one person, orange curtains, a small table with food from 7 days ago on it.. yeah it stinks... I must admit I havent taken a shower last 5 days.There is all the necessary environment ready for my metamorphosis. You know what I am talking about if you have read Kafka's Metamorphosis... I am Gregor Samsa's female reancarnation. Damn this explains why I have that strange thing in one of my eyes. I cannot see clearly and it hurts... there s more disgusting details but I prefer not writing about those.If I ever leave home, I should first visit the dentist and then the 'eye doctor' or whatever they are called...Honestly, I hate doctors...not a modern approach in a modern era, ha?! I know... I am just too stubborn and I put the blame on my horoscope as I am a taurus...

Life at its best smells like the ocean...

allright there is more in my mind... more nonesense... today's summary is I woke up in the late afternoon almost evening.. had chocolate... started writing down whatever came to my mind. hummm I havent seen the morning lately. Its like I am living on a different planet where there is only afternoon, evening and night... Bats I find fascinating... they always turn left when they leave their caves...

-DEPHNEY-










you don t smell like flowers anymore








you don t smell like flowers anymore











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See also:

where flowers bloom

nancy's floral

prom flower arrangements

artificial floral decorations

used flower cooler

sony ericsson flowers

alice olivia floral dress

lilac floral arrangements

flower tube top

flower corsages



20.10.2011. u 18:23 • 0 KomentaraPrint#^

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