Asvallagata – we were missed there many times. We knew the name of the street and how looked a house and a fence. The name of the street become a vulgar word in jokes: “och, the weather is so windy today, asvallagata!!!”
The moment which matters, is only the moment that lasts. I deeply believe in that, however with a sorrow, I accept it not only because moments pass, but also because I forget them. I realized it when I was reading my old entries of my blog. To remind yourself of those moments is an unexpected benefit of diary, which was created for very mundane aim – to keep my English, at least, at the same level or improve it a bit. I’m describing then, even though I also agree with an opinion of Olga Tokarczkuk that moment written down gets mutilated, like a painted sunrise unavoidably becames a kitsch.
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