Lógica Proposicional aplicada a IB

P: Voy a estudiar.

¬P

- Chiara Alhadeff.

Ghost,

Did you know sometimes it frightens me
when you say my name and I can't see you?
will you ever learn to materialize before you speak?
impetuous boy, if that's what you really are
how many centuries since you've climbed a balcony?
or do you do this every night with someone else?
you tell me that you never leave
and I am almost afraid to believe it
why is it me you've chosen to follow?
did you like the way I look when I am sleeping?
was my hair more fun to tangle?
are my dreams more entertaining?
do you laugh when I'm complaining that I'm all alone?
where were you when I searched the sea
for a friend to talk to me?
in a year, where will you be?
is it enough for you to steal into my mind,
filling up my page with music written in my hand?
you know I'll take the credit, for I must have made you come to me somehow
but please, try to close the curtains when you leave at night
or I'll have to find someone to stay and warm me
will you always attend my midnight tea parties,
as long as I set your place?
if, one day, your sugar sits untouched
will you have gone forever?
would you miss me in a thousand years
when you will dry another's tears?
but you say you'll never leave me
and I wonder if you'll have the decency
to pass through my wall to the next room
while I dress for dinner...
but when I'm stuck in conversation
with stuffed shirts whose adoration
hurts my ears, where are you then?
can't you cut in when I dance with other men?
it's too late not to interfere with my life,
you've already made me a most unsuitable wife
for any man who wants to be the first his bride has slept with
and you can't just fly into people's bedrooms
then expect them to calmly wave goodbye...
you've changed the course of history,
and didn't even try.
where are you now?
standing behind me,
taking my hand,
come and remind me
who you are
have you traveled far?
are you made of stardust too?
are the angels after you?
tell me what I am to do
but until then, I'll save your side of the bed
just come...and sing me to sleep...

_________________________________________

Simplemente porque estuvo resonando en mi mente todo el día, ayer y hoy...

 

 Decir palabrotas y maldecir reduce el dolor que sentimos cuando nos caemos o nos golpeamos, según una investigación realizada por la Universidad de Keele (Reino Unido). El estudio, que publica hoy la revista "NeuroReport", concluye que emplear los términos malsonantes del lenguaje alarga en un 50 por ciento el tiempo que podemos soportar el dolor.

 Stephens pidió a 64 estudiantes voluntarios que metieran una de sus manos en una cuba con agua helada y que resistieran lo más posible mientras repetían una misma palabrota de su elección. Después, les pidió que repitieran el experimento, pero esta vez utilizando una palabra común con la que describirían una mesa. El resultado fue que los estudiantes resistían una media de 2 minutos cuando empleaban términos ofensivos, indecentes o groseros, y una media de un minuto y quince segundos cuando no lo hacían.

  Stephens explica que el corazón se nos acelera cuando utilizamos un vocabulario malsonante, lo mismo que ocurre cuando nos encontramos en una situación de debilidad o de miedo y tratamos de reducir la sensación de amenaza para hacerle frente.

 "Decir palabrotas es un lenguaje emocional, pero si se emplea en exceso se pierde su vínculo emocional", concluye.

Source: http://ar.news.yahoo.com/s/13072009/24/n-world-decir-palabrotas-da-reduce-dolor.html

Interesting. Sigamos puteando, entonces :D

Through the Looking-Glass

'He's dreaming now,' said Tweedledee: 'and what do you think he's

dreaming about?'

Alice said 'Nobody can guess that.'

'Why, about YOU!' Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly.

'And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be?'

'Where I am now, of course,' said Alice.

'Not you!' Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. ' You'd be nowhere. Why,

you're only a sort of thing in his dream!'

'If that there King was to wake,' added Tweedledum, 'you'd go

out--bang!--just like a candle!'

- ...Don't you hate that? 

- Hate what? 

- Uncomfortable silences... Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable? 

- I don't know. That's a good question. 

- That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share a silence...

Macaron Afternoooon (L)

I need a change of skin

Viernes, 2 am, y mi salida ya terminó. Cada vez hay menos lugares adonde ir, courtesy of Influenza A. Al menos la música me acompaña...

.

. .

. . .

You can run but you can't hide
Because no one here gets out alive
Find a friend in whom you can confide
Julien, you're a slow motion suicide