the proximity [Theme] Page 5

Did you know that you did it Randall. Jamie told you about it?
- A little bit.
- So he's nice to you, - thoughtfully said Dougal. - He's usually nobody talks about it.
Even can't imagine, why would it? - I said sarcastically.

She was much closer than he thought.

... called Irina Sergeevna and invited guests. I bought a dry wine in packages, lots of fruit. To cook I don't like. Learned something the circumstances forced. Cost small. Do not eat meat, some fish, vegetables, fruit. When accustom themselves to a small amount of food, the body quickly becomes saturated. At times, the Breakfast is enough hard-boiled eggs and strong tea with breads.
Irina guest welcome. I call it psihologiey. That is not just an impersonal professional and a woman. Or female therapist. It would be more correct. Because there is still a woman. In the full sense of the word.
Long - forgotten morning when you Wake up not alone. Pleasantly weary. In the stream of bachelor of idleness physical intimacy is akin to a little adventure. At the age of fifty you can be inside and outside of psychophysical enjoyment. Lost the rapidity and automaticity, there is a spicy reasonable. And humor. And irony. And enjoying long outdoor experiences. The body has its own memory.
- You can relax and nothing to think? - asked Irina after a morning promenade in bed. - Close your eyes, relax, put your hand on the solar plexus. Don't think about anything.
- Relax, - I smile. - Put your hand on the solar plexus. Think about what thinking about nothing.
- You can not do anything not to think?
I do not know. I don't think about anything in the moment of physical ecstasy. Thinks my body is. Brains do not think. Now I'm relaxed, but not can't think. Sink into oblivion, but I understand that I am sinking. If you erase the "I", something happens. And why is that? What kind of Zen Buddhist thing?
- Don't be afraid. You're not a Guinea pig. I want to reach out to your stubbornness. After all, you're a little despise modern psychologists?
What do you mean? I won't despise. First, the donation is disgusting in itself. And secondly, am I really blind? I think I sometimes don't see ourselves as if from the outside? Just the tail yet. Horns and hoofs strikes.
......
- Understand how people have problems? You know? - gently and persistently formulates questions psychologist, fingering them gently as the cat kneaded shawl. At the same claws to open legs wide open. - If you could only imagine the healing power of training. If I could. Where are the problems? You never thought that? Where a person has problems? In individual. From social unity. A group of people. Where?
- Where? - I smile, looking at her naked body. - All the problems here. Isn't it? From sunshiiine...... - My hand opens, fingers caterpillar gently shuffling from her solar plexus down korogaru. - Women are born boys become men, politicians, rulers, dictators, tyrants, nasty men. They are nothing but trouble. So to blame women who gave birth to these men....
(Psychologist and a psychopath)

Compassion and loving kindness themselves will make us open, a result, it becomes much easier to communicate with people. Because you find that other people are no different from you and it is significantly closer. You have the opportunity to experience real friendship.

In our culture, the ingrained notion that deep intimacy is only possible in the context of a passionate romantic relationship with a Special Person, which we distinguish from the mass of other people. This view often limits us and cuts from other sources of intimacy, causing us to suffer when we can't find that Special someone.

To touch a woman.
Men love in conversation with a strange woman to touch her. Sleeve or arm, blowing a speck of dust from her neck, straightening her hair, and so on... Thus, the male establishes tactile contact, essentially "labeling" the female their self. In the hope that the female sought I like it and she soon, if not flow, but will melt after falling into men's arms...
However-however... Most of the time, the lady like touch, and not because the male does not like it, but because the Woman does not like to be touched by unfamiliar people, and personal sympathy here departs on the second plan.
So unfamiliar female better to touch when she first touched you. Not before. But it's too late.

You are close only to those whom you suffer.

Without death there is no progress. Its proximity encourages us to challenges.

Drop wild poetry
Soft calligraphy for the fault of our bodies
As the petals swing in the wind...
Idols of the wind touch your hair,
Metaphors rethink everything....
The images of fugitives,
Without touching the fingers struggle to reach the notes.
To achieve no more than a glance and a voice
Barely breathing
That nothing prevented the birth and death of sound.
Inspiration needs air of Eros.
Pedigree sheet and blood
Candle will melt in your hands
and will take care of the black and white dust.
Drunk from the sounds of light
Sink into the sweet abyss of the owner,
Descend into the river of love
And time flows parallel to the water.
Poets never were any gods or women
There was only God and she was a Goddess.
Poetry - kids game, intentions and shadows,
The utterance itself,
A shiver of awe and immersion into the eyes depth.
Dressed as the Muse, the memory of the roses in your blood.
White mirror Lorca.
Poetry without words, and the throat - which tears of joy.
Virginity
Greeters outcrop guilty purity.
Husky tool ecstasy.
Trembling stars.
Shadows blur the outlines of the poems...
Halo rhymes encircles the wrist...
Seamless tunic,
Milk and wine,
7 phonemes that were in bloom at your approach...
The white DOE plastic stanzas
Where hunting arrow remained lifeless.
Strong step that is a terrible and wonderful -
Triumphant TRANS touch.
This rare beauty is to be.
A woman of my gospel,
With the wind I read your nearness,
Your flaming title
Your ascended hardcover
With your mournful wisdom
And steep cliffs thirst.
In your sky above the roar of battles, insatiable vanity,
Your feeling
You were holding a book with blank pages
At this moment it was my first Psalm.

And then it started something between us a secret, some kind of sinful intimacy ours would have been the relationship and therefore special lust.

I'm not singing, and General enthusiasm annoys me, but still nice to sit around the campfire. Something unites us all - some sort of proximity, the heat coming not from the fire, and from ourselves.

Felt the proximity of evening twilight, among which are seen the traces of the effulgence of the morning.

In older, simpler times to sleep in the presence of another person was considered an act of complete trust. If the trust was mutual, then the next dream was more intimate than a bodily connection.

His death was a challenge. Death - the attempt to join because people rush to the sacred precincts, and it is impossible to reach, she slips away and hides in secret; the proximity of the spreading apart; goes out delight; it remains alone. In the death - hug.