internal dialogue [Theme]

Movies, alcohol, sex, internet surfing, double cheeseburger - we have time for anything but internal dialogues.

Life sometimes forces you to make a choice, and often your future depends entirely on this choice, no matter how pretentious it may sound. Decide, finally, what is important, valuable, desirable for you. Just don't run away like you did before, leaving everything you started to build. Take courage, otherwise you will be left with nothing again. Step on the throat of your fears. You are stronger, you just do not know about it. Close your eyes. Slow down your pulse. Erase the pictures of the past. They are no longer needed. Don't exaggerate the importance of past experiences. He only pulls down into the abyss. Don't jump into it, please, just walk forward, in small steps, without rushing.

we retreat, and continue to move forward with even greater speed. We build our lives in the place where others crashed against the wall. The closer we ourselves are to this wall, the more we hope to pass through it. The closer it is, the more stubborn we believe that the most incredible solutions will come and miraculously save the situation, while those who are watching us from the outside are waiting for ... a blow. "

All the sad find happiness in the desert. There are not think: why live? Think of it: how to survive? Do not talk to anyone. Speak with yourself and with God. In response you hear one voice - go figure who's talking.

"Listen, listen, -
He murmurs to me -
In the book are many beautiful
Thoughts and plans.
This man
Lived in the country
The most disgusting
Thugs and charlatans.

There lived a boy
In a simple peasant family,
Yellow-haired,
With blue eyes...
And here he became an adult
To that poet,
Even with a small,
But easy grip force
And some woman,
Forty-odd years,
Called nasty girl
And his Milou.

Black man
Looks at me in the face.
And eyes covered
Blue vomit, -
As if to tell me
I'm a crook and a thief,
So shamelessly and brazenly
Robbed someone.

Black man
Leads the finger by a vile book
And, gnusova me
As over the dead monk,
Read my life
A scoundrel and profligate,
Catching up on the soul with the longing and fear.

It is not necessary to create their theories, to accept others and, especially, to follow them. If you're following a system, you will always be hanging "you should", and you will never be inwardly free!

Man conducts a dialogue only with yourself.

Before the problem was always outside. And now, it turns out, inside. I mean, with all your dearest giblets is my main problem. What a piece of yourself cut off and thrown in a landfill - so, it turns out, is the question.

I often think that I was dragged to the top of the mountain, and I look down.

I would be glad to communicate even with a dangerous opponent, but would not talk with yourself. Not because the other person - no, but because over and over in my same observation from time to time obzavoditsya (or losing them) hypotheses, which explain everything or nothing, - a thankless task. After hours of hard work, the brain starts to creak strained and unkind word to remember his stubborn master. Simply put: perenapravljaetsja.

I will start Smoking or better vodka will pour inner world,
Expelled from all the gloomy, boring...
But no, let's shoot it, because someone love heroin
But did not, and we need to restore balance,
Account to refill. These poems are not for you
For me to remember second by second.
Where is that quack from the emerald city?
On the contrary he will do all
Sawdust in the head, courage takes heart and a will take.
Here then is good...
And now I want to staloch stone into powder
Melt, kill...
Or melt in the middle of the rows.
Or a bird in a flock of ravens.
Or all to answer: "I don't know."
Hide in a corner, to get rid of the ambitions.
Just allow yourself for one moment to be forgotten.