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Il mio hobby dello stagno parte 2
Io continuerò a parlare della stagna e la sua flora e fauna. Io capisco che la materia, nerd e specialistica, ma credo che trattare con la materia che l’ho passione recentamente aiuteràmi a imparare l’italiano più efficacemente. Ieri ho venuto all pista cicabile di nuovo per collettare più di girini. Ho raccoliato 50-100 girini, ma prima ho voluto di ottenere le daphnie o pulci d’acqua. I sono difficile da catturare perchè i sono appena visibili e loro non saranno catturati di retino di pesca normale normale. É possibile trovarli in quasi tutti acqua stagnante permanente e tanti non permanente. Della mia infanzia era possibile acquistare dal mio negozio di animali locale nel un sachetto piccolo di plastica per una o due sterlina. Il nome ‘pulci d’acqua’ evoca un imaggine scradevole, è piuttosto accurata dato che faranno movimenti di salto nell’acqua e le loro gambe lunghe assomigliano a l’anatomia di pulci.
Sono considerati cibo eccellente per pesci piccoli, i avannotti e i girini. I pulci d’acqua può essere solevati e moltiplicati nutrendoli con ‘l’acqua verde’, che è l’acqua lasciata fuori al sole fino a diventa verde a causa delle alghe. Altrimenti, può essere alimentati della polvere di lievito. Da quello che ho capito, i populazioni delli pulci d’acqua subiscono una fioritura a sciame e poi un crollo a causa di sovralimentazione o accumulo di azoto. A causa del fatto che ho gli spinelli e girini in un contenitore dentro la casa, era preoccupato di come nutrirli al meglio l í. Io ho scavato recentamente uno stagno e l’ho riempito con acqua del rubinetto e cosí non contiene nè pulci d’acqua nè altri insetti casuale.
Incidentalmente, questa mattina ho veduto una cosa strana. È una foglia arrotolata, posizionato verticalmente come un palo, circa 3-4 cm di altezza, strisciava lentamente dal fondo dello stagno. Non riconoscendolo, suppongo che potrebbe essere Trichoptera, che si trovano nel regno unito. Loro sono creature interessante che costruiscono un aspecie di conchiglia, come il paguro,di qualunque materiale sia nelle vicinanze, simile a psychidae larve. Tuttavia, torniamo alla discussione sulle pulci d’acqua. Io venuto ai fossi di drenaggio a lato dall pista ciclabile di campagna, ho reimpito una vasca di plastica trasparente dàacqua per videre se c’è pulci d’acqua. Ho portato della carta bianca per tenere retro la vasca per renderlo più facile per guardare i pulci d’acqua. Dopo avevo già confermato la presenza di pulci d’acqua, ora ho bisogno di metodo per concentrare una grande massa di pulci d’acqua in un contenitore di vetro abbastanza piccolo. Tramite rierca su internet, ho letto di retine speciale per la daphnia, artemia (sea monkeys) e il plancton che avevano più piccole aperture di retine di pesce normale. Infatti avevo già ordinato una retina di daphnia e dovrebbe arrivasse oggi o domani o giù di lì. Al contrario, ho improvvisato un metodo piuttosto imbarazzante per ragruppare, che era un calzino spaiato, come qualcuno su internet aveva suggerito di usare vestiti vecchi come rete fine (nylon se possibile). Dunque Io prenderei la vasca di plastica, lo riempirei con acqua di stagno, e poi verserei il contenuto nel calzino che si è tenuto sopra lo stagno. Questo era per catturare la daphnia nella parte inferiore del calzino ovviamente. L’ho ripetuto circa dieci volte, e poi l’ho girato il calzino al reovescio e ho messo la fine del calzino in un contenitore di vetro pieno d’acqua e l’ho scosso. Putroppo, molto fango è stato sequestrato dal filtro del calzino, nella misura in cui al fino del calzino ho iniziato a intrappolare l’acqua perché i pori sono stati bloccati con il fango. L’acqua doveva spremuta fuori. Dopo aver ripetuto il processo in un altro punto vicino, potevo vedere, nonostante le particelle del terreno, avevo chiaramente raggiuntouna concentrazione piuttosto elevata di daphnia. C’erano anche quelli larve di zanzara contorte oltre alla daphnia. Questo è stato fastidioso perché non volvevo che diventino delle orribili zanzere, sebbene sono il cibo ideale per i spinelli. Quando ne ho dati alcuni ad alcuni di quelli nel contenitore dentro casa, li hanno trovati e mangiati in pochi secondi. Perciò, io spero che i girini e i spinelli li mangeranno prima che si trasformino in zanzare.
Quando ho finito di ottenere le daphnia ho rivolto la mia attenzione ai girini, che era un compito più facile perché l’avevo già fatto prima. A quel tempo volevo mangiare il mio pranzo, dunque sono andato in bicicletta fino a un punto sulla pista ciclabile dove c’era un panchina con una meravigliosa vista sulla campagna e anche sulla grande città in lontananza. Mi sono lavato le mani usando l’acqua che ho portato da casa, e ho consumato il mio pranzo al sacco. Poi sono tornato a casa in bicicletta. Il tempo era nuvoloso al mattino, ma verso le dieci del mattino è arrivato il sole, il che è stato rilassante. Mi è piaciuta anche la sensazione di andare in biciletta.
May 6, 2025
Un jour historique
Aujourd'hui, l'élection du chancelier fédéral a eu lieu au Bundestag en Allemagne.
Le candidat à vote était Friedrich Merz du parti CDU/CSU (le parti d'Angela Merkel).
Mais au grand choc de tous, il n'a pas réussi à être élu au premier tour. Cela n'est jamais arrivé auparavant.
Pour obtenir la majorité, il aurait fallu du 316 voix. Il a recu 310.
Cela montre que les partis de la nouvelle coalition ne sont pas unis derrière lui
Le deuxième tour de scrutin a pu être rattrapé quelques heures plus tard et il a gagné avec je pense 326 voix.
Il a donc réussi à s'en sortir, mais l'incertitude est grande en Allemagne.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
SPAIN AND PORTUGUAL BLACKOUTZ?
At this point, it's clear that I don’t see much news. To tell the truth, I haven't watched tv for a long time. But this notice , words out around the world. But I can’t understand perfectly yet. How important is this? And what consequences does this have? Not even the government knows the answer, some say it's a trouble system, others, some kind of conspiracy? While they find some solution to fix this, stay much more clear for us The technology, became part of us, and this show one point also, we can’t live, without electricity, when us utilize for everything. I hope the government can fix this and everything back to normal, but, just rest wait.
May 6, 2025
How being a perfect student made me depressed
At thirdteen i started to feel very stressed about feeling less in comparison to my class mates, that's when i started to study extra hours at home. Turned out i loved studying, i loved learning, but i was never smart enough. Cut to highschool, i was the smartest girl in the class, and the quieter. I, without even notice, made of my love for learning a personality trait, which is not at all wrong, but it became my -only- personality trait. While my friends began to grow out that middle school ghost and find themselves, i was stuck. Not only that, but suddenly i realized that all my hard working was useless, teachers loved me, my grades were undiscussable, but so what? I was still lost. The depression begins, i didn't care anymore about anything, not grades, not learning, not even writing (which is my biggest passion), all i could feel was anger for not receiving a reward about all those years of denying finding myself for school, plus the feeling of being in a shaking boat, and there's a storm, i see another person in a boat next to me trying to get me out of that situation, but i just can't hold its hand. I discovered that the teachers who loved me didn't care at all about my mental health, they just wanted the work done no matter what, so when i refused they would act really disapointed at me. I only got to get over it when i accepted my humanity and stopped trying so hard to be perfect, now i'm a normal teenager, useless, weird and dumb, but i'm so much happier. And i don't need to achieve the bestest of my brain, i feel validated and happy just to be alive and a medium girl.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
Meine Routine
Ich habe eine Routine für Deutsch zu lernen. Seitdem sechs Tagen habe ich keine Routine gefolgt. Es ist sehr schwierig für mich disziplin zu sein. Diese Tage habe ich jeden Tag etwas zu schreiben und meine Vokabeln verbessert. Ich habe leider keine Grammatik gelernt und keine Nachrichten gelesen. Ich habe mir auch keine Videos auf Deutsch geschaut. Ich muss zurück eine Routine bilden, weil eine Struktur wichtig ist, wenn man eine Sprache lernen möchte. Ich versuche jeden Tag etwas auf Deutsch zu tun. Sogar ist es nur für eine kurze Zeit. Ich muss geduldig mit mir sein. Jeder machen Fehler und es ist normal, weil wir nur Menschen sind.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
Warum lerne ich Deutsch?
Ich lerne gerade Deutsch, weil ich schon einmal in meiner Schule diese Schule gelernt habe. In meiner Sprache mussten wir eine Fremdsprache lernen und Deutsch war nur die Option. Ich habe diese Sprache zwei Jahre lange gelernt. In Schulen konnten wir nicht die Sprache sprechen, weil wir nicht viele Zeit hatten. Wir mussten zwei oder drei Mal pro Woche die Sprache lernen. Die Unterricht hat eine Stunde gedauert. Wir haben sich die Lehrer* innen gewechselt. Zuerst hatten wir einen Lehrer und später eine Lehrerin. Beide waren wunderbar. Es hat mir spaß gemacht, die Sprache zu lernen. Als ich sieben Jahre alt war, habe ich Franzosisch gelernt. Deswegen hatte ich eine Ahnung über wie die Fremdsprachen funktionieren.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
My Grandfather Is a Giant Schnauzer
Chapter Six – Adoption
“Oh no, it’s almost lunchtime, and we still haven’t really had breakfast! Just quick snacks — fruit, cookies, chocolate,” exclaimed Arina, suddenly remembering.
Louise shot her a dry glance over the rim of her glasses, as if to say: leaving a child in the care of such a "thoughtful assistant" was risky business.
I hadn’t even noticed how I gulped down an apple that morning, clinging to my thoughts of sketching — so eager was I to help Arina.
At that moment, Ded gave a loud snort, as if to confirm the accusation, and began scratching his ear with his hind leg in a way that clearly said: “I may just be a dog, but I understand everything.”
“All right,” Louise said with a smile. “You two go have breakfast… or rather, lunch. And I’ll go figure out the procedure for temporary adoption.”
She leaned down to speak to me at eye level.
“Toma, if you’re willing to let me handle your affairs, then you must trust me with something even more important. I’ll become your official guardian. No objections?”
I shook my head energetically. Inside, something unfolded — like a sail catching the wind.
Ded gave a pleased little huff, then, remembering his "role," went back to scratching his ear.
As we approached the makeshift kitchen set up hastily at the edge of the beach, we heard a rumbling voice.
Thierry Roche, the ship’s cook and the camp’s guardian of appetites, stood by a large pot from which wafted the smells of spices, fish, and rice.
His apron was worn and stained in places — the mark of someone who worked hard and didn’t fuss over appearances.
Beside him, neatly rolled up on the table, was a knife roll — practical and sharp, just as a proper cook should keep it.
“You can’t feed a growing boy crumbs and chocolate!” Thierry grumbled, lifting the pot’s lid and giving Louise a stern look. “Real food first — sweets later!”
Under a light canvas awning stood a long table made from bleached boards.
The aromas of stewed fish with herbs, seasoned rice, and roasted fruits stirred my appetite, making my stomach rumble traitorously.
Ded quietly settled under the table, stretching out his paws just enough to bump my leg if the food was unfairly distributed.
Next to me, Arina, head bent, was already sketching quickly in her notebook — boats, sandy alleys, the wrinkled faces of fishermen — capturing every detail of our island.
Thierry watched over me like a seasoned boatswain overseeing a new recruit in the galley.
“Now that’s a proper meal,” he declared with satisfaction as I wiped my plate clean with a piece of bread.
He set a bowl of fresh fruit slices in front of me, and then, without a word, slipped another, smaller bowl under the table — filled generously with fish and rice for Ded.
Ded lifted his head, gazed up at him respectfully, and began eating with the dignity of a well-mannered dog.
Thierry gave us both an approving nod, smoothed his apron, and muttered:
“From each according to his needs.”
Louise chuckled softly:
“Look at you — turning into a little communist?”
Arina giggled behind her sketchbook.
Thierry just waved his hand dismissively:
“Spent a few summers at Artek camp when I was a kid. Justice runs deep.”
And with that, he returned to his pot.
When I finished eating, Louise quietly motioned for me to come aside.
“We’re flying to Nassau today,” she said, crouching down beside me. Her eyes were serious, but a smile flickered at their corners. “Everything’s arranged. We just need to pack and be ready.”
I nodded. Somewhere deep inside, an invisible string trembled at her words.
Until now, everything around me had felt like a dream. Suddenly, the world became very real.
Ded nudged my hand with his nose, as if to say: "Don’t worry. We’re in this together."
When the others heard about the trip, we quickly gathered companions. Elen and Maren asked to join, and with permission granted, Maren hurried off to prepare. He approached Ded, gave him a critical look, and said:
“He’ll need a collar. They won’t let a dog into the hotels otherwise.”
Bruno Clément, standing nearby, frowned.
“They might not allow you inside. Maybe better to leave the dog with me here on the island?”
Something twisted painfully inside me.
I pulled Ded closer, feeling his warm fur against my skin. Ded stayed silent, but his gaze said everything.
Maren noticed and thought for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers brightly:
“No way. He’s coming with us. We’ll make a collar ourselves! I have a spare belt in my backpack.”
He unbuckled his woven leather belt, studied it like a craftsman, and added:
“This will make a perfect collar. And the leftovers — we’ll braid into a leash.”
Activity burst into life by the camp kitchen.
Someone fetched a knife, someone else a sturdy carabiner from old gear.
Someone found a broken fishing rod ring — perfect for securing the carabiner to the leash.
Maren, face focused, carefully cut the belt, deftly unraveling strips and weaving them into a tight braid.
People bustled around, offering advice, cracking jokes — like a real ship’s crew before a voyage.
Ded lay absolutely still, patient and dignified. He understood perfectly: this was for him.
An hour later, the collar and leash were ready. Captain Branc himself tested their strength, pulling hard in both directions.
“Solid,” he said with a nod, clapping Maren on the shoulder.
“A true sea dog,” Maren said proudly, fastening the leash.
Ded barked once, short and approving, as if to say: Now I’m a real wolf!
When the preparations were complete, Jean-Luc Forger was already inspecting the seaplane — an old De Havilland Beaver, a true classic of tropical air routes. His sunglasses caught flashes of sunlight as he hummed a lively tune under his breath, short and stocky like a cheerful old sailor.
"Bienvenue à bord, young sailors!" he shouted, waving to us from the pontoon.
He must have been nearing fifty, while Louise was only thirty-eight. Maybe that's why he felt free to call all of us "young."
Louise made a joke about it, and I smiled.
We took our seats. Jean-Luc at the controls, Arina with her sketchbook beside him. I sat directly behind the pilot, by the window on the left. Louise sat next to me. Behind us, Maren and Elen squeezed into the back row.
Ded sprawled out across the floor, neatly tucking his muzzle under my sneakers.
When everyone was settled, the engine roared to life.
The seaplane slowly backed away from the shore, lazily slicing the water, then turned sharply, gaining speed across the waves — and with a sudden, smooth lift, we were airborne.
I was pressed into my seat, my heart dropping somewhere into my shoes.
The noise was so overwhelming that Jean-Luc shouted something over his shoulder, but his words drowned in the roar of the engines. We could only guess by his gestures.
Below us, the ocean opened wide — an endless shimmering blue.
Far away, silver patches sparkled — shoals of fish churning the surface.
I sat silently, drinking in every curve of the waves, every glint of sunlight on the water.
At first, the sea below was clear and bright, but the farther we flew, the darker the surface became.
Then, patches of sargassum appeared — thick golden weeds floating like sleepy continents.
And behind them came dirty green and brown stains. At first, I thought: jellyfish?
But no — looking closer, I realized: these were islands of garbage.
Plastic bags, torn nets, rusted barrels — drifting, poisoning the sea.
I gripped the seatbelt tighter. Somewhere down there, the ocean was dying.
And it was us — humans — killing it.
Arina, sitting ahead, flipped open her notebook and started sketching again — even here, even through the noise and shaking.
Louise quietly placed her hand on my shoulder.
Across the aisle, Elen leaned toward Maren, whispering something into his ear.
He blushed furiously and mumbled back.
They didn’t care about the view outside the window — they were wrapped up in their own world.
I noticed it and smiled to myself.
After about two hours of flying, a huge city rose on the horizon.
At first it looked like a scattering of golden beads gleaming against the blue.
Then houses with brightly painted roofs came into focus, and white piers, and tiny ships clustered by the docks.
The seaplane touched the water with a soft, gliding thump — like a giant seabird.
We skimmed toward the dock, and the engines fell silent, leaving only the soft slosh of waves and the distant murmur of the city.
Evening Nassau greeted us with a hot, humid wind scented with mango, salt, and fried bananas.
On the waterfront, strings of lights blinked between the buildings. Somewhere down the alleys, reggae music bounced through the air. The smells of spicy food, exhaust, and blooming flowers mingled around us.
I walked behind Louise, holding Ded's leash.
He marched proudly by my side, like a sailor on shore leave.
Ahead of us, Maren and Elen laughed together.
Elen shoved a cup of fruit ice into Maren's hand, and he, flustered, nearly dropped it.
He turned bright red and muttered something, while Elen just giggled and wiped his sticky fingers with a napkin.
Louise kept offering me sweets from street vendors, but I politely refused.
I wasn’t hungry — I was busy drinking in every piece of this new world with my eyes.
The lights from the lanterns shimmered in puddles along the cobbled streets.
Old men smoked pipes outside shop doors.
Children chased scraps of plastic bottles, kicking them like footballs.
The city was noisy, dazzling, and completely unlike anything I had ever known.
It was a living fairy tale — the kind Ded used to tell me, and now, here I was inside it.
In the morning, after a hearty breakfast, we headed to the consulate.
Jean-Luc was already waiting for us by the entrance — he had arranged for a car so we could quickly take care of everything.
Far from his beloved plane, he looked a little lost and kept glancing at the sky.
The consulate building, white with a proud French coat of arms, looked strict and a little sleepy.
Louise filled out the documents meticulously.
I was asked to press my finger onto a sheet of paper and then stand still while they took a photo.
— Welcome aboard, little prince, — the consul said with a warm smile.
We left the consulate right after, making our way back toward our seaplane.
As we drove through the streets of Nassau, I pressed my forehead against the car window and soaked everything in with hungry eyes.
In the morning light, Nassau was even brighter, bustling with life.
Vendors were laying out baskets of fruit along the sidewalks, women in colorful dresses laughed and called out to each other, children raced around with homemade toys, weaving between stalls.
The city seemed even more magical now — busy, alive, full of unknown stories.
The flight back was nothing like the first one.
When we lifted off the water, the roar of the engines no longer seemed so frightening — it even felt a little softer, like an old song that no longer scared me.
I sat by the window, watching the endless ocean unfold below in all its shades of blue and green.
It felt as though the tension that had built up inside me over these past days was slowly melting away.
— Louise, — I asked, — why did the consul call me the Little Prince?
She smiled and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.
— I think he remembered a beautiful story when he saw you and your Ded — she said softly. —
The heart of that story is simple: We are responsible for those we have tamed.
— Oh! — I leaned closer. — Could you tell me that story? I haven't heard any tales for so long.
Louise nodded, and for a moment, her smile trembled — two tears rolled down her cheeks.
— These are good tears, — she said, wiping them away.
— And yes, I’ll tell you. But first... do you know how to play games?
Want me to teach you one I loved when I was your age?
I nodded eagerly.
So Louise taught me a game called Qui perd, gagne — "He who loses, wins."
If you made a mistake, you had to invent a funny challenge for the others.
It wasn't about being right — it was about making everyone laugh.
We played and laughed until our stomachs hurt.
Sometimes Maren and Hélène joined in too — though most of the time, they were too busy being secretly in love, holding hands and thinking no one noticed.
But I did notice, and smiled quietly to myself.
In the cockpit, Arina kept sketching endlessly, her pages flipping in the breeze.
Through the window, I watched the ocean change again — the blue growing lighter, the waters sparkling as we neared home.
When we finally touched down near the island, I could see familiar faces waving from the shore.
Cécile Angers, Captain Branc, Jean-Marc Lecroix — all waiting for us.
I stepped onto the sand and felt the ground cling to my soles, as if the island itself, once touched by loss, was afraid to let me go again.
At the camp, we were welcomed with laughter and the delicious smells of dinner.
Thierry Roche, armed with his ladle like a knight with a sword, had prepared a real feast:
stewed fish, rice cooked with spices, roasted fruits that smelled of honey and salt.
I ate in silence, savoring every bite.
It felt as if everything churning inside me these past days was slowly settling — like the sea calming after a storm.
Ded also got his share — a generous portion placed right under the table — and he ate with all the dignity of a seasoned sailor back from a long voyage.
After dinner, Louise came up to me, smiling:
— Well then, my little prince, it's time to begin your lessons.
We sat on the warm sand under a canopy of stars.
Louise picked up a thin stick and started drawing letters carefully:
Toma Makea
I traced the letters after her, slowly, carefully, my tongue sticking out in concentration.
Then she showed me a few simple French words:
"ami" — friend,
"chien" — dog,
"mer" — sea.
Ded dozed next to us, his leash neatly coiled by his side.
The sound of the ocean was like a deep, steady breath all around us.
When it grew darker, Louise stood and held out her hand:
— Come, little prince, I promised you a story.
We went to my small tent.
Louise sat on the mat; I lay down on top of my sleeping bag, with Ded curling up right by the entrance, as if keeping guard.
Louise began to tell the story — quietly, almost whispering.
About the boy who lived on a tiny planet.
About the rose he loved.
About the travelers he met while searching for a way home.
And about the Fox, who taught him the most important thing:
"You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed."
I listened without blinking.
The gentle rustle of the wind against the tent walls blended with her voice, and it felt like the night itself was telling me this story.
When she finished, Louise brushed my hair lightly and said:
— I will find that book for you. I promise.
Without thinking, I sat up and threw my arms around her neck, hugging her tight.
— Thank you, Louise, — I whispered.
She froze for a heartbeat, then hugged me back and kissed me on the cheek.
— Good night, my little prince, — she said.
I lay back down, feeling my eyes close, heavy with happiness and peace.
Outside, the sea whispered and breathed.
And I fell asleep, knowing:
My new life was beginning.
And this time, I had someone waiting for me.
As for Ded?
He hadn't gone anywhere.
He had simply become a dog.
And honestly — I think he liked it better this way.
No more aching back, no sore knees, no complaints — just the simple joy of lying on warm sand and listening to the waves.
To be continued...
May 6, 2025
Salar de Uyuni
Ich habe keine Ahnung über die Stadt, aber ich würde gerne Bolivien besuchen. Weil es dort einen interessanten Ort gibt. Der Ort heißt Salar de Uyunu. Ich finde es fantastisch, weil man sein Spiegelbild sehen kann. Es ist mein Traum dieser Ort zu besuchen. Ich kann nur hoffen, dass ich in meiner Zunkunft dort einen Ausflug machen. Ich denke, dass wir nicht viele Orte in der ganzen Welt wie das haben.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
Taj Mahal
Meine Lieblingssehenswürdigkeiten in meinem Land ist Taj Mahal. Ich habe es schon einmal besucht, als ich 13 Jahre alt war. Die Sehenswürdigkeit ist unglaublich. Ich bin mit dem Auto dort gegangen. Die Reise hat ungefähr drei Stunden gedauert. Ich bin mit meinen Cousins und meinem Vater gefahren. Wir sind den gleichen Tag zurückgekommen. Es war eine kurze Reise, weil es nur mein Traum Tag Mahal zu sehen war.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025
bist du faul?
Klipp und klar beschreibt faul wie eine unbeliebte Adjektive. Menschen haben so viele Vorstellungen bezüglich dieses Themas, und wir sind unheimlich unterschiedlich miteinander. Z.B man glaubt , die Leute , die immer von Restaurants bestellen, sind faule Menschen. Anderer sagt wenn Menschen keine Arbeit haben, sind sie Faule. Weitere behaupt , wenn man z.B Taxi bestellt, ist dieser man faul ! Wahrscheinlich haben wir verschiedene Ansichten, aber was als ehre Bedeutung gilt und was als Übertreibung betracht ? Meine Meinung nach ist, dass keine bestimmte Regel davon gibt . Ich kann jeden Tag nach Hause zum Füßen oder mit Fahrrad kommen, jedoch wenn ich Tod müde vor anstrengenden Arbeit bin , dann Taxi Bestellung ist mir wie ein Muss ! so ich kann dieses Thema zusammenfasse , kann ich ganz einfach sagen , wenn man sowohl ausreichende eine Zeit als auch eine kräftige , um die aufgaben zu erledigen hat , und trotzdem fragt man nach einer Hilfe, dann bezeichnet man als faul . ansonsten hat jeder das Recht solange er das Geld hast , ab und zu wenn er unter schwierigen Bedingungen ist, nach eine Hilfe zu fragen. :)
May 6, 2025
What I Learnt from Podcast
The moment you ask yourself whether you are happy, you instantly stop being happy.
It's better not to pursue happiness. When you can't obtain it, you lose your sense of positivity.
The times when you are wholeheartedly striving toward a goal are when you feel the most fulfilled and happiest.
17:12:41 (UTC)
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