window [Theme] Page 3

After all, you are my love, my prophecy.

Ripe July is when the eyelashes rise to the heavenly canvas even before sunrise, and you admire the pearly dawns ... this is when the window and the heart are wide open, and dreams are mixed with reality ... this is when outside the house more often than inside ... this when you soak up inspiration with all your heart, collecting bouquets of wild flowers smelling of honey and wind, or feeling the wet silky sand with your bare feet, walking along the foamy seashore and picking up mother-of-pearl shells in your palm. And July is when strawberries are in the corners of the lips ... and happiness.

A person's life is cut short.

I am the inspiration that peers through your window at night, painting the melodies of pictures you have not painted, and your laughter that you cannot know. And I am a stupid thought that suddenly overshadows you in broad daylight and fills your heart with extraordinary joy. I am a song that tells about passion and despair, about madness and tenderness. I am the bell of awakened spring. I am the first flowers that light up in your visions, and the rainbow that flares up in previously unknown feelings. I am a long-awaited solar whim and a melting boundless tenderness of a kiss. I am the wind that embraces blooming April and excites with the confidence of generous September. I am the element, the only one whose fury attracts and surprises. I am the top of a glacier above the forests, dazzlingly sparkling, and the copper voices of birds by the winter sea. I am a happy dream fifteen minutes before dawn, born of a distant star. I'm your chance to tell the world what you can't hide. I am a sculpture, changing every moment and forever unique. I am that which lives silently in the heart and makes the hands tender and the eyes moist. I am quiet sadness and sad silence filled with life. I am a riddle that no one can solve. My gentle callsigns fly into space...

Chased her off with a broom.

I consider these days a waste, though lived for free.

make them believe in miracles.

- You understand, don't you? As you are with him, so is he with you.

And you ruined my beautiful, my new bra, you had nothing to carry watermelons. Confusing my bra for a shopping bag. Moron! It would be better to confuse the door and the window. Step - and did not suffer! And straight to hell! It's clear? And yesterday you took the alarm clock to the pawnshop. What for? So that we never wake up. For us to be silent forever. But I woke up and I will not be silent!

Nature was her passion; mountains, sea. And here, in London, you look out the window and see houses, houses... It was terrifying that people live squeezed into boxes heaped on top of each other.

Tolerance is the Overton window.

Curtain the window, put out the candle!...

And just be in good shape of the day.

Completely at the mercy of chance and in the hands of a bully.