She miss you. Lerysol. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lerysol
Издательство: Издательские решения
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Год издания: 0
isbn: 9785006471566
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Who will take responsibility? Not to indulge whims, but to teach them to put them brick by brick step by step. Who would dare? He will tell you how to behave, answer, be silent, nod, cook, smile sincerely, and not for the right time… Who will implant self-esteem, especially in case of falls, self-respect? By giving them the ability to come up with their own games, worthy of all the way. To endure a pause of silence, a deficit, creating boredom, not for vulgar presentations, but simply not to be trampled, devalued and other synonyms…

      I have been spoiled since childhood. All for the sake of that wild fear inside – not to be left alone, grains of sand continue to fall to the bottom, burning out depression. Surges of kindness, with the forgiveness of external cold, gather their fingers in anticipation of an answer similar in state to the given one. Illusory and chilly hopes for communication at a distance with those same steel inner cables. Again about the rake, at the wrong time, on the other end – he has drunken laughter, ringing to smithereens, beats of music, does not go with the prevailing colors at the moment. Evening. Street. The wind shamelessly in obsessive attempts at vulgar acquaintance. Snow illumination. Again steel under the left flashes, a check for a vessel of astringent, a pedal to the floor, a diagonal pedal – slammed shut, dropped wherever it went, the pop of a cork, the sounds of launched content for entertainment. Gulp, gulp, gulp with greed. Pupils automatically immerse themselves in other people’s events on the blue monitor. Distracting from your own, carrying you into other people’s stories, allowing you to be an outside contemplative without touching. Broadcast.

      It happens to someone. Strong in the plot, it is a debt to become cloyingly sweet, allowing yourself to be kicked by phrases, intonation, look, more often, in fact, mediocrity, uneducated, pumped. In response, he politely asks, as if apologizing in advance for the restaurant he chose. She is hysterical, does not accept objections. At most, she dines in canteens, in the evenings with fast food in her arms, in a moment she grabs the opportunity to be rude, stomping second-hand. Demanding a dish, guided not by the combination, but exclusively by the highest cetlik, blurting out unconsciously. The vulgar ill-manneredness of the peeping from her favorite, the one with whom she is signed among other millions, affects. Not worse, not better, but a step closer… For how long? Is it allowed? After all, someone has to remove the wet reins to cultivate gray permissiveness. As soon as it is boorish, the cattle of dirt emerges.

      Here are the last drops, without hurrying – with a tongue, a little drunk. A sandwich with a black one. Sleep, sleep among a dozen downy girlfriends, wrapped up. Quiet, quiet. Cozy.

      Slammed. “I understood less and less of what you read. I understand, I understand, but I rarely look upset in the mirror. More often than not, there is no time. Online brainwashers are fighting for attention, not forgetting to regularly issue checks. The ocean with its servants still calms me, disperses the clouds for me, stroking me with the sun. In the morning, I run with the gold of coastal beaches in headphones along my patron. He plays with me, flirts with the surf, foamy waves, soiling me in the sand, after kissing me, washes me off immediately. Another dog with sagging sides, with a sincere look, feeding, now my personal friend of the ocean is devoted. Single foreign owners serve physics. They acquire sand time. I play the game they offered for privileges, I slowly add fat to fat. Not tenderness, not deep, so surfing on the surface. I also drink red, distract, forget, switch myself inside to a strong one. Well, how are you? What do you have? It’s cold? January. Unashamed. Love? I really, really want to be in your arms, that little one. Tell. There was a surge of emotions, at the moment I was already ordering, a one-sided exit from the game, throw and fly, fell asleep. Maybe it was right? Will you come? I kiss you. I missed you so much.”

      Slowly…

      Morning motifs. Working days. Sleepy city. The avenues are in disrepair. Waking up a little. Stretching. French motifs. Everything is familiar. Coffee. The smell of croissants for breakfast. The windows are permeated with cold. Observers. Not in a hurry. Allowing others to dive thoughtlessly. Not rushing in action.

      Slowly, noticing how he treats his father, with all his shortcomings. With dirty soles, evicting them to public ones. Accepting payment for any action offered out of courtesy. Slowly, noticing how he treats the dog, with all the ostentatious joy, taking advantage of free access, with the opportunity to put the cute in the grid for public approval. Taking for granted the maintenance of a four-legged animal, as if not trying to create and build a common thing in advance. There are no complaints, only a statement of the lack of upbringing. Without hurrying noticing how she melted under the injustice of her mother, manipulating pity and aggression. Slowly noticing how I was drawn to sharing content with fickle, wind-filled ones, dancing, bending, imagining myself among imaginary friends, plunging into pink delusions. Slowly, noticing how shamelessly I did not know how to defend what was entrusted to me, in the next attempts to please other predators, to wag my shabby tail, in fears of my own thoughts, and returning my dear, entrusted with dents, in shabby, in broken. The corrupt character of the servant girl is stupid. Admitting the possibility of ugly kicking those who, with sincere hugs, imbued with an understanding of the essence – obligation, thoughtfulness in actions, reading pages from past experience. A little less modesty, again abandoned with leaves, powdered with snow, more ice needles in the heart. Loud vows, pronounced at the moment of your own confidence, about your own devotion, about choosing a future path without a companion, are dispelled in moments, predictably meeting on services. Fenders tend to get wet and heavy, especially in such a climate. At times, it is like a dove cowering in a passage. Nothing of his own was created, everything was next to each other, from the barrel, allowing himself to disdainfully blurt out words in colors about the first steps of his companion, cutting up the helpless blanks with criticism. Who is she? Who allowed it? A little more – and the predator will tear apart in an instant, protecting its created, still so small. Tears, drops, girlish resentments with a vulgar lack of education. Hush, hush… No one will say anything in response, in the past. They just silently cross out the name from the notebook, deleting everything possible that previously connected. By gluing the label, it is insatiable, alien, vulgar. How could it be otherwise? To wander again, begging for ghostly huskies. Refusals are pouring in like a fan, sand ones are counting down in selfish indifference. Continuing his winding path, going through small ones in the complete darkness of loneliness. It is difficult to try to please with each new one, to tie up any for the future, having a difficult backpack with past experience. More and more often more harshly, more often more intolerant, more and more often less energy to laugh at other people’s stupid jokes. Without hurrying, noticing, the inner state methodically with a scalpel, more and more distant with his own indifference, without interest in the absolute, which feeds, as if a fleeting view of a short film, not for repeated attention. I am covered with a vacuum, comforting myself with a different dawn in colors, with other possibilities. Crowds of settling in their own caves, surrounding themselves with understandable, predictable and comfortable ones.

      Everyday. Crises in the mind. Mid-daylight. The winter sun hurries those in a hurry. Recruitment, connection with the similar. Conditioned. Sat down – everything is normal, the beginning is about nothing, as before. Boring with summer burdens the stories about vacation in the tropical, comparing the former one by the ocean. Boredom in it is like cobwebs. Discussed, skipped, squeezed, betrayed sarcasm drops. Emptiness. Exchanged prickly. Wave of text, following about the affairs of this and that, floundering prospects. Having exhausted the possible. Smoothly transferring to the excellent accessibility of a cramped, million-strong metropolis.

      Slammed. “Not about me? And I’m flying again. I fly, flapping my wings, I am bored for a long time with people I meet, in moments I expose their truth, the grayness of their true perception is boring. Sadly. But my flight begins to amuse me, I compare myself to a bird. A little difficulty, but so easy to get away from the dirt of the cold. I took it from the window. I want to drink with gas and sleep. And then watch the flaps of the snow-white wing. It’s time, it’s time… I will take my time getting ready – they will announce soon. How are you there? Smooth ice. With a minus? It’s