Book: Hunting sheep

So, until you start completely drowning, the saving rope will not be thrown, so what?

None of the human feelings known to me were contained in this look.

The new game, according to the new rules, has already begun. No one can stop it.

I don’t know which of the people needs to die for me to yearn so much ...

No one needs me - and no one hopes that I may be needed.

If anything can be thrown out of my current life, it's just me.

On the one hand, I feel that this is where I should have been brought in in the end; on the other hand, it seems as if all my way to here I have sailed "against the current".

Or maybe I just mistakenly opened the wrong door and wandered somewhere wrong - but too far to step back. And if you made a mistake with the door, so at least behave decently.

Yes, we litter the world with meaningless words. Well, where did you see them - words that would make sense? ..

Everyone wants to escape from boredom, I want to get into this boredom deeper.

The silence of the stone, falling in a bottomless pit, was my answer. A good thirty seconds passed before the stone finally reached the bottom of something.

With a peculiar smile, as if showing the portrait of an only son, the head waiter turned the bottle label to me. I nodded to him and he took out the cork with a barely audible, caressing the ear with a click, poured wine into his throat drink. I felt the language of the concentrated flavor of money.

Only the mediocrity of all the paths, selects the longest...

I weakness my love. I love it when the soul hurts, when it's hard... As the summer sun was hot as the wind smells like cicadas chirping and all that... like Scary as hell. You drink a beer...