I had, of course, not looked at her specifically when I talked to the group about Rilke’s caged Panther.On the surface, the poem is a realistic desc...ription of a zoo animal. It is, however, foremost a brilliant metaphor. Through the sensuousness of the poem’s rhythm and choice of words, the Panther circling around itself behind bars becomes in all its vitality and beauty a picture of caged desires. I had not been too specific on the libido and its frustration with a teacher’s fatherly eye on my,. And I'm sure her skin was on fire, the bright red looked like a bad sunburn. The uneven pattern might be identified as paddle marks by someone who recognized them. Anyone else would just thing "poor girl has splotchy skin."We walked to the strip clubs at the corner of Broadway and Columbus. Daisy was cramping badly from the ice inside her and brown-tinged water was dripping down the inside of her legs. I made her stop several times to look in store windows, enjoying her shame as the pool of. I was in kitchen then Begamsab came in kitchen asked me that today we are going to make a special dish which probably need me her help. She gave me instruction to turnout some spices and utensils. She told me that when I prepared this then calls her. I did as she instructed and called her after half in hour. She came to kitchen. We started to make the dish she was giving me instruction, which I followed. She was busy to re arrange the kitchen utensils but she was thoroughly observing me. Or why. I just know that the website where you posted your diary and the one where I had mine seem to have linked our existences. It's like a portal has opened between our two worlds. I have been able to see into your world. I saw you spill your coffee. I'm sorry I startled you, but I needed to get your attention properly. Let's IM."Chantal didn't want to IM. This disturbed her and she didn't feel ready. Who was this person and how did she know about the coffee? As she pondered this she looked.