lovers [Theme] Page 1

There is nothing more delightful than running away with your loved one.

He also does not know how to be angry with me. We are like a raw tree that will never catch fire.

I'm not crazy enough to argue with a person in love.

Our dust will tremble, and again we will become a couple in love.

Two idiots in love play hide-and-seek and catch-up with each other. Neither wants to appear weak, and in the end, both are weak.

One person's point of view will always be incomplete - when you are alone, it is difficult to make out what is funny and what is not. What love is certainly good for is the pleasure with which lovers check their impressions of what happened.

In the fight against cockroaches in my husband's head, mine brought prisoners.
I fed, got drunk, put everyone on the shelves to sleep. In the morning early, with the first thought in my head, fierce arguments began and porridge was brewed. I decided to turn off my brains by shopping. Let them sit and smirke themselves.
Only in the evening I turned on the TV, deciding to watch a love melodrama, as here in my head went the disgruntled cries of her husband's cockroaches with the demands of football, beer and vobla. Deciding that it was too much to tolerate in my own head the cries of fans with beer and fish frenzy, drank a horse dose of sleeping pills and cut everyone to sleep.
In the morning, the brains were smoking, in my head a revolutionary Maidan with demands for equality and democracy. Small cockroaches went into the opposition of her husband - traitors! Staged a gas and water attack with mineral water, dispersing the demonstrators, but the attempts were in vain. I decided to use heavy artillery and drank a solid portion of vodka. The husband's cockroaches, straightening the hussar mustache, began to molest the ladies. A drunken Kama Sutra was swarming in my head all night.
In the morning I realized early that with such a pace, a Chinese maternity hospital would soon be in my head. Therefore, wearing white lace panties with the flag of negotiations, they signed a non-aggression pact with her husband, after which all the prisoners returned home.
My husband's cockroaches in love began to write poetry, sending fluids to my lovely ladies, who enthusiastically reveled in love, feeling like muses. Peace and grace reigned in our heads.

You lost ... but I found ...

Oddly enough, the first sign of true love in a young man is shyness, in a young girl - courage. It's amazing, and yet it couldn't be easier. The two sexes, striving to get closer, borrow the properties they lack from each other.

Why do single people like to walk at night? For many, this is a mystery, but the answer is simple: at night the streets are empty and no one needs you, as well as during the day. But at night you can find an excuse for this - everyone is asleep. And in the afternoon what to do? To go, to see how lovers coo, how parents run after children. Like someone running to work. These are terrible, but at the same time ordinary pictures of every metropolis. Therefore, it is better like a cat, a killer to go out at night. Walking slowly through the previously busy streets, but now dead, like your soul. Dark, like the blood that flowed through the veins of your victims. It's both pleasure and pain.
Now far after midnight, the streets are empty, only fine snow with raindrops hit the asphalt. Parking the car on the corner of Piccadilly, the Italian slowly walked through the dark city, which was illuminated by lanterns. She had headphones in her ears, freddie Mercury's pleasant voice soothing her soul. Icy hands were in their pockets and the streets were empty.
At night, the city seems to have died, although who knows what happens at night in people's bedrooms? Who knows, maybe in that off window lies on the bed some person, emitting a spirit, and with him sit his children, grandchildren. They sit and wait. But they are not waiting for a doctor, not for helping him. People are greedy by nature - they are waiting for their money. Maybe somewhere on the other end of foggy Albion in agony was born a new life? Maybe some teenage girl in one of the high-rise buildings quietly cried into the pillow so as not to wake her parents, because the heart experienced the first torment. The flour of first love. Maybe now at this very moment some guy was sitting in a social network trying to write a classmate a declaration of love, but was afraid that he would be laughed at. And someone at the same time saves someone's life. Maybe knowing that this person is going to die. But he doesn't back down. Believes. Maybe right now some person, whether it's an adult or, conversely, a teenager. Loner. Wolf. Creates a "left page" on some site based on his favorite novel. Could be... He believes that in this way he will be saved from the loneliness that burns through his childish soul. Or a naive soul. Maybe he will be lucky, and he will not be alone. Maybe he will find his family online. And if not? What will happen to this person? Will he be able to come to terms with the emptiness of life or, on the contrary, burying pain, he will sit on drugs, cigarettes. He will slowly die, like the rest of us. Who knows, maybe in the other side of the planet now someone is in a hurry to work. Someone laughs at someone else's trouble. Some classmate breaks the psyche of a classmate. Who knows what might be now.
But it is the night that is the mistress of the world. It is the night that rules the lives of wolves. It is the night that gives space to dream. It is the night that destroys us. It's night. Here it is - a cold street of the night foggy Albion. Here it is - a kind smile, which we give out during the day. Here it is - life. And no music, whether it's the Beatles or Queen... nothing will save you from loneliness. In a noisy metropolis. In huge London.

Anything easy loving hearts,
With a wealth of parting without sorrow.

Not always in a pilgrimage of the soul frenzied
The flame of the true faith hidden,
Not always wordy and languid lover
A real sense holds.

- Stomp here, you crazy. Catch the same.
I'm not crazy?.. You yourself crazy.
- The court around, we should make a great pair.

- All right. I'm calling to say that I agree.
- What?
- I'm talking about a date. Max, you do where?
- Work. Um... a Date? What? Are you talking about?
Oh... I must've messed up? It's not you I was invited. I'm sorry. Then a bounce.
- Wait, wait, I remember! It was me.
Wow... Exactly?
- Absolutely. And, MIA...
What?
- I'm glad. Very. Kiss with a curious nose.