http://gize.livejournal.com/93608.html

"Океан - это то, что стоит между нами и нефтью. Уничтожить океан. Добыть нефть."

http://gize.livejournal.com/93311.html

Охота иногда сюда чего-нибудь написать...но что?
Теперь я понимаю слова дона Хуана "Оставь людей в покое".
Мне практически нечего сказать массам.

http://gize.livejournal.com/93090.html

http://gize.livejournal.com/92687.html

Хочется целоваться )



А пора спать.

http://gize.livejournal.com/92435.html

Билет в Москву на первое июня. Не забыть бы улететь.
Обратно, к счастью, уже восьмого.


А сейчас за окном разгорается рассвет. Сначала было темно и цвета розовые, фиолетовые и темно-синие. Теперь ярче, светящийся оранжевый и желтый, уже почти светло. Шесть тридцать. Через пару часов можно ехать кататься. Можно и сейчас, но, Юлиан сказал вчера, рано утром не будет волн...

http://gize.livejournal.com/92408.html

http://gize.livejournal.com/91887.html

I'm so feminine


mmmm

http://gize.livejournal.com/91620.html

http://gize.livejournal.com/91229.html

UPD: author - user masacra. По просьбе немногочисленных случайных читателей.

http://gize.livejournal.com/90730.html

"Выдумал я лишь те детали, которые несущественны. Поэтому всякое сходство между героями книги и живыми людьми является злонамеренным."

http://gize.livejournal.com/90487.html

Later I found a dry quilt in a locker the sea had not reached. I took off my wet things, wrapped myself in the quilt and lay down for a while. As my anger abated I reflected that the sea, even in its worst moments, has been kinder to me than any person I have known. This made me angry all over again, because someday I want to meet a person as kind and balanced as the sea.

Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking — why is a grown man talking this way? For your answer, you must hear a minimalist composition performed by the wind, watch dolphins play in moonlight, and listen to the whales singing as you are rocked to sleep by the sea. If this happens to you once, you are still fit material for human company. If it happens to you every night for several years, you can visit the people who live on land, but you will not belong to them ever again.

http://gize.livejournal.com/90131.html

Then the boat began to roll violently, a sign of a big wave. I looked over my right shoulder to see a wall of water approaching from the North. The wave grew steeper and began to break, and rolled the boat down so the port side rail went in. Just then another wave, a reflected wave from the nearby coast, broke across the port side and the two waves completely covered the boat. I was seeing (and tasting) the much-feared "rogue wave," the multiplying effect of two or more waves that meet and break at once. As I was lifted off my feet I wrapped my arms around a shroud and watched the water pour through the open hatch into the cabin.

In a moment the water receded and my feet found the deck again. I dove into the cabin and closed the hatch. Everything inside the cabin was wet. All my clothes, bedding, radios, charts, everything.

I very much want to tell you that I whistled a tune as I toweled off my charts and electronic gear, but I was just too tired, scared and angry. I was completely wet and I hadn't even made out Panama's lights for my trouble. I crouched in the cabin and screamed my frustration. I said unkind things about the sea. I used words normally reserved for women of low character, usually spoken by men of low character. I tried to invent new oaths.

This was different from several years ago. There was no terror, no respectful silence now. I was in the position of the child that knows it is loved unconditionally. I was disrespectful to the sea because I know she loves me. She will punish me, perhaps even kill me, but she will not stop loving me. I know this.

http://gize.livejournal.com/89893.html

Всё лишь на миг, что людьми создается,
Блекнет восторг новизны,
Но неизменной, как грусть, остается
Связь через сны.

Успокоенье... Забыть бы... Уснуть бы...
Сладость опущенных век...
Сны открывают грядущего судьбы,
Вяжут навек.

Все мне, что бы ни думал украдкой,
Ясно, как чистый кристалл.
Нас неразрывной и вечной загадкой
Сон сочетал.

Я не молю: "О, Господь, уничтожи
Муку грядущего дня!"
Нет, я молю: "О пошли ему, Боже,
Сон про меня!"

Пусть я при встрече с тобою бледнею, -
Как эти встречи грустны!
Тайна одна. Мы бессильны пред нею:
Связь через сны

Марина Цветаева

http://gize.livejournal.com/89843.html