Your fickleness prevents me from standing
And the permafrost bakes forever
When I want to hug you
I appear from the edge
– Traitor! The word did a somersault in the air and crashed right into the auricle.
Inside, I all shrunk … and crawled into Google. To find out what kind of bastard I am now. Meanwhile, Ozhegov’s prudent Soviet dictionary dispassionately published “informer, traitor who treacherously violated loyalty…” oh interesting, since none of the above was suitable for my actions, namely communication with an objectionable person is absolutely not to her detriment, I decided to look for at the same time, this last such good word is loyalty. Please “Stability and constancy in feelings, relationships, in the performance of one’s duties, obligations.” Hmm… But my feelings remained the same, the responsibilities even more so… Returning to my 11-year-old years at night and jumping with my girlfriends through the rubber band, being permanently happy, I remember that I dreamed only of the sea, with my parents together or with one of them, and in general, according to figs, although with a neighbor. And I couldn’t even imagine that if I got there with my neighbor, my mother would decide that now I love my neighbor more…
I have long since grown up, at least visually, and I have seen many seas and in general all kinds of different things. And now my mother is asking me to go to the sea with her so much that sometimes I desperately want to disappear altogether. I love the sea very much, the most in the world, and still I am delaying this decision in every possible way. She clearly did not forgive then. I understand everything with my mind, but I haven’t forgiven my essence … so much, unfortunately. As if it is salty and beautiful, it can be filled with some bitterness if we appear there together. It was so difficult and so difficult for me to defend my “right to life” from my parents without their “dictatorship”. Only I know how I had to, and I get angry assuming that if my parents did not consider me their property, so much would not have to be done As they say, knowledge multiplies sorrow. And in the millions of imaginary conversations that I have with my mother and not my mother, I ask for only one thing – to learn to love myself. So that I can forgive myself and those who are dear, those who are still close to me, to give them the freedom to choose to be in the zone of access, to love sincerely and honestly, to accept their other point of view, not to oppress and subjugate. let them move away a little to breathe on their full chest. In the name of Good.
Hilly terrain bitter taste of grass
And the magical boat is not subject to the wind
The moves of your underground maps are so complicated
I can walk a meter in a year
