sweetness addictive. Sweetening is included. He does well in the body, a bit worse in the mind, and quite tragic in my heart. Sugar kills duality states, duality of experience, a multitude of ordinary sense and be yourself. Eats away at everything that is opposed to the pleasure and welfare. Life is inseparably connected with death, and death with life. Sadness is a starting point for joy, and happiness sometimes leads to sorrow. The tragedy comes happiness, which like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Fortunately, ashed in a fire egocentrism fertilizing land of tragic grains. Love so great and pure stands next to the hatred. Hatred, if I look at it, is very close neighbor love.
How is that possible? Love, hate ... Well, ask yourself a simple enough question: how it is to be connected to someone so hard all his life, consistently, every day and every night, that someone so honest and putting hate?
Black and White. The top and bottom. Heat and cold ...
friend is not sugar cube. A friend is not a pill called sweetener. None of the brown or white guy in a paper pouch. A friend is a salt ...
Salt retains water, water likes to evaporate. Salt crushes hard ice, ice cold freeze the ground. Salt cares about freshness, because the freshness of feeds mold. Salt stops the words, deeds for which lose their meaning ...
Twilight, at night when the stars lampionach, shrouded in the mists of dawn walks cautiously through the forest a young doe. Beside her two calves stupid. Spring, break the dry twigs, arouse those who still need to sleep. Much further to the right, between the pine and spruce, mature mare. She heard screaming last summer fallow by the pack of wolves zapędzonego between Blind Rock. He had no chance. She already knows the taste of the joy of giving birth and salty taste tears of suffering after the loss of a loved one in the herd ...
Feel salt outlined in the woods, in a wooden paśniku set by humans. This is also hay smelling meadow and singing birds. Hay, frozen bark of trees, stems trapped in suspended animation in the hard ground ... This is the day after ... and the salt is life ...
friend is salt. Sometimes a sharp pain in the torn wound, while another time, a question that no one else will put you. A friend is a salt ... remember? These words? How do they sound? Ah, yes ... I know ... salt of the earth ...
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