The treatises on perfection based on personal empirical evidence. Трактаты о совершенстве основанные на эмпирическом опыте
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"If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is grass in the beginning." - Vincent Van Gogh
Painting: "Wheatfield with a Reaper" by Vincent van Gogh
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Letting go of my mistakes; there’s no point in dwelling on them. What’s important is that I’ve learned from them. And I’m ready to start fresh.
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49 days. I feel good—reflecting, meditating, and stepping into the dating world. Taking it one day at a time.
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Дейв, ты мне не звонишь, ну и ладно. Я не буду заниматься деструктивным поведением чтоб забыть тебя.Я не буду бушевать и топить камни, я не буду стараться очиститься. Я спокойна. Я вода и я просто плыву по течению.
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«Я люблю тебя», сказала я и обняла его покрепче. Было тепло. Он поцеловал меня «И я люблю тебя».
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Мне нужен экстраверт, а в романтических образах все время присутствует интроверт. Мы тихо пьем кофе. У нас так��я отдушина- будто два духа вышли из одного тела.
I need an extroverted man, yet in my romantic visions, I always imagine an introverted husband. We drink coffee in silence, sharing such a soulful connection that no words are necessary—a quiet understanding between two people completely in sync, like two souls emerging from one body.
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Когда я встречу хорошего парня и он сделает мне предложение, я засмеюсь от счастья. Я пойму какого это быть по-настоящему любимой.
🦋
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CYPRESS
A cypress told me:
“Comfort is under me.
Do not hit your head around,
Comfort is under me.
You ran so much and got so tired,
You were left alone on the roads.
You trusted and came up to me,
Comfort is under me.
If I could give you some place in my root
If I could spread my shade on you…
Hey, the fool seeking comfort!
Comfort is under me.
You shall lie down in the cool of this place!
You shall be adorned with flowers,
Sleep here; you shall win,
Comfort is under me.
Your beloved will wander around,
One day she will arrive here;
Longings will unite here,
Comfort is under me.”
*Translated by Rukiye Uçar
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Ее образ, как призраки танцующего пламени.
Her image, like ghosts of dancing fire, flickers in the mind—ethereal, untouchable, yet consuming everything in its wake.
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