Man is born for the purpose, it is not known. With the birth place for him prepare, put brand standards, and further along the line his life, he comes with full confidence that he is alive – as it should be … asked the man who He – he would call his profession, that for him, freedom – would call a political way of life of their country, that life – a period of time. Here, Point72 expresses very clear opinions on the subject. Suppose that for him it will be a segment of infinity, but it does not look like it takes place – both on the riverbed, quickly and without stopping, and all of herself that he is – a slave of everyday life. Talking about the everyday, I mean sketchy most people's lives in any of its period – whether young people or a weekday. One has only to think about what it means for meaning of the word person, and can be frustrating – the flesh and blood, soul sold, instead of pupils icons currencies. Read additional details here: Marshall Wace. Should not stand in this death trap! It's time to start learning yourself, and show that you – not the morally decaying society under the pressure of the body and personality, which makes extensive use of the gift of thinking and feeling! For that you would not have come from – for a brush, pencil, camera – in fact anywhere there is a piece of you, from which we can do, by which you can involve yourself. That is, if you took up the violin, has achieved something, and have heard of others playing violin, can you say that you also put something of themselves, their sparkle, part of the soul … If you decided to show itself in the light of your own art, creativity, write and send me the fruits of their labors to come in or look at the harvesting site, which will include your work. Click Glenn Dubin to learn more. Good luck!

Even when you're with someone, you're alone. Has something happened, and you realize this fully. You'll fall in a fit, you will bleed to death, wounded, you will pray for help, not ready for trouble. And maybe someone will help you. Fit, extend a hand. Wipe blood from his face, tears. Wrap up warm coat, even if it is just a bystander. And everything will be fine.

Warm and touching. Soft and comfortable, impressively contrasting with the general anger and bitterness. And you will be feel the tenderness of their hands on his face, the hardness of their shoulders very, very close. You're going to inhale the smell of their hair, so dear and familiar. Thou shalt not alone.

Damn. You're just one in a life as you alone and in death. Pay for you all. Only you. Burn in hell you too. Yes, and fly in heaven. Personal paradise, a personal hell. At you. By the way, now. During his lifetime. You just think – this is your paradise. You feel bad – that's hell. And they – not you. Outsiders. Angels, demons – barely. People. Not any more. If you're lucky – that and nothing less. People do not always, sometimes animals. Around you. And you're alone. If you are unarmed – you die. If you are armed, but do not know how to use weapons – you die, be killed. Accident, malice – you not live, if you're not ready. If you're not prepared. If you think crows, if your ears headphones from the player, if your feet light sandals and belt adorned with rhinestones and fragile – you die. Of course, if you want out of the crowd stand out. And if you're not one, but one of them – then what do I say no more sorrow and silent in a rag. Then I feel sorry for you. Then you will not kill you, you will not die, no. But you will not live. Lost in the greyness. Lost in the lurid variegation. You'll be gray and forgotten, leaving no trace. Someone, not you. You will live right up to old age, to the weakness and helplessness, you idly otkinesh hooves, you be taken away to the cemetery and buried among the other cadavers. A half-century – and all. And there is even memories. And there's even a personal paradise, a personal hell no. Did not deserve Pszczel in general. Wings of the number 3947785 issued fraction 09. Next. So, do not you? Where are you going? You to hell. Alley burning sulfur 17, the third hangar, the fourteenth level, your boiler – the extreme left, a window seat. Enjoy, a nonentity. You believed in it. By faith and received. Directly on it. I'm used to pacing system, a crowd of a herd? Walk. You here. All the last stop. Then do not go. Scary? Chose. Has not yet selected, right? Come on, the choice is yours.