color [Theme] Page 5

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.

women…. It is the same with the profession. Yes, there are sad artists, there are merry ones. For a good artist, his mood plays a small part, because he must be able to convey what he is looking at, as if it were something to advertise itself. The artist becomes impassive, he is like a lens, like the retina of the eye, receiving light and reproducing a picture. At the moment of writing a portrait or painting, you abstract from everything. There is only your muse or landscape, depending on what you write, and there is also your feeling that this person or object revived in your soul. What you see makes your mood. If the opposite happens, then this dissonance is caught on an intuitive level. You look, the technique is perfect, the colors are well chosen, but not that. Something wrong.

Amusingly... If you're funny most of the time, you're considered an idiot and a frivolous person. If you are serious, you immediately fall into the category of very reliable, thorough. The label principle works because it's easier than admitting that people aren't static at all. If you admit this, you learn to maneuver, for each topic to first determine the mood, and then in this regard to conduct a dialogue. This is very difficult, so they choose the easiest way. One of the two, green or blue. And few people want to delve into the colors themselves and determine with a combination of what shades they turned out.

Woman with green eyes.

Love mixes all colors.

the pen of the Cyrillic alphabet is pricked.

- Now I hate all its vile shades.

Fear has nothing to do with anything.
It's like a wave of change.
We're just all
incorrectly
recognize the signal.
Your eyes.
The first months of a newborn
the brain learns to see.
Learns colors,
understands how to correct twilight,
illumination
so that you know,
that at sunset the horse is not red,
but white,
just the light is red.
The brain learns to recognize
Signals
from the retina.
But from the heart of signals
we never learn
understand.
Fear, Marcius, just a signal
about the need for change.

Inside: depressed, confused and killed.

Hell is white! - suddenly makes a discovery student Karminkel. - No flame, only eternal snow. The souls of sinners freeze in an ice bath. And Satan has a gray beard, he speaks Russian and looks like Santa Claus ...

Now about America, and what happens there. It is a logical development of "new" values. We see how the minorities discriminate against the majority. Here's what resulted from their values. They said that their values lead to qualitatively new vision of the world. To create a completely different person. And in fact, we see a simple mirror effect. These fine progressives did not invent anything the best how to really "put the horse on Roosevelt instead of Roosevelt sitting on a horse." Reverse discrimination. That's all worthy philosophical thought of the West? Something more interesting could come up with? This is the pinnacle of Western philosophy? In fact, it's a dead end. It is the failure of what is called Western philosophy, science, democracy in particular. It's still racism. That the West offers as a solution to their internal and external problems? As external challenges - geopolitical racism, the appointment of the wrong countries, the wrong history, which must always be subjected to pressure. And they came, and I think that's quite fair, to internal racism. Now this minority should discriminate against others. Sorry, when we begin to exalt the rights of minorities, as a single spotlight American perestroika, the only torch of freedom, that's got to be a logical result. This is what the West has sought and encouraged the others. What happens in America - it's hard to say. Why not demolish all the monuments of Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece? It's all been the slave of civilization. Look at the murals - and there are slaves, and the way some black. All this to carry, roll up the asphalt and put the cubes, blue squares, green triangles.

Serai, father said I must be fair. When he died, I dreamed Madam Justice...
- Justice Itself? Ish.
- Yes, and she was in the hoodie.
Means boring dream.
- Can I finish?
- Come on.
- She said that justice is not only fair solution and the consequences of true justice is a fair system. She then handed me my sword, scales and blindfold. And told to choose.
You have picked the patch?
Yes. An armband that provides a way to test the system. She said," Imagine it, that was not yet born. And I don't know you are born rich or poor, what color you'll be and what kind of culture will belong to your family..." a Fair system is fair what would I not have been born. Law within the system should protect everyone.

A noir, E blanc, I rouge, U vert, O bleu, voyelles,
Je dirai quelque jour vos naissances latentes.
A, noir corset velu des mouches éclatantes
Bombillent Qui autour des cruelles puanteurs,
Golfe d'ombre; E, candeur des vapeurs et des tentes,
Lance des glaciers fiers, rois blancs, frissons d ombelles
I, pourpres, sang craché, rire des lèvres belles
Dans la colère ou les ivresses pénitentes;




A - black, white - E, U green, O - blue,
And red... I want to open a birth vowels.
A black corset under a swarm of flies is terrible,
Swarming around like in the fall or in the mud,
The world of darkness; E - the rest of the fog over the desert,
Shake the flowers off of the glaciers threat.
And purple, with a clot of blood, smile of beautiful lips
In their anger or in their foolishness Shrine.

- I have never been close to a woman... but I have hugged a few. - He smiled sheepishly and shook his head. - It wasn't the same. I mean, that kept women in an embrace and kissing them and...
He waved his hand, discarding is the last "and".
- It was nice, really nice. Her heart was beating, and the breath has become frequent, and all that. But it wasn't like that with you, when I hug and kiss you.
His eyes are the color of lakes and skies, I thought, and they are bottomless.
He reached out his hand and touched my bottom lip, touching the edge.
- Starts the same, but after a moment, he continued softly - after a moment, it seems to me that holding live fire.
He pressed harder, circling my lips and stroking his chin.
And I want only to throw myself into this fire and burn.