Sometimes everything seems to be good. Nearby is a beloved person, in the soul - calm, in life - the long -awaited harmony. But inside something whispers: "It is too good to be true." We are waiting for a catch, listen intensely, do not relax to the end. Why, when happiness finally comes, are we afraid to believe him?

How many times have you noticed (a) that the most sincere, warm and honest conversations do not happen at dinner and not on a walk, but late at night - when the light is already extinguished, the pillow is pressed to the cheek, and the voices become quieter? It is at this time that we begin to talk about the main thing.

Sometimes one light touch speaks more than dozens of confessions. Fingers sliding on the shoulder. A palm hugging without words. A fleeting back touch when you pass by. All these small movements are not just gestures. This is a language. Special, intimate, silent. And if you listen, you can understand much more than from any words.

These small, bright and incredibly delicious cakes have conquered the world with their sophistication and variety of flavors.

Once I just packed my suitcase. Not because I wanted a change, but because life gave me a choice: to stay or to survive. That's how I ended up in Germany. Without a clear plan, but with a strong heart and faith that everything would work out.

A dating site for me is an opportunity. It’s like a modern park bench, where you can stop, chat, look into the eyes of another heart. And, perhaps, find what is so lacking — warmth. Reciprocity. The joy of simple things together.

How many times have you put your suitcase back in the closet because "there's no one to go with"? How many tickets have remained unchecked and sunsets unseen, just because no one took your hand and said: "Let's go!"?

Sometimes it seems to me that I am just floating with the flow, like a leaf on the water that does not know where it will fall, but just moves on.

I don't know why it touches me so much - probably because I myself am now at some point of uncertainty, when I lack that energy, that inner fire that leads forward, not allowing doubts and fears to take over.

Sometimes you're just sitting in a cafe, drinking your cappuccino, looking out the window... And suddenly - he is. Not in the sense of "the one", no. Just a man with a goal. Inexplicable, but visible. You don't need to know him to feel it. He may be in a jacket or a simple T-shirt. He may be talking on the phone or silently drinking coffee at the next table. But there is this spark in him. This inner "I know where I'm going."

It seems to me that there is so much noise in this world that sometimes it is simply impossible to hear each other. But there are moments when words become unnecessary. When silence is not emptiness, but something warm and real. Something that warms you from the inside, even if there is no one around.

I often think that male anger is something ancient and wildly powerful.

HOW TO TEACH SOMEONE ELSE TO DANCE BACHATA?

Recently, the so-called "busification" has been actively discussed in Ukraine - an unofficial term denoting the mobilization of mobilization, restrictions on men's travel abroad and increased control over the movement of citizens. All this is accompanied by tightening rules, fines, electronic summonses and increasing pressure on humanity.

It seems that the world is starting to "burn" again. Ukraine, Israel and Palestine, Yemen, Sudan, Syria, Congo, Haiti... and this is only what is written in the headlines. Wars are breaking out more often, becoming more severe, the fear of the third world no longer seems fantastic.

When we look at people from different parts of the world, we notice that Africans tend to have dark skin, Arabs have expressive features and thick noses, and young people often have narrow eyes and fair skin. Why did this happen? It is not a coincidence, and certainly not a matter of beauty. It is all about human adaptation to the environment - the result of a thousand-year civilization.

Some people don't like to travel, pack their bags, everyone wants it to be simple, in an hour and you're in another country, so that someone finds a hotel for you, picks you up from the airport, but I like to do and organize everything myself

I dream that my future man will spend his weekends and vacations with me…

Mornings in a big city start the same way — noisily. Somewhere outside the window a bus engine roars, someone is in a hurry to close a slamming door, and in the neighboring apartment the kettle has already been turned on.

Sometimes I sit by the window, leaning on the windowsill, and imagine: what if I were given the opportunity to look into my future, even for one minute?