To Nestle On Your Hand And The Nobility:

To nestle on your hand and the nobility: both today, and tomorrow, and still the day after tomorrow it will be. And you will be always. I, probably, never will believe in it. So does not happen. I would tell that such not to transfer - it is possible to go mad, but is not assured, whether it is possible in application to me such to tell. I love you, Egor. I love also all. You do not become angry about me. I am not guilty that I love you. It you - such, you such that I cannot love you slightly. I am not guilty that atoms in me so are located, it they have organised this foolish my orientation on you. And that I will do - not cubes after all, will not reconstruct. Here splash to me in soul gasoline, set fire - all will burn out, - and will begin at first. I very much love you. And in general - so somebody else lives? There, where there was a heart (by the way, how it at you?), all burns. A constant condition of alarm. Clear comprehension of a hopelessness, hopelessness. Usual bent for to you.