black_dragon: (duty)
I don't understand how people are able to write two or more fics at the same time.
My two fics just fighting inside my poor head – the winner is going to get all the space to himself. And I'm afraid to think what will happen to the loser. Sith, I need USB that plugs directly into the head and downloads stories to the computer, without me typing it.
black_dragon: (duty)
I don't understand how people are able to write two or more fics at the same time.
My two fics just fighting inside my poor head – the winner is going to get all the space to himself. And I'm afraid to think what will happen to the loser. Sith, I need USB that plugs directly into the head and downloads stories to the computer, without me typing it.
black_dragon: (silver dragon)

In about 20 hours I'll be on my way to my beloved Ukraine, to the one of the most beautiful cities in the world, Chernivtsi... First time in 12 years. And second time since our emigration 18 years ago…

black_dragon: (silver dragon)

In about 20 hours I'll be on my way to my beloved Ukraine, to the one of the most beautiful cities in the world, Chernivtsi... First time in 12 years. And second time since our emigration 18 years ago…

black_dragon: (daddy)
Do you know what the right way to eat strawberries is? No, no, no… Whatever you have in mind – forget it. The right way to eat strawberries is…To be waken up on your birthday at 7 o’clock by Uncle Petya, who brought a big milk can full of the first strawberries from Aunt Luba’s and his garden. The strawberries are still not fully ripe, but I must have berries for my birthday, according to Uncle Petya. The same Uncle Petya who's sure that “There aren’t not ripe strawberries. Only not enough sugar.”
***
Uncle Petya had already passed away. There is no garden anymore. The milk can… Maybe Aunt Luba still has it somewhere. But for the last 18 years every morning before I wake up on my birthday there IS Uncle Petya with a big milk can full of strawberries.
And I pray to G-d that for the next 80 years it will not change.

x-posted Whitegold Dragon
black_dragon: (daddy)
Do you know what the right way to eat strawberries is? No, no, no… Whatever you have in mind – forget it. The right way to eat strawberries is…To be waken up on your birthday at 7 o’clock by Uncle Petya, who brought a big milk can full of the first strawberries from Aunt Luba’s and his garden. The strawberries are still not fully ripe, but I must have berries for my birthday, according to Uncle Petya. The same Uncle Petya who's sure that “There aren’t not ripe strawberries. Only not enough sugar.”
***
Uncle Petya had already passed away. There is no garden anymore. The milk can… Maybe Aunt Luba still has it somewhere. But for the last 18 years every morning before I wake up on my birthday there IS Uncle Petya with a big milk can full of strawberries.
And I pray to G-d that for the next 80 years it will not change.

x-posted Whitegold Dragon
black_dragon: (want)
How old I am? Two… Yeah, I think two. I’m sitting very close to the asphalt. Am I in a pram? Looks like it. It’s my bright orange pram. No, it’s not orange. It’s blue with green. Mom is pushing it. We are going to see Grandma and Grandpa, I think. At last we are near their home. The asphalt is very pretty – black, wet and sparkly under the street lamps' light. Something is shining on the pram's wheel. What is it? It's a candy wrapper stuck to the wheel.

x-posted Whitegold Dragon
black_dragon: (want)
How old I am? Two… Yeah, I think two. I’m sitting very close to the asphalt. Am I in a pram? Looks like it. It’s my bright orange pram. No, it’s not orange. It’s blue with green. Mom is pushing it. We are going to see Grandma and Grandpa, I think. At last we are near their home. The asphalt is very pretty – black, wet and sparkly under the street lamps' light. Something is shining on the pram's wheel. What is it? It's a candy wrapper stuck to the wheel.

x-posted Whitegold Dragon
black_dragon: (kill)
There are no two cities as unlike as these two. Unlike in everything: history, architecture, language and continent. The only thing that connects them – my everlasting, everyday-growing love.
One of the cities is mine by birthright and no force in the word can tell me that it's not mine anymore. You can't delete sixteen years of mutual love and happiness just because somebody told you so. Or because you are not living there anymore. Really, it's again from the poem by A. Galich: "Don't call me, my Home, to help you! Don't call me! I'll come by myself!"
The second one… It was mutual love at first sight. I was standing in the middle of the biggest crossroad I've ever seen in my life, understanding that my ten-year life-without-Home was ended. I found myself a new Home. And a new Love.
Now I'm back again to my life-without-Home. Again after six years of happiness I'm in the place I call "my private Purgatory"…

Read more... )

x-posted Whitegold Dragon
black_dragon: (kill)
There are no two cities as unlike as these two. Unlike in everything: history, architecture, language and continent. The only thing that connects them – my everlasting, everyday-growing love.
One of the cities is mine by birthright and no force in the word can tell me that it's not mine anymore. You can't delete sixteen years of mutual love and happiness just because somebody told you so. Or because you are not living there anymore. Really, it's again from the poem by A. Galich: "Don't call me, my Home, to help you! Don't call me! I'll come by myself!"
The second one… It was mutual love at first sight. I was standing in the middle of the biggest crossroad I've ever seen in my life, understanding that my ten-year life-without-Home was ended. I found myself a new Home. And a new Love.
Now I'm back again to my life-without-Home. Again after six years of happiness I'm in the place I call "my private Purgatory"…

Read more... )

x-posted Whitegold Dragon
black_dragon: (Default)
До чего доводят походы в кино………

Кровь течет по асфальту, кровь течет по земле...
Я не знаю, коль скоро вновь увидится мне
Лес, усыпанный трупами тех, кто любил,
Тех, кто забыл, что он был...
black_dragon: (Default)
До чего доводят походы в кино………

Кровь течет по асфальту, кровь течет по земле...
Я не знаю, коль скоро вновь увидится мне
Лес, усыпанный трупами тех, кто любил,
Тех, кто забыл, что он был...

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