Character: Damon Salvatore

They renounce not only people, events, things, but also immediate emotions in order to climb into the inner fortress, raise a bridge and never let others come to them again. Protect yourself by means of insulation. To protect yourself by turning yourself into a biorobot, voluntarily crushing natural needs. It's spiritual fencing. That's just the attacker and the opponent you yourself.

There is nothing worse than seeing that the person dear to you is bad, and you cannot do anything. Powerlessness kills, ripping piece by piece from your heart and soul. You would like to turn mountains, swim the oceans just to help, but sometimes even heroic deeds are not able to give liberation, change the course of personal history, delete disliked chapters from the family chronicle. You stay with yourself, biting your lips in confusion or nervously wringing your fingers, painfully realizing (and childishly refusing to humble yourself) that you are not God. And many things are beyond your control.

Now from all sides: in every magazine, newspaper or page on a social network, they are encouraged to engage in psychological self-development, but this is tantamount to putting a person at the helm of a faulty aircraft and pulling into a vertical dive - no matter how diligently pulling the levers according to the instructions, the broken unit is not able stop falling. First, maintenance by qualified specialists is required, and then you can start practice. But for some reason, in the minds of the majority, the idea runs that the book can break down internal barriers and replace the art of fishing for repressed emotions, which psychoanalysts have been studying for years. Of course, some really manage to get to the deep motives, fears, but they often become their victims, powerless to repel attacks. At best, as a result of clumsy getting rid of illusions, trying to get out of the pit of delusions, they get nervousness, a progressive obsessive state, and at worst, finally desperate, they dare to commit suicide.

Each of us can only try to convey our wisdom to others, but how they dispose of it, we no longer have the power to control. Sometimes wisdom sinks into the ground. Alas, everything in this life is fixated on repetition, no one looks at their feet, only when they step on a rake, they begin to look around and remember the advice of the older generation. Human stupidity and pride? May be. Do not know. Parents, especially those who have carried the burdens of life on their shoulders, cherish the dream that their children, seeing an example in front of them, will learn a lot. However, unfortunately, young people rarely endure lessons: they want more, better, and most importantly - as quickly as possible. They have no patience, so the very first collapse of a dream turns into a real shock for them, disfiguring the psyche and killing the thirst for life. As well as the easy finding of what you want. It is not for nothing that it is forbidden to help the butterfly get out of the cocoon, but if nature knows how to keep the golden mean, then people cannot boast of this.

If from the very beginning you do not meet expectations, no one will pin high hopes on you, then in the future you will not disappoint anyone.

Say what you like, but we all love and value much more what we had to fight for than what we got by accident.

Life is never-ending military action, differing only in the scale of operations.

Twenty-first century in the yard! No tenderness, otherwise they will be attributed to the gomics. There is just no friendly sympathy even between guys: instantly begin to dress homosexuals.

to be. A universal answer to everything.

We live in a world that consists of consequences. It's time to admit this, not repeat: "Perhaps everything would have been different"...

- Can you throw it away? I asked, nodding at the dirty jacket. Now I had no time to mess with her. - Please.
"No," Lovitt said somewhat sullenly. - I'll keep it as a stuffed animal, a trophy. I will nail it to the wall and, looking at it, I will feel the pride of the hunter. After all, who else has a jacket-skin of Damon Salvatore himself?
Taking a step forward and leaning over, I almost touched her nose with my tip and spoke, looking into her eyes:
- It's dangerous to joke with me. Look how your skin doesn't become my wall trophy.

Fall asleep, brother, fall asleep... and not that eyes sewn!

My breathing stopped.
My heart started beating after a time.
A red veil appeared before my eyes.
Unusual, but still cozy apartment of my mother instantly turned into a cave in which the presence of a dragon was felt. My father's angry laughter swept through my mind.
The bag slid off his shoulder and fell to the floor with a deafening knock.
Bank... Robbers...
"By the way," I remembered my words said not so long ago to my mother, "tomorrow go to the bank, I sent you money, plus a small gift."
I KILLED MY MOM!
You can say a million times that I am not to blame and could not know that this event will happen. But that won't change the fact that I was the one who did everything I could to get Lilien in the bank. It was me, sending the money and insisting that she get it as soon as possible, twisting my mother's world. I, like a roulette player, made a bet, but other numbers fell out. A different color.
Again, I caused my mom's trouble. Nobody, and again me. Eternal-problem-Damon!
"How I hate you, degenerate! - I remembered Giuseppe's poisonous words. - If you were a sloop... I wouldn't have to drag that load through life!"
Maybe my father was right? I used to blame Giuseppe, but now he is no longer alive, and my mother's problems periodically appear. Because of me...
It can be argued that no one is immune from problems, but for some reason it was I, then still a small cell, who grabbed the uterus, fighting for my life, thereby pulling a terrible chain reaction ... Some trouble I have a body. Face. Name.