edge [Theme] Page 2

But quite the opposite. When it comes to you...

subscriber, out of range ...

And no matter how much I wanted to believe that there is truth behind illusions, I finally realized that there is no truth behind illusions. Because between “reality” on the one hand and the point at which reality and reason converge, there is a certain intermediate zone, an iridescent edge where beauty comes to life, where two completely different surfaces merge, are captured and give us something that life cannot give us : in this very space all art, all magic exists. And - I bet that's all love. Or, to be more precise, the intermediate zone shows us the fundamental paradox of love. Close up: A freckled hand on a black coat, an origami frog flopped to one side. A step back - and again an immortal illusion creeps in: about life is greater than life. And between them - the gap - is Pippa herself, she is both love and non-love, she is here and not here. Photos on the wall, a crumpled sock under the sofa. The moment when I reached out to remove the fluff from her hair, and she laughed and dodged me. And just as music is an internotic space, just as the stars are beautiful due to the distances between them, just as the sun at a certain angle beats a ray into a raindrop and throws a prism of light into the sky - so is the space in which I exist, where I would like to stay further, is exactly in that middle zone, where despair clashes with the purest otherness and something sublime is born.

Why the Chukchi do not leave their terrible land, in any place they would live better in comparison with their current life and current desires. But they cannot; whatever is possible is happening; only what happens is possible.

Sorrow is a land that no one has a clue about until he has been there himself. We know we can lose a loved one. Getting ready to experience the shock. But we do not expect this shock to be so strong. That grief will really deprive us of our reason, and we will begin to keep my husband's shoes, hoping for his early return. It is also not given to us to know in advance that inescapable feeling of loneliness and emptiness with which from now on we have to wander in search of justification for our own life.

Limb from Latin - "edge", "boundary". Limb is recognized in Catholicism as a place where the souls of people who have not sinned, but also have not taken away original sin, that is, unbaptized, fall.

The first time he saw her topless photo was when he was doing an audit at the store's warehouse. It was so unexpected that he did not even for a second have a desire to jerk off, he was taken aback and, like a schoolboy who turned on porn for the first time, almost jumped off the phone. Putting the phone down on the edge of the table, screen down, Max began to count the boxes of goods.

I believe in my people and believe in my native land!

Nova looked at these evil women in blood and pulled a smile out of the deep hiding place inside her. This is the smile of a girl who was driven to the edge of the world, ready to spread her arms like wings, and then take off or fall.

No man or woman knows the degree of their moral fortitude until they are tested. Thousands of people live their lives with respect only because they have never been brought to the brink.

Let only someone dare
Ask where I come from,
Where is my land, and the homeland is where:
I've never been before.
Space and time are connected.

Happy child! Why do you burn with desire?
To see France pierced by suffering,
Where people live closely; why your fate
Hurry to hand over to the hands of the rowers and the ship,
Say goodbye forever to your favorite tamarin?
Half-dressed, under a ghostly muslin,
Trembling from the cold and blizzard of snow,
You will remember the past and the free land of the native;
And your free torso will be squeezed by the vise of the corset,
You will trade yourself - and for it
In the dens of the city shelter you will found your own,
Coconut trees are looking for in the mist of raw!

You accumulate all your anger and sadness. Eventually they will overflow. Or you will drown in them.

As a teenager, I was doing a comedy number on a talent show at school, and there was one jacket I wanted to wear to look like Albert Brooks. I saved for many months for it, but when I collected the amount, I went to the store, and the jacket was no longer there. It was bought in front of me. I came home and told my mom everything. She said, "It's going to be a lesson for you. That's what happens when you want something." She knew how to give life lessons, which boiled down to the fact that I was to blame for everything.
But then on the day of the performance, she prepared a surprise for me. She bought that jacket. Even though she didn't know how to say it, I understood it meant she loved me. Here's a good story about my mother. Albeit fictional, but good, right?... I stole it from the TV series "Mod" from the episode where the heroine talks about her father.
When I watched it, I thought, "This is the story I want to tell when my parents die." But I don't have those stories. I learned all the good things from the TV, and there spoiled people constantly prove their love with all sorts of noble deeds. And I think part of me still believes that this is love. But in real life, one action is not enough. You need to be consistent, do good all the time. You can't break wood and then swim to the end of the world and save a friend or solve a mystery and go back to Kansas. You have to be good every day, and it's very hard.