(с) xxiv.vii.mm, dee-jooz.hwc ## ######## %% %% ## %% #%#### %% ## %% %% #%#%# %% %% %%##%# %% #%##%# %% %% #%##%# %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %%##%# %% %% %% %% %% %% %% %%##%# %%##%% %%##%# %% %% %% %% %% %% #%##%% #%##%# %% #%#### %% %% #%#### #%##%# ####%# Они все медленно исчезают из моей жизни. некоторые навсегда, некоторые навремя. незначимые вещи, незаметные,strange faces with turn over time into dark spots as if dragging on gray fog. On one of the cloudiest summers, reserving the right plunge our everyday life into the abyss of monotony, we increasingly considered the question of the need to disappear somewhere in our fog, fall into the whirlpool of a blind spot, get away from the cyclical reality. quietly taking a step through the threshold of the twilight zone, we found ourselves in a land of twilight familiar from the very first day, giving rise to our distorted perception of painfully familiar forms and objects that destroy oppressive stereotypes and meaningless taboos puppet city, which sometimes treats us too cruelly and unceremoniously. Taking a break from our favorite activities, we crawled out from cozy holes, inhaling the refreshing dampness of the air woven thick branches into the darkening horizon. we were going to a magical circle of his club, without talking, communicating only with those running, with intense glances, like predators stalking the night trail huntingunder the covers of thickening blue-black clouds, occasionally letting glimpses of the sun through their frowning brows, as if fleeing from the twilight god of shadows. At that moment he lived in each of us. Hiding in inaccessible depths of the subconscious, he was looking forward to his cherished hour. He was not senselessly cruel and merciless, he he was also not open and responsive, he was silent and strange, like and his kingdom of branching twilight, he knew that he would be called, he was confident in his ghostly power, feeling the support of hundreds like him. God of shadows, sparkling with fiery sparks in our eyes, poured through the veins with a chilling fire, intoxicating poison from for whom there was no means of salvation. Blurred shadows fell on the cooling slabs under our feet. The people gathered here were determined, strong, but at the same time dreamily calm, as if what was happening in circle outlined by dust he dreamed in a confused, foggy dream, from the kind of dreams thatremain in memory as silent slides. everyone a person taking part in a twilight ritual rite, now he was thinking only about the most important thing in his life - about that, and only about why he was born into this cloudy light, oh individual strip code of zebra-shaped fate, about how, without whereupon his whole being loses any sense of monotony in cyclical prostration of the river of time. each of us felt missionary - the god living inside himself, the views were tense, they rushed far into the twilight of the subconscious, trying to discern the luminous thread of Ariadne in it, only having grabbed hold of which, it is possible to imagine your future a path through the darkness of everyday life. Hearts beat in a common rhythm, glances drowning in darkness meet, finding a mate, twilight branches in thick fog hide one figure after another, dissolving it in the twilight of the kingdom shadows, thoughts are cleared of all meaninglessly superfluous, merging with the infinity of the most important things for each of our tormented souls, material garbage, cold house walls and stupid-eyed dolls inhabiting them, dissolve in the fog under the scrutinywith the all-consuming gaze of the god of shadows, watching what is happening in the cozy blind spot of my view of an alien world. This is it the beginning of the countdown, unity with the original. From here it arose everything, everything that now has and does not matter to me, then, with what I agree with and what I contradict, what I dream about and what what am I running from? my life, my death, and my river flow time - frenzied and sad, crystal-golden and overgrown green mud, it all began with darkness, peering into which, each of us was gilded by the sunlight of a thread that indicated the most important path.
Shadow Club - They are all slowly disappearing from my life. Some forever, some temporarily. Insignificant things, unnoticed, incomprehensible faces, over time turn into dark spots, as if covered in gray fog.
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