day [Theme] Page 2

This April blossoming of trees, grasses, flowers, in general these first spring days - there is nothing more subtly beautiful, pure, festive in the world.

- But with us it’s the other way around. When we hear the bells of Güstrow, there will be no rain for a whole week.

In revenge he brought... a wolf.

What is love, if you think about it? Has anyone been able to give a clear definition of love? Many people believe that love is when the happiness of a loved one is placed above one’s own and becomes the goal of one’s whole life. All this is very beautiful and romantic, but the reality is not as simple as romantics would like. It is very difficult to find a person whom you can make happy with impunity, without fear that he will sit on your neck. You give a woman flowers once, twice and a third time, and on the fourth she asks: “Where are the flowers?” and gets offended. You tell her “my money is your money”, she is happy, and then one day you find your wallet empty and she tells you that you don’t earn enough. You promise to devote all your free time only to her, and then Zhenya calls, says that there is an urgent matter, you take off and leave, and she throws a tantrum. Only stupid and inexperienced young men can believe that love is above all else; it is almost impossible to maintain such an opinion for a long time; over time, you inevitably become a cynic.

A piece of the sun broke off and scattered around the world like golden petals. The day has become noticeably longer, and the birds are more talkative. A girl was walking along the sidewalk. A mischievous blush played on her cheeks, and spring was reflected in her eyes. A row of perennial fluffy spruce trees lined the road. Having straightened the lush branches, they also enjoyed the warmth and light. Marvelous,

Just smiling brightly...

- You are happy.

“Good afternoon, my youth. My God, how beautiful you are.” At seventeen, each of us imagines ourselves as a hot big star. It seems to us that all objects in the solar system should revolve exclusively around us. Youth is given to us not only for knowledge, but also for doing stupid things. And when else to do them, if not at seventeen, in a city that has been captured by spring?..

• What we deserve and what we strive for always happens to us.

Can you remember the happiest day of your life? And the saddest? Have you ever thought that sadness and joy go hand in hand? It turns out a rich purple-purple feeling, not good or bad, but quite strong, simply because you don’t have to live on only one side.

Yesterday I was re-reading Roland Barthes's Diary of Sorrow, a book he wrote day after day during the year after his mother's death. He writes: “I saw my mother’s body sick and dying.” Then I put the book aside and decided to write to you. While you're still alive.

Gould said something else that was interesting to me on the day of my first two notes: write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open. Your writing begins for yourself, in other words, but then it goes out into the world. When you understand what a thing is and do it right - at least as best you can - it belongs to everyone who wants to read it. Or criticize. If you are very lucky (this is my idea, but I think John Gould would have subscribed to it), there will be more of the former than the latter.

You know, I can choose a different life, with another man. And you know that Istvan loves me more than he wants me to see. Stronger than I should. But I chose you. I'm with you. Every day of my life, I choose you. And this is the first and last time I tell you this. But if you deceive me again, it will be the end for us,” the girl told the vampire.

- They will see each other if one of them overcomes his fear and dares to enter the world of the other.