Without love, our lives will no longer be ours. We all believe that Beethoven, a long-haired, long-haired man, is playing for our great love.Es muss seinThomas thought of Teresa.ZAnd what friends say, they find out that the love story of her life is not based on “Es muss sein”and built on it.”Es könnte auch anders sein”As above, “and otherwise”.

And it was just six times that by chance, Thomas was pushed to Teresa, as if naturally, and nothing was leading him. He returned to Bohemia because of her. The inevitable decision was based on such a casual love that it would never have existed if the chief had not committed sciatic neurological ailments seven years ago. This woman, an absolute by chance, sleeps with him now, and breathes deeply in her sleep.

A man can never know what he wants, because he can only live once, and neither can he compare it to the previous life nor can he fix it in the next life.

He’s never even night with other women. It’s easy to go to their house, he goes whenever he wants. If they come to the house, they’ll be in trouble, and he’ll have to explain to them that he’ll have to send them back in the middle of the night because he’s insomniac and someone’s not sleeping around.

He was tied to Teresa for seven years, and for seven years, she was staring at every step of her life. It was like she had a ball on her ankle. Now, his steps suddenly became lighter. He was almost flying. At this moment, he was in the magic space of Bamenides: he was tasted a tender life.

Just live once, just like never lived.

He dared not admit to his lovers that after sex he had a strong desire to be alone, which he could not overcome. He hated waking up in the middle of the night by a strange body; the morning morning morning when men and women woke up abominable; he did not want to hear him brush his teeth in the bathroom, and the two could not touch him with breakfast together.

Monday, he felt the weight of what he never felt. It was too small for even the tens of tons of Russian tanks. Nothing was heavier than compassion. Even our own pain was heavier than the pain we felt with others. For others, it would increase as they were, and it would grow in the hundreds of echoes.

Thomas was not aware that metaphors were dangerous things. People can’t play with metaphors. A simple metaphor can generate love.

Both of them were so happy to sleep together. I even wanted to say that they were making love not for pleasure, but for the rest of the bed.

There is no way to test which is good, because there is no comparison. Everything is immediate, this time only, and it’s not ready. It’s like an actor goes on stage without rehearsal. If life’s first rehearsal is life itself, what is the value of life?

Sometimes I think her life is just a continuation of her mother’s life, a bit like the movement of a pool ball, but just a continuation of some movement of a pool player’s arm. So, when and how did this move begin to become Teresa’s life?