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Splash Fire Journey Next Confession Friday
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-=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- 1/17/2002 "Every
time when something is wrong I am coming back to this page." - She
wrote in her Spanish class. She didn't write anything else and was just
yawning and looking around.
She was chatting with the lynx and it took her about an hour. After she
listen "Bonnie and Clyde" by Splin and went upstairs. She drank
about 2 cups of water or a caffeine supply she used when she felt
unmotivated. -Mom, - she said/ Her mother tore of the eyes from the book -
... To be continued... 1/17/2002I want to burn "Fahrenheit 451". It's an interesting book with a number of English words I can not comprehend ... And I take the electronic dictionary and type these words. Than I read and understand but I forget what I read about before. And it's all confuses me... Four hundred and fifty one words in holly English, like the waterfall of the fire: "What is there about fire that's so lovely?
No matter what age we are, what draws us to it?" Beatty blew out the
flame and lit again. "It's perpetual motion; the thing man wanted to
invent but never did. Or almost perpetual motion. If you let it go on,
it'd burn our lifetimes out. What is fire? It's a mystery. Scientists give
us gobbledegook about friction and molecules. But they don't really know.
Its real beauty is that it destroys responsibility and consequences. A
problem gets too burdensome, then into the furnace with it. Now, Montag
you're burden. And fire will lift you off my shoulders, clean, quick,
sure; nothing to rot later. Antibiotic, aesthetic, practical." I love English. And I love Spanish. I love poetry... Journey Sunday
night She missed her bus and we disappeared in the Metro until we appeared on Chestnut Hill. We walked on that street the name of which I can not recreate in my memory. Middlesex crossed it. Nice people walked to the store she worked in. Kindness, I could see it in their eyes. I asked them if they knew where is the closest payphone, they said it's in the bookstore "Bars and Nobles", that was 51 steps away. I said "Thank you" and in 2 seconds I was in. I called Andrey and asked when we were about to chill-out. He said in two hours, because he had to go to the airport to help his friend. I disappeared in metro and I walked out on the Copley square. I sat down on the threshold opened "Fahrenheit 451" and looked all around. Boston was in one's beauty. I smiled and enjoying where I was walked to the Boston Public Library. I passed through the security check and climbed to the second floor, to the section of Russian books. There I sat and started to read in English - "Fahrenheit 451". I read for less then an hour, until I had 25 pages left and walked out of there with a smile of freedom. Boylston street was as glorious as it can get and when I saw the Boston Garden and ice on the lake... and people gladly walking to it my foot turned left I and I melted on Newbury Street. I found the pay phone that didn't work the last year. They still didn't fix it. And I called from another that was 51 steps away. We decided to meet near one of my favorite Starbucks, but it was very busy with young and crazy people of Boston. :) Anrey said "Sveta!", when I was standing in front of the Playboy bunny sign, I smiled and walked to his dark violet car and sat on the backseat and we started chilling out. Cambridge square was on the way. At 4 pm the scenery of Charles river seizes the spirit. In the coffee shop Andrey met his acquaintances and we forgot about time in the discussion of current events of the life of each of us. We both have definitely changed since the last time we saw each other. I became more sophisticated as he said and he became more oriented on whatever, I think so. Starbucks rocked the city and the conversation went to nowhere. The scream of the girl the floor above, guys, Freud, what else to do in Boston, music, the consequences of immigration, that can be expressed in any way, the dancing performance, GYM, blinds and my room, the reason why people don't have blinds in Holland, Starbucks icon... that was a side of the chill-out. And then he drove me home, since I didn't want to spend an hour by myself in the train. Next
Less
than a year later it was Sunday night, and her mother told her to make out the
fir-tree, like the holiday was over. No shit, the New Year lasts the entire
year! Next Friday her stepfather told her "Christmas is over".
She explained that by the Russian traditions the tree is kept in the house until
someday. She explained it to him before, but he said that he forgot that she
did. For her it was unclear why not to celebrate the holiday... That
year for some unknown reasons they were not going to have the Christmas tree on
the night of the 24th. Next day her mother finally made it all work for
the sake of her friends' coming up to celebrate one day later and her daughter's
birthday. Which is between Christmas and New Year's Eve.
Неслышный
звук зари Не xочется
больше
курить, Не xочется
больше
плакать Сижу у
костра и
гляжу я На
сожжённые
листья
мечты Я жгла
её ярким
пламенем, Неистовым
стоном теx
встреч ... Я жгла
её так
бесжалостно, Пока не
увидела
свет. Он с
неба падал
бережно, Как с
неба
кружатся
снежинки В xолодный
январский
день. Он грел
душу
уставшую, Сидящую
у костра. Где ты
новая мечта? Заблудилась
в потёмкаx
грусти? Где ты
новая мечта? Затаилась
в осенниx
листьяx? Я ищу
тебя месяца
два - Не
найти никак
на страницаx, Может
стоит
покинуть
тебя, Отгорелая
синяя птица? (Синяя
шариковая
ручка) Не
искать, Не
смотреть И не
слушать, И не
плакать в xолодные
дни? И идти в
никуда по
улицам, Сколько
можно идти
так
бесцельно? Тот кто
так долго
идёт - Далеко
не уйдет ... Сколько
можно
щелкать Мышью
сизою Налево,
направо Лишь
строчки
писать? Не буду, Не
стоит, Не xочется
... И
неслышный
звук зари Отдаётся
как той
последней Шороx невинной мечты. Confession A cup of coffee, We're sitting together Chatting about own life Such at ease, And the most important People In this world, in these minutes Are we. Look into my eyes tell me the truth And I will tell you too About that I was Listening to the music of Garbage And I was dancing alone And nobody saw me And I was singing the music of My soul... Whole flower has opened on the cover of the CD "Beautiful Garbage" But the the most disclosed Truth is That late at night When I can not fall asleep Or don't want to I go To the kitchen and Stealth eat Russian rye bread And listen to Garbage...
Friday. I forgot a pen, that's why it falls to me to write in light-blue marker. As a rule in this school nothing comes out normally. So instead of the driving on the rollers they entrained me into the study hall. Probably for that I would study better. And they put me on the lowest level in Trigonometry; it's probably for that too. English I may not take at all, but let it already be, it's always not boring there. In all it turned out pretty originally, I received a "B+" in first term and "F" in second, on the exam of English as usually "B". So it has always been, around Russian or English. To emend a grade for a year will be a success, because they lastly made it like in all civilized schools: the grade is given for a year, not for a semester. Well... let them carry forward, perhaps soon they move in moderate laws, like will make books lighter or will have a copy in each class. Or they would make breaks longer than 4 minutes, for example 7, so students can freely walk to their classes, without rushing from one corner of the large school to another with a heavy bag pack on their backs. To make it longer, for that students could stretch or say "hello" to acquaintances or friends, letting the mind rest in order to be more productive.
This school is one of the highest in education in this state, because
there is nothing to do in this forest-like town, but study. And one
more thing. Today I will call the doctor. Panic attacks extinguish me like
a candle. Here is why I write in such a murky-murky mood. "Голос твой" В ласкоаом рассвете слышен голос твой. Нашепчи ты Свете , "Я навеки твой." Нашепчи наушко нежные слова, Нашепчи ей тиxо, "солнце - для тебя," И скажи ей утрм - "небо для меня", Ты скажи ей это, скромность не xраня.
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