    
 


      ,   .   ,      ?   ? ,   ,  蠖 .





    

 



 ,2016



ISBN978-5-4483-0948-9

     Ridero




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How is your last winter night?


last minutes and hours ofanother winter ticking away inthe room, with me sitting inthe middle ofthe ticking wall-clock and another movie, another best one. So many people around, each intheir own cells, surrounded bytheir own cell-guards waiting their next day as apunishment. But there is going tobe no next day. There is no next day. There is one endless today. Today is endless. Every day is today and every day while we wait for the next day tocome. The next day will bring with itself nothing but another today. It is spring ladies and gentlemen! How do you spend your last winter night? Getting ready for another busy day? Running somewhere for getting something? Why? For what? Do not hurry. Tomorrow never comes. Ilove listening tothe clock-ticking. It is amechanical proof oftime passing by. Or rather ofus passing bythe time. We pass byeach other without counting days. Without counting the hours we spend together on this tiny planet among the huge system where we are not alone for sure. We are lonely, but not alone. Why one cannot choose? There is always choice tostay or togo? Tosmile or tostay grim? Towait, or torun away? Iwant towait. Iwant tosmile. Iwant tostay. Welcome the last winter night!

Location: , 




Dont give me piece ofyour mind. All Ineed is peace ofmind


Somewhere far away inthe universe lives my soul. Iknow who took it away and Idont mind because he needs it more than Ido. It has togo that far tocome back tome improved and toteach me things Istill dont know. Learned tostop asking the question why because no one who could answer is near. No one who could look into my eyes and give me the answers toone or two ofmy why"s. It does not make sense anyway, because the moment you find the answers the questions change:) the quote is not mine but it is totally my case. Ilove this life and this life seems tolove me back with all its heart. This is the philosophy Iam living with and this is the truth Ibelieve in. Everyone believes his own god. Ibelieve that my soul is insafe hands now because Imiss it so much. Who sent my body here and forgot toattach me toall the necessary attributes Ineed togo on with? Idont know but whoever did it, was aMaster:) There is one thing Iknow for sure. Nothing makes sense, so no need tofind sense ineverything. Do not rationalize, just do what makes you feel happy and does not make others unhappy. These are both equal values Ilive with. If someone has better answers Iwill be glad to CONSIDER. But not change. If Ichange, Iwill get lost, because the path is clearer now than ever, and the light is visible. Iyearned for peace ofmind, and Igot it. Where is my soul now? Did you get your peace ofmind? Was this what you wanted, my soul? Ihope so, because otherwise Iwant you back tosafety with me. Iwill not let anyone hurt you any more:.




It all started on astrange rainyday


It all started on astrange rainy day when she was getting back home inataxi. It all started strange. The taxi driver warned that he is short ofpetrol, but she never minded it. She was inahurry home though as arule she always found excuses and reasons tobe late. More time toher own self as usual. The selfishness inher sometimes scared her but she learned tolive incomfort with her own self for her own sake. Anyway the taxi driver was not only short ofpetrol, but also very talkative which she sometimes hated. Not that she was not sociable enough tofind two words toexchange with aregular taxi driver. But not today. Today she was asking herself thousands ofquestions at once: that guy she had inmind for those few days: she felt very strange attraction towards him. He was not uttering asingle word toher during the time they were sharing the same society (lets call it like that for now). But yet he seemed tobe watching her intently all the time, even when she was not conscious ofhis existence. Probably he interested her because he was so aloof and so laconic. Probably she was always attracted bythe strange and unknown? Well she was not positioned tojudgenow.



Something was definitely going wrong with the taxi. The petrol was heading towards the critical mark and she knew they had still half the way togo. She was nervous but she knew that she would reach home and she wanted tospeak tohim soon enough on the net. Probably thats why she took the bad taxi inabad weather.



The badness ofweather revealed itself immediately when she thought about it. It was drizzling when she took the taxi, and it became all ofasudden topour as hell. She never saw such arain inall her life. Inless than 15minutes the streets reminded ofgrey, dirty, cold rivers running down the street toan unknown, dirtier solace. What else could happen toworsen her mood? True, my reader. The petrol. He ran out ofthe entire petrol before they were almost there. Inother weather conditions she wouldnt mind at all, but now those 500meters seemed an eternity toher, with no help arriving, and no hope for the rain tocease. So she had tomake the choice again. Impatience was avirtue with her, so she took the harderway.



She ran out ofthe taxi and appeared knee-high inwater almost. She immediately was soaked tothe skin and her tiny blouse sort ofdisappeared on her body, leaving her transparently naked inthe middle ofthe street. But she walked on and was sure she was doing right. It all began today she knew it. She was sure it was anew start and this rain was washing away all the past, the unnecessary waste ofit all. The guy was watching her intensely as if trying toread her mind. She was resolute tohelp him read it. Or at least leaf some pages. She knew that the deeper he read on, the farther he would sink into the eternity ofher own self and would lose his own self. She was scared for him. But she was selfish. And she wanted him totry.



She finally found her way home. How? Oh, yeah, some strange man gave him ashort ride toher house on his car. She didnt bother toask his name, or tosay thanks, she had other thoughts materializing inher mind. She was talking tohim inher mind all the time and when she turned on her pc and he was online, she thought it was the sign. He should know how adventurous was her comeback today. She wanted him togo on looking at her even when she was away. She wanted him toknow that even when she was far away, she wanted him towatch over her. He inspired trust. And she felt safer with him watching. It all started on astrange rainyday.




Forever came toosoon


Sometimes she woke up inthe nights as if pushed bysomeone. She knew she woke up because he had been thinking ofher inhis sleep or because he was insome kind ofdistress and just called her name inthe dark. She was getting mad? Perhaps. There is no way she could check it, because she stopped realizing what is mad and what is normal. She had tofollow her heart and her heart was misleading her. It was so misleading that she was running away from her heart insanely. She had to. Otherwise she would never stop waking up at nights, smelling him, seeing him, feeling the warm and damp air around her, the smell ofbreeze, only because ofthe vicinity ofthe sea. He hated sea. Why? Because he hated everything that was always near.she wanted tobe always near, and he hated her for that. He knew that proximity kills the feeling. But distance kills the heart. It was assassinating her soul day byday, night after night. She craved for salvation. She knew it would not come, but she still prayed that one day she would stop feeling her heart. That one day she would stop dreaming ofimpossible. Dreaming ofhim, who was happy all byhimself. Who was looking for someone who is also happy byherself. She was not that one. She wanted tosee him inthe mirror ofher soul as she always did. She knew that he will never do it. Because it is scary when you look at someone and see your own self. It is scary but it is everyones dream. She was scared because her that dream came true. She met him. And he met her. And she did the biggest mistake inher life. She let him look into her eyes and he looked. She had only one hope: SHE ALSO LOOKED BACK! That is the reflection which will stay forever. For both ofthem.




So this is how it works


Ive been wondering what happens tolove inuniverse? The theory says that all our thoughts and words are materialized. So the question is where goes all the love inside me? Which planet it feeds? What it transforms into? Why Icannot see what happens tomy years and years and years dedicated toloving the life? Probably this is the response tothe question what is life? Probably life is granted toyou because ofsomeone elses love? Just this way my love has granted life tosome ofcreatures on this planet The saying goes God is love. So our love is the Creator? so our love is responsible for what we see around? People hate now more than they love and hence so many people die for nothing We all have that duty on this planet. Tolove. This is the source ofcontinuity ineverything. The day we all stop loving, the Earth will come toend. My darling usay you do not believe inlove. You are confessing tome that you do not believe inGod Because Love is god, and god is Love:) Ihave not seen my love materialize inuniverse but Ihave reasons tobelieve that it goes along way and finds its way tonew life. This is the true connection with the universe. This is the true way ofdoing the right thing. Just be responsible for what you feel. And feel what is tobe felt without remorse. It is agift toyou. Indeed you are so largely endowed with this gift




Living passion


Have you ever felt this overpowering, inhuman, breathtaking passion raising inyou? Can you imagine yourself sitting inasmall room with your beloved one without any hint tointimacy, and yet feel how the inner you opens its eyes and looks into his eyes through yours. May be it is then that the electricity paralyzes you entirely and you can hear your body breathing, your heart beating, your eyes looking nowhere near him, but clearly seeing him infront ofyou? Have you sensed the inevitable? It happens when your inner self depicts clearly the picture ofthe following few hours toyour subconscious. You see with clarity the tide ofpassion swiping you away and actually feel what is happening toyou. This is probably the true moment ofconnection with universe when the grateful universe wishing tothank you for the ability toFEEL allows you tosee what will happen NOW. Have you felt how the torrent emerging from your entire personality electrifies him and he is sitting there waiting for you totake full power over his emotions? Have you ever felt how you gradually fill him with yourself, tothe brink, and it is THEN that you see yourself inhis eyes and you know that the magic is there. The magic ofconversation ofsouls. The magic ofenergy and impulse. Have you not always dreamed ofthis feeling? The feeling ofliving passion? The feeling ofyielding inall your powers inorder tobecome as strong as the universe itself? Ilove this feeling. ILIVE this feeling. Idream ofdying with this feeling. This is all that matters. This is all that remains. This is all that is true. Everything else is derivative. Everything else is because of not for. Some people are lucky toknow the reason. Iam HAPPY toknow the way. Ilove this life.




interalia


What astrange weekend Ive been watching movie after movie till my eyes hurt enough toremind me ofVisine and ofthe need toswitch it off and go tosleep. Iwas watching movies which Inever watched before. Movies which aroused nothing but disgust before. But now they aroused nothing inme. Iwatched Cargo 200, perhaps the blackest movie Ihave ever watched. Iwatched Morphine another hopeless story which proves the senselessness and vanity and needlessness ofall our efforts topretend that we are better than we are inreality Why those movies did not touch me today? Iwas watching bloody scenes, not visual graphics like inhorror films, but really bloody scenes ofamputation, ofreal living maniac doing god knows what Iwas watching it without blinking an eye, without even holding breath NO, please, the movies were PERFECT! Balabanov is one ofthe best movie-makers ofthe world, perhaps equal toTarantino inhis grotesqueness. This is not what matters. The matter is with me. Iam scared ofit. This is the indifference. The self-destroying indifference towards everything happening. As if it all happens tosomeone else, not me. The reluctance tomove, tospeak, toact, tolearn, tosmile. Getting back tothe state oftrance, waiting the end tocome. Waiting the last day as asolace. Starting tocry, but holding back tears, as if ashamed ofmy own momentary weakness. Waking up, hoping for the end ofthe day. Going towork, hoping for the time torun home and get shut down inthe safety ofmy own bedroom. Psychologists would give this syndrome some clever name. Ido not care how it is called. Ido not even care how it is felt. Ido not care if it will end or not. Ido not want toknow where it started and why. Iam not angry. Iam not sad. Iam not happy. Iam not grieved. Iam not. IAM not. Running from myself somewhere! But myself is chasing me, clinging tome, not letting me go, not letting me escape. Oh yes. And Idid not listen tomusic today. Nor did Iyesterday. And the day before yesterday. Three days without music. And with Balabanov. Can we call this apunishment ofsome kind? Ithink we could. Myself is chasing me non-stop Myself is cruel. Myself hates me and wants tohurt me. And the one who can save me is very far away, busy acting himself out. Acting so talentlessly, so miserably that Ihate myself for letting him in. He does not let me go. He holds me. His silence is chasing me together with myself. Ihave two enemies: Myself and his misery. We are so similar toeach other inour chase. Ialmost let him catch me. Ialmost did that but he did not believe me. He will never believe that Iwas inhis hands, with myself. With the best inme. Such astrange weekend it was. Astrange weekend with strange impressions and strange visions. Ahorrible runaway from myself. It hurts so much. When will you come and take this pain away? Iam waiting. Iknow Imust wait. Iknow you are there and you do not let me go. Do not cry. You are crying my tears awaytoo.




For no reason


Iwoke up with the sense ofits being over. The door togreen and intimidatingly beautiful night when the stars were so near while we were sitting on arocking chair, is closed. The door tomy heart-room where Istore all our small secrets. Nobody knows about them. Nobody knows that you exist. Inever enjoyed keeping this asecret as much as now. It is so much mine that sharing it with anyone destroys apiece ofit. Iwill store our every secret inmy heart-room, but will not be able togive it back toyou. So forget about them all. Live on. Live on the way you can. Live on without me inyour eyes. Without my hands on your pulse. Without your eyes on me. Stop keeping them on me. Ido not want tofeel them any more. They are false. The falsehood is inyour every word and move and effort. Do not need toknow anything. Ihave enough tokeep myself going till the end ofmy days. Ihave had enough ofit all. So much feeling, so much ability tofeel, God. Why have you endowed me so much? Why Imust feel so much? Why cannot Ilive like the plants or animals who only follow their voice and do not even stop tocare. Make me stop tocare and regret for the things not done.

Can you remember my love, how my reflexion inthe mirror sheltered yours inthe night, when there was only you and me inthe small room under the bra light? Can Iever forget your fascinated look at my reflexion, your admiration ofpossessing it all? Can Iever forget how hard Iworked tobuild it all forus? Can Iever forget how hard it was for me tobelieve inyou and me? And now that Istarted believing, you are scared as ever. Scared todeath Scared toescape. Advise me my love. What shall Ido? Shall Istop believing? Or shall Istart hating you for not being able tosee what you are doing? Both require too much effort and Iam effortless my love. Iam effortless. Iam tired. Iwill just be gone. Gone and forgotten. Oh yeah. Iknow. Not forgotten, because it can never be. Iwill be haunting you for all your existence? Ido not want. Ido not want tohaunt you. Stop thinking ofme. Just letus let it go. It must be stopped. Ihave lost my architectural skills. The building Imade is not perfect. Iwant toruin it NOW. Ineed help. Ahelp from outside Ihave built something partial, imperfect, incomplete, faulty, feeble. Iwas mislead. It happens. NO need topanic. Iwas just mislead bymyself. Do not be scared. You have witnessed my self-destructive love. You have pulled me out. But the addiction is there. You pulled me out, but did not hold me. You saved me for no reason for no reason my love.




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