Well... fifty-eleventh rejection might do it a person. Sometimes I wonder, why don't men sit still and wait to be chosen? They skip a lot of disappointment... Or, perhaps, not :D
When I’m in trouble and totally done and when all my hope I abandon I get on the blue trolley bus on the run, the last one, at random.
Night trolley, roll on sliding down the street, around the boulevards keep moving to pick up all those who are wrecked and in need of rescue from ruin.
Night trolley bus will you please open your doors! On wretched cold nights, I can instance, your sailors would come, as a matter of course, to render assistance.
So many a time they have lent me a hand to help me get out of grievance... Imagine, there is so much kindness behind this silence and stillness.
Last trolley rolls round the greenery belt and Moscow, like river, dies down... the hammering blood in my temples I felt calms down calms down.
Entertaining a thought to find another flat. And even declared my interest for a flat on one of the islands near Gbg. Sea view.
If I get it, it'd take an age to get to my workplace and back and there will be the issue about what to do with my car. But there's a brazillion people before me in the queue, so I won't get it.
It's your right. And still, the thread isn't about bashing people showering in perfumes. It's about scents that associate with falling in love. It's intimate. It's subtle. It's memories and promises and dreams.
It's the bagatelles of ours lives.
It's luxuries only brave can allow themselves.
It's all we will take with us. When and well, when... :)
They will be in bloom very soon. At least here. You can walk to a lilac bush, gather a few brunches together and submerge your face into the armful of clusters.
Early morning (after a passionate night) when the flowers are covered with dew will give you the most powerful memories. Well... if you are in Sankt-Peterburg in the right time.
Well... he injured his push knee beyond repair the next winter. And I eventually got spinal cord injury. We become promising-once-upon-a-time and I joint this site. I suspect, there's a lot of my kind.
I do love marine scents. Iodine, a little shellfish decomposing somewhere nearby, tar warmed by sun... I have no problem to fall in love to it. Where's my Sinbad?
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