And like already had the cube experience, emotions and experiences in well design. Just like in the picture. Direct just exactly.
But you're happy take a step back and the heel sticks left lonely cube. Thought, meaning or emotion driven - anything.
Well hell, how so!
Like it all came together, here it is, the design! And according to the instructions everything! Where the cube too much?!
And then hurt, empty and working on the Assembly design does not please...
Life's a provocateur. Makes it impossible to rely on rules, norms. Just catch hold of "accuracy", "efficiency", "morality", "family", as here and glide feet as the pebbles on the shore. And when tearing the soul of melancholy fierce, no rules will help. Why? Yes, because they are not yours, these rules.
Life is still the Creator. As the task asks, though fall. Nastasia lives here in the mansion, and there sated and comfortable, and everything right - the husband, Christianity, child birth. And in the evenings all the time crying fierce tears, from sadness and misunderstanding of the black insidious. And in the morning nothing is all, matron.
Life - he was still a sage. Always displays the correct paths. Because the infidel, tormented you, pull this stone and want to leave. And well, if you reset will be able to, somehow, pulling on you and life wisdom for you not for the future.
Life - he was still a magician. Sometimes these "pretzel" gives... That kind of love and then it turns out that it does not like, and a reflection of someone else. And so it happens. And sometimes the closest is not close to you, and you then "real" and not seen to see. And so it happens.
Life - he is more a storyteller. Tales of making things up. Tell them. Some even begin to believe that is not a fairy tale at all, but a true story. It is wonderful. After all, how can it be a true story, as this tale is written of you, of your hands. And craving people believe in fairy tales, and looking for them. In churches, in theaters, in books, in the offices of psychologists.
Here are the tales of these compose to you. Someone else can read, but have to live on their own.