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They say the world is a special person
They say that in the world there are special people.
He's the one who sits next to me in the bus, when your life manages to fail at a time when personal cross becomes too heavy to carry it on his back. When your hands are shaking and voice was probably shaking would be if the stone in his chest did not stop to speak.
When everything becomes cloudy, becomes not important; when connected, as the strings are broken, and the sense seems to be found – it seems foolish fantasy, a justification of its own futility. It was at this point a special person takes the seat next to you. Silently look at you, and then he says something simple, but painfully, to appreciative laughter necessary. What gives you the energy to get a few more days.
You smile and even joke. Shyly covering my face with both Krassimira recently hands, wanting to hide his awkward, but a clear weakness, so clearly seen by the neighbor. But deep down you know that nobody blames you. And it makes you feel better.
A man goes out with you at one stop. Sometimes escorted to the house, but after, as expected all the creators of good deeds goes on around the world. To help the rest of the doomed.
Soon he is met somewhere else. He finds a tearful, but resolute in their own destruction. Burned-out, downtrodden, pain-filled to the brim. In silence they measure your steps the road, limply trailing somewhere to the end of the road.
The man catches them at the edge. That edge is what you want – high-rise building on the edge or path in your favorite Park, street, Centre, doors, porches... everyone this is your.
But that's where they found the man. Sunny by nature, with dim lights in the eyes, he says:
– Can I be of help?
And people can't say no to him. Initially hostile, alienated himself and his own desperate unhappiness, they suddenly answer, revealing a simple passerby.
– Yes you can! – so often they say. And many, a little later, add: – Make... anything. Tell me something, touch me... Just don't leave me alone. And, I beg you, don't be a thief nor a bastard, nor a deceiver. Don't be bad. I can't survive this.
And the pain comes out. It covers a huge wave, and body together with the souls shudder and tremble. Destitute, the people choke with sobs and their own hopeless, absorbing and hopeless grief. And pressed to the man.
And he who, following their request, a desperate cry of supplication, embracing them with warm, careful hands and swayed, not letting go, like wayward children. He does not let people as long as bright pain, suddenly come out, do not leave exhausted heart. While calm from childhood will not envelop their consciousness, anima the willies.
Then the person is forgiven and to forgive: tears and for a moment of weakness for stories about life, hate and pain. For all those vices, which we are so ashamed, but which we all have.
And people accepted, comforted, again, try to live. If not for yourself, then for those who, as Man, has not abandoned them in the hour of darkness. They again believe in goodness and, just a little bit, in a miracle, because such Savior – like a gift from heaven. They believe in themselves and, sometimes, even that can be the same Person, not indifferent to others ' emptiness.
Paul Graham: Where to live now in order to succeed
Become a person of LIGHT!
After all, desperate people unrestrained need someone there when they run out of power. Who will be the wall before the end of the road, when the whole world faded, and the future a joyous, bright – collapsed house of cards.
We all need that kind of person.
And these people would be a lot, if each of us decided to make them for others.published
Author: Elena Korf
Source: sobiratelzvezd.ru/govoryat-v-mire-est-osobennyj-chelovek/
He's the one who sits next to me in the bus, when your life manages to fail at a time when personal cross becomes too heavy to carry it on his back. When your hands are shaking and voice was probably shaking would be if the stone in his chest did not stop to speak.
When everything becomes cloudy, becomes not important; when connected, as the strings are broken, and the sense seems to be found – it seems foolish fantasy, a justification of its own futility. It was at this point a special person takes the seat next to you. Silently look at you, and then he says something simple, but painfully, to appreciative laughter necessary. What gives you the energy to get a few more days.
You smile and even joke. Shyly covering my face with both Krassimira recently hands, wanting to hide his awkward, but a clear weakness, so clearly seen by the neighbor. But deep down you know that nobody blames you. And it makes you feel better.
A man goes out with you at one stop. Sometimes escorted to the house, but after, as expected all the creators of good deeds goes on around the world. To help the rest of the doomed.
Soon he is met somewhere else. He finds a tearful, but resolute in their own destruction. Burned-out, downtrodden, pain-filled to the brim. In silence they measure your steps the road, limply trailing somewhere to the end of the road.
The man catches them at the edge. That edge is what you want – high-rise building on the edge or path in your favorite Park, street, Centre, doors, porches... everyone this is your.
But that's where they found the man. Sunny by nature, with dim lights in the eyes, he says:
– Can I be of help?
And people can't say no to him. Initially hostile, alienated himself and his own desperate unhappiness, they suddenly answer, revealing a simple passerby.
– Yes you can! – so often they say. And many, a little later, add: – Make... anything. Tell me something, touch me... Just don't leave me alone. And, I beg you, don't be a thief nor a bastard, nor a deceiver. Don't be bad. I can't survive this.
And the pain comes out. It covers a huge wave, and body together with the souls shudder and tremble. Destitute, the people choke with sobs and their own hopeless, absorbing and hopeless grief. And pressed to the man.
And he who, following their request, a desperate cry of supplication, embracing them with warm, careful hands and swayed, not letting go, like wayward children. He does not let people as long as bright pain, suddenly come out, do not leave exhausted heart. While calm from childhood will not envelop their consciousness, anima the willies.
Then the person is forgiven and to forgive: tears and for a moment of weakness for stories about life, hate and pain. For all those vices, which we are so ashamed, but which we all have.
And people accepted, comforted, again, try to live. If not for yourself, then for those who, as Man, has not abandoned them in the hour of darkness. They again believe in goodness and, just a little bit, in a miracle, because such Savior – like a gift from heaven. They believe in themselves and, sometimes, even that can be the same Person, not indifferent to others ' emptiness.
Paul Graham: Where to live now in order to succeed
Become a person of LIGHT!
After all, desperate people unrestrained need someone there when they run out of power. Who will be the wall before the end of the road, when the whole world faded, and the future a joyous, bright – collapsed house of cards.
We all need that kind of person.
And these people would be a lot, if each of us decided to make them for others.published
Author: Elena Korf
Source: sobiratelzvezd.ru/govoryat-v-mire-est-osobennyj-chelovek/
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