agonia eesti v3 |
Agonia.Net | Poliitika | Mission | Kontakt | Osale | ||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||||
Artikkel Ühendused Võistlus Essee Multimeedia Personals Luule Press Proosa _QUOTE | ||||||
![]() |
|
|||||
![]() |
agonia ![]()
![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Kontakt |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-02-28 | [This text should be read in english] | Submited by Dan.
You said: "I'll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one. Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong and my heart -like something dead- lies buried. How long can I let my mind moulder in this place? Wherever I turn, wherever I look, I see the black ruins of my life, here, where I've spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally." You won't find a new country, won't find another shore. This city will always pursue you. You'll walk the same streets, grow old in the same neighbourhoods, turn grey in these same houses. You'll always end up in this city. Don't hope for things elsewhere: there's no ship for you, there's no road. Now that you've wasted your life here, in this small corner, you've destroyed it everywhere in the world.
|
||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|||
![]() | |||||||||
![]() |
Kirjanduse, luule ja kultuuri kodu. Kirjuta ja naudi artikleid, esseesid, proosat, klassikalist luulet ja võistlusi. | ![]() | |||||||
![]() |
Mistahes materjalide reprodutseerimine ilma meie nõusolekuta on rangelt keelatud.
Autoriõigus 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privaatsus- ja avaldamispoliitika