606 mine?

i still remember with warmth in my soul

April means the wind playing in your hair and the cries of seagulls. it’s putting on a record of classical music, spending sleepless nights reading, wandering through the forest. light dresses, bouquets of wild flowers and a scattering of freckles on the shoulders. these are long trips, breakfasts on the verandas and the sea breeze. the smell of raspberry and patchouli. film photographs, bitten lips and freshly baked croissants. it's not finding a place for yourself. miss someone else's voice and get lost in your thoughts

something remains eternal.

My longing for you turns into a sea full of desperate desire to crawl to your doorstep, like a stray dog throwing itself under the feet of passersby. I am no longer disturbed by autumn, Bugrov's paintings, the first snow, or the touch of hands. God laughs at his own joke, which I call love for you, and lights a new cigarette. Someone once said that such illnesses are incurable.

2:40

одиночество преследовало меня всю жизнь, везде.

no one is worth ruining your life for.

My pain is like a rotten fruit, forgotten in the corner of a dark room. It slowly decomposes, and the putrid smell permeates every thought, every breath. This poisoned sting pierces my being, making my soul vulnerable and afflicted. Each new day only intensifies this pain, like an ulcer gnawing at me from within. I try to hide this decaying weight behind a smile and a mask of indifference, so that no one sees the wounds that seem never to heal. And I continue to harbor this disease within myself because I no longer have the strength to share this heavy burden. My pain becomes a part of me, permeating every cell, rotting and decaying inside me, leaving only the shadow of what was once whole and alive within me.

now and forever?

it's not true

i got out of the maze of suffering

выбирая между одиночеством и болью, я предпочла с болью разбиться вдребезги.