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And my fertile land, sprinkled with the blood of the enemy, will flourish and give peace and harmony to all.
Self-portrait "Blossom" 🌿
The tastes of people are very diverse, the characters are capricious,
their nature is most ungrateful, their judgments reach complete absurdity. Therefore, those who enjoy themselves happily and cheerfully seem to feel somewhat happier than those who torment themselves.
worries about the publication of something that one can benefit or pleasure, while others will disgust or ingratitude.
Amatophobia / Conyophobia - fear of dust.
Everything that is done by people, good or bad, all this eventually turns into dust; but the main difficulty is to open people's eyes before everything becomes perishable. To touch their feelings and crush hearts is easy, it's much harder to crush their minds.
The past, polished to a shine, seems like, those familiar melodies, looming in the distance, sometimes appearing before the eyes, then disappearing again. Those days are full of laughter, touches, events, images and people, seem so far away and at the same time so close.
The native house, already almost erased in the fresh memory, but rooted in once experienced feelings, distant distant but sharp as a blade.
I’ll be back, I’ll be back someday.
There is a judgment that everything in our life is predetermined by fate, but after all, each of us has a hundred choices every day, and there are no good or bad ones.
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It's just that each of them creates another life, another unique world, it is akin to an alternative branch of reality, which becomes the main one, based on our choice.
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Every life deserves to live it,
every path - to be traversed.
Rebellion is a state of mind. Rebellion is life, actually. And I'm not striving for some final goal. It cannot be. It has to be better all the time. This is, say, movement towards the horizon. Every time a new horizon, a new horizon, a new horizon. That is, life is a constant overcoming, overcoming inertia. Because at each stage, new tasks will arise, and then, of course, they will have to be solved anew, etc. That is, rebellion is simply a state of consciousness, of life.
Rebellion is a state of mind. Rebellion is life, actually. And I'm not striving for some final goal. It cannot be. It has to be better all the time. This is, say, movement towards the horizon. Every time a new horizon, a new horizon, a new horizon. That is, life is a constant overcoming, overcoming inertia. Because at each stage, new tasks will arise, and then, of course, they will have to be solved anew, etc. That is, rebellion is simply a state of consciousness, of life.
«So, we have an obvious face, and an apple that hides the visible but hidden face of a person. It happens all the time. Everything we see hides something else, and we always want to see what is hidden by what we see. This interest can take the form of a rather intense feeling, a kind of conflict between the visible, which is hidden, and the visible, which is presented.»
Everything that happens in this world is a war between life, creativity, and entropy, death.
Everything we do is to defend, to defend, that is, we are not attempting more now, because we are now in a terrible situation.
We are, I think in general, humanity is on the verge of extinction. And the conversation needs to be about survival, defending, defending life as a principle of creativity.
And creativity is like a revolution for me.
Because any creativity is a revolution, an overcoming of death and inertia.
Equipoise. Selfportrait
Hush child , darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep.
The past, polished to a shine, seems like, those familiar melodies, looming in the distance, sometimes appearing before the eyes, then disappearing again. Those days are full of laughter, touches, events, images and people, seem so far away and at the same time so close.
The native house, already almost erased in the fresh memory, but rooted in once experienced feelings, distant distant but sharp as a blade.
I’ll be back, I’ll be back someday.
Home is not just some city or building, rather it is a certain person who becomes our reason to stay. Home is the person who gives you this feeling.
Home is a place where you are needed, loved and appreciated. A place where they are ready to accept and even love all your shortcomings. I think that a house is a person. The person who makes you happiest in the world.
Your home is where this person is.
Home is a person who will always look at you with love.
This is the person who holds your hand at a time when you feel like you are at a dead end and don't know what to do next. He is next to you and does not go anywhere.
Home is when you feel that there is something in it and in you that makes you both the closest people on Earth, but you don’t know what it is. Home is the person whose touch heals you.
Home is a person with whom you share one happiness.
When you find this person and try to describe your definition of home, those people who have not yet experienced it simply will not understand you.
I hope you find someone who will make your home. Good luck
Since childhood, we have been surrounded by fairy tales and stories, legends and traditions, but as soon as we grow up they simply evaporate, leaving no trace.
And only the elite see and feel legends and tales in adulthood, it is like an elixir of happiness in a multifaceted complex adult world.
Each person has many faces. People change when they meet other people. If you have met someone, you have already changed, you have become someone else. People need each other, for this is the only proof that they exist.
A dream in the twilight city.
The gift of sinking into oblivion is a gift of survival. I lowered my head to the pillow, and a blessed, sleep-curing dream plunged me into many fathoms into its depths. You know, dreams, as one my friend in some way familiar, is in general like ... "clouds floating in a night window".