I like to paint my lips and then leave kisses in my notebooks. I would like to be in strangers, but so far it has not happened.
I love to get wet in the rain, in the shower, it doesn't matter, I just love to get wet. I would like it with you, but you never once agreed.
Crazy like it after the passing night - foggy sleepy, barely coming morning. Its smell, the color of the sky, cars and people rushing to work ...
And that wadded, incomprehensible state after sleeping for more than a day. I call it the creative state ... how can I explain to you, a kind of slow flight.
I love the aroma of coffee and if it cools a little, no sugar, no cream - nothing more. I would like you to do this too, but somehow it rarely turned out sadly for you.
I like to dash off somewhere for no reason, get on any minibus, go to the other end of the city. I would like to do it together, but you thought it was nonsense and stupidity, I believed it as if you were God to me.
I loved and I don't know if I will love to give warmth again, not in return, just like that, aimlessly. With tenderness to surround people around, even enemies ... and then feel strange and transcendental ...
I would like at least someone to understand, go crazy together with me. From this thought, happiness and inexplicable trembling spreads through my body ... But be that as it may, to some extent I felt good with you. For this, my most sincere and deep thanks to you.
