Из душевного жара либо пепел, либо деяние.
Sometimes memories deliver much more pain than what you actually remember. You carefully hiding all the worst and most painful in the far corners of mind, hoping you've never come across them. But why does it always turns out that these memories stronger than you, and every day, every minute, every second, bursting forth with one sole purpose - to remind of its existence and brought excruciating pain and the already wounded heart. They are in a dream, remind yourself, as soon as such an opportunity, and gradually reduce you mad. In those moments when even the strongest man seems to break under the weight of the cargo, memories fill it to overflowing. They are forced to disconnect the mind, my heart stops beating, or catastrophically slow, the pulse is off scale. It becomes difficult to breathe, quite simply painful and frightening. Tears choke, but weep not, you just gasp in silence, eyes tunic, dream of crying, that would have arisen had disappeared in the throat lump, but it does not work, you can not. It takes quite a bit, someone a few minutes, but someone did, and seconds, but you always think that an eternity. Such moments leave no trace, but you can remember them and this only strengthens their position and they move from the far corners of the mind, occupying the best seats.