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Interwar

Sometimes I think back to someone ... Someone who impressed me and that I would write a few words. Someone who only needed a look, even if unintended, to make me feel something unique. Someone who, despite everything I've known since, despite all the experiences I had, I left unanswered. Are all the tears of a failed love that make me write it? Is it his misunderstanding, his silence, or worse, indifference?

Do you know that indifference is this in-between is worse for your partner? It should not even be allowed to do anything feeling: We can not remain totally indifferent to someone who speaks. So hate it, love it, but at least do something. Indifference plunges you into the wave and in ignorance, give you each day in question: "Do I have a chance?".

I would not deny that I tell a story here and a very focused sense unfortunately encountered a little too steep, but left to speak directly to you as much benefit to the corporation: ignore never contact to whom you do not want to hurt. Perhaps this indifference comes mostly from an inability to find words, then force yourself, try to find some simple words, but at least talking to each other, never let vague. It is also a question of franchise, you know? I think there's always a pair of words stammer to the person who gives you his heart.

But after all, probably this one there has found a few words or at least a slight smile across his shyness, to his embarrassment, fear in all its ... No doubt she did her best, although she could not bring me happiness that I asked. So anyway, I'll never forget. And now I know this is more than love I feel for her. Yet, I still think often and I do not know why ... Maybe love is too strong, although past. But then, if not more love, and it is still not friendship, what? Of nostalgia? What is this in-between that I do not know?

I received many messages about this post after the fact, apparently the riddle on the person really liked. So he must know that every word matters and that the person is well defined here. Notably, this is a person I loved "at first sight", as stated in the first paragraph, which excludes any meeting to distance ... It was indeed physical, and surprising. Oh, and then procrastinated enough ... Her name is Camille.

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New Year to Stepanavan: images and captions

Start the New Year abroad for your servant and let me tell you that they know will be here in Armenia. The proof in pictures and captions.
Big ups to everyone who attended: Sona, Vartan, Papik January, Armin, Joy, Leslie Michelle, Andrea, John Mustard and Pascal ... thank you very much for not letting me celebrate the new year as only a dead rat ... I will not forget.

Some portraits in black and white here and there ...

Pascal

Michelle

Michelle and Leslie

Andrea

Leslie

Arminé January and Pascal

In color too ...

Joy and Michelle

Michelle and Andrea

Vartan, the Henri Cartier Bresson Armenian

Papik in thinking about its next genatz ...

table waiting for us just before midnight, after having swallowed the delicious dolma ... on top

Do not ask me what it is ...

I learned three things during this festival:

1 - When you open a bottle should always be two security question ...

The 2-hugs ... not need signs to offer free ... it's beautiful.

3 - The Armenians know better cook pork than any other nation in the world. It is scientifically proven and validated by Pascal, French-Caucasian specialist and author of numerous books on the subject.

I highly recommend his book "How to cut the pork, the pitfalls to avoid, to respect the traditions not to be ridiculed by family and in public" , published Xolovatz.

Small question on tatoos of Papik ...

"Do not worry son, j't'explique.

In color too

Absent, but still with us ...

known to party in international fashion in Armenia ...

The countdown is over ... Happy New Year! And do not forget to fill my glass above all, thank you very much ... please accept Dear ...

Schnoll havor-normal tariff!

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Vardablur: Surb Sargis, the sacred assembly or the scam of the century


Today unlikely return in the past, in 2010, last year, already far for you all ... A journey through time, just to continue the series "Discovering beautiful landscapes of this beautiful city and misunderstood Stepanavan . And this, by talking about a village that would deserve a pilgrimage at least once in his life: Vardablur.
Ahhhhhhh, Vardablur ... I had heard so much about this church perched at the summit of your mountain, Surb Sargis. He had pointed the finger off and whispered in my ear religiously practicing atheist:
- "You see, there, on top of this mountain is a church."
- "Ouahhhhhhhhh, seriously? Too deadly! I want to see this.
As I was anxious to see this church. I saw myself at the top, triumphant, dripping with sweat, but proud to have arrived safe and sound while the top with, as a reward, the sight of a magnificent church. Once ...
Unfortunately, as the great Charles, I like the effort, but I do not practice. A USSI, the rise was most difficult. Especially for me who as a child I developed an allergy very rare in sports of all kinds (we are only two in the world to have) . result, the ascent was quickly transformed into a real nightmare with points aside, feeling sick and heart murmur. Over 1500 meters, it is definitely too much for one man. "The interest has to be michto church!"
After some complaints my secret, I finally made the summit. This was it! Finally, I went to see the church as perfect!
Except that here ... Armenians, it is a fact, sometimes tend to embellish reality ... So here is because the "church" in question. A real scandal.

This is called politely foutage of a real face. A hoax WRONG! Let me tell you that I immediately wanted to complain ... but to whom? Mayor of the village? The union of tenants of Armenian churches? Catholicos Karekin II?

Stunned and blinded by hate, I almost forgot the beautiful scenery and tranquility of the place that Armin had raised fifteen minutes earlier while I Lay Dying.

desperation, a second annoyance would undermine my moral good.

Not far from the "church" stood a magnificent "tree wish". .. the same kind as Sourp Nshan . Problem, I had nothing to hang on the tree! Hysterics. Though I tried searching, but other than a lock of hair or a sock Decathlon more or less clean, I do not see how to build that damn tree that seemed to taunt me. Like or Greg Armine that they had all the necessary gear. To believe that a conspiracy was hatched against me. The paranoid then seized my whole being as I realized with bitterness that my wish for a taxi to pick us presto had no chance of coming true.

The cursed tree in question

That Armine, taunting me, taunting me ...

Americans always want to be first, highest, most everything ... this one is no exception ...

At wit's end, I decided nevertheless to penetrate inside the artifact church. .. And there, phew stuff, the door closes by itself and in a religious silence, I see some candles shining in the darkness, illuminating the benevolent face of Jesus Christ. Candles still burning, then we're only here for a long time! " It's a miracle! " I cried.

This picture is disgusting, but it is the only one I ...

Calm the maggot. Simple travelers were gone before me and were left quietly without my realizing it ... No miracle.

Too bad. I took advantage of this moment of calm for my collection, thinking about God and the terrible trials which I submitted. Nan j'déconne.

I tracked down two candles instead abandoned (theft of candles is a mortal sin severely punished by indefinite wandering in limbo according to the Vulgate St. Jerome) and lit by thinking rather my grandmother Haïganouche. Formerly, it was also light candles at the Armenian church my dear common Décines before we bring the " maz " in a pristine white paper. Paper that I admit I kept in mind.

Before leaving, I noticed a curious thing ... a kind of T-shaped pole with hooks on the horizontal bar. Look, I tell myself, Armenians have even provided a valet for the faithful who would not get too hot on returning to collect ... Unbelievable.

error, it was actually hooks to hang the animals are sacrificed! Dried blood on the floor showed a recent slitting throats ... A hen or another pet birds likely ... Hardcore .

Yes, we still sacrifice animals in Armenia and hope to live in the stuff living and live and comment on this blog for you, dear faithful reader. .. Inshallah!

On the way back, Armine tells me he'll have to walk 20 kilometers to reach Stepanavan ... My great mastery of techniques of persuasion to convince me to take a bus ... Not even need to "wish tree".

Go, a last glance on this accursed mountain before leaving. It's beautiful anyway ...

Church Anniversary Samples

Benjamin Dube - Ngiyakuthanda