feminism's

healthy practice in feminine

that the vehicle is repaired. So I am also obliged to pay attention to

she. I check Jesus. Good God, my God, life is like a toy, someone

someone loves it, someone exhausts it, someone hates it, someone plays excessively and the

break. Would it be a good idea if I break mine too? Do I reserve myself

the possibility of doing so? Do I have a commitment to live and do we owe our lives to

another person? Maybe to the young people until they grow up? Also, it

seems to answer: Life is a game, but we must know the means. If we

If we did not learn them in time, we must not escape from the vehicle.

We realize that the vehicle is controlled by striking and courageous people,

impetuous and discourteous, and not timid and miserable, good and lawful, whose

knees tremble even at a terrible sight. Moreover, believe me, the point of no-

return is never exceeded for another game. Moreover, when you get familiar-

you will play the real game. Baba Julka returned discreetly,

as she had left. "Come on, clean up and wash yourself." Go ahead without any complexes. ",, I

washed an hour before. I just cleaned. "Okay, clean, then wash yourself." That

is going on with her? What does she often think about my laundry? She used to do the me-

swims in a small toilet with a nice mirror. She had never seen a face

as reasonable in the mirror before. Maybe she wasn't looking at herself

herself, but rather towards someone actually living nearby. Each

pore must be visible. It is not an advantage. She would not trade her old one,

slightly hazy, against this one. Think, maybe that's what it looks like

the mirror, through which Alice passed and went to Wonderland. Believe

that his hand will pass through it and come into contact with his own face, much

clearer and brighter.,, Here, I'll put the water here and wash you. After this water,

don't wash yourself with ANOTHER." He put down a plastic bowl and a napkin-

This pinkish-white, bowl-like dish on the washer. Don't disturb it. To com-

begin, I drank this particular tea, at his request. Now I will wash myself, al-

days for his well-being, with the aim that this does not happen again. It is strange

that he carries water, while there is a tap in the toilet. And then comes

amazement. In the bowl - botanical water, as she would later call it.

A petal full of bright and varied wildflowers. Indeed, even the stems are

split. Petals on waterfowl. Dance of flowers on water. She is not or-

dinary. What kind of water is this? What does it accomplish? By the way,

she washed and cleaned her face with a perfumed towel. He wipes himself

with another person's towel, which isn't particularly clever.

As if she had guessed what she was thinking, she spoke from the kitchen: >>