Book: Gem

The full moon shamelessly basked on the surface of the sea.

Time has gone so far.

I wanted to merge with her, to enter into her blood and flesh - and I could not.

But this was not enough for me, I desperately longed to own her even more, even more completely. But as soon as I let her go, we again became two people, two different people.

People are always alone. Also love the flight. The blood did not give the answer - give only a sense of security.

For a long time she did not linger nowhere not liked to get used to. Habit entailed obligations, tied to the details and spoil the unity of the whole. And she wanted it whole.

Gem entirely devoted to the play of light and colors, enjoying the soaring harmony of this spiritual life. She loved these small daily episodes and know how great is their impact. In them, as if taken from the law of cause and effect, had no desires, no aspirations. They were like an unexpected gift - and always by surprise, and sometimes seemed to glow of pure beauty, so far beyond them disappeared for a reason. This multifaceted glow in front of the mirror was almost a miracle, so touching it is a preparation heart. What an unreal and unearthly seemed the harmony of these deep Sunny colors. What the painter is able to convey all the magic of muted reflection in the mirror!

We perceive only ourselves, and because of that love sensation, yeah, of course... But isn't that better than living in a musty feelings of the era that we do not fit? We are fascinated by the speed, not duration. We are disciplined to perfection, but because we love bouncy, playful, shimmering, uncertain, dancing, love juggling all of the concepts, a delicate balance over the abyss, love is unpredictable, unreasonable, violent, and banal, too, but with fine delicate shiver of awareness - how wonderful to be primitive, banal with all my heart, how we love, unsentimental, to be sentimental, beyond measure...

Then the night was fully come into his own and done what day could make was enough for the heart.

There is nothing permanent except change.

Love - here the sharpest knowledge. She seeks to win another. And wins, getting into it. She - overflow, overflow over the edge, until you are filled with the waters of the other. And they are not filled with his waters.

But the most difficult thing - to know the hour of parting, and go through it. Because otherwise it would have been then the flour, and debris, and misfortune... who, knowing the appointed hour, walking towards him, the little things of everyday life delivers from death. And what is good to resist - I let you go... and if I didn't, you still leave tomorrow... do Not deprive me of the right to the gesture, the only... and last...

Man overcomes only what he knows. And that, you know, there's no danger. It can burden you, but to destroy is not capable, because our breath penetrates into the pores and slowly pulls him to us. Conquest is forever going exactly, because it is a metamorphosis... otherwise it would be only a temporary change order. Who takes on goal, without this response gains, and a lever for her osuschestveleniya. But who only idly holds the lever once and die from it. Only the unknown is dangerous, because it is alien and nothing is connected.

... To talk about something means to leave it in the past.