| 0
- 23.11.2018 - 21:01
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Или жополизка, просто подлиза. А я люблю говорить добрые слова другим, а они наверное ждут от меня пинков и хамства. Как начать говорить гадости и не вовлекаться и не переживать? Пришел Максимка гадостей наговорил и ушел. из раза в раз так..     | | |
| 1
- 23.11.2018 - 21:03
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| 2
- 23.11.2018 - 21:03
| А я когда говорю что-то хорошее так у меня прям внутри цветы распускаются целыми оранжереями...правда..но вот со стороны это наверное ложь и лицемерие..надо похвалить и пожурить, пожурить и похвалить | | |
| Модератор 3
- 23.11.2018 - 21:09
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Очень жирно. Туча тролль. Только тему надо было называть УПОРОТЫЙ ЛИС  | | |
| 4
- 23.11.2018 - 21:10
| 3-AdelDiamond почему | | |
| 5
- 23.11.2018 - 21:11
| Но фотка удачная)) | | |
| 6
- 23.11.2018 - 21:11
| Вот опять( похвалила(( | | |
| 7
- 23.11.2018 - 21:13
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2-Tucshka > не поверишь, меня сейчас эта тема немного взволновала. Человек пишет в ватсапе сейчас очень теплые слова, я бы сказала из серии подхалимаж. Я отвечаю "спасибо, такие слова всегда приятны", она отвечает "я правду говорю" и через минуту удаляет первое подхалимское сообщение на тему, что я мать-героиня всея руси. И я теперь в недоумении: неужели человек сам допер, что это уже перебор. Щас я тебе в ватсапе перекину дословно | | |
| 8
- 23.11.2018 - 21:13
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Faint hope! She hadn't a moment to take a step before he dropped his hands from his face and scanned the room. He saw her, no doubt of that. A beat later, he was bearing down upon her with renewed violence. At her feet lay a litter of domestic items. The heaviest item amongst them was a plain box. She reached down and picked it up. As she stood upright, he was upon her. She loosed a cry of defiance and swung the box-bearing fist at his head. It connected heavily; bone splintered. The beast tottered backward, and she launched herself toward the door, but before she reached it the shadow swamped her once more, and she was flung backward across the room. It came in a raging pursuit. This time he had no intention beyond the murderous. His lashes were intended to kill; that they did not was testament less to her speed than to the imprecision of his fury. Nevertheless, one out of every three blows caught her. Gashes opened in her face and upper chest; it was all she could do to prevent herself from fainting. As she sank beneath his assault, again she remembered the weapon she'd found. The box was still in her hand. She raised it to deliver another blow, but as Frank's eyes came to rest on the box his assault abruptly ceased. There was a panting respite, in which Kirsty had a chance to wonder if death might not be easier than further flight. Then Frank raised his arm toward her, unfurled his fist and said: "Give it to me." He wanted his keepsake, it seemed. But she had no intention of relinquishing her only weapon. "No," she said. He made the demand a second time, and there was a distinct anxiety in his tone. It seemed the box was too precious for him to risk taking it by force. "One last time," he said to her. "Then I'll kill you. Give me the box." She weighed the chances. What had she left to lose? "Say please," she said. He regarded her quizzically, a soft growl in his throat. Then, polite as a calculating child, he said, "Please." The word was her cue. She threw the box at the window with all the strength her trembling arm possessed. It sailed past Frank's head, shattering the glass, and disappeared from sight. "No!" he shrieked, and was at the window in a heartbeat. "No! No! No!" She raced to the door, her legs threatening to fail her with every step. Then she was out onto the landing. The stairs almost defeated her, but she clung to the bannister like a geriatric, and made it to the hallway without falling. Above, there was further din. He was calling after her again. But this time she would not be caught. She fled along the hallway to the front door, and flung it open. The day had brightened since she'd first entered the house-a defiant burst of sunlight before evening fell. Squinting against the glare she started down the pathway. There was glass underfoot, and amongst the shards, her weapon. She picked it up, a souvenir of her defiance, and ran. As she reached the street proper, words began to come-a hopeless babble, fragments of things seen and felt. But Lodovico Street was deserted, so she began to run, and kept running until she had put a good distance between her and the bandaged beast. Eventually, wandering on some street she didn't recognize, somebody asked her if she needed help. The little kindness defeated her, for the effort of making some coherent reply to the inquiry was too much, and her exhausted mind lost its hold on the light. | | |
| 9
- 23.11.2018 - 21:14
| 7-Имя >прикольно)) | | |
| 10
- 23.11.2018 - 21:16
| И снова слово с позитивным оттенком. Надо за собой понаблюдать. Можно конечно увлечься и начать видеть недостатки и только критиковать. Но получается что слова критики и предложения имеют куда больше пользы чем такие подбадривание и позитив | | |
| 11
- 23.11.2018 - 21:16
| Цитата:
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| 12
- 23.11.2018 - 21:17
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"What are we going to do?" Julia demanded for the hundredth time. The man in the corner said nothing; nor was there any interpretable sign on his ruin of a face. "What did you want with her anyway?" she asked him. "You've spoiled everything." "Spoiled?" said the monster. "You don't know the meaning of spoiled. " She swallowed her anger. His brooding unnerved her. "We have to leave, Frank," she said, softening her tone. He threw a look across at her, white-hot. "They'll come looking," she said. "She'll tell them everything." "Maybe..." "Don't you care?" she demanded. The bandaged lump shrugged. "Yes," he said. "Of course. But we can't leave, sweetheart." Sweetheart. The word mocked them both, a breath of sentiment in a room that had known only pain. "I can't face the world like this." He gestured to his face. "Can I?" he said, staring up at her. "Look at me." She looked. "Can I?" No. "No." He went back to perusing the floor. "I need a skin, Julia." "A skin?" "Then, maybe...maybe we can go dancing together. Isn't that what you want?" He spoke of both dancing and death with equal nonchalance, as though one carried as little significance as the other. It calmed her, hearing him talk that way. "How?" she said at last. Meaning, how can a skin be stolen, but also, how will our sanity survive? "There are ways," said the flayed face, and blew her a kiss. | | |
| 13
- 23.11.2018 - 21:17
| 10-Tucshka > ты не понимаешь разницы между гадостями и критикой, пусть даже неконструктивной? | | |
| 14
- 23.11.2018 - 21:19
| 13-Stark >а ты допускает, что человек вкладывает в слова свое отношение, а лживое оно или настоящее выясняется только в минуты жёстких испытаний | | |
| 15
- 23.11.2018 - 21:19
| 13-Stark > а ты - между критикой и критиканством? | | |
| 16
- 23.11.2018 - 21:21
| 13-Stark >неконструктивная критика это то как тебя Адель долбит? А ты стоически терпишь демонстрируя выдержку и спокойствие..я вобще не понимаю в чем смысл неконструктивная критики, хотя и добро-ласковые слова чаще всего все же не уместны ( | | |
| 17
- 23.11.2018 - 21:22
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Rory stood in the hallway and stared at Julia, his Julia, the woman he had once sworn to have and to hold till death did them part. It had not seemed such a difficult promise to keep at the time. He had idolized her for as long as he could remember, dreaming of her by night and spending the days composing love poems of wild ineptitude to her. But things had changed, and he had learned, as he watched them change, that the greatest torments were often the subtlest. There had been times of late when he would have preferred a death by wild horses to the itch of suspicion that had so degraded his joy. Now, as he looked at her standing at the bottom of the stairs, it was impossible for him to even remember how good things had once been. All was doubt and dirt. One thing he was glad of: she looked troubled. Maybe that meant there was a confession in the air, indiscretions that she would pour out and that he would forgive her for in a welter of tears and understanding. "You look sad," he said. She hesitated, then said: "It's difficult, Rory." "What is?" She seemed to want to give up before she began. "What is?" he pressed. "I've so much to tell you." Her hand, he saw, was grasping the banister so tightly the knuckles burned white. "I'm listening," he said. He would love her again, if she'd just be honest with him. "Tell me," he said. "I think maybe...maybe it would be easier if I showed you..." she told him, and so saying, led him upstairs. | | |
| 18
- 23.11.2018 - 21:24
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14-Tucshka > в любом случае, можно культурно объяснять своё отношение. И далеко не любой высказывание имеет ценность. 15-Имя > "Придирчивая, но поверхностная и огульная критика." Мы в интернете, не забывай, гугл и вики всем доступны:) Опять же, обрати внимание, что я писал слово "неконструктивная" в смысле критики, а ты переформулировала то, что я сказал и назад мне закинула, зачем?:) | | |
| 19
- 23.11.2018 - 21:26
| 18-Stark > извини, я слишком поверхностна. У каждого свой недостаток) | | |
| 20
- 23.11.2018 - 21:27
| Ладно товарищи тему щас спамер окончательно добьет, пойду я голос смотреть | | |
| 21
- 23.11.2018 - 21:28
| 17-r84gt > это "Восставший из ада" Клайва Баркера, зачем это здесь? о.о | | |
| Модератор 22
- 23.11.2018 - 21:30
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16-Tucshka > Конструктивная критика: Ты поправилась. Тебе стоит похудеть, чтобы опять надеть то изящное лиловое платье. Неконструктивная критика: Ты просто омерзительная жирная толстенная заплывшая корова. Я возьму у тебя немного соли? У меня закончилась. | | |
| 23
- 23.11.2018 - 21:32
| 22-AdelDiamond > конструктив - ты поправилась, пойдём купим тебе новое платье)) | | |
| 24
- 23.11.2018 - 21:33
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это "Восставший из ада" Клайва Баркера, зачем это здесь? о.о -- приятно..общаться...с образованным персонажем) | | |
| Модератор 25
- 23.11.2018 - 21:34
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23-Имя > | | |
| 26
- 23.11.2018 - 21:35
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Очень жирно. Туча тролль. Только тему надо было называть УПОРОТЫЙ ЛИС -- ясное дело..эта тварь.....накопиздила в эзотерику ериси..притащилась сюда....с девчатками перекинуца..а здесь животных не ждали....вот она и потявкивает | | |
| 27
- 23.11.2018 - 21:38
| 25-AdelDiamond > все любят фоткаться)) | | |
| 28
- 23.11.2018 - 22:01
| 0-Tucshka >Можно просто говорить правду. Ну или промолчать, если не хочешь обидеть | | |
| 29
- 23.11.2018 - 23:14
| 0-Tucshka > льстец, дипломат, пацифист - это три разных человека. Есть ещё ипанутые оптимисты-человеколюбы. Ты из каких будешь? | | |
| 30
- 24.11.2018 - 10:08
| Максимка любя гадости выдаёт. Хуже, когда хотели бы сказать гадость, но льстят. | | |
| 31
- 24.11.2018 - 10:44
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"Нас не забанить", он же Максим, вообще здесь самый безобидный и беззлобный персонаж. Скорее, бойтесь данайцев дары приносящих, как говорится. По моим наблюдениям, излишне въедливые своим подмахиванием люди, как правило с двойным дном. | | |
| Модератор 32
- 24.11.2018 - 10:57
| Вы все гавно.. А нет.. Вы все солнышки и золотцы... Стоп.. Чот я запутался - что надо писать тут? | | |
| 33
- 24.11.2018 - 12:35
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32-NoThanks >вот. Та же фигня) Когда человек непременно критикует, он как бы направляет в русло и это считается в общественном сознании нашем нормально, а если только хвалит то ему пофиг и он так откупается или таким лёгким способом пытается манипулировать..так мне пояснили. | | |
| 34
- 24.11.2018 - 12:38
| 32-NoThanks >то есть я не должна открыто выражать слова одобрения и поддержки здесь ( некоторые мне в реале не знакомы а я им слова добрые пишу, это как бы плохо) а непременно надо выразить слова критики и порицания так как это хорошо..ну как-то так | |
Интернет-форум Краснодарского края и Краснодара |
