feet [Theme] Page 4

Forty times around the leg, through the neck into boots.

Bow at your feet - lonely people!

August has its own special taste. He has mustard. Is always. It contains the tastes of wild herbs, wildflowers, ripened wheat, dew that burns colder feet, tired, scorching sun, overripe berries, fallen rotten apples, buzzing wasps, unfulfilled expectations, unjustified hopes, slightly broken plans, blurred dreams. August is a jam from wormwood, dry rose petals, cones, hot overripe pepper, rays of the sun, love, sadness, droplets of tears, unexpected smiles, fragile feelings, hot sand, on which it is impossible to resist a second, sea, sea, different - affectionate, morning, bubbling, foamy, quiet, wind, wind in anticipation of changes, the sounds of tired birds, you mix all this, cover your eyes, inhale the aroma and hold your breath a little near the vessel so as not to spill, because it is Yours. And Yours will remain with you, you put it gently, seal it in yourself and thank you. And let it be a little sad, it has its own depth.

in its essence, it would already be immoral.

Mercantile people often abused my trust. They used my kindness for their own purposes. They caused heartache. Deceived expectations and hopes. They wiped their feet on the most precious thing. They spat in my soul and betrayed. But I did not give up and overcame all the difficulties and hardships. Without perseverance and hope for the best, I would not have made it. That's for sure!

Except the leg you have to lift for the next step

It's garbage and shit...

When a man looks inside and is horrified by his emptiness, he has a very hard choice: I deny what I see, or I get on my feet and start doing something about it. And it's not easy at all. It's like walking around after an injury.

The worst misfortune - the loss of oneself - can happen very imperceptibly, as if nothing had happened at all. Any other loss - arms, legs, wife, five dollars - will surely be noticed.

"Don't confuse green with sour," he threatened. - There are more of us. Say: Who is this?

Live without betraying your values. Be honest with yourself. Walk towards the distant blue horizons. Even if sometimes you have to climb the steepest mountains, go anyway. Because you are closer to the pie in the sky. Tits for everyday life, but you are a dreamer. And don't look at the flashy jewelry that life-rogue throws at your feet. Not everything that glitters is what your wanderer soul needs. And only you yourself know where your happiness is.

Summer for that and summer, to shimmer with rich colors. In the streams of daylight splashes scatter. Kiss passers-by with hundreds of soaring rays. And make people live only in the present. Summer is the earthly happiness of dreamers and romantics. In summer, everything is so serious and incredibly simple. Summer kisses hot and hugs tightly. Summer is the time for sunsets and quivering scarlet dawns. Summer - the warmth of the palms, the salt of the sea and the stickiness of watermelon. In the summer you hear something completely different... Do you hear the music?! It rings, chirps, chirps, trills, noisily throws waves under the feet of young maidens. Summer intoxicates with dew, moisture of ripe berries. Summer calls with it to the heights, distant roads. Summer - dreams and stars, summer - walking on the roofs. Summer for that and summer, that someone becomes closer to you.

... I caught them [insects] with my bare fingers. Picked it up and watched them squirm. Then he tore off their legs, one by one. Sometimes I was stung, sometimes not - it was a kind of game, albeit not a very good one. Once I was struck with a fever for a month from a bite, from which I lay on the mat, seething from the inside and shaking in delirium. I could die, although I didn't particularly care. Having recovered, I again sat in the same place at the entrance and waited for the next one to run within reach. Since then, I've played the other game of approaching the threat and seeing how long I can hold out before I get bitten again.

Not every person is capable of good deeds, especially towards strangers. It is doubly unpleasant because the number of hypocrites is increasing and fewer and fewer people are able to appreciate high spiritual and moral qualities.