About the secret relationship of people and things

The Old sweater, gloves, school bag - some things we experience very special feelings. Maybe that's why they do not throw rises hand.

About the secret relationship of people and things

My knitted gloves, bought twelve years ago in New York remained the seat of bright orange seats in a subway station in Paris. Treacherously forgotten at the end of a hard day of February, when the head did not realize anything. Miserable, in fact, an excuse ...

I always felt keenly orphaned items. This is my property seemed to me very strange, so I particularly about it did not spread, you never know what people think! Over time, reading the book, I learned that it is not the only one. Here Plato Voshchev of "Pit" - goes around the world, collecting all sorts of withered leaves, stones and stuff and saves his attention from obscurity. And at the same time and himself - from melancholy existence ... That Innocent Ann - spare faded violets, forgotten in the book, the fog on the glass, willow, which broke the mad Ophelia ... That Alexander Kushner's superb poem about ready to cry antique sugar bowl emerging from their masters ...

How to leave this thing when we met recently and have chosen each other?

Our secret relationship with things, it turns out okay. And the sadness of loss of things can be experienced acutely as human beings. I'm here, for example, a long time could not help but think about his forgotten gloves. All imagined, as it is silly, they called me speechless when I got up and walked out of the subway. All the same twelve years we Akin. I do not know how it was in Moscow, after New York, maybe bad, but because they're used to me, and I to them. And I do not remember them at a February evening. It may, in fact, they are now in Paris, after Moscow, and even better, but for some reason it seems that nothing is better. Because I do without them - it is bad. I go and merznu and new do not buy. To prove loyalty ... In a strange logic: it seems to me that they feel bad without me, because I feel bad without them. Aberration consciousness lover / lover / owner. Inability and unwillingness to understand the other. Maybe, in actual fact, this is only another and waited for him somewhere forgotten, on some bright orange chair finally left alone. How to understand this, sitting locked up within himself and looking at life through the recess of his understanding? Now here I go to get me on the occasion of shirts for themselves suddenly changed owners. What do they think this through? I've got one friend as a pencil, with a thin retractable pencil, which I have for many years very much value and who frantically check in the pocket there. And he will say that it is about my attitude towards it? In the very back of the wardrobe keep the green with a brown vest, which I bought, for example, in six years. I remember when and where and what next vests were others - but no, I chose this. How can throw it, if we had met so long ago, and if I told her he said: "You are mine"? Almost gave his word of honor. And it languish in the closet, where she might have suffocated and died from her my love and fidelity ...