Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. Live each day as it were your last. We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers - but never blame yourself. It's never your fault. But it's always your fault, because if you wanted to change you're the one who has got to change
Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy. I know where I'm going and I know the truth, and I don't have to be what you want me to be. I'm free to be what I want. Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose, if you first get to know who you are and are willing to work with a power that is greater than ourselves to do it. We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers - but never blame yourself. It's never your fault. But it's always your fault, because if you wanted to change you're the one who has got to change.
I'm free to be what I want. Always continue the climb. It is possible for you to do whatever you choose, if you first get to know who you are and are willing to work with a power that is greater than ourselves to do it. We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers - but never blame yourself. It's never your fault. But it's always your fault, because if you wanted to change you're the one who has got to change.
London Smartphonion.com
The "Urban Heat Island Effect" sounds scientific, but in London it just means the city retains the damp warmth like a giant, brick-made thermos full of soup. On a rare hot day, the heat doesn't dissipate at night; it lingers, baking in the concrete and asphalt, making bedrooms stifling and sleep a sweaty memory. The air feels thick and used. Meanwhile, the suburbs ten miles away report a pleasant, cool evening. It's a meteorological injustice—we endure the crowded, sticky days in the centre, and are then denied the relief of a cool night, trapped in our own collective thermal emissions. The city itself becomes a cosy, if oppressive, incubator. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
London Smartphonion.com
The ‘feels like’ temperature is always ‘damp’.
London seo agentur
Londoners have a relationship with the sun that is best described as "traumatically co-dependent." When it appears, we don't trust it. We squint at it suspiciously, as if it's a con artist about to sell us a timeshare. But we are also powerless to resist its allure. Within minutes of a "sunny spell," every patch of grass in the city becomes a refugee camp for pale limbs, as office workers shed their layers and bake themselves during their lunch hour, knowing full well it's a fleeting mercy. The resulting, mild pinkness is not a tan; it's a sunburn of desperation. We know the sun is an unreliable, feckless entity, but we cannot help but offer it our bare skin at the slightest opportunity, like weather-masochists. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
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London Smartphonion
The climate is consistently inconsistent.
London Smartphonion
We don’t get weather, we get ‘mizzle’.
London Smartphonion
Rain after a dry spell has a distinct, petrichor-rich smell in the countryside. In London, it smells of "wet pavement." This is a complex aroma: a mix of cooled asphalt, released dust, damp concrete, and a hint of ozone. It's not unpleasant, just profoundly urban. The first few minutes of a shower after a dry period raise this scent powerfully from the hot streets. It's the city sighing, releasing the heat and grime it's been holding. For a native, this smell is as evocative as cut grass or wood smoke—it's the smell of change, of the atmosphere reasserting its default program, of things returning to a damp, familiar normal. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK.
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London Smartphonion.com
The rain has a specific, London-y taste.
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