feelings [Theme] Page 297

If the partner is weaker than us, we find reason to insult him - as a student insulted a student, when she swam too fast.
If the partner is stronger to us remains nothing how to vote any detour vengeance, slap ricocheted, killing through suicide. The boy for so long brings to the violin a fake sound that the teacher does not stand and throws it out the window. The boy falls and the duration of the flight rejoices that the evil teacher is accused of murder.
These are two classic reactions of a person, and if the first reaction often occurs in life lovers and spouses, the second is inherent in the so-called great History of mankind is a countless number of examples of a different order. Probably all of what our teachers called heroism was nothing but a form of litost illustrated by my example of the boy and the teacher in violin.

So, what is litost?
Litost is a painful condition, generated by the form of their own, suddenly discovered misery.
One of the conventional drugs against its own misery - love. For those who are truly in love, the poor can not be. His weakness is redeemed by the magical look of love, which even received a sail sticking above the water surface head becomes charming.
Absolute love is, in fact, the dream of absolute identity requires that the woman swam as slowly as we do, and in no way had her own past, which would be remembered with joy. But as soon as the illusion of absolute identity is falling apart (she happily reminisces about her past or swims quickly), love becomes the only constant source of that great suffering which we call litost.
One who has a deep experience of universal human imperfection, which is relatively protected from impacts of litost. The sight of his misery seemed something mundane and incurious. Litost, so characteristic of the age of inexperience. This is one of the ornaments of youth.
Litost works like a two-stroke motor. For sense of suffering should be revenge. The goal of revenge is to make the partner look as miserable. Let the man not know how to swim, but received a slap in the face woman crying. Therefore, they feel smooth and you can continue to love each other.

The problem is that no one can live, just not expressing the thoughts, feelings and desires. No... It's impossible...

- And you're not going to grow old. Life will not leave your face no trace, she just gently touch it and it will become even more beautiful. One becomes old only when it feels nothing.
- No, when it does not like.

Fate keeps vagrants,
And I was a player
No one to call,
Free and cruel.
I drew a line,
Set fire to the bridges.
I opened the door not the
And there, the guests were not you...

The house is an intimate place, located rather in time than in space. A place where you can feel complete. Place within us, a place where you can nurture thoughts and feelings without fear that we will interfere or tear it up just because our time or attention needed for something else.

It was a very weird feeling, the hug was not Platonic. My shyness suddenly gone. I turned to face him, he squeezed tighter embrace.

He constantly touched my face and hair, we often hold hands - but this body is so reacted, a teensy exclusively Platonic feelings.

It seemed this planet was no sadness without joy and every joy had balancing her grief - as if someone were rearranging the weights on the unknown scales.

He kissed me in front of everyone, and I forgot that there's someone else. Heart suddenly became surprisingly easy: no barriers, no misunderstandings, no hard feelings - just us, me and him; red-hot magma flowed through the body, melting the last doubts.

Happy and sad, joyful and sad, confident and scared, loved and rejected, patient and furious, serene and wild, improved and devastated... all together. I will experience each moment. All this will be mine.

We sometimes pity creatures that have no mercy neither to himself nor to others.

Do you really think that then why people can go crazy, less real or less true than what all they will fit in full mind?
This is what is most real; if there is something real, as soon as it.

Oh, Morell, let us both renounce it! Why force her to choose between a miserable, neurotic weakling like me and iron bolvany priest like you? Let's go on a pilgrimage - you East, I West in search of a worthy lover for her. Some great purpurnogo Archangel!