I found it in Edinborough when we were looking for some nice pub, away from crowded tourist paths. We lost of course in some strange surroundings. This graffiti was painted on black, destroyed door.
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.
2 comments:
hi, It was pleasure and something unspoken to read your blog. But tell me please what is it?
I found it in Edinborough when we were looking for some nice pub, away from crowded tourist paths. We lost of course in some strange surroundings. This graffiti was painted on black, destroyed door.
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