Book: We are all creations on the day

When parents die, we always feel vulnerable, not only because we are dealing with a loss, but also because we are faced with our own mortality. When we become orphans, there is no one who would separate us from the grave.

"Embarrassing" is too weak a word. I would say, an embarrassment on a cosmic scale.

It sounds paradoxical, but we're not sad about the loss of those with whom we have been filled with relationship, and the loss of those in a relationship had a lot of frustration and unfinished business.

When I was arguing with my friend Sergei, a leading dancer at the theatre, and later my husband, I wanted to run away, get drunk, find penis, any penis - it is desirable that the owner was a random person and have sex to hurt Sergei and feel better. It's always worked. But not for long. A very short time.

In the moment when you asked the question, my thought was very unusual. It was something posted on an anonymous web site dedicated to different secrets. It read: "I work at Starbucks, and when visitors are rude, I give them decaf".

But words are only notes. These are the ideas that create the melody. These are the ideas that structure our lives.

Reality is not just something that exists in itself, and the fact that pretty much every one of us designs or invents.

In Schopenhauer there is a quote where he compares the passion of love with the blinding sun. When it dims at a later age, we suddenly learn about the wonderful starry sky that was closed or hidden by the sun.

Human relationships aren't endless, but it does not invalidate the fact of their existence in the past.