Adonis Diaries

Posts Tagged ‘David Foster Wallace

 

Bird by Bird: Anne Lamott’s Advice on

Writing and Why Perfectionism Kills Creativity

by

“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life.”

Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (public library) is among my 10 favorite books on writing — a treasure trove of insight both practical and profound, timelessly revisitable and yielding deeper resonance each time.

Lamott adds to the collected wisdom of great writers with equal parts candor and conviction, teaching us as much about writing as she does about creativity at large and, even beyond that, about being human and living a full life — because as Lamott notes in the beginning, writing is nothing more nor less than a sense-making mechanism for life:

One of the gifts of being a writer is that it gives you an excuse to do things, to go places and explore. Another is that writing motivates you to look closely at life, at life as it lurches by and tramps around.

What makes Lamott so compelling is that all of her advice comes not from the ivory tower of the pantheon but from an honest place of exquisite vulnerability and hard-earned life-wisdom.

She recounts her formative years and where she headed once she encountered that inevitable fork in the road where we can choose between being shut in and shut down by our traumatic experiences, or using them as fertile clay for character-building:

I started writing when I was seven or eight. I was very shy and strange-looking, loved reading above everything else, weighed about 40 pounds at the time, and was so tense that I walked around with my shoulders up to my ears, like Richard Nixon.

I saw a home movie once of a birthday party I went to in the first grade, with all these cute little boys and girls playing together like puppies, and all of a sudden I scuttled across the screen like Prufrock’s crab.

I was very clearly the one who was going to grow up to be a serial killer, or keep dozens and dozens of cats. Instead, I got funny. I got funny because boys, older boys I didn’t even know, would ride by on their bicycles and taunt me about my weird looks. Each time felt like a drive-by shooting. I think this is why I walked like Nixon: I think I was trying to plug my ears with my shoulders, but they wouldn’t quite reach. So first I got funny and then I started to write, although I did not always write funny things.

[…]

All I ever wanted was to belong, to wear that hat of belonging.

In seventh and eighth grades I still weighed about forty pounds. I was twelve years old and had been getting teased about my strange looks for most of my life. This is a difficult country to look too different in — the United States of Advertising, as Paul Krassner puts it — and if you are too skinny or too tall or dark or weird or short or frizzy or homely or poor or nearsighted, you get crucified. I did.

So she found refuge in books, searching for “some sort of creative or spiritual or aesthetic way of seeing the world and organizing it in [her] head.” To find that, she became a writer and began fantasizing about getting published, about “the thrill of seeing oneself in print,” as the highest form of existential validation.

When Lamott published her first book, she awaited the affirming grandeur of public approval and secretly thought that “trumpets would blare, major reviewers would proclaim that not since Moby Dick had an American novel so captured life in all of its dizzying complexity.”

Of course, none of this happened — not with the first book, nor the second or third or fourth or fifth. Instead, what Lamott found was a deeper kind of reward — that sensation “unmerited grace” that Annie Dillard so eloquently captured in her timeless meditation on the writing life. Lamott echoes Ray Bradbury on rejection and reflects:

I still encourage anyone who feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all that it is cracked up to be. But writing is. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do — the actual act of writing — turns out to be the best part. It’s like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward.

[…]

I tell my students that the odds of their getting published and of it bringing them financial security, peace of mind, and even joy are probably not that great. Ruin, hysteria, bad skin, unsightly tics, ugly financial problems, maybe; but probably not peace of mind. I tell them that I think they ought to write anyway.

But, one might wonder, why? Lamott answers beautifully:

My writer friends, and they are legion, do not go around beaming with quiet feelings of contentment. Most of them go around with haunted, abused, surprised looks on their faces, like lab dogs on whom very personal deodorant sprays have been tested.

But I also tell [my students] that sometimes when my writer friends are working, they feel better and more alive than they do at any other time. And sometimes when they are writing well, they feel that they are living up to something. It is as if the right words, the true words, are already inside them, and they just want to help them get out. Writing this way is a little like milking a cow: the milk is so rich and delicious, and the cow is so glad you did it.

For her, the essence of writing is about something simple, something immutable about being human:

Good writing is about telling the truth. We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are.

[…]

Hope, as Chesterton said, is the power of being cheerful in circumstances that we know to be desperate. Writing can be a pretty desperate endeavor, because it is about some of our deepest needs: our need to be visible, to be heard, our need to make sense of our lives, to wake up and grow and belong.

At the heart of writing, Lamott argues, lies a capacity for quiet grit and a willingness to decondition the all too human tendency to get so overwhelmed by the enormity of the journey that we’re too paralyzed to take the first step.

She recounts this wonderful anecdote, after which the book is titled:

Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he’d had three months to write, which was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother’s shoulder, and said, “Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.”

In this bird-by-bird approach to writing, there is no room for perfectionism. (Neil Gaiman famously advised, “Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving.”, and David Foster Wallace admonished, “If your fidelity to perfectionism is too high, you never do anything.”) Lamott cautions:

Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft.

[…]

Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist’s true friend. What people somehow (inadvertently, I’m sure) forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here — and, by extension, what we’re supposed to be writing.

Lamott echoes Susan Sontag (“That’s what a writer does — a writer pays attention to the world.” and offers a beautiful definition of what it means to be a writer:

Writing is about learning to pay attention and to communicate what is going on.

[…]

The writer is a person who is standing apart, like the cheese in “The Farmer in the Dell” standing there alone but deciding to take a few notes. You’re outside, but you can see things up close through your binoculars.

Your job is to present clearly your viewpoint, your line of vision. Your job is to see people as they really are, and to do this, you have to know who you are in the most compassionate possible sense. Then you can recognize others.

In a sentiment reminiscent of E. B. White’s timeless words on the responsibility of the writer, Lamott considers the core of being a writer:

To be a good writer, you not only have to write a great deal but you have to care. You do not have to have a complicated moral philosophy. But a writer always tries, I think, to be a part of the solution, to understand a little about life and to pass this on.

That is, one needs to have a moral position.

I myself have long believed that the role of a great writer — or editor, or “curator,” or any other custodian of cultural values — is to frame for people what matters in the world and why.

George Eliot famously observed, “What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?” — a notion Lamott considers in the context of that necessary moral position:

As we live, we begin to discover what helps in life and what hurts, and our characters act this out dramatically. This is moral material. … A moral position is a passionate caring inside you. We are all in danger now and have a new everything to face, and there is no point gathering an audience and demanding its attention unless you have something to say that is important and constructive. My friend Carpenter says we no longer need Chicken Little to tell us the sky is falling, because it already has. The issue now is how to take care of one another.

She finds in writing what Carl Sagan found in science — profound awe, deep reverence, a source of spiritual elevation:

In order to be a writer, you have to learn to be reverent. If not, why are you writing? Why are you here? … Think of reverence as awe, as presence in and openness to the world.

Think of those times when you’ve read prose or poetry that is presented in such a way that you have a fleeting sense of being startled by beauty or insight, by a glimpse into someone’s soul. All of a sudden everything seems to fit together or at least to have some meaning for a moment.

This is our goal as writers, I think; to help others have this sense of wonder, of seeing things anew, things that can catch us off guard, that break in on our small, bordered worlds. When this happens, everything feels more spacious.

[…]

There is ecstasy in paying attention. You can get into a kind of Wordsworthian openness to the world, where you see in everything the essence of holiness. . .

Most of all, however, Lamott sees in writing not a selfish act of personal gratification but an act of warm generosity — which is, after all, what drives all of us who wake up in the morning to put something we love into the world and go to bed at night glad that we did:

If you give freely, there will always be more. … It is one of the greatest feelings known to humans, the feeling of being the host, of hosting people, of being the person to whom they come for food and drink and company. This is what the writer has to offer.

This mutual gratification is where the mesmerism of literature lies:

Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored.

We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It’s like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can’t stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.

Bird by Bird is an absolute must-read, and must-reread, in its entirety. Complement it with Annie Dillard on writing, which inspired Lamott, and Dani Shapiro on the pleasures and perils of the creative life, which was inspired by Lamott.

For more notable advice on writing, see Elmore Leonard’s 10 rules of writing, Walter Benjamin’s thirteen doctrines, H. P. Lovecraft’s advice to aspiring writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s letter to his daughter, Zadie Smith’s 10 rules of writing, David Ogilvy’s 10 no-bullshit tips, Henry Miller’s 11 commandments, Jack Kerouac’s 30 beliefs and techniques, John Steinbeck’s 6 pointers, and Susan Sontag’s synthesized learnings.

“Did not have choice or free will”? Phillip Seymour Hoffman 

What these people have in common with Phillip Seymour Hoffman (deceased-drug addiction)?

Actor Cory Monteith (deceased-drug addiction), singer Amy Winehouse (deceased-alcoholism), author David Foster Wallace (deceased-depression), actor Jon Hamm (depression), TV personality Nicole Richie (anorexia), actress Karla Alvarez (deceased-anorexia/bulimia), actress Amanda Byne (bi-polar disorder), actor Howie Mandel (ocd) , reality TV star Vinnie Guadagnino (anxiety disorder),  actress Brooke Shields (postpartum depression)?

In the wake of the tragic loss of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, a great artist, partner, father, brother, and son, I offer the following facts about the neurological disease of addiction.

The overwhelming majority of adults in the western world have passed through experimental stages in their lives where they have dabbled with some kind of brain altering addictive substance, i.e., cigarettes, alcohol, prescription pain killers, ADHD medication, anti-anxiety medication, marijuana (save the ‘it’s not addictive” arguments for later, please).

And the overwhelming majority of these adults will emerge from their experiments unscathed, believing that their free will and good choices are what saved them from becoming addicted.

The problem with this thinking is that it is factually incorrect, and all wrong.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman 1967-2014

Phillip Seymour Hoffman 1967-2014

debbie bayer blog

debbie bayer blog (selected as one of the top post today Feb. 3, 2014)

Phillip Seymour Hoffman did not have choice or free will and neither do you.

What saved the adults from becoming addicted is that their brains did not respond in the same way that an addict’s brain does. They were born with a resistance to addiction. Their free will and good choices had nothing to do with it.

It is time for all of us who got through unscathed to stop patting ourselves on the back for our genetic good luck, and it is time to stop judging those who were not born with the same good genes as defective.

About Phillip Seymour Hoffman, a relapsing drug addict, you may have had the thoughts, “He knew better.” or “Shame on him for throwing his life away.”

Let’s look at these ideas through the lens of how the brain actually works.

Phillip Seymour  “knew better.

He ‘knew better’ in the frontal lobes of his brain, where we all execute our better judgment and can make calculations of our behaviors and circumstances based on risk and reward.

Here’s the problem.

The activity of our frontal lobes can be shut down by the other parts of our brain when there is significant stress in our body. This comes from what is called the “fight, flight, freeze, or faint” mechanism.

This mechanism in the brain is hard-wired into each of us for survival purposes. It is the part of the brain that puts someone into shock when they have been injured and/or traumatized. It is also the part of the brain that can allow a person to lift a car by themselves if their loved one or someone they care about is in danger.

The brain does not analyze the type of stress it is experiencing, that is, this ‘fight or flight mechanism’ is binary.

The brain functions on a “yes” or “no” basis (a binary reaction as in computer).  ”Yes,” there is enough stress to activate the mechanism or “no,” there is not enough stress to activate the mechanism. Human beings have no control over when this mechanism is activated.

This is how PTSD works.

Seemingly innocuous sights, sounds, smells or sensations trigger this brain mechanism even when there is no actual threat to the person. The stress in the body is not even consciously recognizable to the person with PTSD.

The brain reacts to the trigger and the person is put into the experience of being threatened without choice or control because the frontal lobes cannot get their signals through. When this mechanism is activated, free will and choice become impossible. This is true for each and every human being on the planet, whether we like it or not.

The brain of an addict, Phillip Seymour Hoffman in this case, experiences withdrawal symptoms as stress. And since it operates on a binary system, it does not sort out “good” stress (I’m so sick because I’m kicking heroin-good for me!) from “bad” stress (I’m so sick because I’m kicking heroin I’d better call a doctor).

The brain only knows if the stress is present or not and how much stress is present.

When withdrawal symptoms, i.e., physical distress, anxiety caused by emotional stress, etc. reach a certain point in the brain, the brain automatically cuts off the access to the frontal lobes (in a manner of speaking) and begins to direct the body rebalance the stress, to find equilibrium, so that the brain can return to “normal” functioning.

“Normal” functioning to the brain of an addict is defined as having the addictive substance in the body. So while any relapsing addict “knows better,” the addict literally cannot access the part of his brain where his/her better judgment is stored.

The addict loses his choice and free will and is at the mercy of his brain which is in extreme stress and working to regain it’s equilibrium, at any cost, i.e., get more of the addictive substance.

The idea of losing choice, of relinquishing free will, is unthinkable to most of us, especially those of us fortunate enough to live in the U.S. where we have so many choices in so many areas of our lives.

Also, human consciousness defends heavily against the possibility of ‘no choice’ which is paradoxical considering we each carry a brain mechanism that removes choice, but I digress.

Suffice it to say that according to our brain physiology, choice and no choice are equally important to the survival of the species. The problem is that we humans are only conscious of the importance of choice (and the free will to make those choices).

Over the centuries, mankind has had tremendous difficulty acknowledging and treating brain disorders of all kinds.  And we haven’t made much progress in our supposed “enlightened” age of civil rights either.

Consider this, it was less than 50 years ago that 90+% of those born with Down’s syndrome were institutionalized for life.

Also, in spite of (or maybe because of?) a tremendous increase in the diagnoses of brain disorders in the last 40 years, all but a small percentage of treatment centers and publicly funded programs for treatment have been permanently shut down.

What we have on our hands in the U.S. is a mental health, i.e., brain health, crisis.

This is abundantly clear to us every time someone with a serious brain disorder buys an assault rifle.

Actually, those instances are but the tip of a gigantic iceberg. And even though we have had great breakthroughs in neuroscience, we are woefully lagging behind in treating people who suffer and offering support to their families.

How did this happen?

There are more than a few ways to answer that question.

One of the important answers is that we are naturally defensive against the idea that brain disorders which disconnect us from our free will exist. It’s too frightening an idea to consider, so we come up with stories.

A century or more ago our stories revolved around the idea that the person suffering was possessed by demons, and that these demons ran in the family. Perhaps the person’s mother was possessed? May she was a witch? Someone in that family must have sinned and now they are being punished, etc.

It was stories like these that ran so strongly through our cultures that families up until, well now, actually hid loved ones away in mental institutions and even disavowed knowledge or connection to them in order to avoid the stigma that would be placed on the healthy family members also.

We have made some progress, but as Mr. Hoffman’s death painfully points out, not nearly enough.

We seem to have compassion and some amount of treatment and support available for those who have schizophrenia, psychosis, delusional disorder, autism, and Downs syndrome.  (It’s not nearly enough treatment and support and the families and loved ones of those with these disorders suffer an enormous amount financially, emotionally, and physically with the burden of lifetime care of those who live with these challenges.)

Outside of these few of the many neurological disorders that exist we lose all compassion and concern for people and their families who are suffering, and we tell a modern day version of the demon possession story about them.

We continue to isolate and reject people suffering from a physiological disorder of the brain and force their families and loved ones to bear the lifetime burden of their care in shame and silence, in 2014, in the wealthiest nation the planet has ever known.

Our stories about these people who look so normal, so successful, on the outside but whose lives come crumbling down upon them or are cut ridiculously short no longer revolve around possession by evil spirits but by a defect in their character (selfish, lazy, greedy, arrogant, gluttonous, apathetic, hedonistic, etc.), a defect in their temperament (evil, violent, narcissistic, vain, eccentric, etc.) or a defect in their judgement or intelligence (immature, moron, idiot, being an a**hole).

In the absence of knowledge about how the brain functions these stories created theories about the causes of these behaviors (moral corruption, low character) and consequences which mirrored our cultural value system (it’s their own fault, they got what they deserved).

Out of our stories came ideas on how to avoid these behaviors (work hard, believe in God, be kind to others), consequences of these behaviors (why goes around comes around, God helps those who help themselves) and systems of support to uphold the implementation of these ideas (church, 12 step, therapy).

Sometimes the theories, ideas for correction and the support systems even work, but sadly, not most of the time.

All of the above stories/theories are normal individual and cultural adaptations to the unexplainable. This is how we humans learn and grow.

Gratefully, these days few if any people think a person with a phobia has had a spell cast upon him by a witch and now needs an exorcism while the family and neighbors have to find and lynch the witch.

Neither is a person with an addiction suffering from poor character, temperament, or judgment from which he can be cured with hard work, belief in God, attendance at church, 12 step and therapy. (Hang in there, recovered and recovering 12 steppers. I’m on your side. See ** below.)

What we fail to see is

a) how self-serving these old stories are, and

b) how ineffective our current treatment modalities are (see #a).

Our theories about addiction don’t really exist to explain the illogical behavior of someone who is suffering, but mostly to separate ourselves from that behavior with the assurance that what has happened to that “loser” won’t happen to us.

And when the need to distance ourselves from that “loser” is satisfied we don’t bother to fact check our theories.

Nor to we bother to notice if the treatment schemas we’ve created even work (they don’t).  Rather good proof that our theories are self-serving, don’t you think?

We also fail to notice the fear and sadness that comes up for us when we hear of the tragedies that befall those with high-functioning neurological disorders, especially now.

It’s 2014 and tragedies like the death of Phillip Seymour Hoffman have been happening steadily for 40+ years, with no end and no answer in sight. In light of this kind of repetitive hopelessness we are left with little choice but to blame the victims in order to soothe ourselves.

And it is difficult, if not impossible to create solutions in the presence of hopelessness.

The mental health/brain disorder crisis we are facing right now, this decades-long epidemic, is with the so-called high-functioning neurological disorders, i.e., depression, anxiety, bi-polar, ocd, anorexia, bulimia, and addiction (I have left out more than a few of the disorders, but these are the most familiar of the lot).

However, neuroscience is offering us the best reason to hope for good treatment outcomes in decades. The more we learn about how the brain works (like when the fight/flight mechanism is activated) and how it works when it is “broken” (fight/flight mechanism too easily triggered in addicts) the easier it will be for people who have these brain glitches to be identified and treated without shame and blame.

The first, most effective way to face our cultural crises of too many people with brain disorders being undiagnosed and untreated is to educate ourselves about these disorders and learn to spot the people who are suffering so that we can help them understand what is wrong with them and help them to agree to receive treatment.

We have to change our cultural view of addiction and the like before we can create more effective treatments for it and the other high-functioning neural disorders.

The change has to come from those of us who either do not have the disorders or have been successfully treated for the disorders because those with the disorders are not able to help themselves.

I like to say it this way, the last person to know that his brain is broken is the person with the broken brain.

This is just the way human consciousness works.

The only organ in the body that seems to make self-diagnosis impossible is the brain. I mean there is no mistaking a kidney stone trying to pass. When someone is in that kind of pain they don’t blame it on their lack of character. But the brain is expert at being able to reframe and explain away its own glitches.

Whatever isn’t working in a person’s brain is that person’s “normal.”  Over time people with high-functioning neurological disorders develop plausible explanations for their symptoms and adapt to them as best as they can.

And when life’s problems that are obviously (to those around them) connected to their neurological disorders become apparent on the outside of their lives (car accidents, drained bank accounts, lost jobs, broken marriages, etc.) they usually blame their own character defects or someone or something else.

Therefore, the person with the problem is the least likely to be able to get themselves the help they need.

Here is where the education begins, when otherwise high functioning people think and act in ways that defy facts and logic and threaten their well-being and the well-being of their loved ones, then we need to understand that they have a brain disorder, not a moral or character disorder; and they need medical treatment, not shaming, blaming, therapy or a sentence to a 12 step program.

This means that alcoholism, drug addiction, eating disorders, suicide attempts, phobias, adhd, anxiety and depression, et al are all disorders of the brain and as such need the treatment of a medical doctor first.

(Read that again. It’s a truth, not a theory. But since the truth is not widely known it will seem counter intuitive. You will want to say, “Yeah, but…..”  Read it again. Alcoholism is a brain disorder. Drug addiction is a brain disorder. Let it sink in.)

Here’s why this is true–otherwise high functioning people could not be high functioning without good judgment, good enough character, and at least average intelligence.  If they can hold down a job, go about the activities of daily living, have friendships and loved ones, and display empathy towards others before and during their lapses, melt downs, relapses, et al.,  then their frontal lobes are fully functioning.

The only explanation, for their behaviors then, is that their frontal lobes (where their high-functioning skills are located) have been hijacked by a different part of their brain.  When someone’s brain is highjacking their frontal lobes, they need medical treatment.

Blessedly, neuroscience is catching up with us and giving us facts about how our brains actually work.  So it is time NOW to drop those stories we have made up and begin to apply the facts of neuroscience as we understand them to the untimely deaths of addicts of all kinds and to the public meltdowns of otherwise functioning adults.

And it is way past time that we spread the word about what is really going on with these people who struggle mightily and their families who bear the burden of loving them and having to care for them.

Remember, these people don’t know that their brains are broken.  They are high-functioning and so they blame themselves. And they come to hate themselves for their problems more than you can imagine.  They live in a dark and self-loathing world where they come to believe that they don’t deserve any help which is why they don’t surrender themselves for treatment. They need the help of their friends and families and the world around them in order to get around the obstacles of their broken brains to get help.

When our entire culture understands as common sense that addiction is an individual neurological disorder that requires immediate medical attention then a person like Phillip Seymour Hoffman has a chance to understand that he has “one of those brains” that will shut down his frontal lobes and take away his ability to exercise good judgement and control of his behaviors.  And until he knows this fact about his brain in same the way that he knows a bone sticking out of his leg means he needs to go to the ER, then him and those like him will not be able to ask for help.

And a guy like Phillip Seymour Hoffman isn’t going to know these things until we all know them.  And that time is NOW.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman died from having a combination of sensitivities in his neural wiring that caused his brain to override his better judgement, take away his free will and caused him to take the actions that ultimately killed him.

It appears that these sensitivities were unknowingly activated by a prescription of pain killers that were necessary at the time to treat a different medical condition.  Because of his previous 23 years of being clean and sober he was presumed  safe to take the pain medication. And it looks like what he and maybe even his doctors didn’t know about how his brain worked kept him from staying in treatment long enough to allow his brain to rewire itself around those sensitivities and render him clean and sober again.

For this, like all addicts in this situation, he deserves our kindness and compassion.

If this post has helped you to understand addiction please do share it.  My passion is to help educate us all so that more people with neurological disorders will get the treatment they need.

Debbie Bayer, MA, MFTI

Note to my 12-step friends:  There are two caveats to the success of 12-step work
1) It works when you work it, and
2) You have to be honest, and some people are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves.
There is no doubt that over the last 70+ years the 12-step community has the highest success rate among alcoholics of any other treatment modality. This community is also incredibly successful in the support of sobriety among drug addicts of all kinds.
The problem lies in the millions of people who cannot meet the two criteria for success in a 12-step program due to other types of brain disorders.  Their suffering demands that health professionals continue to seek out effective treatment strategies for them.
I am certain that you have compassion for their plight and support these more unfortunate folks in their recovery.
DB

adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

October 2020
M T W T F S S
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031  

Blog Stats

  • 1,426,809 hits

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.adonisbouh@gmail.com

Join 774 other followers

%d bloggers like this: