Local want sex personals

Inspiration and Encouragement Im from New Jersey, but have lived in Atlanta for a long time. I have a sister that lives in Boston. I still love the "northern ladies,"
especially the ones with the sexy Boston accent! Well, Im sure that the wonderful women of the Boston area could use a little inspiration, so here goes. Enjoy, and remember the words of the Dali Lama.
"Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible."
A smile cost nothing, but gives so much. It enriches those who receive it, without making poorer those who give. It takes but a moment, but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever. None is so or mighty that he can get along without it, and none is so poor that he can be made by it. A smile creates happiness in the home, fosters goodwill in business, and is the countersign of friendship. It brings rest to the weary, cheer to the discouraged, sunshine to the sad, and it is natures best antidote for trouble. Yet it cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is something that is of no value to anyone until it is given away. Some people are too tired to give you a smile. Give them one of yours, as nobody needs a smile so much, as he who has no more to give. 😉

Its all a matter of perspective
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that werent enough to ruin my day,
A boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement,
"Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat by my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise,
"It sure smells and its beautiful too.
Thats why I picked it; here, its for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see, he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver, tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
"Youre welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact hed had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see,
A self-pitying man beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, hed been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind , at last I could see
The problem was not with the world, the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to appreciate every second thats mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that boy, another weed in hand,
About to change the life of another unsuspecting man.