Dec 10, 2005 21:36
The past is past. Bygone, and should be long ago forgotten. Dwelling on it brings no joy - the wise man remarked. There's no wisdom. Sometimes it happens that one can't let it go, that it erupts from that somewhere.
Míg elmerülök a vízben, nem érzem úgy, a dolgok részesévé kell lennem. A részvétellenség; az észrevétlenség. In such moments I can fancy so much, yet nothing knowing myself. Is it a flaw? Or is it a characteristic of mine I should be grateful for?
It was long ago as well, then I think, nodding, smiling happily. Yet there's much I should work on forgetting.
Tatoeba. When I first played the main character in Thornton Wilder's drama. What happened there? I was accompanied by someone else they thought would...it's no use thinking about this anymore.
memories,
rant,
personal