dance [Theme] Page 1

Nobody gives way to pedestrians. As an experienced hiker I tell you. This moment irritates me most of all: when they gave in to me, I crossed and then the driver, with all his foolishness, presses on the gas to show me how long he had to wait for me. I'm moving on just fine! It's not like I stop in front of his car and be like, You

In the pink acacia garden, when I was young, I built a white bench to meet my old age with my family, watching the petals dance in the blue.

Love is a dance of lovers on a wire without a pole and a safety net.

A place of worship is not a restaurant, worship of God is not a show, a song or a dance... Social networks steal our time, because of which we do not have enough time to connect with God (prayer).

Fate only once invited me to a white dance. The rest of the time I invite her to the dance myself.

try all the seasonal joys: bake fragrant ruddy apples with honey and cinnamon, make yourself chamomile tea or cook cocoa with almond crumbs. walk through the park, whipping up a hurricane of rustling leaves, wrap yourself in blankets and warm hugs, arranging a movie marathon with good autumn films. burn candles, get warm sweaters, decorate the house with love. remember all the synonyms for the word warm and taste each of them. And be sure to remember what an amazing time of the year - autumn.

You promised me a dance in the rain

They say there is always a way out. Smart phrase. Deliberately correct. Yes, of course, there is always a way. In theory. But the price of this exit can be so high that it is

The morning is like a milky thick veil, smoothly covering the viscous glossy night with a light beige foam. Whether it's clouds or the breath of a drink brewed by our senses on the awakening solar fire. A breath of wind - and yesterday's sunset embers become crimson scarlet again, a moment passes and the magic of the night flows smoothly into a coffee cup, leaving an insinuating trail of tart aroma with a characteristic spicy bitterness and a bouquet of candied citrus fruits, merged with drops of buckwheat honey, pecan nuts and dark chocolate. A light breath extends the sky exactly as far as the current one can fit in it. The rays shift quietly behind the window glass, afraid to disturb the living magic in the thin snow-white palms of porcelain, it is in them that magic and mystery, depth and something new that has not yet happened are born. Lips freeze on the rim, as if the cloud finds a secret orbit at the highest point of gravity. The dance of silk drops flowing into a smooth and light smoke. All the concubines of the world will not be able to express this transparency, weightlessness and harmony of the silence of the night and the tonality of the day with their skillful bodies. A white cloud of foam settles with a newly born milky-pearl pearl on awakening feelings, leaving at the bottom a thick palette of future twilight, keeping secrets, images, visions. Light clouds and tart thick, and between them, in someone's palms, coffee life.

• Our souls rot - our bodies also rot!

Dancing in the rain - self-expression of the soul.

Quote in English

In fun more and more anguish was felt. People tried to forget themselves at any cost: everyone knew that very soon this ghostly life, which they got for only twenty days, would end, and everyone would return “there”. As many people took part in the dancing as the decks could hold. Dances often turned into wild dances, like African dances - so they better expressed the state of mind. For an uninitiated person, the liner could easily pass for a cheerful madhouse.

All the best you do in your life will be done at the end of the day. You obviously don't like the youthful glow of the early light. Traveling in the morning does not appeal to you. But the dying sun - old and yellow and ripe - is yours. You don't like heat, you like shine. And so your last dance will be performed on this peak at the end of the day. And in this dance there will be your story about the struggle, about the battles in which you won and those that you lost, about those joys and the confusion that you experienced when faced with personal strength. Your dance will tell of the secrets and wonders that you have accumulated, and your death will sit here and look at you. Just like today, the dying sun will shine on you, but not burn you. A soft, pleasant wind will blow, and the top of the hill will tremble. And when your dance comes to an end, you will look at the sun, look for the last time, because you will never see it again - neither in reality nor in a dream. And then death will point south. Into the immensity.