The story of the pears.


I Bought in the market such as pear.
too were delicious. Ripe, white with pink barrels.
Mmmm... how delicious it will be!
Cake can be done.
and then the duck to bake, guests to invite!
More and caramelizing that really was sweet!
Plans, in General, I had a lot of these pears.

Arriving home, I looked at them, tried it and suddenly realized that I want an Apple Charlotte. It Apple!

What I just did to pears become apples!

to Persuade them, telling them all the benefits of apples.
Criticized the shape, color, taste, and generally I know better who and what they need to be. the
Cried and begged as I vital apples.
Manipulated with appeals to guilt and shame. After all, I saved them from a hideous death, to rot somewhere in a dirty box, cold basement! And I hard earned money to buy them! the
turned away, ignored their presence in my apartment.
Punished with silence and a cold expression.
Convinced that they are not pears, they thought it was, but in reality they are the real apples.
Angry and shouted that they have the right to want apples and they are required to become! the
Accused them that they lied to me, seduced on the market, I initially went there for apples!
argued that they need to skim from the tree on which they were ripe, and choose your own path - Apple!
Threatened to throw them in the trash.
Take a sharp knife, cut off the excess, achieving the desired look, but the taste-it was pear!
Defiantly ate oranges, smacking his lips.
Closed my eyes, swallowed, without chewing, pieces of pear, but the finish took oskoma disappointment.
seriously Ill and not broken hands, legs, and only apples could save me...
Sent pears to a therapist, that he finally opened them the Apple core.
Went with them on steam...
Then fortunetellers, psychics, astrologers...

But pears did not become apples.
I was exhausted and desperate.
I Watched every day for pears and mourned the impossibility and futility of all attempts to change them.
Pear, quietly lying on the table, because what's a pear to do.

as Time went on, life went on.

I could:

to Accept. Pretended that love pears, always wanted them and I so approx. to Cook a compote, bake pies, chop in a salad. With each day becoming not sensitive to what you eat and what do you want. I began to disorder of the stomach, ulcer, etc. Or each time a pear would have to drink a glass of sparkling wine.

Accept. Having lived a lot of anger, pain, sadness, recognizing the value and feature of pears is their right to be pears, their right to want apples to go with a shopping bag on the market. And there are already peering slowly, listening to themselves and choose what really want.

to Fight. Will I think I will make these pears apples, why would I not worth it. All your energy, feelings, strength, life I will spend on something that is not very wanted, and not even try Apple Charlotte, which was the dream!

While I was trying to imagine the options, it is not noticed that the pear rotted.

Статья выложена в ознакомительных целях. Все права на текст принадлежат ресурсу и/или автору (B17 B17)

Что интересного на портале?