On the Wings of Hope : Prose
Prokhor Ozornin








For one more life I write with feather - let's voice keep ringing in the ether.

The Maker gave a Blade of Fire to fight in souls and in wire,

To sing a Message to mankind and help become them man of mind.

Let courage, honor, joy and truth awaken souls, who are sooth,

So with the Hope in divine Light they'll purify the world of blight.

The mix of times is on threshold, and pure spirits, who are bold,

Will have a chance for wisdom's feast, and learn that death does not exist.

Advice was given, hints were made, let's inner fire never fade -

But help one see what's wrong and main, for we are coming once again …







Bit World





Book of the Knight of Programming


“Without wind grass does not wave. Without programs, computer remains useless”

So said the Great Programmer

“To the East from the city, in a picturesque valley there is a large computer center with many supercomputers”, - the man said.

The boy noticed that he is wearing unusual, unprecedented by him before clothes, and there is a strange helmet on his head. He never met him before. 

“Do you see?”, - the  man continued. - “You will travel there and tell the others of your findings”.

“But how will I make my way there?” - the boy questioned.

“It’s up to you to decide”, - the stranger answered.

The boy reflected and bent his head. When he raised it once more - the speaking man was gone.

Next day the boy went there where the stranger has told him, however no matter how long he has been wandering through a neighborhood of the city, he encountered neither the mentioned valley, nor any other miracle. The following day he was in the countryside once again for he did not believe that such surprising person could have lied to him. If sometime they meet again, he will have the right to tell him that he has never seen a mentioned valley, but has heard mysterious unfamiliar sounds, brought from somewhere by a wind.

Many months passed since that, the stranger did not return, and the boy forgot him; now he was totally sure that he must find that center and uncover its mystery. By the sounds, brought by a wind, he will manage to locate this place and get inside. He lost interest to school and those with who he was on friendly terms earlier. He became a favorite target for sneers and mocking of his contemporaries, who were telling: “He is not like us. He listens to wind for hours instead of playing with us”. And everybody laughed at him.

Ten years later, having already become adult, the boy returned to that city in which he has grown. He has abandoned a thought of finding what the mysterious man was telling him about many years ago. Yet still he desired to leave a city, listen to the whistling of wind. He rose up early in the morning and went in that very direction where the wanderer has pointed him once. What a surprise it was for him when, having travelled only about one kilometer away from a city, he has found magical valley, for which he has been searching so vainly before.

When he has descended into the valley, his eyes saw a most amazing show - hundreds and thousands of computers, buildings, wires with sparkling beams of light, sliding on them, connecting each other into something uniform indissoluble whole. There were no signs of men. The boy went forward, curiously looking around. He did not even notice how he managed to enter some sparkling disk, located near one of the highest buildings - and was suddenly teleported inside. What a surprise it was for the boy when that very man who have once told him of this place, appeared before his very eyes.

- What are you doing here? - the boy asked.

- I have been waiting for you, - answered the man.

Even though a lot of time has passed already, the man looked exactly the same way as before, in the time of their first meeting. He gave him an empty writing-book.

- Write down: “When the one who has decided to become a Knight of Programming, takes his first step, he learns the Way, lying before him”.

- And who is that “Knight of Programming?”

- You know that already, - the man answered, smiling. - The one who is capable to comprehend a miracle of life, to fight up to the end for things he believes in, and change this world.

He never thought of himself as of Knight of Programming. And the man, seemingly, read his thoughts and told:

“Everyone is capable of it. And though no one considers himself as the Knight of Programming, each person can become him”.

The boy looked through pages of writing-book. The man smiled once more.

“Write of the Knight of Programming”, - he answered.

* * *

The Book of the Knight of Programming

When a man who has decided to become a Knight of Programming, takes his first step, he learns the Way, lying before him.

The Knight of Programming honors I. Tzin’s basic provision: “Persistence is fruitful”. He knows well that obstinacy has nothing to do with persistence. For there are projects, work in each lasts longer, that it’s truly necessary, and they exhaust powers and extinguish enthusiasm. And in such minutes the Knight is thinking: “The prolonged project eventually destroys a heat of his workers”. And then he stops working over programs, and grants himself a relief, returning once again into a world which others consider the only one existing. But never will he miss a moment of inspiration to go on with his creation.

The Knight of Programming knows, that certain algorithms have a habit of repeating. Often does he face difficulties which he has already overcome, and appears to be in a situation which he have already solved with honor, and this confuses his spirit: it seems to him that if everything repeats itself then he is trampled down on one spot, having no forces to move forward. “I have already written that sort of things”, - complains he to his heart. “You did”, - his heart answers him. “-But have not fully implemented own ideas”. And the Knight then understands, that his destiny gives him another chance to learn something which he had not wished to understand from a first time.

The Knight of Programming steadily acts counter with standards of programming. He will have no hesitation before leaving a secret back way in own program, or including the “easter egg” inside its code, defending an algorithm seeming ridiculous at first. The Knight of Programming can afford such things. He doesn’t fear to cry, remembering former unsuccessful projects, or to rejoice on the threshold of upcoming new ones. Feeling that a right hour has come, he throws away his last programs, moving forward into a new desired creativity.

Understanding that his ability of programming is about to be exhausted, he leaves computer place and doesn’t blame himself of having spent, coding, all night long.

The Knight has no willing to spend days of his life in aspiration of making a program, intended by others.

Knights desire the usefulness of their programs for the world to never fade away.

They live in this world, do not avoid others. It happens that they begin a new journey possessing no knowledge of necessary languages and tactics. Quite often they are being overwhelmed with fear. Not always do they code correctly. They suffer from trifling bugs in own creations, they happen to be restless and impatient, and at times it seems to them that they are unable to grow up. Often they are convinced that are unworthy of praises for what they have done already. Not always they are sure of what they are actually doing in there - in the boundless world of bits and bytes. They spend sleepless nights, suffering that their program may become unclaimed and useless. Therefore they are the Knights of Programming. Because they make mistakes. Because they torment themselves with questions. Because they seek the reason of own mistakes, look for and will, undoubtedly, find once.

The Knight of Programming is not afraid to look like mad one. Aloud and at the top of his voice he talks to himself, sliding his look through senseless for uninitiated lines of text. Someone has convinced him that it’s the best way of finding those places in the program which should be rewritten - and so he decided to check it in practice. At first it seems to him as an incredibly difficult task. He is assured that his code is perfect and he has nothing to change in it. And still he insists and persists, and conducts conversations with own reason every day. And says with what he disagrees and write nonsenses. But one day he notices that his code looks different. And thus he understands that he has opened a way to learning of the Dao of Programming.

The Knight of Programming seems mad at times, yet this is only a pretence.

“The true Knight of Programming chooses for himself what he desires to write”, - so said the Great Programmer.

The Knight knows, what he is capable of. He has no need to be praised before other members of a team for own knowledge and talents. However in any minute someone can came out to prove that he is better. And for the true Knight there are no such concepts as “better” or “worse”, for in his eyes each Knight is gifted enough talents to walk his own path. But still there are programmers dissatisfied with that thinking. They try to show him his ignorance and imperfection of things made by him, to cause a quarrel, to make everything to anger him. And in such minutes his heart speaks to him: “Reject an insult, it shall not strengthen your abilities. You will only waste your time in vain, trying to help them understand the Dao of Programming”.

The Knight of Programming does not trifle time for he knows: what is to be written - will be written.

From time to time the Knight of Programming remembers the words of Great Programmer: “After three days without programming life becomes senseless”.

Each language and technology welcomes him. He feels his consanguinity with them, he feels that part of his soul is concluded with senseless for others streams of numbers, lines of text and that thing called “computer hardware” by his contemporaries. And then he, accepting aid from other Knights and God’s Signs, he allows his Path to lead him there, where myriads or programs, demanded by life, have been waiting for him. Sometimes it happens that he has no time to take a sleep, at times he is tormented by sleeplessness. “Not to worry”, - the Knight thinks, - “it’s all part of my profession. No one has forced me to walk that way. It’s I who have decided as such”. Entire inner power of the Knight is gathered in these short words: he has chosen his path, and has nothing to complain about, no one to blame.

The time will come - in so much centuries - when the Universe will come to the rescue for the Knights of Programming and remain deaf and indifferent to those who have still not understood the beauty of Creativity.

Programs written before demand updating. New ideas demand new boundaries. Spirit and reason thirst for new calls. The future will become the present, and dreams - excepting those which contain prejudices - will have an opportunity to become a reality. What is important shall remain, what is useless will vanish. The Knight, however, doesn’t take the trouble to reflect on programs of his neighbor and to estimate their value. And he will not spend time for censure of decisions, made by others. For in order to believe in fidelity of own path, there is no need to prove that another has chosen a wrong way.

With a great care the Knight of Programming studies what he is going to write. No matter how difficult and hard a path to his goal may be, there are always open ways to overcome a barrier. The Knight seeks roundabout ways, tries to fill both soul and spirit with firmness, and reason with calmness, without which it’s never possible to successfully finish one’s job adequately. But there, already moving ahead by a path of program creation, the Knight starts understanding that there are difficulties and obstacles that were not taken into account at first. If he starts  waiting until the coming of the Muse of Programmer and be afraid of making mistakes, then he will never move even a single bit; to make a first step boldness is required - for it’s impossible to predict everything, especially at design stage, especially at coding stage.

The Knight of  Programming is aware of own weaknesses. But he also knows his talents as well. Others complain: “We were not given an opportunity”. Perhaps they are even right, but the Knight will never let himself stop programming for this reason - instead he will strain own powers and talents to the last limit.

The Knight knows that programmers are not afraid of difficult programs, for they are sure of themselves. And then the Knight tries to comprehend of what he can count on. And he inspects his arms, which include three things - Knowledge, Inspiration, Faith. If all three are in possession, the Knight continues his way without hesitation.

The Knight of Programming knows that not a single programmer can be considered as a fool, and life will once teach everyone - even though it will take much time. The Knight gives to other Knights the best knowledge and skills of his own and expects them to do the same. And in addition he generously and willingly tries to show the whole world, what every programmer is capable of. “Customers are ungrateful”, - complain some of his companions. The true Knight will never be confused by such words. He continues to write programs for them, for that way he improves himself.

Each Knight of Programming used to feel a fear before a new, yet unwritten program. Each Knight of Programming used to give a birth to unworthy code. Each Knight of Programming used to walk the wrong way. Each Knight of Programming used to torment himself because of utter nonsense. Each Knight of Programming used to come to a conclusion that he is not a Knight of Programming. Each Knight of Programming used to renounce his creative duty. Each Knight of Programming used to say “yes” to a new customer, while in fact he urged to say “no” instead. Each Knight of Programming used to hate those programs that he has once loved. That is why he bears the right to be called as a Knight of Programming for he has passed through all this and still not lose his hope of becoming better than he once was.

The Knight always remembers the words, spoken by a Great Programmer: “A well-written program is own paradise; badly written program is own hell”.

The Knight used to accept a challenge made to him. He knows that the one who is going to test his program will not overlook even a single mistake made by him, and will not allow him to pretend as if the written code is unfamiliar to him.

The Knight of Programming doesn’t change his decisions. Before starting a new project he indulges himself in continuous reflections - estimates degree of own readiness, a measure of responsibility, own debt before a team. Trying to keep composure, he laboriously studies each step - as if everything depends on it. But when the decision is being accepted - the Knight moves forward carelessly: he doesn’t have doubts in correctness of the choice made by him, and, even if circumstances appear to developed not the way he has predicted, the Knight does not turn off from selected road. And if his decision was right, he wins a victory in a fight - even if it becomes longer that he thought it would. And if the decision was erroneous, he will suffer a defeat and be compelled to make a new start - but this time fully armed with bitter expertise.

The Knight of Programming, having once started writing code, goes up to the end. The Knight knows that best instructors are those men with whom he writes code in one team each and every day.

It’s dangerous to ask to advice. A hundred times more dangerous it is to give it. When the Knight requires help, first and foremost he tries to understand how other workmates behave in similar difficult situations - why do they write or why they don’t. Having tired or being left alone with machine, he is not carried far away to distant perspectives, but searches for those close to him and aspires to make them a reality.

The Knight of Programming knows - the smallest and unknown to everyone program one day can be the one required by millions.

The Knight of Programming divides his world with programs he loves. And in those minutes when he is selflessly giving himself to creativity, the Enemy comes with tablets in hands. On the first table it’s written: “First of all think of yourself. Your programs are your intellectual property. Try to sell them as expensively as possible”. On the second the Knight reads the following words: “Who are you truly to write great things? Don’t you even see how small and insignificant is all those written by you?” But the Knight, even though he agrees with words, written there, throws those tablets to the ground, and they are scattered in ashes. And the Knight still inspires himself and his companions.

At times the Knight remembers one of the legends, transferred from one generation to another by Knights of Programming:

Once upon a time the teacher was passing by the student. The teacher noticed that attention of the student is absorbed by a pocket computer game. “Excuse me”, - he told, - “may I look at it?” The student was distracted from a game and gave it to the teacher. “I see that there are three levels of game: Easy, Average and Hard”, - told the teacher, - “yet each such device contains one more level of game when it aspires neither to win, nor to be defeated”. “I beg you, oh great teacher”, - the student asked, - “how can I find that mysterious level?” The teacher dropped device on the ground and crushed it with feet. And suddenly the student became enlightened.

The Knight believes that he is capable to change this world.

The Knight of Programming thinks at times: “What I have not yet managed to create, will never be created”. It’s not totally so : he must keep creating, but also he must obediently wait for someone who bring out his creation to the light of day.

The Knight is able to keep balance between independent work and work in a team. The necessity to create programs is embodied in his very nature, like the necessity to eat and drink, to love work. If sunset is approaching and the Knight hasn’t felt joy from things he has made that day – then something is certainly wrong.

The Knight of Programming uses loneliness, but does not allow loneliness to make use of him. The Knight knows that it’s impossible to live in condition of slackness and idleness. But he can distinguish creative pressure and ostentatious fussiness and never confuses one with another.

The Knight of Programming always achieves a balance between knowledge and desire. The Knight of Programming who trust only a sharpness of his mind too excessively will eventually underestimate a time, required for implementation of his tasks. It’s worth to remember: sometimes the power of various circumstances is more effective than the most sophisticated finesse. Long can his battle for the working code can be, and this fight exhaust his forces. And when the terms of work on a task come to an end, neither shine, mind, persuasiveness of arguments or what is called as “charm” cannot prevent the trouble. And that is why the Knight of Programming pays tribute to the brute force of time, resisting him.

The Knight of Programming never hastens. Time works for him, and he, knowing that, learns to bridle impatience and avoid rush decisions. His step is slow, yet firm. He feels that the time fate-deciding for the history of humankind is approaching, but before one will be able to change this world, he must first change himself.

There are two main strategic errors - to hasten, having acted earlier than the opportunity will come, and to delay, having missed it. And to avoid both the first and the second the Knight considers each and every program project as unique, and have small use for opinions of others, general formulas and ready recipes.

The Knight of Programming knows such thing as despondency. Sometimes it seems to him that he is unable to solve problems put before him, that a program he is working on will never be finished. For many days and nights he is compelled to stay in depression and no new event can return him former enthusiasm. “His work is ended”, - friends speak. Painfully and shame it’s for a Knight to hear such words, for he knows that have not yet achieved a goal to which he has been moving. However he is persistent and does not throw away half-road what he has once started. And here in a minute when he least expects it the inspiration comes to him and previously impracticable task seems surprisingly simple. And then work once again overwhelms him, and fingers do knock on a keyboard quickly and accurately, and reason finds solutions instantly.

The Knight of Programming knows how important is the intuition. At the height of work, in a fever of project, in a state of short time, when there is no time to reflect on what of many alternative decisions to choose, the Knight acts instinctively. “Madman”, - fans of thinking over each details in advance say about him. “Building castles in the air”, - speak sceptics. “How he can choose something deprived of logic?” - the third are perplexed. But the Knight knows: the intuition is an alphabet by means of which it’s possible to comprehend Dao and thus continues to listen to his inner voice.

The Knight of Programming always aspires to perfection. After every line of his code - there are centuries of wisdom and reflections. Each program, each algorithm must combine all power and quickness of Knights of the past. Each movement of his thought and hands honors those movements which previous generations of Knights tried to transfer to the modern ones through Tradition.

Sometimes the Knight sits with his companions in late evenings in common circle. They tell of successes they have reached on their Path and gladly welcome newly approaching programmers - future Knights, for each of them is proud of own life and participation in a great cause of transformation of this world.

The Knight is trustful. He trusts in miracles - and miracles do happen. He believes that human thought is capable to transform the life - and life of people of this world gradually becomes different. 

The Knight of Programming improves the beauty of his code.

The Knight of Programming transforms his mind.

The Knight of Programming learns to build the great.

The Knight of Programming will never curtail from his path.

Knights of Programming shall transform this world.

 * * *

When his voice ceased, there was already night. The Great Programmer and the boy for long have behold the look from a computer center, opening to their eyes. 

The Great Programmer stood up.

“Farewell”, - he said. - “Now you have learned what our way means - it’s unseparably merged with magical and attracting world of machines, numbers and technologies. But this is as well a world with noise of wind, shouts of seagulls, rustle of spring foliage - for that is a world in a world so much bigger. You will be able to fall in love with our world”.

“Tell me, who are you?” - the boy asked. But the holographic image of the Great Programmer has been already vanishing, accompanied by a measured rustle and quite buzz of machines.

09.04.2012




Code Truth


bool God = true;

[The God is true]




***




bool difficultQuestion = be | !be;

[To be or not to be]




***




NewLove(woman) > OldLove(woman) ? sleep-- : sleep++;

[The more we love the woman, the less we have to sleep]




***




 (word != sparrow) => (bool catch = FlyOut(word) ? false : true);

[You can’t take back what you say once you’ve said it]




***




 (work != wolf) => (RunTo(work, forest) = false)

[The work will still be there]




***




dirt => king;

[From the dirt with lot of sins – straight to rulers and the kings]




***




Stands(place) && WasHitAt(place) && StillStands(place) => WillBeHitAt(place);

[Don’t stand where you’ve got hit – or you'll be hit once again]




***




BelieveIn(Strength) => Fight;

BelieveIn(Weakness) => Pray;

[Trusting the force – you have to fight, trusting the weakness – you have to beg]




***




Friend(old) > Friend(new) + Friend(new)

[Old friends and old wine are best]




***




bool needsMind = Has(Strength) ? false : true;

[Having the strength, have no need for mind]




***




WillWait(7, 1) => false;

[The majority rules]




***




 (IsBlind(first) && IsBlind(second)) => (CanGuide(first, second) = CanGuide(second, first) = false);

[When the blind leads the blind, both fall into the abyss]




***




Cook(Axe, Porridge) => false;

[One cannot make porridge from an axe]




***




 (Word == Silver) => (Silence = Gold);

[Speech is silver, silence is golden]




***




uint godsCount = Count(religions) == 1 ? 1 : 1;

[Religions are many, but God is one]




***




bool needsBroadsword = IsNaked(somebody) ? true : false;

[Naked running through the lands – yet with blade in own hands]




***




 (Has(something) && !Care(something)) => (bool willCry = !Has(something) ? true : false);

[What we have we value not – when it’s lost we cry a lot]




***




PointOfView(mood1) != PointOfView(mood2);

[Every mood is a birth of points of view]




***




FearfulOf(wolves) => !GoTo(forest);

[Nothing venture, nothing win]




***




foreach (var thing in things)

{

isOk[thing] = !IsPregnant(PlayWith(baby, thing));

}

[Anything for a quite pregnancy]




17.10.2009




Divine Age





Angel


-          Greeting, people! - Angel smiled.

-          And who might you be, we wonder? - they muttered.

-          I am a son of God, - answered Angel. - I have come to aid you.

-          We didn’t call for you! - they have bitten.

-          Of that I know, - replied Angel. - That’s why I have come to you.

-          Because you weren’t expected? - men burst out laughing.

-          No, because you would never call for me yourself.

-          The stub is clear, day is ended, - they have been mocking. - We are living pretty well even without ones like you!

-          Oh, that I see, - Angel has sighted. - Have already collected stones to banish us, have you?

-          What was that? - a shout came from a crowd.

-          Throw away your stones from the bosoms, - said Angel. - Better, if on the road.

-          Well, you know, - people have choked. - What if they will still be of some use to us?

-          Going to throw them in the sky, are you? - Angel smiled. - Or have you forgotten of the gravitation invisible?

-          We have forgotten nothing! Of all the nature laws we are aware of, taming it!

-          To tame one, you have to love one. We are responsible for the ones whom we tame.

-          How very smart of you, oh our star-descended one!

-          For what the reason have you brought knifes together with you? Are you going to cut yourselves in distemper, I wonder?

-          Nay, we have no need to cut ourselves, oh damned one! Intended for the enemy of ours this weapon is.

-          How are you expecting to distinguish friends from foes, if anger blinds minds of yours so often?

-          Have no worry of that, we’ll sort it all somehow with no aid from your side! We have lived much and we have known much.

-          Who is that one, standing among you with a backpack that has hunched his back? Why haven’t you tried to facilitate the burden of his, idly standing?

-          Oh, ye are a stupid one, indeed! A stock of stones for the ones like you we have gathered in that backpack, so that they be always, well, at hand.

-          Do facilitate the burden of your brother.

-          We are gonna to throw that stones at ye then, foolish one!

-          Try it, if minds of yours thirst for no other.

-          Tally-ho, brothers! Have no mercy!




***




- And where is the fulfillment of your desires, throwing ones? Or haven’t you been warned of the gravitation invisible?

- Oh, how terribly painful it is! Save us, ignorant ones, from those stones, flying back to us! Accelerating are those stones returning and feet of ours have stuck seriously like in a bog, and no longer can we move forward! Rescue us for we thirst for living intolerably nevertheless! Save us, we beg of you!

- Lend your hands to each other and let last ones from you take my hands, if out of bogs you are daring to get out. Carry you on my wings I will, believed ones. Hold each other tight for now to be saved!

***




- Why have you saved us, oh Angel, sent from the heavens?

- Whether you feel better with no stones in your possessions, I wonder?

- We didn’t ask you for favors! Homes of ours are destroyed, clothes of ours are smeared in dirt - and whether by your favor, we wonder?

- Whether it was not you who have plunged yourselves straight into a swamp? What are you carrying in bosoms once again?

- Because we have dirtied ourselves in that smelly mug, then you shall be washed in it as well! Like us you will become from now on from the inside out!

- Have you no fear to turn black from the dirt of yours, I wonder?

- Tally-ho, oh brothers! Have no mercy!

05.02.2012




God's Dream


Devoted to the Living God …




A Newborn God was sitting over the shade of a tall mighty tree, which  have not yet been given a name, and was dreaming. He has just created the Earth, and had yet to make a couple of easier worlds in the nearby star systems.

A smile was playing on the God’s lips. He rejoiced at the result of his latest work – the Earth has turned out to be extremely wonderful.  There was a great variety of climates, which you would practically never find in any of the worlds, created earlier. There were mountains, rising into the heavens, and sea hollows, leading into infinity. There were giant trees, similar to the one, He was sitting underneath, and smallest, indiscernible for an eye of future inhabitants, leaves and blades of grass of unknown plants. There were an incredible variety of living semireasonable beings, beginning from some small insects, playfully creeping in a grass, and finishing with sea and terrestrial giants. In other words, this was a fine created world – possibly, one of pearls of His Creation.

It seemed that He enclosed something immensely-imperceptible into this process of Creativity. As if He has given to the Earth a part of Himself. And that is why now He was happy.

He dreamt of how humans will soon enter this world of His. How man will rejoice at the sight of his new home, created for him instead of ordinary-looking old ones. How people will settle on boundless horizons of this Creation of Creations, and will love each other and rejoice to life and the world, given by the Maker.

And thus He made a call then to the most distant reaches of the Universe for humans to gather – those, who will live in this new home – probably, the happiest ones among all living. And humans came to the Earth – not even came, actually, but have arrived from their common previous worlds on their spaceship – the ark. And they have descended down to the Earth from it and settled. And named this date as the date of world’s creation.

There were years, and there were decades, and there were hundreds of Earth years passing. Settled those ones, who arrived from far worlds, on corners of sphere terrestrial, and primogenitors of races, three in number, they became. And loved they each other, as the God asked, for some time – yet slowly to forget of love some of them have begun. And, seeing this, to help those falling asleep the God has decided – and asked He started for prophets to come into this world to advise humans of where that Light in the end of a dark tunnel lives. And came angels-prophets, warriors of fine God, to this world terrestrial and prophesied words of pure origin, purifying hearts of His beloved humans. But nevertheless, hearts of many have fallen asleep greatly and did not hear words of those prophets of great God they – and crucified His prophets. But the Most Gracious Maker did not cease to hope, for after all he loved humans even with all their lacks and was ready to help always those, Light who were seeking. 

There were hundreds of earth years and there were millennia. Yet more actively and heavily did humans stray in dark and murky tunnels. And seeing human sufferings from the darkness, absorbed by them, the God has dared to make a deed compassionate. His Finest Son, by the Father’s light enlightened, He asked to come to world of humans, to help those suffering with His Light and His Love and to set them on the right path. But betrayed the Divine Son did humans, and killed his body, unable to cause harm to the pure spirit.

And there were great grief and confusion in the Heavens. Light Angels of the World Spiritual did cry, seeing this human’s misunderstanding and all the darkness, to which many have already aspired. 

And the last, desperate step the God has dared to make then. He Himself has descended to the world He created, to test Himself all temptations of darkness, accepted by humans, and to deny it, having shown them the Way once and for all. The First and the Last the God has become in this world of His own, which on the brink of the chasm was flying, the Son of Man, the Alpha and Omega. For He has come into this world, made by Him, as a human and will leave it as a live revived God soon.

And, having learnt about Him, among all of them living life simple and modest, people began to come to Him. One after another they came and asked.

And the priest shouted to Him : “I banish you, unholy one ! Not of you did yours crucified Son told us, and not you we were waiting for. And not even did we wait for you, for no need for God living and just we need. And is it appropriate for a God great to live in a hole pitiful, and try not to drag in paradise for gold, as we did ? Disappear, impostor !”

And the politician laughed at Him : “Here you are, preaching honesty, living not in mansions imperial. Better look as we, deceiving others, have built palaces ! Therefore study from us, while we share this wisdom of life with you !“

And the sick, humiliated and offended ones came : “There is no justice in the world of yours ever !”, - they shouted to Him. – “We have given you our stones, constantly dragged by us, expecting heavenly wings in return – and where is a fulfillment of our desires ? Or are you not the Almighty, as they say ?”

And proud ones came to Him, and silently spat in Him, before others flaunting.

And cruel ones came to Him, and to finish Him off they threatened.

And clever ones came to Him, and to enter senseless philosophical disputes they tried.

And sly ones came to Him, and tried to catch Him on a word said.

And simple ones came to Him, and were filled their souls with wisdom of His words.

And seeking ones came to Him, and with joy their hearts were lighted up, for they have found at the long last.

And just ones came to Him, and silently submissively bow down before Him.

And pure ones came to Him, and fire of their spirit shined even brightly for they were staying nearby Him.

He accepted them all, refusing no one. For how is it possible to refuse to the children, coming to their Father ?

But somewhere on a joint of the worlds, invisible to an eye of human, enormous clocks keep ticking, measuring the time until the Judgment Day, the day of estimation. The Moment Of Truth.

But still loved did the God his children – and lived in their world near them for the time being. And the chance was given to everyone…

But all this was later, much later. Even though time has no meaning for Immortal ones.

But for now the God was sitting under a huge shady tree on the planet Earth – and was dreaming. He was dreaming of the new wonderful worlds …




09.10.2010




Guardian Angel


-    Yes ? – my snow-white Guardian Angel turned to me and smiled warmly. – Have you called for me ?

-    I … hm …. to tell the truth, I wasn’t totally confident that you were listening to me, - I mumbled.

-    I always do listen to you and hear you, - Angel said. – But you currently, unfortunately, not.

-    So … do you want to say that you have nothing like lunch break or anything like that ? – I was surprised.

-    No, - replied Angel. – I have need for neither sleep, nor rest. It’s you, people, who prefer to sleep with eyes open widely.

-    You mean that you are always at work ? – I guessed.

-    Well, yes, - my darling Angel replied indulgently. – I am in a service to the God.

-    And how do you fare there … well, in general ? – I found nothing better than to ask that.

-    Well and good, - Angel answered. – Dry and warm. Even though there are no millions options to choose from here. It’s you, mankind, who will soon have to choose at last.

-    To choose what, exactly ? – I asked.

-    Destiny. Life or death. God or Devil. Light or Darkness. Whatever you name it, the essence stays the same. Well …, - and Angel became silent for a second – you, fortunately, understand that well.

-    I do, - I answered. – A pity, though, that I don’t always hear you.

-    It’s all in your powers and in desire, - and Angel smiled again. – Such is my job, actually, to always hear you and help you to find the God.

-    And what prevents you from doing that right now ? – I made my next question.

-    Him, mostly, - and Angel has shown his wing on the left. – Well, and sometimes you too, when start doing nonsense.

-    Who’s that, him ? – I asked hastily, and only then have noticed the Imp, standing nearby, - that black one ? 

-    Well, it’s only now he looks like that, - replied my Angel. – But he’s able to pretend to look as oh-so-white in times, like chameleon. – See, how he stares at me right now ? – and Angel smiled warmly and pointed his wing to the left again. 

-    I take it that he’s angry ? – I questioned my Angel.

-    Yes, he’s like that, from time to time. He has his job too, after all. And he’s too will be judged, as well as all of us.

-    Judged in what sense ? – I misunderstood.

-    Oh, you don’t know yet, do you ? – my Angel was surprised. – There will be a revision of Universe soon, and the Dread Judgment of the Lord, as you call it. – I would, however, rather name it Just Judgment.

-    And what will be after the Judgment ? – I asked.

-    Life or death, - replied Angel, - for you, for me, and for him – and he pointed his wing on Imp once again.

-    You mean, you can die too ? – I was stunned, - are Angels not immortal ?

-    Not for the Judgment. – If the Tempter of any man, guarded my ones, similar to me, prevails, the Tempter survives, and Angel and the man become history. If the Guardian Angel prevails – than he as well as his ward survive, and the Tempter become history instead. It’s that simple. Such is the Court.

-    And the people, who have turned to the path of evil, betray their Angels as well ? – I was terrified.

-    Alas, indeed. And try to feel now, - and my beautiful Angel stirringly looked into my eyes, - how it’s – to die for immortal one ?

-    And … how many Angels are going to die like that ?

-    Under preliminary forecasts – many, - and Angel sighted sorrowfully. – But … and he became inspired once again, - everything can still be changed.

-    If people will hear their Angels and step away from the dark path ? – I questioned.

-    Yes, - Angel said, - if they would prevail over their nature. There is very little time left, - he added.

-    Little time left ?

-    When clock’s arrows will be on the top, - and Angel has become silent for a moment, - very interesting events will start to happen.

-    The world will be changing ?

-    Definitely.

-    Can I help people realize what is awaiting them ? – I asked hopefully.

-    Certainly. It’s all in your forces and in the hands of God. And I, too, won’t abandon you, for certain.

-    How I do love you, my pure Angel ! – I have exclaimed with tears in the eyes.

-    I know, - he smiled mildly. - Come to me, allow me to embrace you in my wings.

-    Thank you, Angel, thank you so much for hearing me and caring of me ! Let us never part from each other !

-    Yes, let it be so, - my Angel has tenderly answered, gently covering me with his white wings. – Let’s start to always hear each other in the long last…




20.10.2010




Miracle


There lived people in the world, and sadly and burdensome have they been living. From the birth did they desire something unusual, magical. A holiday of joy of life did they want to come, yet were incapable to create it themselves. And thus world of theirs was grayish and boring, and sadly they have lived. But some of them yet dreamed in hearts of theirs of the great Miracle, the finest of all they have met. Such a Miracle, from beholding of which their eyes would start shining, and their hearts would light up with a fire of faith. And so these dreaming ones have begged the heavens, asking to console hearts of theirs, and to give them the great Miracle to remember it forevermore, thus keeping the faith in their hearts eternally.

And this prayer of theirs, sincere and kind, was heard by the heavens, and heavenly Wanderers have asked their divine Father what miracle to give to His beloved children for their hearts to tremble in admiration, and tears of joy to be born in their eyes. And it has been decided to make the Divine Miracle live among them forever, never abandoning them. So that men can always behold it with their eyes and feel its touches with their souls. So that a source of joy and light inspiration will never extinguish for them.

And dissolved and spread a Miracle Divine, sent from the heavens, in the world of humans invisibly to always remain near people and close to them from that moment and forever on. And embodied it was in the bright light of sun and in singing rustle of trees; in joyful murmur of water streams and morning singing of birds did it show itself; in sea surfs, sunsets and sunrises lilac-pinky was it embodied; in clouds dairy-sugar, by a sky wandering eternally, the beauty of that Miracle, which have filled the world of men, was reflected; in a rain purifying the care of that Miracle of the souls of humans was marked; in the shining of children eyes the sparks of that Miracle invisible forever remained; in infinite number of things and phenomena have this Miracle appeared, reflecting its Creator generosity and greatness.

Everywhere have this Miracle entered, in each cell of the world, made for men, have it managed to come, having enlightened it and pleased. And did believe Wanderers of heavens that the Miracle mentioned would be the best one ever made for mankind, and bitterness and grief would be forever gone from faces of men, and they would rejoice their happiness and praise the beauty, saving souls of theirs. Yet the hope mentioned did not come true by that time, unfortunately.

Haven’t seen people that greatest Miracle in their majority, never believing that so close to them could it reside and live. Through all lives of theirs have they hurried somewhere on the goals artificial, senseless, tiresome, and thus couldn’t see the Miracle. And have killed they that miracle divine, and made an ordinary out of it. And have indulged in the ordinary, and fallen asleep in hearts even stronger than previously.

But haven’t died that Miracle, for by the Maker himself was it made - only in hearts of avaricious men have it been dying untimely. And till now have it lived close to men, yet many did pass by, for they have no need for a world wonderful, unusual, mysterious - yet measured and verified world do they desire. Haven’t belittled it from a blindness of men, and due to greed of theirs haven’t vanished. Still does it hope and wait for many to awaken, and still does it give itself away in all its generosity each and every day.

But who of men is capable to trust with own heart that the Miracle mentioned can still be hidden just under his very nose?

18.03.2012




Warning : the God !


- “Warning : the God ! Entrance is strictly prohibited for idle passers !” – Ivan read a sign on ordinary-looking gate, leading through a fencing to inconspicuous looking building. And there was a small addition slightly below – “The Entrance. Accept the hope, entering one !”

- Oh, what only they won’t make, - he thought at first. - Trying to lure us this and that way. Oh, sure, we have heard plenty of these fairy tales of yours in due time, about the New World, End of the Millennia, the Second Coming, everything at once. And predictors all unanimously chattered in due time – “The world is changing, something is happening !”, and everything like that, and where is all that ? We cannot see it yet. And maybe it doesn’t even exist, if we cannot see it ? Or maybe it does exist, but we still cannot see it ? Who knows it for sure …

Ivan began hesitating – to enter or not to enter ?

Nobody cries aloud any calls, no one stands with banners and posters on corners … Somehow strange … unusual. Not a single sign of what is called promotion, no sort of marketing in that disgusting style “The Savior ! Only with us ! Only for you !”. Just some ordinary-looking gate … who even enters such ones – it doesn’t even looks like a door. Somehow wrong … not common style. But, on the other hand … who did say that God must correspond to some man’s idea about Him ?

Oh.

Ivan was starting to feel himself more out of place – not mainly due to his current reflections, but from some arisen during this moment aching and disturbing feeling somewhere in the depth of his breast, that if now he will pass this gate by, like he has been passing for all these years, hurrying somewhere in unknown distances on strangest affairs – he may not be able to find in the future this most ordinary-looking gate …

And, after all, he was looking … he has been searching for Him for a long time. Since the very birth, if it’s possible to say so, he has been looking. In autumn silence of parks and conversations Soul-to-a-Soul with others, in noise of human crowds and rich furniture of churches, in endless loneliness of own Soul he has been searching for Him … He thirsted to once find Him so greatly, but all this was something not totally so … not totally right … He has been seeking Him for all his conscious life !

And now … some sort of gate …

Finally he decided. Pushed a gate with his hand, expecting to hear a scratch of ungreased loops – but instead of it shutters softly and silently swung open, he made a step forward – and …

The world changed. Suddenly the city disappeared somewhere, as well as hurrying on affairs from work and for work thousands of sleepy people together with one thousand and one building … even the gate was no more. Now he was standing in the middle of some large hall with carved shining columns and ceiling, rising into infinite distances up and up … some soft of warm light surrounded him from everywhere.

- Have I already died ? – Ivan was suddenly frightened. – My heart stopped pulsating and now my useless body is most probably lying on some dirty operational table, and a group of laymans in white dressing gowns is working on it while I am standing idle in this unknown new world ?

- Greetings, Ivan ! I have been waiting for you ! – some immensely powerful, filled with greatest inner force and at the same time very melodious voice suddenly filled the area, coming, apparently, from all directions and at the same time somewhere from Ivan’s breast.

- I … just … just … don’t know … what to answer …, - Ivan mumbled.

- Don’t worry about it, - answered the Voice. – I can read minds. I have been watching you from your very birth … as well as many others. You desired to find me – and so now you are here. What is that you want to tell Me ?

- So, are you really the Most Powerful One ?

- Yes, - the Voice answered softly. – The First And The Last. The Beginning And The Ending. I am the One whom you call the Maker.

- So, you are really ..., - and Ivan stopped short. – Well, certainly ! How could I forget about it !

- Yes, - the Voice answered. – I truly exist. But many of your kind have forgotten and ceased to search for Me.

- To search where ? – Ivan asked shy.

- Inside and outside. I am inside and outside. All these worlds are Mine, and parts of Me are living inside you. I have once given you particles of Myself so that one day you can become similar to Me …

- So that people become similar to God ?

- Such is the true Evolution, Ivan.

- So, you are together with all of us …

- Yes, always I am. Now in your world as well. I have many homes, - invisible Voice was filling the room with matchless melodies and colors.

- In our world too ? So, it means that the gate …

- All your world is Mine. I can settle in any corner of it. I have no need for your empty praising. I desire to see all of you live, Ivan, with living particles of Me.

- That’s why Your arrival was …, - the sudden guess enlightened Ivan’s heart.

- Yes, - the Voice answered. – For this reason. I desire to see ones searching and coming to Me in their free will. They are capable of the true Evolution.

- So all these people in temples and mosques, calling themselves believers and at the same time remaining the same from the very birth …

- They can continue to believe in their illusions, if such is their wish. For some time.

- And what of Your Son ? He was speaking of You and Your return in the due time …

- He is together with Me as well. My second Son, - answered the Voice. – You dared to offense Him too much in the last time. This will not repeat any more.

- Oh, how wonderful it is that You are together with us ! – a sudden shout of joy escaped Ivan’s breast.

- The looking one will find. The going one will come. Accept the hope – and give it to others ! My time is coming ! – the invisible Voice filled entire enormous brightly shining room, and travelled, apparently, into the very core of human Soul.

- Yes, oh my Maker ! I will tell them of You ! I thank You !

The shining stream of light captured and shrouded Ivan. It, this Light of God, was coming, apparently, from everywhere – was shining from inside and outside. The sparkling stream shrouded him in a flash of time – and …

“Savior ! Only with us ! Only for you !”, - Ivan confusedly read red shining letters on a sign of some striptease club.

The gate was no more. The chance was accepted. Another world greedy stretched own hands towards him once again.

- Yes, oh Maker, I will tell all these sleeping ones of Your time, - Ivan decided. – Right now there is nothing more important than that.

18.09.2012




We are


We are no longer the ones we used to be. Our past burned in the flame of self-rebirth, leaving the place for the Now, which has become a bridge to the Future.

Our path lies in the Eternity, and only we ourselves can pass it.

We all feel the breath of Universe inside us, and our hearts beat in rhytm with Hers.

We are both old and young - for each of us is like innocent child in spirit.

We foresee, not knowing for sure. We rejoice at the beginning of a new deed and feel sadness finishing what has been started. We love to transform believe into the trust. For without trust there can be no love.

We accept this world as we managed to make it. And it will never be in our right to blame someone other for human mistakes.

You may call us as you desire, for your mere words are unable to alter the essence.

No more we have names, yet each of us has kept his essensial "I".

We enter the battle in time and we know not fear.

Curses and blasphemes of the Sleepers are the stones that only strenghten our arms, holding the shield.

Wrath and hatred of theirs is the smoking fire. Yet the tears of the heaven will once extinguish it.

We live, fighting, yet the battle is not our final goal. For it is transient.

We are so different, but in this battle each of us is a warrior. And each holds his unique weapon.

Weapon of yours is able to destroy you whole, yet weapon of ours is greater.

It changes minds. It alters hearts. It transforms ones struck by it forever.

For this weapon is a weapon of spirit. Nothing in the world is comparable with it.

Our enemy is strong, for he is bodyless. That is why we are given this weapon.

We fight desperately for we know no death. The one given the Blade Of Spirit has already died before.

We knew not the timing, but were intended. We knew not ourselves, but were called for. The time will come - we'll be recognized. For great the battle is.

Rejected ones will join our ranks. Enlightened ones will join our ranks. The Newborn ones will join our ranks. For great the battle is.

The heavens cries at humankind's blindness, for even they have feelings. Yet there is always a dawn coming to replace the night.

The time is rushing forward desperately, changing the world in a single vortex. And we are at the forefront of it.

Always we are with you, for we do love this world.

So say We - warriors of the New Age.




13.08.2010




When the Sleeper awakes


-    Mister Coordinator, when the Sleeper will awake at the long last ?

-    Do you ask about that me, Admiral ? As I have suspected, it’s better for you to know.

-    The free will, mister Coordinator, the free will … Perhaps, we have committed an error, after all ?

-    I will remind you that it was our joint project. There are no mistakes, only statistical errors and percentage probability.

-    And now you are speaking mathematician’s tongue.

-    And what else should we do right now ? We can only observe.

-    Observe his agony ? He is dying directly before our eyes, dying painfully and unstoppable.

-    So he has chosen. The Majority-s, you know, sometimes outweighs.

-    And what about the Awakened ?

-    He’s still a baby. He has yet to grow up.

-    Beautiful little one, isn’t he ?

-    Certainly.

-    I am so glad about him.

-    So do I.

-    Tell please, what forms of curing medicine have been applied to the Sleeping one up to today ?

-    Initially – numerous enzymes of prophetical nature, sort of. Two thousands of parsecs ago the strongest possible antibiotic has been injected.

-    Which has been successfully removed by organism in the first vomit reflex.

-    Approximately so. I tell you – he’s almost hopeless.

-    And  what about methods of shock therapy ?

-    Yet to be applied. Already soon.

-    Have been the patient informed in advance ?

-    Two thousand of parsecs ago, when disease signs were already on his face.

-    They are already on the face ?

-    Now it’s terrible even to look at him. I will not advise you doing so.

-    And what about the newest local antibiotics of unique type ? I mean these, you know, returnees from non-existence.

-    A part of them has been already injected, some have not been made yet.

-    Do you believe that will help ?

-    Such probability too cannot be neglected.

-    Will they be injected simultaneously with the beginning of shock therapy ?

-    Shortly before that.

-    And then ?

-    It’s for him to decide.

-    Do you think he is still capable ?

-    I hope so.

-    Well, and how does Awakened one fare ?

-    He has already learnt to read thoughts and gained the vision of the future. I believe he’ll grow into a nice one.

-    I am too very happy with him. Even though he is a blood brother of the Sleeper. 

-    By the way, you have given me an excellent idea. As soon as this little one will grow up and be ready to read souls, it will be possible to send him to help, so to say, his elder brother to, so to say, move him away from the unjust path. Certainly, we will protect the Awakened one in all ways accessible to us. Minority, well, you know, is counting on our support.

-    Perhaps we should delay a little the begging on this shock therapy ? Wait, until little one will grow up a bit ? This Awakened has already expressed desire to help the brother, as far as I know.

-    I will consider your option, mister Admiral. I will consider it …




10.10.2010




World of God


With a love for God

The newborn God was cheerfully walking on city streets, which name He didn’t remember for now. And what is the reason for a Maker to remember human names? Unless only for people.

The sun was joyfully shining Him and its beams were playing in puddles which have remained from a recently came rain. He loved such a weather greatly – and playful Angels of Elements with both awe and joy in hearts satisfied this His request.

And yesterday there was snowing over this nameless city in spite of the fact that average day temperature usually reached 30 degrees in the “plus” side. And the day before yesterday the densely covered by clouds sky was suddenly cleared of all white fluffy figures in some fifteen minutes.

Probably, someone even was christening himself, or, say, cursing weather forecasters with all colors of rainbow shining today in the distance over a sea smooth surface, starting from gray-brown-crimson-in-a-speck. And the God was cheerfully walking forward, inhaling the aroma of sea, brought by the air, and spraying water drops from puddles which have not yet dried up. He was happy to live in this made by Him world. For after all, what can be better than to feel your own creation from inside?

Today He was simply walking on streets of this anonymous sea city, enjoying His life. A life of a human, if it’s possible to say so, - for He will enjoy the life of Almighty God a bit later. And, eventually, the life in a human body had its good advantages as well.

Suddenly something started humming in a stomach persevering and tenderly, even, to say so, totally human-like. Purr-purr-purr. A then – puuuurrr! And then – whoooo! With all voices at once.

- Maybe I should have a supper? – thought the Newborn God, and, having seen through a bird’s eye view all the panorama of His present city-surroundings, defined for Himself the next building, where He could stop. Just some ten minutes of walking.

The God smiled once again. Most certainly, He could reach this tavern in some thirty seconds – but what other surrounding him people would think if He has suddenly soared up like a bird? It may be so that some compassionate old woman or some persistent atheist would have a heart attack. And He didn't want to cause harm to anybody, even inadvertently. And, eventually, it was His righteous beloved ones who had still have to fly.

Top-top-top. Chpok! – and splashes from a puddle, through which He stepped over, scattered on several meters on all diameter of a described by them circle, having almost sprinkled in addition the passing by man.

- Hey, watch where are you going, bungler! – he shouted on his way, still hurrying very far into the unknown even for him dales.

The God wanted at first to say something like : “My God, forgive him, please”, like as in due time He was asked many times by His Son, who have arrived to this world as well, - but then thought that it’s somehow inconveniently to ask himself. And wrong as well, probably.

And so He simply continued His way. He was still happy.

Well, here it is. And even the sign hangs over here, carved with beautiful small letters.

Tavern “On the brink of the Universe”. And slightly lower an addition – “Feel the aroma of divinity”. Amusing name.

The incarnate Creator accurately opened a door, and carefully entered the building.

- We are closing in half an hour, but I am sure that you can still taste our aroma of divinity! – run-up fellow waiter smartly assured Him.

- Yep, - the God said approvingly. – And what do you have in today’s menu?

- Oysters by French, slope by Spanish, dranniks by Belarusian, pelmeni by Russian, sausages by German …, - the fellow started to listing.

- Various things you have here, - God smiled. – And something a little bit more, say, exotic?

- Mmm … - the waited hesitated for a moment. - Galushki by Ukraine?

- Suits! – the God was delighted. – It’s always pleasant to remember own good youth! – He added after a pair of seconds and smiled again.

- A pair of glasses of water, if you don’t mind, - God responded good-natured. – I think it will suffice.

- Water? – the waited was surprised. – Simple spring water?

- Yes, yes, - God responded. – And water can sometimes be sweeter than wine, - He added a bit later.

- Well … the waiter tarried a little, - all right. We’ll do it now. Five minutes or so.

- So quickly? – asked the Newborn God. – You actually have more time than five minutes. I truly very much hope that all this time will be enough for you.

- Excuse me … in what aspect? – the waiter was a little surprised.

- For all of you, - and God warmly waved His hand over all visitors of this institution, having not forgotten to point to a window as well. – I hope given you time will be enough.

- And what will be afterwards? – the waiter as though was still in frustration.

- It depends on you, my beloved children.

- Mmm … tell me, who are you? – the waiter was still standing nearby this mysterious visitor and didn’t decide to carry the order for performance.

- Priest, or whatever! – someone muttered from the next table.

- What’s in my name for you to know? – the God laughed good-natured. – My earth name is both temporary and eternal at the same time.

- Earth? And where are living then, forgive me for my curiosity? – the waited was getting more and more intrigued.

- Everywhere, - God answered quietly.

- Bum, or whatever! – again someone muttered from the next table.

- Inside you as well, - added the Maker.

- Inside us? Where? What for? – the waited was taken aback.

- Here, - answered the God, - and pointed to a waiter’s breast. – You even manage to hear Me from time to time.

- Cranky, or whatever! – once again came the exclamation from the next table.

- Do we hear You? – the waiter still couldn’t come to his senses.

- Well, yes, - told the Creator. – A voice of conscience.

- Aa … why are You here?

- Helping all of you. For I do love you! – and in celestial-blue eyes of God a wandering on His lips smile reflected itself.

- And … for how long will you keep helping us? – the confused waiter questioned.

- Always I will, - the Newborn God answered. – Such is my work! – and His eyes of heavenly color became, apparently, even more endless.

- Aaa … mmm … the last question then … tell, well … erm … whom and where do you work? – the bringer of orders tried to question again, but when he turned back to his unexpected visitor – He has already left.

Only the closing by the wind door creaked melodiously, seeing off such an unusual guest. And on the table where He was sitting earlier, there was a whole mountain of juicy and appetizing galuski pile inside the mysteriously appeared plate. For who if not we need the food, mercifully granted to us by the Maker?

And the Newborn God once again cheerfully walked on city streets and there was sun, shining in His eternally blue eyes. He was happy to live in this world – and in this nameless city of planet Earth.

02.05.2012




Yet unfinished story of one spaceship


-    Have you called for me, Coordinator ?

-    Yes, Admiral, take a seat. Tea, coffee, an ambrosia ?

-    I would not refuse an ambrosia … but, perhaps, somehow another time. Business is too urgent, as I understand ?

-    And with no delays possible. The rates in this adventure of yours became too high. 

-    Mister Coordinator, I understand everything, but after all we ourselves have started this experiment together to …

-    I have transferred this ship along with crew under your responsibility, Admiral, under your full responsibility – do you remember ? You have promised me that everything will be as smooth as possible.

-    Their free will, which you have granted to them, has appeared to be much more unreasonable, than we assumed initially …

-    You selected best ones, Admiral. Three planets in different sectors of the Galaxy for three new races. You have tried to discover pearls on these planets-prisons, Admiral, - and where are your best crew now? Sleeping peacefully in cryogenic capsules onboard of this spaceship which has almost strayed away from a trajectory?

-    After the first Collision part of them have awakened, after all.

-    I’ll let you know, Admiral, that after this very first Collision the communication system of the ship has been almost destroyed. Even the woken up crew are practically unable to perform two-way communication. We receive all their reports, while they hardly receive one-two percent of ours. Multiply this by two-three percent of those awakened. According to our calculations the probability that they will manage to correct a course of their vessel on coordinates, which we are trying to transfer to them, and avoid collision with the second Ring, is …

-    I perfectly know this, mister Coordinator. I know it all. Current number of woken up crewmen of the space vessel does not allow us to rely on the successful ship-handling in a manual mode. And auto-navigation system has already been destroyed two thousand parsecs ago.

-    What’s with other crew ? How successful were manual attempts to shutdown cryogenic systems ?

-    Completely unsuccessful. After Collision electronics of ship’s systems has been seriously damaged. With manual shutdown the sleepers either die within several seconds, hardly able to realize what is happening with them, or get considerable spiritual-chemical brain damage. 

-    What sort of damage ?

-    It’s symptoms are the uncontrollable flashes of aggression to all things living. They literally clawed with teeth those, who have awoken them. 

-    And so we have the following : manual unfreezing doesn’t function properly, and there are not enough awakened crew with required talents and skills onboard in order to activate automated systems. A vicious circle. And the second Ring is just ahead in current course. And ship acceleration has been increasing all the time, making new maneuvers more and more difficult.

-    Everything is correct, mister Coordinator.

-    What protection measures have been taken in case this vessel will not pass it ?

-    We have activated closely located orbital modules. Have moved rescue fleet from the  adjacent sector.

-    How many crewmen can survive Ring Collision, Admiral ?

-    All sleeping ones will surely die. And considering those awakened … very few, mister Coordinator. Very few. Collision will break vessel’s hull for more than forty percent. Space ship will be lost forever in any case.

-    Is there is still a possibility to achieve hyperlight molecular jumping, when the vessel will be travelling through V sector, taking his current speed into account ? Being on board, you could help those awakened crew change ship’s course.

-    The chance is small, but … but I am personally ready to try to rectify own mistake. With own blood, if it’s possible to say so.

-    You know the consequences, Admiral. When molecular reassemblage in a process of jumping is performed, your memory will be erased. It’s restoration will require subsequently huge efforts afterwards.

-    I know, Coordinator. No one is capable to perform this transition except you and me, anyway. It still gives a little spark of hope.

-    For all of us. For even we are compelled to pay for errors of own children. Even we, Admiral. And may the miracle help them all.

-    Just before I leave you now, Coordinator, possibly forever, I nevertheless would like to ask – how is this vessel called ? I mean, how do humanoids, inhabiting it, call their home ? We have our own name for it, but nevertheless …

-    Admiral, don’t make me believe that you have already passed the process of molecular reassemblage directly before my eyes. You perfectly know how they call it, - and Coordinator smiled sadly, - that they call it “The Earth”…




29.09.2010




Fantasy as it is





History of one duel


Sir Harold was waiting for his ultimate hour. He moved backwards and forwards on the chilled ground, periodically tapping iron armoring of his shield with a sword, but even he, who has passed through tens of tournaments with live contenders, was feeling like a fish out of water. Once again he checked up his equipment, tightly pulled down his helmet, already fairly well sitting on his head, reexamined mobility of forearms plates and armor joints, silently sworn to himself under a nose, unsuccessfully trying to fix up a slipped right steel boot, and, at the long last, as if having become happy with a recent audit, stopped, raised a prepared shield higher on a shoulder and pinned the ground with his sword with all possible strength, having leant the elbows on a similarity of newly made armrest. Sir Harold was left with little options left, except for waiting - because this place, thought consecrated, yet nevertheless keeping some ominous silence, could brag with nothing else, except for a pair hundreds of tombs, stretched through its territory in rows.

His beloved, fine maiden Angelina, could show her face in any minute …




* * *




Today sir William was in an excellent spiritual mood, caused not even by those two liters of fine red wine, which he, excited with contemplation of bared female legs, has had to consume for the sake of both heart, mind and liver shortly after the beginning of a ball, by mainly by the comprehension, which has already become slightly vague, that today, in this blessed by the monarch day, his luck at last has smiled upon him. The daughter of a local count, who has organized this oh-so-hot (e-e-c!) celebration, fine maiden Angelina, after would-to-be-seem totally unsuccessful month of courting, wheezing of serenades and painfully senseless standing under the windows at last has given her consent to their personal meeting, which she unambiguously named as appointment. And almost everything would be plainly remarkable, if (e-e-c!) she had not chosen rather strange place for aforementioned meeting, being inspired by that mysterious female wisdom of sorts. No, most certainly fearless sir William wasn’t afraid of any dead persons, dead men, deceased ones, zombies, skeletons and all their ilk, especially this very moment of time, greatly encouraged by a third finished bottle, but, nevertheless, to choose a cemetery of local small town was rather a … m-m-m … exotic option for such appointments.

All these thoughts had been swirling in sir William’s head, while he was unsuccessfully trying to escape from two evils at once - red one and female one. They, these two harms, two devilishly pleasant temptations, were still doing their best to try to tempt him, while he, now having remembered of that very meeting and almost instantly having sobered up, smoothly, trying not to make any superfluous noise in a hall, maneuvering on a move between heaps of iron accessories, scattered by newly coming visitors in an absolutely senseless and chaotic manner, was making his way up to a place of a disposition of own metal inventory’s stock. 

Still trying to operate accurately, which has become quite a difficult and time-consuming task after the fourth started bottle of wine, sir William at last managed to remove his helmet from a previously created own iron heap, and rashly pulled it down on his head, which has somehow become fairly gray-haired. But to put on a breast armor seemed as almost impossible mission - for even wine, especially red one, was capable from time to time to make one look fat somehow unexpectedly, mercilessly and frankly unscrupulously, - however, after just twenty more minutes of curses and crawling he managed to perform this peculiar task as well. The problem in a form of two steel boots suddenly came out of nowhere. Having tried all imaginable combinations (presumably right boot - on a left foot, obviously left boot - on a presumably right foot, etc.) he at last was forced to drop that devilishly pointless job, having doomed own feet to travel in a new, yet somewhat little grease drawers. The last in today’s menu (after a red Burgundian wine, that’s it) were plate gauntlets and a faithful sword, which has already become a little bit blunted after his last five years old tournament. Finally, almost after half an hour from the beginning of own regimentals, having taken a sword in a right hand, and a bouquet of roses, scarlet as blood or Burgundian wine, in a left one, sir William slowly and yet somehow firmly started moving in the memorized direction to places so much more peaceful and silent then the castle of the father of his beloved one …




* * *




Sir Harold was starting to lose his patience. Enough time has passed already since that moment when Angelina should appear, but her trace still didn’t appear at all, not to mention becoming cold. And it was an easiest task to catch a cold here - a dank north wind started to blow by midnight, and clouds began to mass highly in a sky, apparently indenting to water the sinner Earth with a long-held tears. Over the earth, paying its last tribute of heat to a night air, a fog started condensing out of nowhere. Sir Harold, who began patting his armor with steel gauntlets and tapping with heels of feet on the hardened ground in a vain hope to be warmed, was almost ready to abandon this useless, judging from the point of place, deed, as suddenly unpredicted, inexplicable, bewitching and frightening phenomenon has appeared.

Directly to his dislocation, slowly and inevitably, being unsteady here and there, slicing a disobedient gray fog with feet and muttering something ominously muffled under own nose, a walking dead was moving. He was being approached by a revived dead man - the very embodiment of these infernal places, where traitorous Angelina has finally persuaded him to come!

Sir Harold had no more doubt - the hours, spent in this ground crypt, were a great acknowledgment to that feeling. A fear of the enemy, which has suddenly came out of nowhere; a curiosity, which it has born; anger on the eccentrical daughter of a foolish count; awe before her as well - all this has now mixed up in a heart of knight Harold into one indescribable and explosive mix, so much stronger than the one, knight William was capable of making from a red Burgundian wine. Without a second thought and realization of what he is aspiring to make, sir Harold rushed forward in a direction of those midnight tombs’ spawn, swinging his sword and instinctively closing his head with a shield, shouting something unrecognizable in the process.

Only the god of the dead probably knows, what exactly sir Harold was yelling during those instants of time. Perhaps, these were last words of a warrior, who suddenly realized the approach of his death and first and last time in his lifespan dared to look into its eyes without fear … Or, possibly, these were words of a lover, rushing to face the enemy and protect his beloved one … Or, maybe, these were mutual agonal damnations of former friends, who have gone into their hatred far too far. Heck, who really knows what he was screaming! It’s truly difficult to notice that in minutes like that. Anyway, but in that very instant of time, when he at last reached oh-so-dead-one and with all possible force smashed him with a sword into armored chest, his last words sounded approximately like : “ … ie, beast !”

Oh-m-m-m-m-y-y-y-y-y-y! Ouch, it hurts! Now I’m gonna make you, assh … ! - the almost-dead-one started to yell, and, having dumped a helmet from a left hand, which has unknowingly taken a place there, and having bared his feet (or were initially like those ?), jumped out forward, violently swinging his sword in turn. - Now I’ll make ye! Like that! And that way! Y-e-a-a-h-h! Take that, you! W-w-h-h-h-o-o-o-h-h-h! - he continued screaming, turning around over his feet and sending new blows to the unknown foe.

Finally, either having been inspired with a made progress, or having definitely lost all battle heat, it suddenly ceased swirling and stupidly stared ahead.

- Harold! - William! - William! - Harold! - suddenly shouted both died one, as well as nearly died one.

- What are you doing here?! You have nearly killed me, you iron fool!

- Just look at yourself, dressed up like a walking dead and roam the nights dead one knows where!

- Boys! - approaching female voice suddenly broke the chill darkness. - Boys, don’t even dare to quarrel!

And, having that said, just like a werewolf from a night, maiden Angelina, or Anzhelina, or even Angelica, or just even Angela for members of her family only, or pretty simply “my beloved”, appeared, covered in a bit disarranged from a fast running plaid.

- I’ll explain it all to you right now! - she promised, smiling. - Well, here … it’s … a timeframe accident, yes, - she admitted confusedly.

- You! - sir Harold exhaled.

- You! - sir William repeated just the same.

- How dared you! - Harold croaked.

- How you dared! - William paraphrased.

It seemed as if former friends, who have now almost come to senses from a previous shock of their meeting, are now ready to seize each other once more.

- Duel! - sir William shouted.

- Duel!- sir Harold confirmed his fears.

- Up to the first blood! - sir William tried to be more specific.

- You bet! - sir Harold encouraged him.

- Let’s do it! - sir William allowed.

- To battle! - sir Harold ascertained.

- K-k-k-i-i-i-i-l-l-l-l him! - Angelina screamed suddenly.

And a fight, which has almost taken place, still remained insolvent.

- So you … - sir Harold tried to begin.

- Has made us meet together for purpose … - sir William tried to continue.

- For you it was … - sir Harold assumed.

- Entertainment! - sir William was terrified.

- You … - sir Harold almost went angry.

- Inutile so-to-be-writer … - sir William almost calmed down.

- So-to-be-count-daughter, - sir Harold corrected him a bit.

- Count-yet-another-useless-night, - sir William uttered with a braided language.

- Let’s get out of here, - sir Harold offered.

- Sounds reasonable, - sir William summed it up.

- Boys, boys, wait a moment, where are you going? What, are you not going to fight for me?! - maiden Anzhelina asked with astonishment and sacredly, having quickly glanced over both of them. - And for what damn reason have I then specifically asked you to put on those rusty cans, and what for did I constrain myself for more than a month, and for what unknown purpose did I ask my father to buy that red Burgundian wine, from which one of you have definitely lost his head along with a helmet and started crying with these ping Burgundian snivels?! - she was enraged.

- I don’t battle with my fellow countrymen! - sir Harold replied.

- Especially for ones such as you! - sir William welcomed his reply.

- Wait a minute, do you mean that you both know each other?! - Angelina was surprised, still trying to keep on herself a plaid, which has almost flied from her back.

- A bit … - sir Harold answered evasively.

- We battled once in a tournament, - sir William dispelled her doubts.

-  A-a-a-n-n-d-d …  who finally prevailed? - Angelina found nothing better but to ask exactly that way.

- Doesn’t matter … - a fellow countryman William answered evasively.

- Let’s leave, - fellow countryman Harold summed up.

- One Burgundian wine for each of us? - knight William made an offer.

- To end such an end, it will surely suffice! - knight William assured him.

And with these words being said, two fellow countryman, who have known each other for almost five years, two knights without a sign of fear or reproach, two admirers and subjugators of ladies and two fans of red Burgundian wine, slowly and continuing speaking and approvingly knocking each other with steel gauntlets on shoulders, were going away from a mournful place of bitterness, eternity and love, which has mournfully become a bitterness in the eternity.

They were departing - and the culprit of the future celebration, eccentrical maiden Angelina, or just Anzhelina, or even simply Angelica, was sitting on a free tombstone and crying.

What was she crying about that very day? Did she cry of the eternal and endless love, which she has always wanted to have, and which she always had to kill for the sake of social norms, accepted in a society? Did she cry of a proud and unshakable machismo, easily shaken by a red Burgundian wine? Did she cry of own powerlessness to solve something through power? Or of own unwillingness to solve something at all for now?

Who the dead man knows what was she crying about that dark and mourning night!

But anyway, even this seemingly eternal night ended once … and the very next morning from almost inconspicuous apartments of a count’s castle a painfully familiar voice cried out: 

Heck, and where is my last saved bottle of Burgundian wine?!

Morals :

The less we know the woman - the easier we live,

The more we know the woman - together better thrive.




05.04.2011




How RPG heroes will battle with the Ancient Red Dragon


1. Warrior

There is nothing easier for him than to defeat some unfledged flying lizard. Before entering the den of a dragon he triply loudly tries to challenge him on a “fair fight” and then, having received only silence in reply, barges into the lair himself. Feeling absolutely no confusion from a view of a heap of bones and skulls, scattered through the lair (he had to see much more intriguing things in battles, after all), finds a lurked dragon. Performs a short war-call speech, like “Into the battle !” to encourage himself, and straight off rushes into a fight.  When the dragon tries to breath a fire on him, instinctively defends with a shield. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next titbit of a roasted meat, spitting out indigestible iron trinkets in a process.




2. Thief

Waits for whole year to choose the longest and darkest night possible. This night creeps to a den exactly at midnight. Thoroughly searches for a secret door. Having found none, opens front entrance with a lock pick, and makes a way in a den on tiptoe, trying not to make much noise (who knows, maybe dragon suddenly does not sleep yet ?). Searches heaps of bones and skulls in a search of valuables. Finds a sleeping dragon. Accurately walk around, setting the traps he has brought with himself. 

Hides in a shade behind a stone and throws a poisoned dagger from his cover. When a dragon, having awakened from something light, which has struck him and slid off his scales, half-asleep breathes a fire, illuminating at least half of his den, the thief tries to hide in a shade of the flashed fire. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next titbit of a roasted meat, spitting out all those jewelry in a process, previously concealed by a dragon and then pocketed by a thief, which now have been returned to their lawful legal owner once again.




3. Priest

Before going to a campaign against a dragon, thoroughly prays to his gods for them to strengthen his belief and grant him their divine aid in a battle with winged demon.  Going to a campaign, he stocks up with several liters of holy water. Having at last reached journey’s point of destination, he approaches a den and blesses himself. Being inspired by the made successes, he fearlessly enters the lair. Tries to revive the souls of living beings, sent into nonexistence by the winged demon previously, by casting Raise Read spell and splashing holy water on them. When a dragon, having noticed this obscenity, flies close to a priest, the priest blesses himself once again with a sacred sign, shouting : “I banish you, evil one !”. He has the time to cast Bless, Divine Favor, Prayer, Holy Word and Fire Resistance, before the dragon spits a stream of fire on him. Breathed fire heats up an armor of the priest to 50C and then in his last efforts the servant of gods tries to extinguish the fire around him with last remnants of holy water.  After that the dragon needs only to breath a fire stream once more to have a supper from a next tidbit of a roasted meat, having satisfied his thirst with several liters of holy water, yet not splashed by faithless priest.




4. Paladin

He has been born to struggle against such evils that destroy settlements of innocent peasants and eat their virgin girls. Having not a slightest sign of hesitation and fear, wasting no unnecessary words (except for something like “For the sake of justice !”), goes on a campaign against the dragon. After many days of travelling and having reached a lair, enters it fearlessly. Having not a slightest sign of hesitation and fear, bravely walks over the heaps of bones and skulls through a den. Seeing a dragon, shouts : “Godless creature ! Today’s yours Doomsday !” and heads into the battle, swinging his sparkling sword Holy Avenger + 5. Has not a slightest sign of hesitation and fear when exhaled stream of fire comes near him. After that his armor, heated up to 120C, surpasses in the degree of brilliance even his sacred sword. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next tidbit of a roasted meat, having carefully spat out (and having added to the already impressive list of his treasures) Holy Avenger +5 sword.




5. Mage

Before going on a campaign, for several years sits at reading of ancient books and manuscripts, concerning the history of dragons race, their arrival into this world, their classification, character traits and basic habits and, finally, their weak spots. 

Having being armed with all that knowledge along with an ancient magic staff and several tens of spell scrolls, at last starts his voyage. Having passed some kilometers and having been tired of walking on foot, casts Fly and then overcomes all remained distance to a lair in several pitiful minutes. 

Having noticed a den, casts Detect Magic on it. Becomes alerted when the spell displays the hugest fluctuations of magic force in a den. Carefully surveys den’s vicinities, trying to digest unrecorded magical fluctuations. Before entering a lair casts on himself all that magic stuff like Haste, Minor Globe Of Invulnerability, Major Globe Of Invulnerability, Greater Globe Of Invulnerability, Lesser Magic Reflection, Greater Magic Reflection, Protection From Elements, Protection From Evil, Protection From Alignment, Stoneskin, Greater Stoneskin, Spell Immunity, Total Immunity, and only then accurately enters it. Takes breath when he determines that the source of detected earlier magical fluctuations are, in fact, artifacts, scattered together with heaps of bones and skulls. Overcomes the desire to be engaged in their immediate studying, having decided to postpone this sort of business for later attention. Trying not to lose too much time, moves through a den and notices a lying dragon at last. When the dragon flies up to him, intending to engulf him in flames, mage casts Time Stop and then beholds the dragon, frozen in air, unable to look away from its strong as a steel red scales, and trying to remember, for what powerful magic component this scaly ingredient was required. Having regained one’s senses, casts a Fireball on a hovering dragon. Having noticed, that it has not affected the dragon as it was supposed to do, finally remembers the descriptions, read earlier in manuscripts, of representatives of his kind and (in particular) their total and complete invulnerability to fire. Still have some time to cast Chain Lightning, which, along with hitting the dragon, as a side effect destroys practically all artifacts, stocked up by the dragon, after that the dragon come away from period of time-nonexistence, and spits out a fire stream on a dire magician. The mage observes with surprise his magical staff, which has become an analogue of a torch in Christmas night, and only then on the edges of his consciousness realizes, that all effects of his magic protections have had just enough time to already vanish. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next tidbit of a roasted meat, having replenished his magical supplies from a heap of rings, necklaces and other jewelry, spat out from the chewed magician.




6. Barbarian

Having learnt that somewhere in his vicinities lives some ancient, and, moreover, red dragon, screams with a loud war-call and runs in the direction, where (presumably) the dragon should dwell. Having been running for several days, at the long last comes by some sort of miracle across a dragon’s den. Emits a war cry once again, calling a dragon on a fight. When a dragon, woken up by this inhuman roar, claws out of his cave, the barbarian enters a berserker mode and tries to chop a dragon into pieces. After that the dragon needs only to observe a fairly fire-bathed and still violently twitching muscular body of a former dragon’s bane.




7. Ranger

Becomes very disappointed, having learnt that the ancient red dragon does not dwell in woods. Then, having loaded himself with several quivers of arrows, starts the voyage. Carefully investigates all traces, found on the road, trying to identify, which of them can possibly belong to a dragon. After many days of travelling finally reaches a den. Compares traces around a den with earlier taken samples to become convinced that it’s the valid den of a valid dragon. Before entering a lair, summons Black Bear from the nearest forest. Creeps into the lair together with a bear. Observes with astonishment, how this very hungry bear eats remains of unlucky adventurers, slaughtered by a dragon. Having noticed a dragon from afar, fires several tens of arrows, which lay down accurately on a circle around the paws of a sleeping dragon, thus calling him for a fight.

When the dragon wakes up and flies up to him, sets on his summoned bear. With edge of his eye observes, how a bear, already stuffed up with food, instead of eating a dragon sits down near him and starts licking own paws. With edge of another eye observes, how all quivers of arrows on his back flash in a fire. Has some time left to feel a heat, coming somewhere from all directions, and to see dragon claws just before his face. After that the dragon needs only to feel the charm of the torn and roasted meat of not only the hero himself, but his not less unlucky forest companion.




8. Bard

Before going to a campaign, composes a ballad Of The Great And Mighty Red Dragon, Covering The Half Of Firmament On A Flight. Becomes greatly inspired when a half of local small town comes to attend to this concert. Then composes a ballad Of The Fearless Hero Who Went On A Campaign Against The Bane Of The Heavens. After having received a thousand question of who is this fearless hero, decides that time for a campaign has probably finally come. Moves into adventuring, composing new and new ballads on the way Of The Battle With Red Wyrm, Of The Red Plague Of Heavens and on, and on, thereby constantly gathering around him crowds of local gapers. When he reaches dragon’s den at last, discovers that all that public has been blown off like by the fire. Enters a lair, singing a ballad Of The Young Bard, Fearlessly Stepping Into A Lair Of The Ancient Beast. Having entered the lair and come across remains of your adventurers, composes on the fly a tearful song Of The Heroes, Who Disgracefully Died In The Dark Cave, trying to encourage himself. When a dragon, awakened by some hoarse singing voice, flies up to him, tries to compose a lullaby ballade Of How The Dragon Went Into Eternal Rest. The dragon, however, completely unimpressed with such melodies, exhales a burst of flame, and after that event all the remaining crowd have to compose in joint efforts a new (in last in this season) ballade Of How The Hero Over Here Was Lost In The Den Over There.




9. Monk

Before going into a campaign, diligently meditates for some days, trying to dive into Nirvana. Having left this blissful state, finds out that that time for campaign has already come a long time ago – and then finally moves on. Having passed several kilometers and having been tired of such slow way of movement, starts running and thus surpasses all remaining distance in mere several hours. Having run to a den, sits down in a pose of lotus and plunges himself into meditation once again. Having left this blissful state after several days, finds out that he’s just in the time borders of his journey. Runs into a lair. On the fly diligently maneuvers across heaps of bones and skulls, trying not to bash any of them. Having not noticed a dragon on the move, bashes into him – and then sits down near its paws and plunges himself into deepest meditation. The woken up dragon breathes a stream of fire, which does not cause the hero any harm, for he has already made his body absolutely immune to pain. By that time the monk, who has left meditation, notices that the dragon has already woken up, and enters a fistfight with him. After that the dragon needs only to regale on a body and (separately) head of the hero, which have now been made totally and absolutely immune to any sorts of pain.




21.10.2010




How RPG heroes will brawl in a tavern


1. Fighter

Constantly holds an impressive bastard sword in his hands before the eyes of his listeners, sometimes swinging it clockwise in hands for the sake of impression. When some listener tries to object him, moves his sword closer to that impudent one and put it on his shoulder, unambiguously looking in his eyes. After that the objecting one immediately loses all desires to object.




2. Thief

While everyone argue with each other, has enough time to empty pockets of ten gapers, to steal pair of mugs of ale from local barman and to expropriate a necklace from a neck of his daughter, - and then hides in shadows and waits until everyone becomes bothered enough to be still engaged in this phrase-mongering. After dispute comes to an end and loss is being detected and the alarm starts to reign in the tavern, thief has enough time to cut even more purses of the traders, who have so inopportunely appeared here, and even to relief pockets of one of guards, who has come to pacify commoners, from his recent pay. After that he safely slips away from a tavern into darkness of night and disappears in it without the court.  




3. Priest

When he is displeased with something or huffs seriously, he calls the debater as “daemon” and casts Exorcism on him. The spell, as a rule of the thumb, does not make any actual effect, but, nevertheless, is accompanied by such grandiose illuminations, that inspired public immediately falls on knees altogether and start singing prayers to the priest. And the priest, well, starts singing them to his deity.




4. Paladin

Having noticed a crowd of drunk gapers in a tavern, organizes a discussion along with brainwashing, concerning just and pure life. Then preaches a sermon to the local barman, his daughter and even the tavern itself. After all local tavern brotherhood, not really impressed with such talks, approaches him in a crowd, he removes his sparkling sword Holy Avenger + 5 from sheath, and after that all commoners get stricken with temporarily blindness (basically because of the sight of jewels, inlaying the sword) and immediately become paladin’s best friends. Being proud of such transformation of dark human soul and bearing his head highly, he leaves a tavern to amaze new evils in any form possible.




5. Mage

After some local mortal idler dares to name him as “maggie puppy” and another local mortal fool doubts his great magic abilities, casts Demon Gate and summons a Balor King from the Abyss. After Balor devours all tavern of local mortal brotherhood and is banished back to the Underworld, the devastated tavern appears to be totally in no condition to dispute with local conjurer.




6. Barbarian

The time someone starts to argue in style “to be or not to be”, from misunderstanding of these foolish high substances he becomes enraged, and, having entered a berserker condition, emits such roar that all local inhabitants immediately become deaf. After that they have only to silently observe, how mad barbarian crashes into pieces all local tavern furniture, like in a mute cinema.




7. Ranger

Bashes into a tavern along with his Ancient Brown Bear and then, having set up on a table, orders drink (for himself) and meal (for his forest friend). While everyone amazingly whispers with each other and cautiously look at the bear, who has taken a sit near a table as well, devastates ordered glass of drink and inquires, where is it possible to hunt nearby.  Calms down the rest of local rascals, who have not fallen unconscious already, having specified, that he hunts exclusively in woods. Having learnt approximate coordinates and interrupted further specifications with words “I’ll find it myself !”, leaves a tavern. Notices, that the bear has grown too fat from the recent meal, and thus cannot pass through doors, - and then takes out arrow from a quiver and ends his tortures. Then summons a new bear (this time from the outer side of a tavern) – and finally goes on wood hunting.




8. Bard

Becomes the best story-teller in all local districts, so all tavern patrons of ten more nearby villages come to listen to him. Indefatigably composes new and new ballads and songs until he dies from old age. After that yet another bard comes on his funeral and starts to compose new ballads and songs about this singer, who have decided to rest in peace so untimely.




9. Monk

Silently enters a tavern, silently sits down on a floor and silently dives into Nirvana. After that all attempts of local gapers to help him come to his senses end up with no result visible, and so they finally decide to leave him alone. Having returned back into this world several days after, he finds out that some dancing is being performed around him, and then leaves this world once again. Having returned to it some months after, finds out that instead of local tavern only its burns ashes are around him and he sits almost on open air. Makes a mind note to himself, that this is a very quiet place and it would be necessary to return to it afterwards, and decides to return back to his monastery for now.




21.10.2010




How RPG heroes will install Windows


1. Warrior

Pushes an installation disk into the drive with the help of steel gauntlet. Moves nearby, while installation process is being performed, practicing swords swinging and shaking, and sometimes bashing his shield for greater frightening effect. When the installation is finally completed and during the first boot Windows hangs up, he smashes thrice-damned device into an incalculable number of small slices in his mighty rage.




2. Thief

Acquires a pirated copy of the latest beta-version of Windows for just 2 silver coins, silently opens a drive with a lock pick, puts a disk there and then even more silently closes the drive and launches installation process. When the message popups : “A new device has been detected : Windows disk”, - shouts “Hell, we’ve been spotted !” and runs away with such a speed that only his heels sparkle.




3. Priest

Before begging the installation process, blesses Windows media disk and splashes holy water on it, and only after those important procedures inserts it into a drive. When the drive cannot read seriously watered disk and a message popups : “Unable to read from device. Abort ? Retry ? Ignore ?” he overshadows himself in horror, shouting “I banish thee, unholy one !” and starts moving around the computer, singing holy prayers. After two hours of travelling (during which the disk has just enough time to completely dry up) tries to repeat the process once again. After the installation process completes successfully, kneels and performs yet another three-hour praise to the gods that they have heard his modest prayers and have aided him in his struggle against the evil.




4. Paladin

Takes Windows installation disk and lay on hands on it. Waits for several minutes and then inserts a disk in a drive. As soon as installation starts, put his Ankh on a chassis for greater effect. When the installation process finishes and during the first boot Windows hangs up, proclaims : “Disbeliever ! Feel the wrath of Gods !” and smashes accursed device into a lot of tiny pieces. 




5. Mage

Carefully takes Windows installation disk and casts Identify spell on it. After the spell determines the version of Windows on a disk, casts a Detect Magic spell on it. When his spell detects nothing unusual, breathes with a sign of relief and cast a Detect Alignment spell on it. Becomes wary after the spell detects Alignment : Chaotic Neutral. Casts a Purify spell on disk and only then finally launches installation process. Having fun with own familiar during the installation process. After the installation completes, repeatedly casts Detect Alignment spell on a computer. Becomes alerted even more, when a spell determines Alignment : Chaotic Evil. Casts Time Stop, trying to decipher, what magical streams have created such astounding alteration of disk’s alignment. Reboots the computer. When during the first boot Windows hangs up, becomes extremely angered, casting on himself Haste, Greater Globe Of Invulnerability, Greater Reflect Magic, Stoneskin, Ironskin, Total Immunity and then at last casts Improved Fireball on ill-fated device, enjoying a smell of burned rubber and wires. 




6. Barbarian

Takes installation disk, plays with it, trying to understand, by what side it should be inserted into a drive. Puts a disk into a drive by the first found side. After that emits a heart-breaking war cry in order to start installation process. When Windows disk shutters into pieces from such vibrations, becomes extremely enraged and, having entered a berserker condition, smashes accursed device (and what is remained from a disk as well) into a thousand and one pieces.




7. Ranger

Shoots an arrow and opens a drive, having hit Eject button. Puts installation Windows disk on a second arrow and fires it in a drive. When a disk, having fallen from an arrow just in time just into a drive, starts installation process. While installation process goes on, summons Black Bear and discusses with him the delights of the wood hunting, which have allowed him to find an aforementioned disk in a belly of some unlucky wood troll together with even less lucky thief – the initial owner of the disk, - swallowed by the troll. When the installation processes comes to its end and during the first boot Windows hangs up, sets his Black Bear on a chassis, while making a pillow for needles from a monitor himself.




8. Bard

Before inserting a disk in a drive, takes it out for everyone to behold and starts singing a ballade of far kingdoms and treasures of Goddess-destiny, who have helped him to once find such a wonderful and admirable artifact. When somewhat about twenty gawks and gapers gather around him, sings not less heart-touching ballade of the terrifying black dragon, nicknamed Microsoft, whom he along with his comrades-in-arms have finally defeated in a bloody and just battle, and in whose lair such artifact has been found. When somewhat about fifty gawks and gapers gather around him, at last dares to insert this disk in a drive. When a message popups : “Unregistered Windows copy. To register, go to : www.microsoft.com” , makes a sad gesture and sings even more heart-touching ballade of a deceit, lie and insidiousness, reigning in the lands of Faerun.




9. Monk

Puts installation disk on the unremarkable stone shrine, and makes a holy circular detour. After that sits down in a pose of a lotus and begins his meditation. After ten-hour meditation comes to his senses, softly puts a disk in a drive and launches installation process. Dives into meditation again, while the installation process goes on. After fifteen-hour meditation comes to his senses and sees, that the system cannot continue the installation process because of a necessity to press Any Key for process’s continuation. Presses Any Key, and once again plunges himself into meditation. After three-hour meditation returns to this world once again, and sees, that system has hung up. Having overcome an internal impulse of anger of his essence, starts installation anew, and sits down to meditate. After fifteen-hours meditation sees, that the system asks him to press Any Key once again. Again presses Any Key and plunges himself into meditation. After three-hour meditation comes back to this world once more only to observe that the system has hung yet again. Repeatedly having overcome an internal impulse of anger of his essence, starts all process (including meditation) anew. After twentyfold repetition of a situation as last enrages and demonstrates finesse of kickboxing to a computer. Becomes satisfied only when there is not even a smallest object, which have a dent from his fists, left, - and then sits down to meditate once again, as always.




29.10.2010




H means : Hope





Beloved one


He triumphed. He was in the seventh heaven.

She loves him! Loves!

He heard it from her gracious lips - she told him that! And there was not a sign of falseness and lie, no room for a deceit. 

He anticipated it, felt it with his very bones. He felt it with all his being. He knew that she was telling the truth.

Something that she was experiencing; something what was worrying her; something she was dreaming about; something she told him this wonderful spring evening - one which he cherished in dreams and awaited, one to fulfill his past dream, one which made him alive once again. As if to be born anew.

Silent spring evening …

He was saying that he has fallen in love with her, that his heart trembles when he looks at her, admiring, that he’s glad to have met her in this magnificent world. In this wonderful world he has met her - wonderful. World’s ornament, a pearl, a sunray.

He kept speaking and saw how a charming and mysterious smile has appeared on her face. And when he finally has stopped, he heard these words.

These words!

Great music, fine music - one from her heart.

- I love you. I too love you. And desire to be with you forever.

Words sounded gently and mysteriously silently - but not for him. He shouted it all loudly, having no fear or hesitation of  his feeling. That way so all can hear him - to be heard by entire world. So that the entire world can rejoice together with him.

- I love you! I do love you!

Words soared high and widely.

That’s the way it’s going to be. He will sing of own love, fearing no one, feeling no hesitation for he has nothing to be afraid of. He loves her as well as the life itself. From now on he loves them.

It seemed as if heavens itself have smiled during this instant of time - smiled, blessing the love.

His voice versed highly in heavens. Casual passers-by were still continuing to look back at them, singing of their love. Some of them were even smiling.

And then they have been standing together for a long time, embraced. So totally close to each other. She has become a native one to him - a woman, close to his heart and soul. She was such a one even before these words, and not just after. For he did love her and not his own love instead, and was glad to give his love to another.

And they were running forward and forward, and fresh air was blowing in their faces, and the sun was playing on them. Much like the sun their feeling was shining in their souls, that of two enamored hearts.

And then a late evening came. Came so extraordinary quickly. And he accompanied her to her home - and said goodbye until tomorrow. Yes, till tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a new wonderful day - and they shall meet again, as always.

Two close to each other persons. Two similar hearts …

They have been meeting time and again - for days and weeks. Months. And every day gave something new. Offered the joy of talking with each other - dialogue without rage, anger and offenses, with no sign of pain - for the did love each other. Gave perception of inner depth of darling and dear one, powers for joyful creativity in life. Their life. Young blossoming life.

A year later they have got married - and lived together for three years. Three years …

And then he received a letter from his beloved. A touching letter. A farewell letter.

* * *

A man with cheerful and kind look - the sight of young man, completely hiding from random passer-by his already elderly age, has smiled sadly and put an envelope aside. Then, seventeen years ago he has received this letter of his beloved.

A farewell letter. A letter full of light grief and long forgotten memoirs. But - returned once again at reading of the message. He was reading through it, and tears were slowly sliding on his coarse cheeks. He was crying.

These eyes, crying so seldom, were now crying nevertheless. He was remembering: his former life, their love - and thus he was crying.

He hasn’t ceased to love her. Hasn’t ceased. And that is why he was crying.

After all, he sincerely believed that they won’t ever part ways. Ever. He was mistaken, cruelly mistaken …

Cruelly? But can he say that he’s unhappy for now? He has a wife - a wonderful and lovely woman, whom he loves as well and of whom he cares - as strongly as he once did in relation to that woman. He has remarkable children - a boy and a girl, his hope and joy - two suns, two miracles.

He is happy. 

Simply … simply old memoirs still chafe his mind, tormenting his soul. He can’t forget … forget the day when he has received this letter. Tears were filling his eyes that day - same as now.

And she did cry as well … were crying while writing this letter to him. They remained as they are - her tears - on sheets of this paper, which he was holding so gently and quaveringly in his hands. What was she crying about these days? Of their parting? Of their intimate dreams of long joint life which had no chance to come true? Of their common love?

He didn’t know - she gave no response. Was only crying - and has sent him this letter.

The letter …

Here it is before him. Semi-erased lines and words. But it didn’t disturb him - he remembered it by heart - each and every word written.

Indeed, she has found another - the one whom she too loves very much and can’t live without - so she has written. She has fallen in love with another.

And does she continue loving him as well? Remembers occasionally with gratitude? He knew no answer - once again there was no answer for yet another question. Yet he distinctly knew one thing - he has continued loving her, remembering with gratitude. He was grateful to her - for all those bright minutes of life, which she has given him.

May she be happy with her new beloved, may all is going well for both of them!

Yes, let she be happy! He wished her happiness from the bottom of own heart. He wished good luck for that new man as well, with whom she has been living for now.

For he is a person as well. Much like he is. And thus he deserves happiness.

Let they be happy! Let all loving ones be happy as well! Let they learn to love, demanding nothing in return. Let they learn the giving love. Love like a sun.

Yes, - he has thought, - let it be so.

Let it be!

15.03.2012




Born for life


- Mummy, mum, look, it’s the shop I have told you about! Let’s go there and you buy me that big transformer that I have asked, ok?

- No, sonny, you’ll get a transformer on your birthday – and currently we have no money for such entertainments.

- But mummy, please! I have begged you of that for so long. I want that transformer I’ve told you so much! He’s the leader of good transformers who are battling with Megatron, I want exactly him! Please, mummy, buy! And I will clear all my room, ok? Well, mummy, ok? Will you buy?

- Pavel, no. I have already told you – I cannot buy it for you at present. Only on your birthday. But now I cannot. I cannot. All right, and now let’s go buy some food. We shall make something tasty for a supper, well?

- All right …, - but there is was no way possible to tell by the voice of a kid that he would gladly tradeoff the possibility to possess a toy of his dream for one tasty pie or cake.

Mother – still rather young woman of thirty years and her son – one could give him five-six year judging by his look, - turned away and starting moving into the opposite from a toy shop direction. The child sighted and finally turned away his look. He didn’t manage to beg mummy once again, and this means that he’ll have to wait for several more month to get his favourite toy… However they didn’t manage to travel for long.

- Lena! Lenochka, is that you? – and some woman approached his mother.

His mother turned to face her and a smile appeared on her face.

- Olga! Hello! By what ways have you managed to be here?

- I am on a business trip. Public relations, business meetings. Well, you understand me, - and she smiled. – Well, and how are you living?

- Normally. Not so smartly as you do, certainly, but quite well nevertheless.

They kept silence for a while.

- After all, we haven’t seen each other for ten years … - for some reason his mother said this even somehow sadly.

- Yes, ten years … How fast did they pass for me … just like an instant. And what about you?

- No, for me it was not quick. They were interesting for me. Totally thanks to him, - and his mother pointed to him with a hand.

- Oh, that must be Pa … Pavel, right? And I remember him being a tiny child… - Hello, Pavlik, - said this woman and, having stretched his hand, added, - give aunt a hand!

He looked at his mother. She was smiling as if saying – “well, sonny, greet this aunt”. Then he transferred his look to the unfamiliar woman and slightly given her his hand. When she has taken his small palm into her own, as if some sort of cold and at the same time burning wave passed through it. He fitfully, sharply and awkwardly drawn his hand aside.

- Just look at how unsociably are we! – the unfamiliar woman frowned eyebrows and pursed her lips. – Well, fine, if you don’t want to greet me well – have it your way. At least I have no such problems, - she added slightly more silently. – Listen, Lenysya. I stopped here in one hotel for about five days. I could call on you somehow – let’s talk with each other, after all we haven’t met for quite a while, old friends, that sort of things, - the stranger woman smiled. Well, how’s that?

His mother reflected for a while.

- All right, - she answered about five seconds after. – I will gladly meet with you. Come tonight – I write down my street address to you.

Then there were digging in bags, searches for pieces of paper, specifications of address. He listened no more. When after ten more minutes his mother finally said goodbye to that woman, she approached him, winked and told – “Today aunt Olya will come to us. Be the clear head and behave well”, - and mother kissed him on a forehead.

He shuddered, when he heard it. He shuddered from the very thought that he must stand near this woman again, to sustain her sight full of hostility, and even greet and say goodbye to her again! Perhaps, he couldn’t explain precisely even to yourself of what exactly he disliked in that woman, - but already at the thought of her he was filled with disgust.

- I don’t want her to come to us, - he whispered.

- You don’t want? What does it mean that you don’t want? No, we cannot refuse her. Sonny, I haven’t seen her for much time, and she is my former classmate. I cannot refuse her offer!

- I don’t want, don’t want, don’t want it! She is a bad woman, I don’t want her to come!

- Stop it! Cease these idle talks immediately! Now we will come back home and I shall cook meal and then we will be awaiting her. And no but’s to me!

The child began crying. He began crying when his mother pulled him by hand and led home, giving no chance not to obey her desire. The feeling of extremely abandoness and forlornness overwhelmed him – as though the entire world together with his mother in a flash of time turned away from him.

They were going and going back home. For all road long he has been imagining himself how that woman continuously drills him with her gaze, and he desired to burst out crying even more strongly. When this painful and unceasingly long way has finally come to an end, and he entered their house, - he ran into his room, rushed on a bed and having closed himself from disappointment by a pillow and concealed himself in a blanket, went silent.

He vaguely remembered what was going on after. It seems, mother has finally found him in his shelter. It seems, she forced him to put on some awkward ironed suit. It seems, they have been waiting for the guest then. This expectation appeared painful – and when he saw before him the face of this woman with a fake smile on it, when he was forced to feel this ice-burning touch once more – he almost started crying again. Then his mother for long has been chatting with that woman. He didn’t listen to them – he was allowed to sit alone in the room (oh, how he was glad of that!). Only occasionally scraps of words and phrases reached him.

… hi! Here I am …

… ite? 

… yep. This is my business suite. So, how do I look like in that?

… my, … what’s that?

… don’t look at a bracelet! Better look at these earrings…

… yes …

… yes, come in.

… oh, such close space … How … live like that?!

… how can. Not … ch.

… yes …

… faugh, away! Have gathered … ur creatures! I am having allergy on a wool!

Then conversation, apparently, became totally silent, so he could hear nothing. Besides, he didn’t listen too attentively – only loud sounds from time to time reached his ears.

… and?

… so what?

… oh really?

… and how are you?

… still the same?

… oh, never mind … what of you?

Like that it has been going for about an hour more. Then all went silent for some reason – and fifteen minutes later amazed voice of his mother loudly shouted …

- What have you done?!

… abandoned. Not a big deal or damage! Besides he … not … uired.

… child … left?! In … maternity home?

… have told – he was not required for me. But this … bastard survived … even … usage … pills! To go to do … abort … with friends … not. And …use … I … left him … there … some compassionate woman … take care … him.

… how … could you?! He … live … an!

… for me … who cares? Was … ive and will be live, if … taken care! I … don’t care. I … my own life … don’t want … waste … such … ids! I … still … oung. Figure … should take care. Well … you understand.

- … no understand! How many … yours … abandoned?! How many were left alone?! They must … ably … died!

- … well … left two … abort …made … three times. And … no look like that … me! It’s … my life after all!

Then his mother once again started speaking silently for some reason – and a minute later her loud voice made him clamp own ears…

- … from my apartment … not a friend! You … iller! Small … hild killed! Abandoned! Get away!

A noise followed and he, having looked out from a door of his room, has seen, how his mother almost pushed out that woman to an exit door.

…et away! No … uch … friend!

… ill leave! No such … upid … lf-sacrificial silly woman for me!

Several more seconds passed and with a roar the door was closed, showing the door staying. When he heard the noise of approaching steps, he rushed on a bed and concealed himself with a blanket. His mother came close to him, lifted up a blanket and strongly embraced him. She was crying.

- Forgive me … onny. I should have listened to you. You felt her better than I did. I … could not. I didn’t think … that … such a … ruel! … ve me, darling!

He looked at his mother. Saw these sad crying eyes, felt these warm hands, this overwhelming him love – and selflessly hugged his mother.

- … cannot … image … should feel … at child … was … being killed! … only … enter the world … was instead … ruthlessly … murdered! My God! What … for! Such … ittle … kid … killed!

His mother continued crying. He nestled on her even stronger.

- You … me … Will not … allow … to hurt you! My darling … Pasha … live … small … man!

- I love you, mummy!

- Sonny, I too do love you!

* * *

- That’ it. I clearly remember that day still, even though I was about five years old by that time.

- Have you not met that woman afterwards?

- No. And neither did my mother – relations with that woman were finished forever. Mother didn’t want to see her in our house any longer. 

- Yes, probably you are right. How good is that you have not happened to be a “son” of such a mother! Because then I would probably have not ever met you in that world.

- And I too would never meet you. Yes, someone is ready to kill children – they are being killed each and every day. No one even consider how many people could be born – and has been killed because of feat of responsibility, foolish whim, because of cowardice, cruelty … Soon the motherhood and the birth of even a single child will become similar to a feat of courage … the most natural will become the “privilege of great people” … It’s good to know that there are still those who are not afraid of this “feat”, there are mothers. We were lucky. It’s a pity that others were not so. It’s worth hoping that people will rethink and understand, that all their “aborts” are murders. Justifications have no value – there is an act and there is a consequence – for the world and for the actor himself. And they cannot be changed – until actions themselves remain the same.

- Yes, I know, you are speaking the truth. But let’s stop thinking of that at least for second, ok? All right? And now, Pavel, take me by my hand. Stronger! Not listen to what I wanna tell you …

02.05.2012




Dead City


It does exist – and yet it doesn’t.

It always was – but they preferred to keep silence of its existence previously.

It calls for you as something delightful yet forbidden – but few ones have time to feel its true bitterness. 

It is so much similar to the constructed Babel tower, yet more and more are willing to climb to its top.

It grows outside and inside of you invisibly, braiding with webs all corners of your soul. And that is why so many consider it as nonexistent.

Its stench seems fragrance from distance, and its fire – lovely illumination.

Practically no one came back from it. And those few who did were humans no more.

So much has been told about it … yet this does not reduce the number of its pilgrims.

It never lived – and that is why it doesn’t know such thing as death.

It has been born along with the human. Will it be extinguished before him ?

Yes, it looks like a massive city. But this is a Dead City.

A city of former love, now long since dead. A cemetery.

Graves, graves, graves …

Each of them is unique - one of a kind. But do corpses really need to be unique ?

Tombstones - and inscriptions, inscriptions, inscriptions…




“Linen washing is so bad … start delight yourself like mad”, - as though the first squeals.

“A goat he was – a goat he is, no more loving, cease, cease, cease. Perhaps I’ll now just kill him, rather, - he’s always mine, never another !”, - threatens with all possible force the second.

“For how much long, for how much long you’ll have me in the bed, my pong ?!” - overstrains in the silent exclamation to the unknown listener the third.

“From own husband I have pain … but is new lover better gain ?” - uncertainly-shy longs the forth.

“Without family we have a lot of joyful, shining staff … who didn’t want us is just shy, so let them rot and let them die !”, - as though gives orders to dead ones the fifth.

“You’re rather damned, never cool – I’ll rather die than marry, fool !”, - dives in hysterics the sixth.

“All women are silly, but I am – the queen ! I can go right and left in sin !”, - categorically assures the seven.

“The less we love the women shit, the more effortless we hit !”, - share his deadly wisdom the eight.

“You had betrayed, I saw token ! Keep silence now, my heart is broken !”, - chatters abstrusely the nine.

“No faith, no trust, no beg, my friend, but carry insults through heart’s land”, - calls for humility the tenth.

“Love is like a dream – yet dreams die. Just money help us reach the sky”, - is proud of his cost the eleventh.

“I love myself, and that is cool. To love the others? I’m not fool !”, - secretly admits the twelfth.

“Gods gave us love and paradise – stop lying now, just rise, rise, rise !”, - frankly raves the thirteenth.




Graves, graves, graves …

This is eternal cemetery.

Almost everyone comes here before taking his true place. He silently digs cold dead earth with his own hands, and so silently digs in himself.

The ones who came here died voluntary. And those risen from dead looks like humans no more.

No one knows if there are resurrected ones. But risen from dead often wander the streets of yet living cities. And it’s impossible to put the pain, tormenting them, into words.

There is a legend that those risen from dead can only be cured by the one who made them. But few resurrected ones know different truth.

They know the truth of the Alive City.

It does exist – and yet it doesn’t.

It always was – but they preferred to keep silence of its existence previously.

It first averts you as something intolerably bitter – but few ones have time to feel its true sweet.

It’s similar to an ancient mountain towering among lowlands, yet less and less are willing to climb to its top.

It grows outside and inside of you invisibly, lightening all corners of your soul. And that is why so many consider it as nonexistent.

Its fragrance seems stench from distance and illumination – as its fire.

Practically no one came back from it. And those few who did were humans no more.

So much has been told about it … yet this does not increase the number of its pilgrims.

It never died - and that is why it doesn’t know such thing as death.

It has been born long before the human.

Will he once remember it ?




29.09.2010




Five in a boat, not counting the cat


- The storm is approaching, - the captain of a vessel has noticed, - we may be not in time. We should better …

- We will be in time ! – the Mistress has unceremoniously interrupted. – If you have obeyed me three hundred and twenty seven strokes back, we wouldn’t even be caught by it. I have been telling you, dolt, to the south, to the south we had to row ! And what did you say – we’ll go north, we’ll go north ! Sail now to the east, oh my ingenious one ! And don’t even dare to break a boat !

- Oh, don’t start it, - the captain got confused. – Just imagine, how beautiful the north is ! The polar lights, colds, stopping the blood, wind’s howl, making one’s lose his hearing, penguins on ice floes, after all …

- Yeah, penguins is an interesting topic, - I would like to see at least one of them live, - the Middle brother has interrupted the conversation.

- And I desire to go to the West, - the Elder brother said suddenly. Life is a way better there and people are more cultural, don’t swear like some other.

- So you’ll swim there alone, in your next life. If you have sufficient brains. And now we’ll sail to the southeast ! – the Mistress was becoming even more angry.

- Heck, to the south or to the east, make up ye mind at last ! – it was obvious, that captain was already starting to feel the rage.

- At first to the south, and then to the east, wasn’t that clear enough ? Or do you need an instruction for each and every stroke ?

- Dunno need, - the captain has taken offence. - I’ll somehow manage it myself, move away !

And, having this said, he has flopped on vessel’s prow and started to fiercely beat water with oars, as if waves of salty moisture were capable to extinguish a fire, periodically inflaming his soul.

- And where are we sailing now ?! – the Mistress has exclaimed both unceremoniously and pathetically five minutes after the supervision over this nonsense. – There is a north over there ! You have not even turned a boat !

- If you are such a smarty one, take oars and row yourself ! – the captain bawled. - You cannot even appreciate the help !

- I don’t want such “help” even free of charge. You all are just useless, I have to do it all myself !

And with these words the Mistress has taken seat on a stern, and started to make elegant pirouettes on water with oars.

A stroke. And yet again. And several tens of strokes as well. Whooowwwhhh ! – and a wave, which has suddenly rolled on a vessel, washed away half of stock, which was located there, having not spared even banal food.

- What have you made, asshole ! – the Mistress cried out. – All our emergency rations were there, for evil day prepared !  The last gifts of my mother were there ! Not for you, for my children all that I’ve prepared, by grains collected ! What a clumsy one are you, indeed !

- As if I had not did it for children ! – the captain frowned. – And, yeah, if that’s so important for you, you must have fastened it better !

- So I did ! Attached everything, tied it all up ! Who might have known, that you will be able to wash it all away in a single flash !

- The luggage was washed away by a wave, - the Middle has had enough time to interrupt the skirmish. – A man cannot command waves.

- The storm is coming, - the Elder has noticed. – I can already see in on the horizon.

- Just look at what you have done ! – as though not hearing him, the Mistress continued to exclaim. - Has washed away our stock, woken the Younger.

- Yep, yep, - the Younger brother sniffed from a boat’s corner, still opening his eyes. – Has woken, woken ! Bad, nasty !

… and even managed to water our cat !

- Miaow ! – said the cat, who has just got out from under a seat and started to lick own wet wool  extensively. - Miaow ! – she has repeated once more and with a reproach in her cattish eyes stared at all the heroes of element’s triumph.

- You row in opposite directions, - the Elder has sarcastically noticed. - Are you planning to continue or going to stop right away ? The storm is already close.

- Storm, storm ! Mummy, mum ! Save, rescue ! – the Younger began to cry.

- Now, my little one, just a moment ! All these dolts have not even a slightest idea, that we must row to the south ! Only mum knows it all, can do it all, predicts it all ! She will help, she will rescue !

- Miaow ? – a stained cat has interrogatively stared at her.

- A storm, however, you haven’t foreseen, - the Elder hemmed. – Come on, let me replace you, - he told to the Mistress, - and unceremoniously took one oar. The Middle took the second.

- We will sail to the north tomorrow, three altogether, - the Elder stated, addressing the captain. – And now let’s row to the east all as one, - Middle has added as well. – Ok, let’s go !

A stroke. And the next one. And several more hundreds of them.

They have almost reached the coast – but the storm has caught them nevertheless.

It flanged the boat and began to whirl it, pouring with waves. It washed away another part of a luggage stock. It, finally, for the second time didn’t spare an unfortunate cat, who had already started to dry up on a wind. It struck captain’s face several times with its waves. It reached a stern with Elder and Middle brothers. It poured with water a screaming Younger one.

In short, it was rigid. But not omnipotent.

The storm has come to an end, and the coast has finally appeared. Just a two hundred meters. Just a leaking and dilapidated boat. Just a wet cat, rubbing about feet in a vain attempt to warm oneself.

- Retards ! – a Mistress has shouted short after coming to her senses.  - Broken a boat ! Washed away the luggage ! Watered the Younger one ! I have no more powers, monsters ! – and with these words she has seized Younger brother and together with him has jumped overboard, strenuously swimming to a coast in a southern direction.

Three remained heroes of the day (four, considering a wet cat as a passenger) with the last bit of strength finally sailed to a coast, taking out water, accumulating in a worn out boat, in a process.

- So, where are we going to travel now ? – The ex-captain interrogatively looked at them.

- To the West, - the Elder brother said confidently. – Storm warnings are usually announced there in advance.

- Well, and I then, probably, will travel East, for the sake of variety, - the Middle one decided.

- So, well, if things are that way and my leadership is no more necessary to everybody, I will go, perhaps, to the north, - the captain of the broken boat noticed enthusiastically. – Always dreamt of visiting the north at least once in my ex-captain’s life …




P.S. 

So, and how’s cat’s destiny turned out ? Living well, we guess.

Having jumped out in the last moment from her recent dwelling, which has broken on its way ashore, she has indifferently curved her back and, having caved in, has splashed from herself the rest of this inutile moisture, impregnated with salt of life, mewed few times encouragingly, and run, where the tail directs. Have granted herself to the new way of life.




02.11.2010




For the Patriarch!


Today I have woken up extraordinary early - the sun itself hasn’t had the time to rise on the east. I am awake for almost an hour, and still unable to comprehend what has interrupted my blissful dream. Something keeps moving somewhere inside my breast and disturbs me. It’s strange. Never before did I feel something similar. Some unworthy thoughts are pooling through my mind - probably, Satan himself is trying to tempt me. I shall expel these thoughts of heresy - in the name of our Patriarch!

In vague feelings I turn on the light and the video - for a morning prayer ceremony is going to start soon, and we, Divine children, will unanimously incline our heads in these solemn minutes, and with all our hearts will bless His Holiness - modest vicar of our divine Father on this sinful earth.

As always I take an over gilded cross-shaped device and accurately press a small button on it - and this wonderful object, a gift of the God himself, which our beloved Patriarch has named “video display”, comes to life. As far as I remember, several centuries ago such things were named “consoles” and so-called “TV” were analogs of these “video displays”. However, I am not totally assured in this. I wasn’t a diligent student in our school seminary - and we’ve been taught very little of our past anyway.

Little time is still left prior to the beginning of a morning prayer, which will be broadcasted through these video displays to each apartment - each shelter of every soul. I must now consume earth food in order to saturate my body - and all my powers will be put in a spirit further to be a modest servant in this imperfect world for the sake of goals of our Sacred Father, may His name forever glow in the heavens !

Since the time, when humble servants of our Patriarch invented some magnificent way to almost instantly create food from separate substances, granted by nature itself, - we know no such thing as starvation, for a food can be made almost from everything in this world of ours. Truly, only the Lord himself could grant our Patriarch such great power over the world, truly our Patriarch is his deputy on the Earth!

I have had the time to sate sinful body and have almost dived into pure thoughts of that magnificent kingdom of paradise where we, humble servants of our great Deputy, are being led, when video display suddenly made a familiar sound - that means that morning prayer is about to begin, and we, imperfect creations of our grand Father, will be granted yet another possibility to purify our souls from inner darkness. If we are going to be submissive and love our Patriarch, then this prayer will give us indescribable joy and peace - for that’s the way it ought to be.

The prayer was wonderful - as always, it was amazing. It’s such a joy - to stand, having submissively inclined one’s head and listening to spellbinding church’s chanting, - and to feel yourself as a particle of something so much greater, something eternal. It’s an incomparable joy - to overhear a voice of the Patriarch when he welcomes his children and blesses them for the new day in this world.

When a chant has come to an end, I felt myself in the seven heavens - and soul of mine was singing in delight. All those guilty thoughts with which Antichrist have been haunting me this morning, have gone. Such is the way of things - for a true light, granted by our Deputy, clears and purifies our souls - and no harm or heresy is granted way to the door of our spirits!

For now my task is to travel to a central church of our city - and by just works of divine servants about five hundred of these small houses of Divine have been built, - to present my new creation on a fair court of its head Holy Alex II. He’ll read my newly written book - and, if it’s approved by his holiness, he will grant his highest goodwill to printing agencies to multiply this text, so that Divine children can taste its aroma and become even stronger in the just belief in the God, and our omnipotent Patriarch.

I am leaving my house and inhaling a clear Divine air with delight. Humble servants of his holiness Patriarch were able to invent such travelling mechanisms, which left air in its protogenic cleanliness, emitting outside no so-called “gases” and working on a solar energy, granted us by our magnificent solar star. Ways of our Deputy are inscrutable, indeed!

I am moving in a direction to the mansion of God, and joy is overflowing me. I already foresee my meeting with his holiness Alex, I foresee his blissful smile, I foresee how my book will help our brothers in their way of mind and heart. This is truly a wonderful day!




* * *




Oh my God, where did those hellish thoughts come from, may the Patriarch exterminate them all?!

Something is going on in the soul of mine, something very strange and unusual, something unclear for me. This is practically the same feeling, which have grown in me two days ago … some sort of vague doubts in fidelity of my own life and life of my earth brothers … Is even a morning prayer no more capable to purify my soul of these fatal doubts?

This feeling was born inside me after an appointment with his holiness Alex II the other day after I have given him the manuscript of my future book, so that he could tell me his opinion as well as his blessing for its distribution.

To give his blessing … he hasn’t given it! He not only hasn’t given the blessing, he was greatly angered and malicious … his highness was enraged … that’s impossible! That’s unimaginable! How, how can it be possible that such a great individuality was capable to fall from grace to the anger?! I didn’t trust own ears when he has begun his speech!

- Whether is it known to you, my son Peter, that by your … h-r-r-r-m-m-m … book … you ruin all precepts, given by our great Deputy?! - voice of his holiness was cold as a steel, some spiteful notes were breaking through.

- Father, how do I break his precepts? - I questioned.

- How? You dare ask me how you ruin his precepts? I’ll tell you, how! In that book of yours you mention that God himself was the maker of this world of ours, and you assert that our Patriarch is His humble servant. Our great deputy is not his “humble servant” - our Deputy is His son, the very incarnation of our Father in this world! He is the God, His embodiment! Whether it was not taught to you all in your church school, I wonder? Did you not learn that the word of our Patriarch is like the word of God himself, expressed through our Deputy, and thus it shall be the law for all divine children?!

- Your holiness, but how is that possible for a heavenly son to stand above his heavenly father? - I asked.

- To stand over his father? My son … - and his holiness choked - the father of ours is the Patriarch! He’s our father and the savior of souls of this world!

- But we’ve been told … - I tried to speak.

- You’ve been told? Tell me, my son, who spoke you all that things?

I mentioned mentor’s name of our spiritual school.

- I thank you, my son, you have performed a great service to us right now in a task of eradication of all … heresy.

I shuddered when he pronounced a word “heresy”. Heresy is a biggest crime, heresy deprives one of his inborn right to pass through a divine gate of paradise - so all holy churchmen told me … only my mentor spoke nothing on that subject. Why is he guilty in heresy, why?! How did he misbehave and broke divine will? And I asked his highness this question.

- He committed a crime by seducing divine children from their holy way, and is subject to be punished for this sin. We’ll carry out all necessary measures, - and his holiness made a sign for me to become silent and ask no further questions. And, having no power not to obey, I became silent … and that vague doubt started scraping in my soul once again.

Meanwhile his highness continued speaking.

Furthermore you state that for all sins made a divine son will be judged by his heavenly Father during a Sacred Court and “on their deeds they will be given”. Truly, “on their deeds they will be given”, but whether it’s known to you that our omnipotent Patriarch as an embodiment of the will of our divine Father was granted the right to either punish or grant a pardon to his sinful children in his endless favor and mercy in this world already?!

And then you keep writing: “… for only our unearthly Lord has a power over both real and unreal, and only His court is just and eternal …”. The court on the earth is conducted by our Patriarch! We, his humble servants, can only submissively carry out his will, which is also a will of our divine Father, having no right to ask useless questions on whether his judgment is just or unjust - for the judgment of our Deputy is eternally just and honorable, for he is the very embodiment of a God! Whether the cases are known to you … my son, - and his holiness choked once more, - when our great Deputy performed unjust judgments over his faithful children and servants?

- No, father.

- Right you are, my son. For his judgment is just and just eternally - forever it was, forever it will be, may his name shine in the heavens!

This very instant of time a blissful smile appeared on the face of his highness as if he has just seen the Second Coming of the Savior along with a retinue of divine angels. However, when he has looked up at me once again, his smile disappeared in a single instance.

- Yet this doesn’t forgive your … failures … my son, - and his holiness choked a third time.

- You speak: “… for there is only one great force in the world of ours and only one great treasure - and this is a love, for it’s a manifestation of our divine Father in our world …” - that’s a lie! Our power - is in our belief in the Patriarch! What other power do you desire except for it? Only belief in the Patriarch moves us forward and saves us, only such a belief aids us on a life’s journey!

“Your belief is a suppressed doubt”, - words came into my mind that instant of time, yet I constantly rejected these fatal thought away. His highness was now looking at me almost with anger, and his voice became absolutely cold.

- But not only do you constantly undermine belief in our most gracious Patriarch, you still try to make his children turn from a true path! You speak: “… and all imaginable customs, rituals and ceremonies would vanish, as if they never existed before … and men would pray in heart and not by heart - and an expression of this aspiration would be the love …”. How can all sacred rituals disappear in an instant, if they are prescribed to us by the holy Patriarch himself as a mean to become addicted to his eternal good fortune?! - his holiness almost shouted. That’s unbelievable, that’s unthinkable! That’s a true heresy, my son! And you keep writing as if it’s not enough! You undermine their trust in us, humble servants of our Father! Just think again of what you are saying … “… and all things of this world disappear and be gone, and will matter no more for those who enter the kingdom of the Father … and never were that way”.

You undermine their trust in us, humblest attendants of our father! Just rethink of what you are writing in that book of yours … “… and things of this world will disappear and vanish, and never be important any longer for the one entering the Divine Realm … and never did matter, for temporarily live in this world is, and as we enter it without a thing, except for the flame of our hearts, thus we do leave it with nothing except for the fire mentioned. And therefore all worshipping and rituals and everything used for it, and all imaginable earth cults matter no more …” It’s unimaginable! All those sacred rituals which we maintain are the greatest gifts, prescribed to us, with which we render aid to our faithful followers! We purify their souls, we, as the servants of the Father, redeem their sins, we rescue them from the clutches of the Abyss! How dare one not to acknowledge and recognize that, how can we reject a response gratitude of our brothers, granted to us by them in their restrained generosity?!

But you, you dare saying - “… for only the love’s fire of the heart can redeem the sin, and no rituals, no artifacts, no other terrestrial things … for they are transient, yet only the flame of one’s spirit and heart may burn forever …” - that’s a true misunderstanding of the way of things! Our Father granted us the right to atone for sins of our children that come to us, guided by their humility - and we serve a great purpose by releasing them from this burden at once, but you … you! … - his highness enraged himself so greatly that was almost choking - you dishonor all our kind, all our services, all our achievements! And for the last part - “… for our Father lives not outside, but inside each of us first and foremost … and He is the God, and He is the love…”. And He is - the Patriarch! And He is - outside, for only He is holy, and we are all guilty, and the God has never been living inside us! - and only He by the favor of His can rescue souls of ours, and we ourselves are incapable of doing such a thing!” - his holiness stood up and has been angrily screaming.

I still couldn’t recover from surprise, embarrassment, confusion … during that time that aforementioned doubt started overcoming me once again.

- I will overlook up to the end your manuscript … my son - and inform you of my decision in ten days. But don’t even dare to hope that I am going to give you a chance to publish it without some essential … modification … and, possibly, to publish at all. Besides, we will perform the inquiry with your … hm …mentor, as well as with you, - and he coldly stared at me. And for now go in peace,  my son, - his highness regained self-control. - Walk in peace.

In confusion and doubt I left the temple. This was truly a day of sorrows.

Leaving the church I noticed how one of my brothers, who have just left the church, was approached by khanji - so we named the enslaved men-derelicts, who have been growing in numbers ever since our Holy Empire began a war two years ago. We treated them with great … favor … some of them have been granted a right to live in cities, yet they certainly have been living hard - however this subject was never brought up in the speeches of our Patriarch. 

This particular khanji approached my brother-in-spirit and started asking him about something, apparently. And then my blissfully smiling brother without a second thought and hesitation kicked him with foot so strongly that khanji has been thrown aside and head over heels having swept on ladders …

I have been watching all this scene while my flynear - one the transportation vehicles, invented by confidants of our Deputy, working on the energy of a solar start, - was carrying me away from the spot. And I could no nothing to help the khanji …

A pain, immense and incredible stirred up in my soul that moment, - a sympathy to this little brother, being thrown aside, rejected, kicked off! - filled my heart. That very moment gave a birth to further painful and intolerable doubts inside me.




* * *




I had ten days before the new meeting with his holiness Alex II regarding my manuscript - and had no desire to waste them in vain. A pain, enormous, indescribable pain - it tore and crumbled my heart. I didn’t understand - had no ability to! - how is that imaginable for my brothers to be so … so … cruel - how? why? what for?

All the grace has gone to free the road for the pain. And after the pain doubts followed.

I have heard earlier about that Holy War, that great war, that just crusade. Still remembered how the Patriarch addressed us all … how loftily did he speak about those under-humans with no faith in the Father that we were fighting with … of those murderers … of those sinners. He said that by killing their bodies we save their souls … I trusted his words that time - I cannot deny the faith in my Patriarch ! - but now … after the event with that khanji - I started to doubt. Hour after an hour, day by day that cursed doubt has been growing - I could sleep no more, I rushed in nightmares during sleepless nights. I oversaw hundreds of those poor khanji - and legions of holy brothers dressed in white robes, slaughtering them with a single blow of maces, shouting “in the name of the Patriarch!”, instantly making a cross sign - and marching on further, further, further …

And then I woke up, having no more powers to behold that massacre. And then I reflected.

Ten days after I once again came before the eyes of his holiness - and there was not a slightest sign of joy, shining in my eyes. As well as in his.

- We found your … teacher … my son - and his highness choked a thousand time. - And studied your manuscript up to the end. And now hear our decision! - and he solemnly raised a hand. - For the spreading of false gossips, for attempts to make our beloved children go astray from the true path and into the bosom of Antichrist, - a man named Chris is sentenced for imprisonment into the catacombs of the Cathedral of the Patriarch forever, up to that day when Antichrist will come for him to take his dark soul! The sentence is signed by the Highest Patriarch himself and is not subject for appeal!

I was stupefied. Chris, my teacher who has taught me so much in that spiritual school - he’s sentenced to imprisonment. Never, never, never in my entire life did I hear of even a single case of similar action … and now … before my very eyes … how is that even possible?!

- Escort the sinner! - the voice of his highness rang out.

And then they - several brawny men in white cassocks - pushed him outside. I didn’t recognize him - I would most certainly never recognize him should we meet in different circumstances - he looked like the former Chris I knew since childhood no more. He awfully grown old and hardly dragged his feet, so four assistants had to constantly jog and push him - there was a blood visible on his face. “Tortures?”, - a thought flashed in my mind.

- Teacher, Chris! - I cried out loudly, trying to overcome the noise of the strengthening wind.

He turned back. A weak smile appeared on his dried up lips.

- Peter, my sonny, is that you? They caught you too, yes? Forgive me, sonny … please forgive me … I should foresee that that will once happen.

- Teacher, but why?! Why everything has come to this at last? Did they … have they been lying to us all that time?!

It was still visible that Chris smiled once more with his not obeying lips.

- And here and now, my sonny, you have awakened at last, - he muttered, - and during that same instant a roar of the gushed wind silenced all other sounds.

I saw, how four men dragged my mentor somewhere in the direction of a building’s corner - I tried to rush for aid, only to have been instantly seized by same three men, dressed in white cassocks.

- Stop twitching, oh brother, - smiled one of them.

When several seconds after his holiness appeared before my eyes once again - I was surprised no longer.

- And as for you, my son … we must perform the procedure of … cleaning, so that your brain can become sacred and holy once more and not a single demon even had the chance to crept into it! - and he smiled. - Seize him! In the name of the Patriarch!

My entire world ruined in a single flash of time. Everything I trusted, all that I hoped for - everything became nothing. All was in vain. And when my … brothers … seized me - I resisted no more. That was no longer necessary.

“May the Divine will guide me forevermore”, - a thought came an instant before a weighty wooden club of one of white brothers landed on my head …




25.06.2011




Great March


They called us madmen at first. Either too brave or too naive to dare to fulfill what we have once conceived. Too big dreamers, probably. Cranky adventurers, tired of sitting in their cozy ferro-concrete stone jungles. They laughed to us in our backs when we have started leaving our new old babylons, these huge inhuman anthills, which have been oppressing our proud spirit within centuries. They sent damnations to those leaving, in depths of their hearts fearing to remain left alone forever. In the first days of the Great March they tried to make every possible difficulty and create all imaginable obstacles for the marching ones. Their hatred and rage were great. But we were not broken.

Man after a man, family behind a family, city next to a city, wave following a wave, our Great March has begun. In all four directions of the world people were travelling, leaving away places of their recent dwelling. We were abandoning our stone prisons – inhuman piles of enormous ugly monsters made of stone and glass, aspiring, apparently, to eclipse the sun itself. Without hesitation or regret we were leaving behind us dark silhouettes of infinite robotized factories, which have been poisoning the earth, water and air for many years and turned people into insignificant resemblance of machines, spiritually destroying them, sucking away their strength of mind and burning will for own transformation in furnace of monotony and commonness. We left there, in our bitter past, practically all we once had – everything that was enthralling our spirit, taking away invaluable time of our lives, forcing us to move inside a horrifying wheel of incessant production and consumption. Now we were travelling with light baggage, having taken with us only the most necessary for upcoming new construction. And much wasn’t required at all.

Left behind were inhabited quarters, stuck round the city almost like flies around honey, risen into the sky and awaiting their inevitable destruction skyscrapers of the ones-in-power, smoking by a smog factories, half-empty prisons, dilapidated churches. Everything that was the essence of the old man. Left behind were high city walls, enclosed with iron wire, black-red sky together with a caustic, suffocating air of “the only possible freedom of living”. All of these were now disappearing behind us slowly, unstoppably and forever. All of this was given to the will of the forces of nature – ones so much wiser than us, people. Processions were going and going, and it seemed that there was no end to them. But they once ended as well. No new ones wishing to change themselves remained. And then elements absorbed those who have decided to stay idle.

And those people, who have marched into their last new campaign, dispersed across the most remote corners of their motherland. Fast changing climate of their world allowed them to travel to lots of previously uninhabited areas and lands. And they started colonizing these new territories, being evenly settled on them. They were those first daredevils, or madmen, - whatever the word you like most, - who have begun the great new building. Who have made possibly, apparently, the impossible – didn’t subordinate to themselves, but united with the nature instead in a great harmony and beauty. Their pioneer settlements became prototypes of new movement of people which have once erased all borders of the states.

It was hard at first. Too habitual and blood poisoning were techniques of old construction, too much ridiculous stereotypes and prejudices tormented their consciousness, preventing it to fully open itself. Too mechanistic have already become some of them, - verified, lined, marked, sorted and packed. But despite all barriers and obstacles lying before them, they have managed to achieve almost the impossible – and their own children helped them with this transformation. Truly live, with mobile and open reason, rich and figurative imagination, they have shown their parents the most unexpected ways, dizziest designs, most natural forms. And work was boiling. Everything that contradicted the new opened by them facts of life was removed, everything that ennobled their spirit was glorified. And after that it was only a question of time. Truly immense have the Great Construction become, made after the Great March. And there was not a single live soul left in all around the world which haven’t taken part in it.

Life on the planet Earth was changing – so promptly and fast, as if being made in an instant between usual click of fingers. New deed demanded new men – and they weren’t slow to be on call. But all of this, however, was a completely new story …

18.09.2012




In the prison for a quarter of century


He opened his eyes. Both sight and hearing were coming back to normal, very-very slowly - but were returning. For many days he has still been recovering …

A push of hand - a sharp pain in the broken knuckle - and he has risen. He is alive and he will sustain - despite of everything.

Despite dregs in eyes and broken knuckle, acknowledging itself with a pain during each movement of hand. Despite hateful shouts and most severe abuse, flowing around. Despite the threats from his “neighbors”, which they intended to put in action if he doesn’t share his part of that skilly that was brought to them - so that they haven’t starved to death. Despite the methodical and giving a ring on an iron floor footsteps of the approaching guard. Despite the sun which he haven’t seen for such a long time … only the weak light beam of which he had a chance to notice in the mornings - a light, hardly passing through strong iron plates, sealing windows in this stronghold of grief. In this stronghold of sorrow … and sometimes, only sometimes - repentances.

“Chumbrik, fuck you! We’ll cut you on giblets! Do you hear me, bastard?! You’ll lick our heels, bough!” A shout came somewhere from a distant chamber and sank in the silence.

Resisting ones weren’t welcomed there, as well as loving ones. That’s why similar people were almost absent in these cells. Except for local authorities - and those who could prove with own blood that they are worthy of respect. For only the force did worth something here.

A whole year was required for him to prove own strength. To prove in fights without rules, ones, “accidentally” overlooked by that supervisor that was slowly coming through a corridor, rattling with chamber keys. Or, to be more precise, these battles were completely ignored by prison guard. One week ago there was his last fight - and after that he was finally left alone. He has proven own force for this year time and again - proven much more during this time span. And finally were receded - they have withdrawn from him like from an insuperable and indestructible stronghold.

“Dinner!” - a loud peal of a voice filled a premise.

Now they will be fetched skilly bowls - gray-greenish liquid with disgusting taste. However, a piece of bread was applied to this liquid, and that was already fine.

This should suffice for approximately five-six hours. And then once again something similar will be brought to them - to that they don’t die from hunger. And so it goes on for a day, a month, a year … Nineteen years - nineteen long years he should remain here. Nineteen twentieth of his term.

Here comes the inspector. Now a food would be brought - he will sate himself with this pity piece of bread and a bowl of liquid stinking of slops and feel easier.

His organism will take many days to heal its wounds … It will take nineteen years for him until a day of freedom finally comes.

Here comes a meal. A bowl was pushed to him through a cut out crack in the bottom of a chamber’s door.

For some reason the inspector continued standing, thought it was already the time for him to go to new chambers. One second, two, three … five …

“Prisoner Skalov, your wife has come to visit you. We will guide you to a meeting room”.

Simple human words, which have lifted his spirit on pleasure tops. It was such an immense joy for him now - to once again meet a close person in this house of loneliness, loneliness among hundreds and hundreds of people … His prison cell was slowly opened - the guard immediately pressed him against the wall and started quickly putting on handcuffs. He didn’t resist.

“Do your job, guys. It’s your work. Play your part”, - thoughts have flown in his head, remaining unexpressed. And what for? - prisoners aren’t talked to - they are given orders and are compelled to their execution. Almost like in the army, yet worse - for disobedience - a bitting to semideath follows. Or to the death - that’s unimportant. A phrase in official report will state - “has committed suicide” - in a chamber without even a single sharp object. It was possible to commit suicide there only having broken one’s head against the wall …

He was moving through a corridor, led by prison guards, and his soul was singing in joy. A joy for the first time for many-many days. For how truly long he hasn’t felt that sensation …

- Luydochka, my beloved! Dear one, how did I miss you!

- Pasha, dear! Thanks God, you are still alive! What’s wrong with you? Have you battled again? Oh, fighter, when you will stop these fights at last?! They are going to kill you one day!

- I cannot do that, Luyda, I cannot. I had no right to refuse a fight. You know … I wouldn’t survive that way …

- Pasha, dear, I beg of you - remain alive. Dear, beloved … if they kill you, Pasha, I wouldn’t survive that. Dear, nice, don’t leave me alone, keep yourself live - I beg you! I beg! I love you, Pasha!”

She nestled face to a plastic bulletproof fence that divided them, and started crying. His beloved woman. His significant other …

She was crying and her tears slowly did flow by a glass wall, leaving a pure transparent trace. He nestled his own face to a transparent wall too and was looking at her. A security guard, observing their meeting, has moved forward at first - according to the rules talking ones should keep the distance of at least two meters from a dividing wall - but then suddenly gaging somehow and slowly inclined a head downwards. Some people remained men even here.

And then they kissed transparent plastic, imaging as if they were kissing each other. Scattered hands and touched a transparent window, trying to embrace each other. They were kissing and embracing each other - and couldn’t do that. Have been divided with a wall from now on - divided with impenetrable wall for a long period of twenty years from that very familiar day …

- Do you remember that day, Pavel? I still cannot forgive myself for it - for you. Unable to forgive myself for your destiny …

- Stop it, Luyda. I have chosen that way myself, and whether I could choose differently? I have made that choice myself - and I am ready to bear a full responsibility for that. I have killed a man. I am guilty - and should be punished.

Indeed, they both remembered that day, remembered very clearly, each and every detail - in spite of the fact that more than a year has already passed since that moment. And nineteen more should pass before it will be possible to expel it definitively and forget - forget forever. Like a horror, a dream, a delusion.

Which, unfortunately, wasn’t a delusion at all …

Images slowly recurred in memory. That memorable day which have given a start to his new life here - a life that has begun after a short judicial proceedings and sentence.

Like bright flashes are these images. Sparkling and fading away …

They were returning back home from a holiday by foot … These guys jumped out of nowhere. There were two of them. One was bearing a knife in hand, the second one possessed a pistol.

“Hey, you, stand still! Drop purses on the ground, quickly! Rings, earrings, throw everything! Quickly, I’m telling ya, if you dunno want to get a bullet in ye head!” - a guy armed with a pistol cried out, having set it on them. A second one run up from behind and seized his wife, putting a knife to her throat. The one with a pistol was probably bluffing, but the second one definitely did not. “The young lass doesn’t look bad! I’ll have to fuck her a bit later. Don’t twitch ye, darling! It won’t take long, hah …”

A scared children’s shout of his wife, with a storming roar rushing into his ears …

He hesitated no longer. A blood of the soldier, who have survived the Afghani war, was boiling in him … he ceased to hear any longer … he ceased to feel the surroundings. Only the sensation, that strange sensation of the tested and survived fighter, allowing one to distinguish the incoming danger, - only it has become his guide in these instants of time …

Like bright flashes are these instants …

A kick - a pistol, pointing to him, flies off aside. Another blow - and a man holding a gun falls down and bent on the ground.

A short amazement on the face of the second guy, who has already started undressing his wife and put aside his knife from her throat for a while. Here the knife slowly moves back to her throat again …

Jump. A hand holding a knife, intercepted in the air. All three fall to the ground.

“Biiiiiitttttccccchhhhh!” - a shout, picked up by air.

A flashing iron once more - the guy managed somehow to get away a second knife. His hand, moved for interception of a strike … Too late.

A blow. Desperate shout of his wife, full of agony and pain.

“N o o o !!” - his shout of despair.

A blow. A blow. The guy screams from pain, one of his knifes flows off from hands. A struggle. Fighting on the ground. They have swept away, having seized each other.

His wife remained lying motionlessly …

Ten seconds, twenty. The guy was trying to stick his knife into him - their hands were struggling for life …

A blow. Attacking one finally managed to reach him with the edge of knife. He twisted from pain, but hasn’t ceased fighting …

Thirty seconds …

Drops of blood, exuding from his wound and generously watering the ground … Capture. Procollar of a hand holding a weapon - he wanted to beat a knife off from enemy’s hands. Blade was slowly turning towards lying below him attacker - now it will become possible to take the hand away and beat out a knife from opponent’s hands … without weapon the attacker ceases to be a fighter. Let them escape - he is not even going to pursue them …

But the guy suddenly screamed something and started turning sideways, trying to dump him from himself.

A rattle. Heart-rending agonal rattle. Turned edge was stuck in the robber’s breast, when he started turning over.

“Bas … tard”, - almost silent words, which he has heard. And then silence has reigned.

Only a guy, recently holding a pistol, was still slowly creeping, and the one with knifes was lying still … But he didn’t want to kill any of the two - had totally no desire … Only to disarm …

He picked up a pistol and run up to his wife. Has kneeled.

Breathing … that means that she’s alive. Then he looked on a wound - a wound was on the right side under the rib - a blood was slowly pouring from it. Good. Not deadly. She has to survive, she must!

Then he picked her up, propped up on himself and slowly started going forward, bearing her. He has to pass quite a little. To leave this lane and enter a populous street, and there he’ll be aided - he must be! - by others. No, he matters not! It’s she who must survive. And he will manage it somehow - he has overcome even greater wounds!

And the pistol must be destroyed as well …

Picture changed. Now he was standing in the court, listening to own sentence - a sentence for murder.

He is a murderer. Even protecting himself and his beloved - he’s still a murderer. Even carrying a necessary self-defense - he has killed a man. But according to a court’s decision no self-defense has ever taken place.

A second survived attacker has informed law enforcement department of the accident. Naturally - the way he wanted it to look like - there were no witnesses for a fight. And even words of his wife and her wound weren’t proof enough - she was unconscious according to her own words and didn’t see a final part of fight. And considering the wound … the wound can made by her husband as well, instead of the attacker … especially if his fingerprints left on the knife has to be taken into account.

So did the court conclude - and has made its decision. Imprisonment for a long term of twenty years … For such a long period, for which he has to remain here. In this stronghold of grief … and sometimes - only sometimes - repentances …

Images have gone out. He was standing close to his wife once again, and she was still crying. And thus he calmed her. Assured, that everything will finally turn out fine, that this nightmare will end soon and he once again will meet her - his beloved - this time being free.

Then he smiled - didn’t want her to see him despaired. And had no wish to despair himself. They continued talking for quite a while - until security guard hasn’t demanded a termination of their conversation. Then they were separated until a next meeting. She will once again come to him as soon as she’s allowed to - as soon as a minimal time span between visiting will pass … approximately in two months.

She will come once again - his second half, his beloved, his personal sun.

And he will come as well into her world, after these longest twenty years. He will come when a wall, separating them, will turn to ashes. And nothing forevermore will divide them! This is worthy of his return! A world behind this fence is worthy of entering into it once again. And he will return back to start a new life - in bright and solar - new world.

After almost quarter of a century he will embrace this solar world and smile. And rejoice his living.




16.02.2012




Legend of Divine Island


- There is a legend, - the Wiseman smiled, - of the Divine Island, inhabited by singing Angels, where, seemingly, even the time ceases its movement. We transfer it to our warriors from one generation to another, and each and every year several brave ones stand out from the crowd, willing to find this true miracle.

- Have anyone of them achieved it yet? - the young man questioned.

- We don’t know it for certain. Probably, many of them were lost in a journey to the Bridge. Possibly, even more decided not to ascend it and turned back, but, being tormented by feelings of shame and fear, decided to never return back home, having found themselves a haven in foreign lands. Perhaps, someone at last has managed to pass on the Bridge and reach the Island, but whether will they decide to come back to our usual world, if they have once tasted that mysterious heavenly beauty? And, besides all other things, the very living on that Island should have transformed them so much that lots of people would certainly not be able to recognize them, renewed, even if they returned to our habitual home.

- And what is that wondrous Bridge that you have mentioned? - curiosity and genuine interest were shining in the eyes of the young warrior.

- Would you like to hear the legend of the Divine Island? - smiled the Wiseman.

- Yes! - the young man ardently answered him.

- Well, then listen and remember it well!

* * *

- This Island is not marked on any of earth maps, yet it still exists. Many say that it’s too majestic for the foot of mere mortal to step on its surface … others do argue that only those who have passed mysterious trials are given this unique chance and joy. Probably, someone would compare this island to an earthly paradise and would surely be mistaken, for his ideas of paradise are too superficial and ambiguous. 

- And where is this Island located, in what overseas lands?

- It’s far and still close to you at the same time. And the first thing required for each of the warriors marching in a journey, is the Intuition.

- And what in fact is that Intuition, and how can one find it inside himself?

- The voice of Intuition can only be heard when mind of yours becomes silent and heart of yours starts speaking. The first steps are always made with Intuition, therefore those who have chosen a wrong direction initially, may never find the Island, even if they will have been traveling through many foreign lands throughout their entire life.

- But are those still able to once hear the voice of their Intuition, and curtail to the right path?

- Certainly, if they will manage to suppress inner whispers of own Arrogance.

- And what happens with those who once choses the right way?

- In the beginning of their journey to the Island they have to pass through the Wood of Life Difficulties.

- And what is that - the Wood of Life Difficulties?

- It’s a mystical forest full of growing trees, which people have agreed to call among themselves no other way than Problems.

- And why did you call this wood mystical?

- The fact is that every traveler sees this wood its own way. Someone cannot distinguish among never-ending stream of trees the wood itself, while another practically doesn’t see any trees at all. This wood is live, it possesses its own reason and behavior, and is capable of changing and transformation of itself according to each wanderer in compliance with his World-Outlook. That’s why for some it seems as dark and gloomy, with a set of various clinging foot snags, fenny bogs, burdock and nettle thickets, while for the rest it becomes a bright and sunny wood with joyfully-rustling trees, ever-singing birds and juicy berries, growing here and there under their feet.

- And why one has to overcome this wood on his journey to the Bridge at all? Cannot we simply bypass it somehow?

- One has to pass through this entire wood so that he can accumulate enough Wisdom, without which it will be extremely difficult to journey to the end.

- And what is awaiting us further, after the wood? Probably the very Bridge to the Island itself?

- Oh, certainly not! - the Wiseman smiled good-naturally. - Just behind the wood the River of Time keeps flowing.

- What a strange name for the river! And who have decided to call some usual river so pathetically?

- Oh, if only it was some common river! But no, it’s even more surprising than the Wood of Life Difficulties itself.

- Most probably, it’s very wide and filled to the bottom with some sort of predatory fish like piranhas? - the young man cheerfully burst out laughing. - Nevertheless, it’s probably not too difficult to cross it by swimming.

- No sort of predatory fish is ever present there, - the Wiseman unexpectedly replied firmly. - To be bitten for feet by some pity piranhas - it’s such an insignificant trial! It’s much more uneasy to feel the Link of Times under own feet and pass the river, leaning on it.

- But what’s that - the Link of Times?

- The rope bridge, connecting two sides of the river, is called that way. This bridge is very, very, extremely ancient and old, for it has existed there since the most ancient eras, connecting the times. Waves of time of that river are lapping under it, sprinkling it with myriads of water drops and consequently during all the time of its existence the bridge has become extremely slippery. Inexperienced and self-assured traveler can easily slip on its boards and fall down to the river.

- But is that not possible to get out of river back on the coast and start everything anew? - the young man was surprised.

- Alas, but as soon as the man gets caught into the raging whirlpool of that river, the time starts flowing for him so quickly and uncontrollably, that, when he will finally manage to swim to the coast, he can have already become elderly aged man, and thus will possess neither the forces, nor time or desire to move through the river any further.

- But how is it possible not to stumble on that bridge through the River of Times? How can I truly feel the bridge under my feet?

- The feel underfoot the link of times means to understand that behind the last instant there will be a following, and behind the current there was previous one. We were forgetting the previous instant and never knew the following, but that doesn’t mean that there was no previous, and the following would never come true. To understand that means to feel the link of times, and, feeling it, not to slip. To understand the rapidity of time and the value of each given to us instant means to cross the bridge over the River of Times.

- All that is so uneasy! - the young warrior sighed. - Well, and what is awaiting us after the River of Times? Now it will probably be that main Bridge at long last?

- No, before reaching the Bridge on the Island, one still has to travel through the entire Desert of Loneliness.

- Sounds very terrifying! - exclaimed the young man.

- In the Desert of Loneliness each man remains alone with himself. In the Desert of Loneliness he is being tormented by his own demons, over whom he still haven’t totally prevailed in course of own life. Demons of Fear, Doubt and Grief are being encountered there more often than others. It seems to the traveler that he is left alone and abandoned to the mercy of fate, though it’s his fate itself that leads him through this scorching desert. Demons are constantly tormenting him, trying to make him fall in despair and curtail from own path, for they do clearly know how very close is the final goal of the traveler. The sun of reason do constantly burn down his skin, poisonous scorpions and snakes of evil thoughts endlessly crawl under his feet. There is a lonely Oasis of Hope in that desert, yet one can reach it only by the end of the day, when your forces are practically extinguished, yet there is a faith in a miracle living deep inside your soul. Those who have reached the Oasis are granted the good fortune of Strength of Spirit, which is so greatly required for the ascension on the Bridge. From the Oasis to the Bridge there lies two more days of travelling through the desert. 

- But how must the traveler move under the scorching sun for two whole new days? This is a pure suicide mission! - the young man cried out.

- By noon of the third day the Angel from the Divine Island comes to a half-dead traveler. He covers him from burning beams with his snow-white wings, helping to restore his forces.

- And how did you manage to learn all that? - the young man was feeling himself uneasy. - After all you must have never seen even a single Angel in your entire life! - he exhaled.

- So says the legend, - the Wiseman smiled. - And besides all that, there are still few ones living in our world, who have once met Them face to face one way or another. 

- And what occurs then?

- And then the desert once comes to an end, and the man comes to the Bridge.

- That very one, leading to the Island?

- Yes, that very one!  It’s said that the Divine Island lies in the middle of Ocean of Life and is surrounded with high rocks, hiding what lies inside them from eyes of strangers. The only way for those daring to get on the Island is to pass on the Bridge alone. The Bridge gradually rises up, ascending higher and higher from the rocky foothills banding the desert directly to the center of the Island. It’ said that there is a cave in the rocks through which it’s possible to enter the valley in the center of the Island, - but one can reach the cave only by passing the Bridge.

- Well, if the traveler managed to reach the Bridge at last, then it would not be difficult at all to overcome the rest of his path! - the young man sighted cheerfully.

- Oh! - the Wiseman answered with irony, - if only it was that way! The truth in fact is that all the previous trials were only the preparation for the last step. The entrance to the Bridge is being guarded - protected by a huge and terrifying many-headed and almost invincible hydra. This hydra possess many thousands of heads, breathing poisons of envy, sulfur of contempt, fire of irritation, squealing and abusing the warrior in thousands and thousands of voices in many ways. It’s almost immortal, because as soon as you have overcome in verbal duel one of her heads, another one immediately grows on its place, being even more awful and terrible than the former one. So, envy transforms itself into cruelty, contempt becomes hatred, and irritation turns into anger, and from the endless abuse your very ears can wither easily.

 - What is the name of that monster?! - the young man exclaimed in horror.

- It’s called no less than Public Opinion, - replied the Wiseman. - After all, if one desires to reach his most cherished and pure dream, he must once overcome the most rough and condemning Public Opinion. The truth is in fact that despite almost full invulnerability of this monster, the traveler can nevertheless ascend the Bridge, because this monster with his entire external dreadfulness isn’t capable to cause any harm until he is engaged into the fight by the will of the traveler, who have forgotten the true purpose of his journey.

- But how is that possible to evade this monster? - the young man was surprised.

- One must simply … pay no attention to it! - the Wiseman burst out laughing. - This monster is being fed by the very surpluses of human attention, and by such emanations he finds his next victims. Those who desire too much attention, risk to become too dead sometimes.

- Wow! - the young man exclaimed, being struck by what he has just heard. - How simple and difficult at the same time is all that!

- Those who managed to pay no attention to abuse and rage of those aspiring to lead them away from their cherished dream, pass by a monster and step on the Bridge, starting to rise by Steps of the Way.

- And what do these Steps look like?

- The legend says that they are unique for each and every traveler. They can vary in quantity and distance between each of them. Each step is like an unforgettable instant of time, a moment stretched to infinity in eternity. Each step is one of the most important lessons given to the one on his Way, what he is truly lacking and for what he has once started his journey. It’s sort of fixing of what has been learned previously.

- And then what?

- And then the traveler sees under his feet the storming ocean and steps, leading him afar, and the sun, shining on him. It happens from time to time that the distance between the steps becomes too long, so it’s impossible to neither pass, nor jump over them in a usual way to keep moving.

- But how is that even possible to overcome such a distance then?

- And for this task there must be a Faith living inside you. Only having the Faith can you step into the air between the steps and not to fall down to the ocean, raging far below. Arguments of mind never help here, common knowledge becomes useless, and no usual earth skills or abilities are of any aid either. Walking on the Bridge, you are being transferred into a totally another dimension, and is being changed with each and every step on it, returning back to your true nature. This is your true awakening.

- Well, and then?

- And then you pass through the Cave of Resurrection, cut down in rocks, stepping on the land of the Divine Island. You can call it as the Island of Pure Dream, if you desire. I dare not to describe this Island even with the words of legend, for so it’s surprising and magnificent!

- Whoooh, what a journey! - exclaimed the young man as soon as the Wiseman has finally gone silent, cheerfully and with love in his eyes looking at his so attentive and grateful listener.

- And what will happen with those who have finally managed to reach the Divine Island? What new unforgettable adventures and encounters are waiting for them ahead?

- And this is, oh my attentive friend, - and Wiseman happily patted the young man’s shoulder, - will be a whole another story!




11.07.2012




Life is ahead


“Hey, you, there!”, - a shout came from behind.

A little boy of twelve or thirteen years - almost teenager - darted off and ran away. They, no doubt, will chase him - will chase a thief … He had to come off - by all means possible. A pair of quarters - and a saving entrance there … a saving cellar, where he can lie down and hide - to hide until his organism will not demand a share - a share of food and … something that aided him to pass away these painful days of loneliness. His life without a roof over a head, with no parents, almost with nothing - a life all way along with himself and with what he is going to buy for the stolen money. He opened stolen bag on a move … a wallet … one … two … three coupons … two thousands of roubles! These people were certainly going to purchase something today. What a hellish disappointment - they won’t … but he most definitely will!

He turned on a run and almost screamed from a fright. The man was catching up with him - a distance between them was reducing slowly, but steadily. He in his thirteen years was no match for a healthy adult.

Two quarters, just two quarters and he is saved! He sharply jumped into lateral pass between houses. He has to foul the trail - then he can escape … then he must escape. Forward, all forward! My feet, help me – more than once you have already rescued me in street collisions - aid me just once more!

A fast-fast run along with jumps through the lanes, a single though, constantly swirling in a head - “I will make it” … Yes, I will make it!

A sharp head’s turn - a man catching him has come up from round the corner. He didn’t deceive him … didn’t … a man has probably noticed, where I have turned! He’s gonna to catch me now! One hundred meters … ninety … eighty … seventy …

Here it is. His own home. Home … or something that can be called as such with an immense share of doubt. Here’s his rescue.

He cannot let this place be discovered - it was necessary to mislead a persecutor. The recent thief ran away from this house into the next lane, a man - just behind him.

Now … upwards by ladders - then we’ll move down on a lift. Upwards, upwards! Tramping behind his back …

Just to be in time - just to get to his home unnoticed! At last … last floor … just a portion of more time to come off! The button of a lift, pressed against the stop … opening and closing doors, made of iron. He slipped inside.

Have I made that? Haven’t they noticed?

A ground floor. A choking teenager, who has jumped out of a lift - almost child … And running again - a desperate, on the last breath, run. Running for the rescue.

Here it is - his refuge, which has already aided him time and again from a hardship, from misfortunes and hatred of others, - rescued from totally anything, except for himself …

He ran into the house - opened and covered a cellar’s door. He has no time to barricade it for now. He has to hide, to show no signs of life! Then he will get a chance to deceive - he most certainly will.

Drops of water, dripping from a ceiling. A smell of something being burned, coming from depths. A teenager, clamped in a corner - almost like a child. Silent-silent breath in own palms - to not be heard. Rescued?

A slowly opening door … streams of light, which have illuminated and shined a figure on a threshold, his sight is directed directly to a teenager …

A smile? Is he smiling? He has finally caught him and is smiling now?! Probably in anticipation of forthcoming punishment …

A quiet voice, filled with internal dignity …

“Well, stop hiding there. To hide from others for all your life - you don’t intend to live so, yes? Come on, come here. Stop fearing me, why are you even stronger clamping in this dirty corner, as if it can serve for you as a rescue in this life? I am not going to abuse and beat you … you have been suffering already - more pain is not an option. Come on, stand up. I will even let you take a part of money that you have stolen. Maybe even all of them - if you are going to spend then reasonably.”

He’s calling for him to approach. A trap? Probably. Certainly.

But his voice rings somehow too warmly and convincingly. Other men didn’t speak that way … yes ! - they spoke totally different when they had caught him … And besides … what prevents him from just approaching and taking what has been stolen by force ? - and yet he doesn’t … still saying something … Will willingly let him keep all money? Oh, sure, I’m gonna to believe you right away! Such things simply never happen.

“Why do you still fear me? I have already promised not to cause you harm. You feel no trust … yes, you are too frightened and too fierce at present to start trusting people … but you will overcome this obstacle, you’ll see! All right, if you still do not desire to move … Then I will go down to reach you myself.”

He’s approaching … going down! No, that’s the end! He totally pressed himself into the dark corner …

“What sort of home do you have … And what’s that? A glue? Oh my silly little fellow, whether this muck can replace a real healthy life? All right, stand up. It’s necessary to hide in this murky corner no more. Stand up, I will aid you.”

Strong hands, which have now very accurately raised him up. He lifted own eyes with shyness to see the man and involuntarily admired. Courageous and fearless face … a smile, playing on lips … attentive and … sympathizing … gaze? As though looking into your very soul and seeing each and every you desire, all your dreams …

“Let’s go, oh pilferer”, - a man smiled once more. “We have to move forward, for another path is waiting for you. Very soon you will see that. No, it’s not necessary to return me that money, keep it to yourself - for pocket expenses, as they call it. But keep in mind that I will check of how you’ve spent them.

Where are we travelling? Back to my home - it’s so much better that your musty cellar. You will live with me for a while - for after all you have always dreamed to have a father, yes? I will be such a one - until your way will call for you.

You have an entire life waiting for you. Let it be a worthy one - you have the power to make your life the way it ought to be, for that’s what you have deserved. And I - I’ll simply aid you on your way, help you make the first steps … you will travel yourself from there on. I will help you - I desire to help you, so that you can behold the life. Life, I tell you, instead of its dark illusion! Take my hand. Follow me.”

Two slowly travelling figures - a man along with a little boy. Heads of both are raised and sight is directed somewhere highly in the heaves … A brisk cheerful conversation. Laughter and smiles.

Life is just one corner ahead.




12.04.2011




Maybe


“I have looked around me - and struck was my soul by sufferings of men …”

A.N.Radishchev

This world is on the razor-edge. The break is coming very close. You are even totally incapable to foresee when and what can provoke a final chord. Yet you are so proud of yourselves, so falsely pragmatic … do you have another home?

You have been devastating this planet for centuries, and its destruction by your joint efforts have now reached truly catastrophic scales. You are truly unaware of what you are doing. You have been given a fine, pure, perfect home, but you have transformed it into something terrific. Oh, certainly, for many of you this is some sort of a game, right? One world is not enough for you, and thus you have started crawling in your under-space jalopies into others … do you truly believe you will be freely allowed to raze them as well?

Behold the ones you are following. Look at the ones you are listening to. Inspect what you believe in, and your destiny will not look dreadful to you any longer. One giant “b-o-o-o-m!” - and everything can be started anew, right? But what will happen to your souls, what is awaiting them after such a chord for this world? You don’t even try to reflect on that! Such a scenario for your minds is only some sort of a horror story for a certain phantasmagoric Hollywood, yes? However, at such succession of events you will feel fear instead of fun in reality. How far you are from understanding of the true scales of your disaster! Look for now at your politicians, your scientists, medics and those who call themselves no less than servants of God, bearing no right for that. And, having done that, have once courage to look inside the very depths of yourselves.

For how many times have you tasted the unctuous nectar of lie, flowing from the lips of those to whom you have voluntary given the right to dominate over yourselves? For how many times have they promised to build a Paradise on the Earth? Do you still believe that such a task is in their powers and meets their proportions? But whether a flea can construct a palace or a temple? How many wars have you waged under their command, how many men suffered greatly under the hand of earth tsars? Constantly do they call you for new destructions so that in that endless chaos can they climb on a notorious Olympus at least for an instant. Whether they are not caliphs-for-an-hour? And for you it is the last given life before the ultimate assessment of the way of everyone. Or do you believe that these leaders of yours should be given more time once again, so that together with their brothers-in-arms scientists can they enter a new round of races for possession of even more deadly weapons? Or perhaps you are hoping that these races will go on and on forevermore endlessly, that only possession of weapons and physical forces will be a sufficient basis for preservation of terrestrial nations? But what is the reason to keep those that keeps destroying this world particle after a particle? Or have you a guess that all the true prophets who have come to your world were speaking of some other’s irrelevant fate and were teaching you of something completely abstract and thus useless? How short-minded have many of you become.

Look now at those ones whom you are calling as scientists. With your combined efforts you have managed to turn this world into one big dump. Do you truly think that possession of technics can expiate your paralysis of spirit? Your accomplices have already invented those things which are capable to destroy all physical life on this planet. Do you desire to go further in that? You haven’t enough of it? Or do you consider yourselves still travelling the divine way, more and more linking yourself with a machine and thus being gradually transformed into it? You know almost nothing of the true possibilities of spirit! And whether all these advanced achievements of science and technology have made you truly joyful and happy beings, whether they have added something to the beauty of your inner “I”? You keep collecting dust in your palms, believing it is to be some sort of a jewel, while your true jewel keeps becoming dusty inside you. Soon you will start trusting opinions of machines more than ones of your neighbors, and after that even more that of your own. Then you will replace yourselves with machines. But whether this universe needs yet another factory, producing biological robots?

Whether your medics will be capable to cure you from such a spiritual transformation, while they can’t even heal your bodies? Or do you think that body and spirit are not linked together by invisible threads? Or are you hoping to find next miraculous pill from all troubles and sorrows, fading of spirit being included? But have the prophets taught you of that? And whether doctors of yours desire to understand that violation of laws of spirit always goes before body illnesses? Or, perhaps, they are aware of all invisible consequences of hatred and rage, radiated by spirit? Or something about the destiny of children’s souls whose bodies are suffering from “incurable” diseases, because they have chosen the path of atonement of many from their kin? Or something of that indescribable pain, which have been felt by unborn babies, being killed alive … nothing more than a “biological material” for some? Are those ones not afraid of once being transformed into it themselves? But you are so hurrying to accuse of disgrace the Highest Powers, that you don’t even notice how you are dirtying the souls of your own children, thus starting slowly killing yourselves as well. No sort of pills will ever help you to purify yourselves from own-brought spiritual infection. But, maybe, suffering, you will once learn to truly love each other …

For it is the love of which all the true prophets were telling you! But whether it is the love glimmering in the hearts of those who have proclaimed themselves as their followers? Oh, if only it was that way! But a thirst for wealth and power possessed them and made their hearts stale to human suffering. Therefore do they feast nowadays in luxury with the world being on the break, but whether it’s not a feast during a plague time? Therefore ready they are to willingly rob the ones trusting them of their last possessions, and banish them back to the God, whom they serve not. Maybe someone, banished by these servants, will once find the Maker outside of temples walls. Maybe at least some will understand that the God is not living in the houses of those worshipping a mammon. Maybe they will once bring this message to others.

May you know that this world is still alive only thanking to the God’s Greatest Favor. Only His endless love constrains that relentless stream of evil born by you, which is capable of destroying this world in a single flash of time, having found itself a way out. His Hands have the God stretched over this world and carries it in them like it is a child. And have a feeling I do that He desires it greatly for this world to survive. But some of your kind still have enough impudence to accuse Him of the absence of care of your modest personalities!

Maybe, one day you will see everything clearly. Maybe, you will manage to understand and do something of vital importance in your lives. Maybe you will get rid of the illusions which have flooded your world. Maybe, you will finally fall in love with the One who have given a birth to your spirit and have gifted you a wonderful home. Maybe under His care and with His great aid you will once transform this world into a living Paradise.

Oh, how wonderful would that be!

10.08.2012




Of the Princes, who do not exist


One day this will happen.

Your prince on a white horse will once come to you, though you will not hear him. You will not notice him in human crowd, you will not open your doors when he will knock. You will not recognize him and let him enter, for you have not been waiting. True princes always come unexpectedly.

They need no heralds, announcing their arrival. They need no applause. Shouts of approval of others are not required for them. Even horses are necessary no more.

They always come on their own – with years of hard work and constant challenges they got used to rely only on own powers, they learnt to trust themselves. You will not hear them far off on knocking of hoofs of their dashing horses, you will never see them caracoling. They have left white horses far behind of themselves, for without them they can move faster. They have rejected a gilt harness and a well-cared mane, they have refused convenient saddles. Now they always come on their own.

For that reason you will not recognize him, you will pass by.

If they towered proudly over the others on their graceful horses – they would be too appreciable. But they need no applause.

If they raced you on their snow-white horses – you would never forget this short journey together. But they need no dependence on them.

If they have offered you to marry them – you could not refuse. But they want to see others being free.

They denied this greatness. The stepped down from their horses. They became small princes. 

And with time they got lost in a big crowd.

That is why you will not recognize him, for you have not known him. For you knew only big princes – too big to once become small ones. That is why you always look above your head, hoping to see big ones and never noticing the small. They became useless.

And still they come. And still they continue to knock on the door of yours, knowing that those doors will not be opened – for there is nobody inside to do it anymore.

And still they hope that one day, lots of years after, you will remember that quiet knock you have heard so long ago, countless days before, but chosen not to open the door, for the unexpected visitor came in thunder-storm and you were too afraid to presoak your feet. Yes, you will remember it once – and smile, having understood, what sort of traveller was on the road.

Seldom, very seldom they come to those who could open the doors - but doors still stand closed – for there is no one to open them from the inside.

They have not died out. They have not vanished.

It is you who have killed your princes.




29.09.2010




PPP


If there are only goats all around you, it’s unreasonable to consider yourself an angel

Totally not belonging here proverb

Believe us or not, but no longer can we suffer and hide that recent history from you, happened with us by the will of life, for do we feel it, accurately somewhere under the rib from left side, that marvelous is this story secret and unusual, with meaning still unresolved by us, and instructive brain-washingly. And therefore you, having a talk among us, decided we to tell at least a little, so that can you understand from it at least something, and a desire to change yourself acquire in a proper time. For otherwise it all can fail and fall down through the earth, yeah, just like in the PPP we describe ye. Well, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

And do write down that history named for you we – men simple rural of the village Newworldish, Kirill and Mefodiy. But you us, please, with these letter-makers and azbukas-creators do not confuse, for many times were we blamed for it, for they say that we, apparently, invented this great and mighty Russian – we mean, chattering, foul one, yet did forget to add necessary and required words there, so men ours sometimes missed words these in their disputes greatly. And didn’t we invent it, yet only used ! Especially when all that property of our guys along with PPP have fallen down there, oh, how greatly have we used it – so that even invented new words precisely like Kirill and Mefodiy, yeah ! Well, so, looks like we got acquainted with each other a bit, told you of ourselves (especially that particular Kirill who have advised me to write down this particular story for particular future generations to be educated and advised).

So, believe us or not at all and check it all for yourself (but how could it be possible we don’t know, for all that PPP belongings of ours has been locked underground for several years by now, and thus are unable really to be a material evidence of sorts), but everything happened precisely as we are going to tell you here and now.

Living we were all in our Newwordish village, and knew neither the sadness nor the madness. To kids women of ours gave birth, and we together with them brought them up on mind, reason and chastity. Crops we collected plentiful, so that rye and wheat still remained for sale to nearby cities and towns. And cows ours in farms gave milk normally, and hens made eggs large, and sheep were full of fur, and cats exhausted mice completely. And relations with each other we had fine and harmonious – and such good that we didn’t even sweat between ourselves at all (well, unless, say, we take yet another bottle of moonshine on holidays and don’t share it among our men properly – for, yeah, in that case such wall-to-wall fights could take place that only whistle, ahs, ohs and dust to knees was carried throughout all the village, that’s right). Well, brothers, not a life it was, but a fairytale practically ! Yet didn’t we value that tranquility and peace seriously, and for real pennies for horrors other-worldly did we exchange them, and of that mistake we have been grieving still.

And here how the story goes. Somehow merchants overseas  arrived to us from Newdevilish village. And merchants they were because in clothes were they dressed unusual – men in some jackets black in color with canes and hats, and maids shameless with them in dresses short semi-transparent. And from Newdevilish village cause they said us so, even though we have heard of the village with such a name for the first time that time, and haven’t seen it with own eyes, thankfully. And why overseas ones they are we don’t know, for by the form their external and manners very strange we in our private circles so settled and decided afterwards. And also noted we and were surprised greatly that instead of horses habitual and common were their vehicles driven by pigs big, and no drivers did they have at all so these pigs mentioned could move them anywhere they had a whim of their own !

And so they all left their vehicles ruled by pigs, and started to call themselves with names unusual – Smiths, Bobs, Johns, Susans and Varvaras (pardon, Barbaras) and the like. Did say they that have already heard of the village our worthy, and therefore decided not to forget of us as well – and have arrived, thus, to look at us and study us. To learn our customs, as we understood it, and to adopt ones of their own in return. But turned it out, brothers, accurately according to a nipple system ! Imposed they did theirs customs harmful to us, and ours they derided and mocked  after, unfashionable and out-of-date them calling. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

They stopped at first in our local tavern for a week or so, so that they can, well, examine our village on “prospects of innovations”, as they decided to express themselves unclearly. And to pay off at first they wanted not with copper coins of ours that sound, but with some pieces of green paper with pyramids and eyes painted on them. Greatly were we surprised by such money, and didn’t want to accept them at first, but convinced they us naturally that always easy it is to exchange pieces of paper these with ugly faces of people on their reverse side drawn, for almost anything we desire, for the entire world is being bought and sold by them for these pieces. Ooh, didn’t scent we their dirty trick at that moment, stupid ones, for in calmness and tranquility of our world, until their arrival which have been remaining, very trustful we managed to become and didn’t think anything bad about visitors.

And so at first a week or so passed, and then the second one came, yet lodgers didn’t even think of leaving. And were they travelling through the village and inquiring both men and women ours of something, and showing them something, and winking. Tempted them with their devilish dresses and addictions without doubt – yet didn’t we understood it at first, moment that critical missed and passed by !

And so it turned our finally so that both a tavern and yard our coaching we have been stripped at once ! Tooth we are giving to you that it all was the way we do describe here : woke up men ours early in the morning by a cock’s shout and decided to walk by dews to breath fresh invigorating air. And voila – see they that our tavern is gone without a trace ! And would it still be fine if lost this trace was in some fire – for a brand new one better than the former would we build, with a pair milk instead of vodka there offered. But no way – instead of a yard our coaching and tavern there was some monster tall made of concrete and glass, as if the sun itself eclipsing with a paunch of floors spreading wide !

And on the first floor letters golden enormous sparkled with all colors and shades, and the only word with three letters there was imprinted, and was that word PPP. For long have we been guessing after that of what this word could mean, and as we could remember agreed that Profound Public Place is that, and why did we call it that way – soon you would understand it, as soon as the history of our grieves you manage to read up to the end. And were rising up and up floor after a floor of this building, and there was no visible end to them at all, uprising – and knowing people, there often afterwards dwelling, told us that there were exactly nine hundred ninety nine floors out there, yet the lift there  did not go higher than the first hundreds of floors in village of ours, yet it’ said that in PPPs similar in big cities was it rising higher than that.

And how building that huge and enormous in one night could grow like a mushroom after some acid rain, we have no idea of – and the owner of a tavern, as we remember, was too shocked greatly and grieved at first of his institution, and often guests our overseas surprising accused in that, as if they possessed such magic powers to construct in a night such vast immodest objects – pigs they are, in a word, and blighters. And as if in the water was our Arseny looking, as if was feeling it all in advance !

Rushed we afterwards, as remembered, through the village altogether, seeking those guests unusual, demanding them to answer for that crime of construction, yet no matter how hard we tried to find them in gates, cellars, even sheds, but disappeared they totally without a single trace to catch. Left, probably, by that night from village of ours as far as possible, by pigs being driven. And let they rot ! – decided we, and went to examine the new building. Oh, people kind and smart, better it would be if we didn’t do that, for enticed us all this PPP afterwards and drugged seriously !

Almost everything was available inside it, oh brothers ! Both casino cash-stealing and perfume stupefying, both flowers artificial and dinners gut-filling, and clothes fashionable shameless, and gold with ornaments soul-blinding, and gadgets various peeping and humming and time-consuming, and wines overseas intoxicating, and magazines colorful vulgarizing ... And grasped was the spirit of many of us, and in crowds were we breaching into that PPP, and for all day long have been wandering there and circling by floors and lanes these infinite, and back to their families, and children, and husbands, and wives didn’t want to return at all.

And the payment for pleasures these harmful there was, as we remember, unusual as well : standing there were at an entrance to corridors machines made of iron, and, well, to shake out some money from these devices one had to put his finger in a hole special and wait until some needle pierces his finger and sucks away a portion of his blood – and as if in exchange after that short-term operation pieces of papers these green with eyes and ugly faces on them were dropped in a tray a bit lower. Not so much of them were dropped one at a time, to tell the truth, so that if someone has been hanging for all day long in that PPP mentioned, for many times to machines these he had to run towards, blood his donating, and was unsteady and pale sometimes by the end of the day, yet was still running and lots of pleasures and delights in PPP was buying as if some addict or drunkard really, and maybe even someone worse than that. Precisely like vampires machines these were acting, blood our Russian from due to our weak willpower for each day drop by drop have been drinking !

And changed everything in village our that day, like a snowball pulled hard and downhill started sliding ! And often, as we remember, it was that comes someone from our men by early solar morning to another and offers him so loudly and cheerfully : “Ivan, let’s go living already ! “ And receives a response back drowsily and inertly : “Can’t you see, Emelya, - I am PPP today !” – and went afterwards in that PPP, Profound Public Place, as we called it among ourselves, and have been spending there all day long, so that word this, PPP, soon nominal became by itself.

And soon almost everyone started feeling himself totally PPP, and many there, in PPP that harmful finally degraded and almost like cattle they became. And so hard and awfully soon it became to live that one could start howling from a grief due to that state his indifferent ! And many, naturally, started howling in life – but not on the moon, surely, yet on their neighbors like wolves spiteful. And started swearing with words foreign, from overseas, and hating each other and banishing, for everything became totally PPP to them, even to remain kind, probably.

And for many months has this tragedy lasted, and as if charmed men have become. And soon afterwards it became known as well that machines mentioned, ones blood gathering, were not that simple as they looked like at first – blood they were pumping, and in response some substance poisonous in blood were injecting, so that some women and children of ours died from that poison overseas, their PPP condition being unable to sustain. And buried they were quite fast, and cried about a little for the sake of pro-forma only, and very few people that commemoration visited – for totally PPP it was for them everything by that day already. And whether you do believe us, brothers, or not, but a sun our shining as well began to come to a horizon even earlier than before, so that dark time became longer. And cocks ceased to sing, and hens to give eggs, and cats as well were totally PPP to catch a single mouse.

And don’t we remember exactly for how long these troubles have lasted, - yet clearly we do remember of how it finally ended. Our grandma, local healer, Praskoviya, was almost the only one who has not entered this ill-starred PPP at all. And once after her husband, well, having swallowed some wine and smoked some smokes, returned back home as always, soul of hers didn’t sustain that and shouted she in a fit of temper, as we could remember, the following : “And may all that PPP of yours fall underground once and for all !” And literally in that particular moment (if her husband Mikhalych, well, who have secretly whispered all this to us after sobering, doesn’t lie naturally and shamelessly), the ground in all our village started shaking and moving like waves, as if not a ground that was at all, but some sort of sea instead. And so it was all shaking and moving for some time, and after that – yawn ! –a hole enormous under that PPP opened, and all it along with the unfortunate ones who were in it during that time have fallen into that depth infinite, so that a third part of our village disappeared there in no time suddenly, in that gloomy endless depth.

Like a crater enormous that hole was ! Ooh how terrified were we to look at it for the first times ! And shouted there in a hope that someone would respond us back, yet only the death silence has always been an echo. And several days after the earth started trembling once again, and linked on the place of that hole and closed it, as if there has never been anything on a place of that tavern ill-fated. And Praskoviya mentioned became mute after these events– and were going and couldn’t utter a single word any longer, only swinging was she her hands silently from time to time, that’s it.

And may you believe us or may you not, - yet life started adjusting and correcting itself after events these terrifying. And as if regained consciousness people, and awakened, and came this PPP to its ultimate end. And started living peacefully with each other once again, with kids, and husbands and wives their time sharing. And days became longer, and nights shorter, and cocks started singing once again, and hens eggs were bringing, and rats ran away and got lost somewhere. Remembered well people that lesson dreadful, and threw away all PPPs from their souls, living justly.

Yep, so it was all exactly like that as we, men Kirill and Mefodiy, have told you here ! And not a single bit did we muddle events of the days of the past, only probably a little in details most insignificant dispersed – but that could happen to everyone, yes ? And whether you trust us or not – is not the business of ours, for the business of ours we have already fulfilled right now, - and the business of yours is to read all this, to think over it, and get rid of all those PPPs once and for all !




22.09.2012




Sign of the Way


Dirt. Slush. Dampness. Decay’s smell. Water, dripping from a ceiling.

It used to be here so for a time being. No one was ever going to fix this cellar, and it was unimportant for inhabitants of this house - totally and irreversibly. They, too, were unimportant for those tenants, not to anyone, not to anybody. 

Only few ones aided them, responded to their requests … immensely simple requests, so easy for these rich tenants.  To give some money - as little as they can, as much as impossible. To bring a small piece of bread - for they were starving to the death.

Practically nobody ever helped. So few ones.

Why? Why? Why?

What an immense amount of boldness was required for them in order to address someone! To plead for help in the condition, in which they were for now, to stand against a gaze, full of hatred and contempt. 

What for did men despise them? For, when their father died and mother passed away from this world as well, having choked in some furious illness, for, when this has happened, government expropriated their apartment from them - so totally young, and since then they have been doomed to wander through court yards and cellars, by hook or by crook finding even a single piece of bread? Stealing so seldom, so much often - just to beg. To plead for help, for aid with something - what can be given, can be spared. They were left with a last possibility of survival - a sincere human request, addressing hearts of men … But almost no one ever dared to help.

Once again they gathered here today, in a stuffy and dirty cellar - best option, which they have managed to find during last months. Gathered to discuss results of the day - to share what it was possible to find with each other. If it was possible, that’s it.

They didn’t conceal anything from each other, didn’t hide, referring to adverse circumstances - shared all they have managed to get. They, who have been struggling against such deprivations, had no knowledge of contempt and egoism, they aided one another … They - two brothers and a sister. Two sixteen-year old teenagers and fourteen-year girl.

For almost three years they have been living that way. How it was possible, as much as they could. They have already sustained three years of such life - how much is left for them in the storehouse of life ? A month, a year, a decade? Nay, it’s better not to think of that, not in that direction. Period.

The obstinate reason made one feel uneasy, was running in circles time and again - even now. Tried to create rescue plans, to calculate possibilities to jump out of this dark and dirty fetid hole into the living world. To leave this excuse for a world behind, and enter a new and pure one, not its pity caricature.

No matter what, they were left to explore this type of world for now on. Only that pitiful one. But what will be with all those noble causes and fulfillments, of which they have dreamed so often in long-forgotten childhood, what is going to be with all them? Will they be lost? Or will find the inner strength to survive?

Must survive.

They have to survive for their dreams to be realized - their pure dreams must survive in hearts of theirs for them to survive-– so that they can live on as men. Dying is not an option, both cases. They will survive. And implement their light dreams afterwards.

His reflections were suddenly interrupted by a soft and high pitched voice - one of his sister, who have just come running from street. Entered this poor excuse for a home.

- Pasha, Pasha, take a look at what I’ve found today. Come to me, please come closer!

He took a look. There was an apple pie in her hands - a big apple pie. Already slightly dried up and soiled, with a large part which have been bitten off. She yearned, poor soul …

-          Vanya, Pasha, take it. Take it all. I have already eaten, was given food. A wonderful kind grandmother, single such one for many ladder flights. Only one. She gave me warm and sweet-sweet tea with jam. Can you imagine? Never in my life since the death of our mum and pa have I eaten such yum-yum. She allowed me to eat some pies, and when I have told her that I have two brothers as well, she has been searching for something for quite a while, distressed. And then she told me that for now she practically have nothing more as a food for you, for she is no more able to walk freely, and her sons buy and bring her meals. A pie, this very pie - she said that she has baked it herself, and for now that’s everything she has to give you. She gave me that for you, and then told that if I am either hungry or terrified, I can return to her once more - and she will warm and feed me. That’s it. These are great news!

While she, distorting and eating words, has been chattering all that, he approached her and silently sat down nearby. Took a glance at her - she was shivering. Then he embraced her and pushed to himself. Let she be warmed, calmed down. She’s good fellow, brought some meal. That was rarely possible even for both of them. A good fellow.

“You are the good fellow”, - he told her. She smiled. “I did my best”, - he heard.

Now, now they are going to eat to be warmed. Their organisms will obediently take offered food and transform it into a heat. It should suffice for today - and tomorrow they must repeat it all from the very beginning. 

And every day is so much the same. A month? A year? A decade?

With no visible option to escape this circle. It, certainly, exists, - yet he’s unable to find it. But he will find, most surely will. For their own sake, for the sake of his younger brother and little sister - an escape route will be found, a breach will be located. He’s obliged to locate it.

Slowly did drops drip from a ceiling. Time hung heavy. He was sitting and reflecting … remembering his former carefree life. How much he’s missing it now! They all are missing the caress of parents, their kindness and care. Life forced them to become totally-totally adult very early, being thrown away from a childhood. It was necessary for some mysterious reason … Was required …

To teach them not to be afraid of deprivations? To help them be kinder and tolerant to men, especially now, when so few of them were ever going to behave the same in return? To make them understand the pain and burden of others, same as they are?

Probably. Most certainly.

But from this endless stream of vital lessons he, seemingly, learned at best a lesson of compassion and mutual aid - he could never imagine his life without an aid to his brother and little sister. He was obliged to aid them get out from this hole. Help them …

In this very instant of time his little sister somehow amusingly smacked one’s lips, and turned to another side, still holding the edge of his jacket in her small hands. He turned around and once again covered her p let the foolish cold doesn’t disturb her at least in her dreams …

They didn’t even have a tiny possibility to earn some money - to earn with their, though childish, but totally selfless work. It would become as such if he managed to find some job at last. But never in his condition was it possible. 

No one, nobody gave them a job - they were almost immediately thrown away at first sight. “People”, - he was compelled to shout to all those men, giving clips and punches, decorated maidens, fastidiously screwing up their faces, and starting to whisper something to those men quickly after his first appearing before them, - “people! Why do you drive me away, leaving with no possibility to get out of this terrible hole, in which I have sunk? I am trying to jump away from it, trying to change my life! I am not even begging anything from you - I’m simply trying to earn something, even for a meal. Why do you despise me so? You don’t even know, you have totally no idea of all those burdens and deprivations which I along with my brother and little sister had to sustain! You, whether you know, I wonder, how’s that - to live with no roof over a head, with no place which you can call home … to live the way I do … to live, being ready in each new day to cease living, having simply died from hunger? Do you have a slightest idea of this life’s taste? Have no desire to know? I, too, have none - totally - but had to feel it on my own lips. I had to. And now I can make nothing … Almost nothing.”

Do I indeed can make totally nothing … is that really so? Cause if … if a constant source of food and heat won’t be found soon - they will be lost. Will die … and … that’s all?

If he’s unable to earn … something … a bit … then … his little sister will have to … have to …

Nay, no, no way! Damn reason, shut up, shut up, shut up!

That will never happen! Never! I won’t admit it! Break myself about thresholds, begging for work - but won’t admit it!

After all, she, Nina, could become a true princess … a sunray for a lot of people - she, since her very birth, she had a talent to play life … playing it so lovely, so naturally. She has been living almost like a child even now in that cacophony of their life. She could become a wonderful actress - actress of life … various life … uneasy life.

And he along with his brother could help a lot of people, teaching them to value what is being given to them by life, to appreciate any blessing, any help … to respond to the request, a sincere human request … not to allow one’s hearts to freeze …

Water, slowly dripping from a ceiling. Peep of rats behind a wall. Two boys and a girl, nestled to each other. Sleeping. What is awaiting them the next day?

Next five hundred sixty seven days …




* * *




A pen, being put aside. Sheets of paper, piled upon each other. He will continue his work tomorrow - continue writing. He still has much to tell people.

A still young man with a strange for random passer by radiant sight left his table. Yes, he’s going to continue the work he devoted himself to tomorrow.

He reflected for a moment and smiled. How lovely and natural her sister was! She has been living that way even now, living as a child, still capable to take care of her and others. She has been living like that even now, when troubles and misfortunes of their past have been overcome, having left a large hem in a memory. Slowly healing hem.

Have all lessons been learned? Is the meaning of his life’s events been understood? Were answers, given to the questions, asked by life itself, honorable and wise? Questions, asked more than ten years ago … Much has been understood and comprehended, but even more is awaiting him on his road. And he’ll try to analyze results of his selections, comprehend own errors. He’ll make it in the book - his first book. No, in their common book - book of their life. Two brothers and a sister.

His sister called him yesterday by phone. Her voice was, as always, melodious and joyful. A lovely voice of dear person. Yes, she rejoiced her new life. Was indeed happy. She was granted a new role in a remarkable film - a role of a gentle wife and loving mother, the one, which she so perfectly carries out now in her own family. In a family with no insult and hatred ever possible, one without mistrust and self-interest, with a light and air of freedom, gentle aroma of love and mutual aid and assistance, trust, gratitude and kindness - where all that is present as a basis, a core. She’s truly happy in that family of hers - she always spoke so … shared her joy in their meetings.

He’s happy as well, in his new work.

Only his brother doesn’t send news for quite a while. Never mind, he’ll sure will, when return from abroad. He’s now a businessman, influential one and a man of action - largest magnates of a country listen to his opinion. Yet this sort of power hasn’t spoiled him, he - all they - were given a lesson of deprivations for a reason. It made them kinder and wiser, despite the obstacles, in spite of the barriers. 

Now each of them implements his own dream. Just as they once dreamed …

Someone will probably say, that it’s a miracle and shed a few tears with a joy in own eyes. Somebody will be wrinkled mistrustfully, having muttered that all this “story” of his own life, embodied in a book, have much in common with a ridiculous fairy tale and silly fictions. Some will thank him for an advice. Some will start applying advices in own life. And he himself will name it - a Trial, a life’s test. A test, symbolizing the beginning of new ones … each and every day.

Is that truly a miracle that after almost five years of wanderings, they at last managed to be arranged in some circus to look after animals, and when some unknown actress left the group, attention of circus managers were suddenly turned to his little sister, to her live and childish spontaneity … to her unspeakable beauty in that spontaneity?

And then there were years - years of hard work. So very different years.

He’s been made a gymnast - along with his natural dexterity he coped perfectly with that role. His brother has been taught to juggle. Their sister began to conduct shows. This was the beginning of their new life’s journey.

Is that really a miracle that his sister soon became an actress - and her charm and sincere beauty have brought her a world’s fame?

Whether that a miracle that his brother, having saved a small fortune, opened a business, which has grown into the largest transnational company?

Whether that a miracle that, wishing with all his heart to seek answers to life questions, to learn himself and to teach others making right choices, - became a writer ?

He won’t name it a miracle, he’ll call it a Sign - a sign of the way. His and their way - a way which they must - have been obliged to - pass to become the ones they have become.

To cope with challenges. To feel no fear of obstacles. To believe in fine dreams, to implement them in one’s life. To become a Man, a man with a capital letter.

To be him.




15.05.2011




Thirtieth day


The thirtieth day …

Yes, the thirtieth day has passed since he has got here. Into his new home. HOME.

The frozen tongue refused to pronounce this painfully familiar and once causing an anxious delight and joy word. How unimaginably new it now sounded in consciousness !

Despair. Despair, dimming the mind.

Tears – what about ? Maybe of those long time gone and irrevocable days of simple man’s happiness ? Of sonorous men's voices and happy children's smiles ? Of a united family, which he was eager to have ?

“Father” … He has, actually, never heard this wonderful sound – and will never hear it now. NEVER. The mind gloatingly hinted, that this is so – it can be no other way. But the heart, the heart, which have suffered so many torments and suffering – his heart refused to believe that. It always refused to trust in pain and grief. Always. Or … until the 30-days old events only ?

And still … nevertheless, it’s his new home for now, no matter how blasphemously this word would now sound. 

A street. Almost constantly locked up at night doors of buildings. City dumps, where it was seldom possible to find some sort of food …

No, no, NO !! This cannot be with me, only not with me ! Why, why, why ?!

Silence. Deadly silence. Silence of night. Words have left a withered throat into a darkness of night and have died out in a far distance.

There is no response. He will have to search for answers himself.

Then – weakened, wasted, with scars all over his body – traces of struggle against colleagues by misfortune and city’s thugs, with a face, covered by purulent scabs, - he has fallen to the ground. He hasn’t even noticed, how suddenly the earth approached and his body, having hit it with dull sound, kept lying motionlessly …




* * *




… He did neither remember, nor know, how many time has passed. And, probably, didn’t even want to. What’s the reason ? To find livelihood and a lodging for the next night – were his needs not limited by this only ?

Then he opened his eyes. Tried to move – and desperately screamed from a sharp pain and a bloody haze in his eyes – a hand, his right hand. The one, which has rescued him time and again in fights on dark alleys for a piece of bread, the one which helped him to sometimes open not too qualitatively made locks of city buildings – he felt it no more. Totally, completely. A bone fracture, a dislocation ? Most probably a dislocation and a pain shock, which has followed it … that’s good. Could be worse – much worse. 

We will make it. We will survive, reason – I tell you !

Hospital ? What hospital are you suggesting me to go for, reason ? And was it not you, my accidental witness, of how hundreds of people during those thirty days expelled me and threw me away from public transport, how teenagers mocked me angrily, how adults unfriendly mowed and how young girls turned away from me with such an expression on their faces, as if they have just seen the nastiest thing in their life ?

There is no place for me in the world of those ones. No more a place.

Aaarrrgggghhh … no, stop it ! Only not those images, only not them ! Memory, my obliging aunt who has been serving to me so right earlier, - what sort of malicious joke are you going to play with me ?! Stop it, I beg you ! I have already submitted to my fate ! I have put up with it – do you hear me ? I had !

Or … or not completely ?

Questions, questions, questions … Questions, irritating both mind and heart. Lonely questions without answers. Servants of pain – spiritual anguish. 

A pain again – this time from a hand. That’s not too much. That one will be gone.

They, it’s they who are guilty ! – once again he wanted to growl spitefully. Yes, it’s them. Harmful businessmen, liars, rascals. They have cheated him, as well as hundreds like him. He did not remember all details for now, but firmly remembered one thing – they have get his apartment by a deceit. Fucked company, false agency ! Bastards !

Stop.

Only not rage. No more hatred. He was already tired of it, too tired already. Thirty days – it’s such a big timespan to still continue hating.

Thirty days … how much he has learnt and understood during those thirty days !

With what contempt he looked at all these “needy” and unfortunate people earlier ! How much arrogance and complacency was in his eyes, obscured by formal well-being. How many simple human requests he rejected, referring to a lack of time … a lack … now, seemingly, he has this time in surplus – but what sort of time …

He even betrayed once – his close friend and the fellow worker. Wanted to earn money … has earned … And his friend got to prison for financial frauds – tried to prove, that he was a fictitious person. If only he also knew, who did that …

He has to pay for everything, he thought suddenly. For all things made. To redeem own crimes. A cruel lesson, indeed. He was, however, cruel as well.

He stood up. Looked around. He has come – has returned to his home … Not to himself, though, not to his home. He perfectly remembered what was his home for now. And nevertheless … something uncontrollably pushed him to enter this familiar front door, to feel house smells – for the last time in his life. He will not return to this building anymore.

And then, having thrown aside all cowardly and bitter thoughts, firmly pushed his fractured hand to a breast, he has moved on – started wandering to a front door of this house. The door slowly swung open and some married couple went out of the doors – probably on a walk. He made a jerk and approached the entrance.

The young girl made a wry mouth and whispered something to his beloved one’s ear. The beloved one tried to strongly seize a man with a ridiculously bent and pressed to a breast hand, moving to a front door, but that man has suddenly whispered : “Only for a minute. It’s my former home”, - and a man’s hand, almost ready to seize this nasty vagabond, has suddenly slowly dropped somehow, a flickering of understanding moved in his eyes for an instant and, having murmured  “yes, certainly”, he stood aside.

… Forward and upwards – to the third floor. Here it is, close and familiar … almost native. And who might be living in his apartment for now ?

He listened. Somewhere behind a door the dog was vigorously barking, possibly meeting his master. Somewhere a child was crying. Somewhere people were swearing. And only once during all that half an hour that he was standing, having leant against a wall and remembering former life, somewhere from above a many-voiced and joyful laughter has reached his ears.

He came back a short time after. Away from his home. Or straight to it ?

The ground floor … mail boxes, similar to cast bunkers. To look in ? But who can write him ? Who ?

And still he looked into it – in a box with large and bold number “30”. The thirtieth day … the thirtieth apartment … it’s even somewhat amusing …

There was only one letter – with his initials on it. With his ! He looked at its date. Yes, it was brought 29 days ago – the apartment was still owned by him that day. He has overrun its text.  At first the bewilderment, then amazement, a smile and a pain were reflected in his face. However, if somebody has accidently seen his face this instant – he would accept its expression for some sort of predatory grin. 

Not trusting his own eyes, he looked through the text lines once again. Everything is correct. His mind was still serving him well. There is no mistake possible. Large letters and words “notice”, “fortune”, a name of his sister, living abroad, and a sum of one hundred thousand dollars were the last things that twisted in his consciousness that day. His legs gave away and he felt down, unconscious.

A rising sun could be seen in a building’s windows …




31.10.2010




Warrior of Odin


The loud roar - a furious war-call filled the area and forced to shudder, apparently, even the sky. Hundreds and hundreds of warriors were running towards each other, dressed in sparkling chain armors and inexhaustible fighting passion was sparkling in their eyes. There was neither doubt, nor fear - only a thirst of battle and a war fury - to kill the enemy before you fall on the battlefield yourself. But those who have fallen in a fair fight are winners already, they are destined to enter the sparkling halls of Valhalla and the almighty Odin himself will lead them into new battles forevermore. Let him guide them into this struggle for their enemies to fall before the power of the mighty Odin!

A blow - a turning. A turn - a strike. The joy filled him - finally a battle which he has thirsted for so long, a decent struggle once more! A waving of hand - battle axe falls upon a helmet of the enemy - and he heavily falls to the ground. Another swing - and a blow of monstrous force dissects a chain armor of one more. Drops of blood, streaming from a body of the enemy … repeated blow - and a new enemy has fallen. Here his fighting comrade swings too - and practically splits in two parts another foe.

There were no rules here - and more nimble and crafty sometimes prevailed. A sword, which has fallen flatwise on a back of his battling friend … some sort of squeezed rattle, coming from his throat. Here his comrade falls on a knee, trying to turn and strike back the attacker - but the attacker, who have sneaked from behind, strikes again, this time with the edge of his blade - and it breaks off chain armor plates … One more instant - and everything is finished.

In such instants he ceased to feel the pain. He ceased to feel weight of his weapon, for the hundredth time striking into iron plates, he ceased to feel time itself. A shout of desperation and pain broke from his breast - pain from the death of his friend with whom he has been diving one bread and hardship of war marching. He has been twisting and twisting his lethal weapon, feeling no weight - and enemies scattered before him. Most brave - or stupid - perished instantly. More careful preferred not to get inside the dance of sparkling steel. But enemies were many and their number has been, apparently, only growing.

Shouts and groans. Sounds of clashing blades. Battle was boiling.

* * *

The battle has been raging for a day - and warriors of Odin have prevailed. Only a hundred warriors from former several thousand …

“Glory to the Great Odin!”- battle shout was carried around, once the last enemy has fallen. 

“Glory to the Odin!” - many warriors repeated in an echo, him including. They have won the battle, they have prevailed once more. Their fallen brothers will stand in the light halls before the Great Father - for new battles and new victories. And one day he will meet them too …

* * *

He moaned. In powerless fury punched a table with such a force, that it has almost collapsed half-in-half.

Why, why, why? Why should he do that? Words fell into silence and were dissolved in it without a trace. Words were gone - yet his inner voice did neither abandon him, nor give a chance to rest. No longer a voice of the warrior of Odin.

Monastery. Why should they attack this monastery? This is unworthy battle! Murder of innocent ones for the sake of looting of stronghold’s treasures …

And he, he must lead his hundred-warriors squad - only to see how monks fall under blows of axes and swords, having lifted their crosses highly and begging their unknown to him god for protection … This will be a massacre instead of a battle - bloody slaughter because of avidity. And he, one of the best, will be their leader… and he cannot refuse for the price for that deed is a death and eternal damnation, forever depriving the one from entering into the golden chambers of Odin. Why doesn’t he have a choice? Why must he exterminate defenseless ones - not warriors in any sense?

Or must he?

He roared in powerless frenzy. Swept up on the house. Then grasped an axe and started smashing everything in vicinity. Then somehow ran across a butt with water and tipped a head over there. This helped. He returned to his senses, calmed down.

Has been silently sitting, reflecting. So an hour has passed. Then he has sharply and fitfully risen up, as though having solved for himself a question of utmost importance.

“It is decided”, - he thought clearly, - “it is decided”.

* * *

They were landing ashore from war galleys and he was commanding them - warriors of Odin. Warriors of a god, deadly for their enemies.

And battle shouts and enthusiasms were born once again. His brothers-is-arms were almost the same - yet their enemy was different now … Here the last of warriors is descending on a coast - now he should lead them into battle against yet unaware of their presence defenders of a monastery, that has conveniently arranged itself on a slope of mountains one kilometer away from here.

“Now or never. Now or never”.

“Warriors”, - he cried out. - “Great warriors of Odin, who have won in hundreds and hundreds battles for the glory of our god! We are daring and courageous, and Odin leads us into the righteous battle! The fate of our enemies has already been sealed, for Odin himself directs us!”

A loud shout of approval was his answer.

“But I call to you, warriors. Whether we are going to fight for a worthy purpose for now? Whether a battle that is awaiting us is worthy of the glory of true fighters? We are obliged to destroy foes of ours - but whether they are real enemies for us? We have always battled worthily and have finished battles as conquerors - yet we will not leave this fight as conquerors, brothers! This fight is not ours, it will not lead us to the glory and golden halls. We must not conduct it!”

Rows of warriors started arguing. It seemed as if they all were greatly confused.

“Even one, a single one from you, support me, brothers. At least one courageous enough for that…”

“Yes, Hrothgar said right! This battle is not ours!” - and one of his soldiers stood forward, saying these words. “I too have thought of that when has received my task to go under his command - and I have decided that this fight is not a deserving one. We will find no glory in this battle, but rather kill those who are unworthy to fight against the Warriors of Odin!”

Warriors started whispering among themselves. Some were winding heads in confusion, looking at what others were going to do. Yet this did not continue for long - totally not long. Only several dozens of seconds.

“You are the traitor! You dishonor victorious fighters! You are unworthy of entering the halls and will be forevermore damned for that cowardice!” Another warrior came forward, as if almost spitting out these words in him.

“Betrayer!”, - he repeated and has approached Hrothgar, highly raising his battle axe. But during that moment the one who have supported Hrothgar has blocked his way and unshakably risen up in arms, being ready to fight - or to die. They are really going to die here soon - two against dozens …

And so he spoke again. Convinced them of an error, which they were almost ready to make. Urged them not to start this unworthy battle. Told of better battles and worthy encounters. He tried to find all those words clear for them - speaking their language, which have almost become distant for him.

And while he was speaking, another dozen of soldiers left the ranks and stood nearby him - in their eyes there was the same courage and readiness, if required, to die here - as well as in his own. Yet entire thousands of fighters remained motionless. It seems that they are really going to die today - and be subject to eternal damnation for this apostasy …

“Listen not to this coward and liar! Each one, betraying the mighty Odin in battle is losing the right to enter His halls forever. Cowards are not welcomed in the halls of daring! Let us wipe off these traitors and liars - and start a great battle! Attack, true warriors of Odin!”

Accusatory words once again - and the ardor of warriors is flaming up. Confusion is disappearing from their faces to be replaced by fierceness and pitilessness once more…

“Well, brothers, we have to die here today”, - he mentally addressed eleven true warriors. But they perfectly understood him even without these words - only have stronger seized their weapons in hands and moved closer to him - shoulder to a shoulder.

An instant - and one hundred of warriors is rushing towards them.

An instant - and weapons are clashing.

Instants - are like eternities themselves.

Here twelve warriors stand shoulder to a shoulder, ready for fighting and dying.

Here the first run up foe swings his blade - and his blow is beaten off.

Here more and more enemies are coming - and blades are striking tirelessly - they, these twelve, didn’t feel weariness this day.

Here the first of them is wounded - and they stand closer to protect him inside the formed circle.

His war cry, which was carried far away by a wind. And here the first wave of enemies rolls back from them as from an indestructible barrier. But enemies assault once again - and two more defenders are wounded. Circle closed even tighter and attacks became even more furiously. 

First, second, third, tenth, twentieth … Enemies ran up and were forced back away from them - like from impenetrable wall. But there were many … so many of them … Here only five defenders keep fighting - the others have either been wounded or killed.

Four … three … two …

Only he and the warrior who have first stood for his defense remained. Here he turns to face him - and great wisdom and understanding shines in his eyes. 

“Let us battle, brother!”, - and he stands to his back, protecting.

So, standing back to each other and striking aside incoming blows, they have held for two more minutes. And then almost seven dozens of warriors have crushed them and overwhelmed - and rushed to a monastery, encouraging themselves with wild roars …

* * *

Instant? Eternity? How much time has truly passed?

He didn’t know - only remembered his last fight - one of twelve fighters - and a final blow of pole axe, which have crushed him.

He didn’t die? He didn’t … Enemies have considered him dead and didn’t finish off …

But … if they haven’t managed to resist them … it turns out that monastery has been plundered and razed … They haven’t stopped them, they have failed …

He moaned - even not from incredible pain, swirling throughout all his body, but from an aching sensation of melancholy and grief. They couldn’t stop them… He and eleven nameless warriors …

Having made extreme efforts and cried from a cutting pain, he managed to rise up. About thirty warriors lied motionlessly before him, having silently observing the sky. And among them were his courageous fighters. Died ones … Let they, worthy ones, be not damned, but blessed instead - and find peace in the world they are travelling to now!

He looked around - there was no sign of war galleys. This means that fight has already finished and warriors sailed back home. It means the monastery cannot be saved anymore … But maybe someone managed to survive the attack there. Somebody … even if one of monks is still alive - he is obliged to help him, obliged to come for a rescue - that way he can at least rectify his mistake. Besides, he hasn’t a way back for now, he is both the exile and a cursed one - damned by his own people … let they consider him as dead instead.

Still constraining groans from intolerable pain, he rose up and slowly started walking in the direction of monastery. One thousand meters, just one thousand meters … his debt.

He walked and fell. Then rose and walked again. And fell again. Then he started creeping by the ground.

Probably, a day passed. Possibly, a whole eternity instead. He knew not - he had one purpose and one way for now - and he was walking it. Even being practically flat-out - was still walking. And when at the long last strong walls of a monastery appeared before his obscured look, he has risen on his weak hands and smiled.

“I have found you at last”, - his lips whispered silently, and he fell unconscious. 

* * *

Quiet sad song. Someone’s hands, sliding on his face. And then - a cold water stream. He groaned and moved.

“Alive!”, - he heard through a veil, enveloping him.

Alive. He lives still. What for, if he wasn’t able to fulfill his duty? What’s the point? He tried to open own eyes - but only some vague red haze welcomed him. Then he closed them and submerged into a dream.

He slept and slept. From time to time he woke up for about ten minutes - and then fell asleep once again. When he has woken up again and tried to open eyes for one more time - the bloody mirage has gone. And then he has vaguely distinguished a human figure inclined over him and heard her voice - a tender voice of the girl.

“Sleep, it’s still too early for you to move. Wounds haven’t yet healed. Sleep”. He didn’t resist a dream.

Then from time to time he woke up to hear her voice again and tried to distinguish her face through a haze - and failed to do that for many times. But that memorial day came once, when he has roused without assistance - and both his sight and hearing have cleared up.

“I have found you at last”, - suddenly almost-forgotten words came up to his mind.

Yes, it was a girl, still very young, probably seventeen - eighteen years old. Only an adult hardness could easily be read in her eyes already. 

 And then he dared to ask.

- Where am I?

- You are in our monastery, - the girl answered. - In my monastery, - she added and sobbed.

- You … you have helped me … Why?

- You are not from those who have attacked us. I have understood that immediately. Our … my … brothers … have mislead attackers into woods … to find their death there … survived barbarians returned here … and plundered the monastery. All those whom my brothers have overcome in battle remained in the woods - and you have approached the front of monastery walls instead. If you were among the attackers - you wouldn’t even risk doing that. You are not from the ones who have killed my brothers, - she said solidly.

- Y..y..e..s … t..ha..ths … so …, - he uttered quietly with still disobeying tongue.

- Then why have you come here? - and she moved very close to him, studying his face with her demanding sight. 

- I wanted … desired to stop them … and … couldn’t … forgive … forgive me, if you … still can. 

- You wanted to aid us? - her eyes opened widely in surprise, - why is that so? You are a one of their kind … you have stood against them?

- I … couldn’t …. allow … slaughter …., - words came out very slowly and hardly from his throat.

- But it had taken place nevertheless … However, what difference does it make for now! Take a rest, sleep - and tell me the rest afterwards.

She was right, he required a rest now - lots of resting - and thus he plunged into that attractable dream once more.

* * *

He woke up and felt her warm hand lying on a forehead.

He decided to keep his eyes closed - only tried to listen to her measured breathing. When at last he opened them - she removed her hand from his forehead, and brought a sponge to his face, impregnated with something cold.

- Woke up, did you? - this time her voice was much more affable, than the last time, - alright, stand up, now you should be quite able to do it.

He tried to rise - and for the first time in many days his body obeyed him. He sat down on a bed and with a cleared sight looked at her. She was surprisingly beautiful - at least she should be considered as such by the measures of her people. Fair hair were stretching down to shoulders, smile was playing on her lips - for the first time in many days. Her eyes reflected own vivacity and at the same time some form of adult firmness. A white robe she was wearing.

- H … how much did I sleep?

- A week, for almost a week you have remained here. Ate very little, has been practically sleeping for all day long. You, probably, don’t even remember that for now - minutes should have passed for you, I guess.

- W … why have you helped me?

- You strived to help us, after all, yes? Even if you … if it wasn’t possible for you - you still weren’t among these barbarians. I was obliged to lend you aid, it was my personal debt. Oh, if only you have come here in time … were in time … but what could you possibly do against one hundred of fighters …

- N … not alone. I wasn’t battling them alone … there were … twelve of us. They all … died. 

Following these words tears came out on his coarse cheeks - but he hasn’t allowed himself such inexcusable weaknesses before at all. 

Girl smiled somehow sadly and with a hope at the same time.

- All in all, there are still those men on earth who haven’t lost their heart, still they do exist. A pity you couldn’t help us. But what twelve soldiers could make against one hundred …

- You said previously, that your brothers have died …

- Yes, barbarians slaughtered them all. I was the only sister of this monastery … and the only survived one. Only to mourn over their death.

And she, despite all external firmness, started crying.

- How have you survived then? Haven’t they touched you?

- I … have hidden in a monastery. We had … a secret … entrance … and tunnel, leading from a monastery, - she was speaking, still sobbing, - I have survived a storm in there, how my father has ordered me … However, this storm has destroyed everything close to my heart …

It seemed that she would be totally overwhelmed by her grief from returning memories. He stretched his hand and took her hand in own palms. May she know she’s not lonely in this world still …

They have been sitting quietly, having strongly compressed hands of each other. So ten minutes passed. Finally she managed to calm down.

- Have a rest, warrior, - she whispered silently and left the room.

* * *

The first day, the second, the third … Week, another, third …

He finally completely recovered from his wounds and they have got a possibility to talk every evening. She missed these simple human conversations greatly now - and so did he. They shared a same trait in this - they both have become exiles, both lost their relatives.

Gradually she started to come visiting him more often. When she, suddenly, started remembering of these memorable grief days of her recent past - he consoled her. Sometimes she asked him to tell of his former battles - and listened to what he was saying with such an attention and care, which he hasn’t noticed in any woman before.

Then their days of joint walks on monastery vicinities have come. These were remarkable days - bright and sunny days of spring. Winter snow has finally thawed - and has apparently taken away all worries with him. It was a wonderful time. Perhaps, one of the best in both his and her lives.

They were standing, having embraced, under a crone of some tree, through foliage  of which a sun was playing with its beams on their faces. He was saying these words that moment - ones of his heart. He has sworn that they will never part ways and always, forever, both in life and death - will be together.

Eternally will be together. Forever.

With her, unique her - he has truly fallen in love. Unlike he loved anyone else he loved her. He is still loving her. And will always be - in life - and in death.

* * *

- Get ready! Move away! Ignite!

The flame rushed upwards, desperately trying to devour in a flash of time a tenacious piece of a tree together with a man, bounded to it. Here its tongues are coming closer and closer - already dancing before his eyes. Soon it will all come to an end. It ends all so very soon …

Their common happiness didn’t last for long.

A new raid of his horde came a year after - and only two defenders remained to protect the monastery - he and she.  They have been captured - and he was recognized. At first they have considered him as the Messiah - a one revived from dead - but shortly afterwards someone has declared that he simply hasn’t managed to thrust this traitor through a breast well enough with his axe. He didn’t observe the one speaking these words - only his voice seemed somehow very familiar to him …

Traitors are never forgiven. Death is the fate of theirs. Through burning. Unprecedented execution for his people - they were usually killed in a fair fight. Probably he didn’t even deserve such a fight judging by his brothers’ decision - only a stab in the back.

She too must be burned to the death - as his accomplice - and that was the most terrible thing of all. But, as it came out, not for her - only not for her.

-          I will remain with you forever - remember? In life and in death.

-          In life and in death - always, - he answered. And they embraced - for the last time in this life.

She was dragged away. Then she was fastened with iron ropes to a same pillar. And then a fire was ignited.

The flame assaulted with blinding and burning waves, devouring its legal victim. But the pain wasn’t felt any longer. Two burning pillars. Two courageous persons.

-          Together - forever! - he cried out with all remaining powers.

-          Always! - her words reached his ears.

A new impact of elements - and they both have disappeared in the fire.

The crowd was shouting in ecstasy.

And only few ones, who have turned away from this fire-site, swore to themselves - were giving a sacred oath of true warriors - to never in their lives allow such a thing anymore. To struggle for justice. Always. Only these few ones have seen, how two light spirits have soared high from burning columns. How they embraced and smiled to each other - and have risen up to the heavens.

-          Together - forever, - they have overheard.

-          Always, - repeated they.




09.04.2012




When whirlwind comes


Oh my God, that is so exciting! At the long last I have met a girl, whom I have fallen in love with. I already started to believe more and more, that this is totally impossible, that I will never find a person, close to my spirit, in this world of yours. Tens of acquaintances - and nobody, no one, who had at least close to mine world outlook. It seemed, that hope had almost left my heart and, as far as I could remember, I even began to convince myself that, probably, such way of things is absolutely inevitable and I, whether I desire it or not, should better accept it – to reconcile with it as with something so much stronger than me.

Amazing, that’s truly amazing – the spark of hope has practically died out … and during this very instant, when I have already almost ceased to trust in possibility of a miracle - it has come true!

Lovely, nice, wonderful girl … surprisingly spiritually close to me. How did it happen that we have found each other at last? Just a few minutes back or forward - and we - knowing nothing about what we are creating, would, possibly, pass by, having never looked on each other. And we would never meet again that way … we would never meet for certain. And then I would definitely finally lose last bits of hope.

Oh, how much do I thank you, God, for hearing my prayers!

Today we were passing through a park - and a rain started pouring all of a sudden. We both have no umbrellas on hands so had to urgently search for some tree of impressive size to have a chance for a cover under its mighty crone. This just-in-time rain made both of us even more intimate.

While we have been waiting for it to finish, laughing at how funny we managed to wet through in the rain during our joint travels, we had the time to talk a lot. I truly wasn’t mistaken - this girl had views very similar to mine or, to be more precise, she has been living by them. I had no idea how to describe that sensation which has grown in me during those fifteen-twenty minutes of our conversation. Have you ever felt sometimes that you have met your second half? That you, formally knowing each other for a shortest time span, have felt each other for a whole eternity? That a man, now standing close to you, understands you from a half-word, for so similar are your thoughts and so close are consciousnesses? If you felt this even a single time in your life, you would understand those sensations and feelings of which I speak.

And then the rain has come to an end - just as suddenly as it has begun - and we have continued our way, entering crowded city streets. We have been crossing them time and again, periodically turning back and forth - up hill and down dale, for we had something so much more appealing - we enjoyed a company of each other.

Then I (protesting in spirit against rules of actions, imposed to me by a society, but wishing to make her a pleasant thing) invited her to a cinema - and she refused. She told that it would be much better to return to that park which has made our day, instead of sitting in a stuffy hall, watching silly comedies or bloody action movies.

The girl refused a cinema. According to all that stereotypes, carefully constructed in consciousness of men, that was … strange, to say the least. Yet it seemed to me as if I understood her deeply during those instants of time.

And then we indeed returned to that rainy park, by that time already dried up by the rising sun. We were sitting together with her on a park bench and chatting. Those were wonderful moments of time, and I still cannot forget them.

I have no will to forget three months of our dating. I cannot forget her shining smile, as well as her during these moments - full of joy and happiness. Never will I forget our first kiss. I won’t cease remembering all our instants of time together with each other.

For even now I dare not forget my true love. Even … now.

* * *

I met a second girl purely by accident.

This happened just in time when I have been dating with my Tatyana. We were wandering through a park that day - were crossing a street when she came out of nowhere. 

When we have almost overtaken over each other, both Tatyana and the girl, going towards us, have smiled and approached each other with a greeting. It appeared that the girl we have was Larissa, Tanya’s colleague on work. 

They started chatting. I patiently awaited.

Approximately ten minutes after they said goodbye to each other, and Larissa went own way. Passing us by, she glanced at me and said aloud “And your guy is beautiful indeed …”, and Tanya answered that she’s a truly happy girl for now. 

This day we didn’t encountered Larissa any more. And two weeks after I received I call from her on my office phone number.




* * *




Still wondering, how did she manage to get my office number. But apparently for ones such as she there are no things that cannot be broken in her wake to a selfish goal.

Then her constant one-after-another calls started along with a meetings offers. Threats were used after my tenth refusal. I don’t give a shit on her threats - I love … loved? Only Tanya.

I love just Tanya, only her! Oh my God, I have no desire to cause her harm, for I do love her! When will those torments finally end?! Her! Her … only … her …

Her threats were various. The last one was to “take me by force”, as she used to say. I wished her in, probably, the twentieth time to find another man who will fall in love with her and told her that there cannot be anything between me and her. Then she answered that if I am incapable to fall in love with her by the will of my own heart, then I shall do so by her own desire - and hanged up.

That was the beginning of that nightmare in which I have been living till now. Month after Larissa’s last call I and Tatyana have sworn. We have sworn!

Never, never, never before anything similar between us was ever imaginable - that was simply inadmissible … but the fact remains - a month later after mentioned events we have sworn. The reason was of purely of household nature, I still cannot understand how have I allowed myself such a tone?

For I do love her …!

That was the beginning of our constant quarrels.

I have no idea what overcame me those moments - I ceased to be true self. Wild, spiteful, aggressive … and always - every time I came home from work I found what to punish her for!

And first she tried to go on compromises, but after numerous repeats of my attacks she only started to cry further. Something pushed me even greater in these moments, I saw how she was crying … how she’s grieved … no, how she’s weak! - and thirsted to hit her even seriously! More painfully, more rigidly! So that she remember it well for the rest of her life! To let her know how’s that - to contradict me!

Silly bitch! Stupid girl! Idiotic woman! How was that ever possible for me to fall in love with her?! Vainglorious nasty creature!

Beast!

Oh my God, what’s the bullshit I am writing now? How do I dare thinking that way of my … beloved … girl?!

Beloved …

My beloved … dear … I know that you hear me even now, when we have become so distant from each other … forgive me for these lines … I had no desire … I don’t know what’s going on with me … feeling so hard … as if something presses on me, trying to flatten - time and again, methodically and persevering … I ceased to comprehend whether it’s I supervise myself, or someone unfamiliar to me controls me at present …

Ta … ta … nya … forgive, forgive me … if … you still can.




* * *




Our quarrels became the begging of the end of our relations - and mine - ours? - dream. At first I beat her with words - and then started beating with fists. And that was the last drop in a bowl of her patience. She sued for divorce - and we parted our ways.

We left each other … nay! - I have thrown away that silly woman! Yes! She made a right choice to clean wherever ones wishes! Oh my, such a mollycoddle! Gorgeous bitch!

There are women so much better than her! Indeed! … much … better.




* * *




Today I am going to meet my beloved Larissa once more. How much do I miss her … No more nasty Tatyanas - I desire only Larissa! I thirst for her … desire to be with her.

Yes, yes, yes! We shall be happy together - for we do love one another!




* * *




I … I … I know not … Sometimes … from time to time it seems to me, that I have no love for my Larissa … That … that it’s sort of a nightmare, that … that our love never existed … Oh, how dare I doubt that? I banish thee, nasty thoughts! Certainly, I do love her!




* * *




Today it was sweet … so … sweet. We loved each other … we were the one. I feel her body shyly shudders … I saw her closing the eyes in pleasure … and I blew up. We kissed and kissed each other endlessly - and couldn’t help doing another … Merged into a single whole. Oh, how truly sweet that was. 

So who dared to say that I and Larissa do not complement each other? We were born to be a single whole!




* * *




Today Tanya came to me in my sleep. Tanya … my beloved Tanya …

Damnation! That devilish sentimentality comes again!

For a thousand times already I have come to a conclusion that my meeting with Tanya was but a monstrous mistake in my fate and I have no desire to rethink it over and over again. I love Larissa and only her.

Or … or maybe not?




* * *




No! For how long must I sustain it! How many torments are still awaiting me?! When will we stop to quarrel at last?! To finally talk heart-to-heart? Why … why does something constantly pulls me to her … why, why I cannot expel these feelings … this passion and inclination?!

I write of this now only to catch myself on a thought about her again … No way!!!




* * *




That’s a pure nightmare, a horror, a delusion! I am being torn apart - I have no love for her - but still being invisibly pulled to her! What sort of a terrible inclination is that, when have it born?

We are totally opposite, different with her - and we do not fit to each other! Why can’t I help thinking about her, can’t help visiting her each day after my work, cannot forget her?

Why can’t I forget her as a horrific dream?!




* * *




Today we quarreled once more. She said that doesn’t want to behold me any longer - and turned out. Muttered something about some grandma that cheated her, having closed the door, and swore.

And then I slept on a street. She finally accepted me back after a day, having cursed for decency. Strange … am I starting to like her insults?

No, I can’t bear it any longer! It all ends today. Today - or never!




* * *




The headache is becoming stronger with each passing moment and this itching pain starts spreading gradually over the body. Just one thing pleases me - today all legal formalities will be settled - and at the long last we will cease to be a husband and a wife any longer.

But how am I going to live for now without her - my faithful Larissa?!

Have I truly gone mad or does it just seems to me? Probably I am truly ill. Need to take a walk - fresh air will surely help me.

No, I definitely have no desire to live that way!




* * *




A lonely man, going along the street - his eyes are slightly closed and right hand keeps for a head. He’s being swayed here and there - from apart it almost seems that he’s simply yet another drunk individual. But those passers-by, who accidentally looked into these semi-covered eyes, rejected all those improper thoughts of him as another debauchee - for these eyes had practically no pupils - pupils had decreased to abnormal sizes and such a mortal melancholy lapped in them, that involuntary lookers immediately backed off.  

A read traffic light - and cars begin their movement.

However, some unsteady man almost sees them not - as if he’s not able to see a red light, blocking the way … Now he has almost crossed half of the roadway …

“Watch out, red light!” - a shout of pedestrians reaches him - and a man starts turning to face the speaker.

Brakes, pressed against the stop. A squeal of rubber on the ground … A man starts turning towards the approaching car - and his eye pupils starts widening …

A crash.




* * *




- So, what happened to your friend?

- He died in a road accident … the car brought him down. Craniocereberal trauma and brain’s hemorrhage. When he has been transported to a hospital, he was already dead.

- I deeply regret.

- I know. These words are unnecessary.

- Как думаешь, почему он погиб?

- What are your thoughts of the cause of his death?

- I cannot judge for certain. Something strange was going on with him recently - and he became beside himself. Divorced from his wife Tatyana and married Larissa. To tell the truth, I couldn’t understand his choice - they were totally different. From the time of his divorce with Tanya he ceased to contact me anymore, despite our previous warm friendship. I still not fully understand what made him take those rash steps.

- And how are now Tatyana and Larissa fare, do you know?

- Tatyana married another man and moved to a different city - I know nothing of her further destiny. And as for Larissa … Larissa died. She was killed.

A speaker sighted.

- Some maniac trapped her in a lane, when she was coming back home. Raped at first, and then cut with a knife. A body was found in a cellar of one of the next building approximately a week after the events.

- It’s all that terrible.

- Yes, very sad indeed.

- Still that doesn’t explain the motives of his behavior several months prior to his death.

- Yes, it doesn’t. However - and speaking man smiled - I guess I have some clue.

And having that said he took out a small pile of papers from his portfolio.

- Here, take it. This is a diary he has been writing - or at least that part which I have managed to get my hands on, when levy of execution was being performed. I didn’t look it through yet, but if you seem so interested in the question of his motives … here, take it and read, probably you’ll be able to find an answer there.

- Yes, let me take a look at that thing.

And a man opened the pages …




13.07.2011




Notes of the Nameless One





Ahead into the past


Step, step, step.

His feet were carrying him forward - there where he has once spent ten years of his life - ten long years … Here he came out of a next street’s turn and stopped - sighted joyfully and with a relief.

Yes, he has come at the long last - after ten years of separation he returned back to his native school, to people who have given him so much - helped make the first steps, supporting and encouraging him …

So, he has come, returned to his memoirs in reality. Only after ten years of separation life has finally granted him this chance. After all, he was just a little child when he once crossed this threshold - small helpless one, needing protection and aid of others … now he could defend others himself. Approached a school building - and almost instantly was plunged into a joyful and carefree atmosphere of childhood - the time which he spent in a work, and not entertainments. Entertainments … he smiled. A pure waste of time - burning the precious gift of life, a substitute for idlers. And he wasn’t such a one - like a lot of other men he knew. He distinctly remembered for now how he has spent this time working … nay, not in that silly cramming, but clever study instead - and learned to find a joy in that.

And others … other men did other choices - theirs. Someone - one close to his, someone completely different. Big and small, important and not quite so. Nay, important ones - there are no things insignificant. They built their own life - everyone his own way - as they desired, as considered it necessary, as it was convenient for them. In a word, everyone was walking his own path - they had the right.

Someone drank beer and smoked cigarettes. Somebody endless played football, spending his time for all day long on a stamped asphalt of a stadium. Some crammed thick correct textbooks. Shortly, everyone was going his own way he has chosen.

A step, and another one, and lots of more steps - rising on old ladders of an old building. First, second, third floor … stop. 

He will first meet his former class teacher, and then the rest of them. A knock at the door - and a painfully familiar, yet considerably grown old woman’s face. A warm smile on his face - and the woman answers him with the same. She recognizes him and welcomes, obviously glad to meet him - and so does he. 

A conversation starts - a long talk which, it appeared, will last for an eternity. He was talking about those ten years of his new life, as well as of old school one, - the way he understood and felt it for now. That conversation lasted and lasted - he was speaking, and she was carefully and attentively listening to. And a vice versa a short time after.

It became late then - and they have said goodbye. He promised to come back to school from time to time. He indeed returned the upcoming day to meet with other teachers. That was the smallest deed possible for him to thank them for what they have once done - to remember them … and sometimes, at least sometimes to visit again.

And the time to leave came once. To return back to his institute in a different city. A last farewell waving of hand - and in a way. In a way.




* * *




Knocking of iron wheels. Measured rocking of train’s apartment. A whistle of wind through a slightly opened window. Sleepy passengers. Somebody’s fluffy cat, making his impressive strolling through a salon.

- Barsik, - he called. - Come here.

But the cat only slowly raised a tail, turned his body and started moving in the opposite direction. A funny being.

Now he was returning to the town when he has graduated from the institute and has been working. A next stop … a methodical voice of the driver … entering and leaving passengers. A face - this familiar face … one of his school friend. The man was wandering directly towards him- with some sort of unseeing and roving glance he was scouting the surroundings … a tired face of emaciated man. Here’s the man sat down nearby and hasn’t recognized him at all - yet they have studied together for such a while! Studied at one school …

- Ivan, - he called. - Ivan, hi. Didn’t you recognized me ? No ?  I’m Pavel. We have studied in one class! Have you truly forgotten?

- Pavel … Oh, yes … hi. Hi, - repeated Ivan and looked away to face the window.

Heart of his missed a bit and compressed painfully. What’s that, what has happened?! Not like that, in a totally different way did he image the meeting of friends! Has something dreadful befallen? He has to find out!

- Ivan, are you not glad to see me? What’s that with you, Ivan? You don’t look like yourself. Where has this cheerful and sociable guy whom you once were gone? I know, I am assured that you are still that one, just a bit depressed, right? You are simply tired after all, yes? Come on, tell me a bit about yourself - or let me tell you about myself. Let’s remember the past and our old good days. Aye? Ivan, Ivan, wake up!

And he has shaken him by shoulders.

Stop … no need to … shaking. Sss…stop …, - hardly moving a tongue he murmured in reply. - I recognized … y … you. Leave … leave me be … with my … p … p … pain. Don’t in … inte … interfere, I b … beg you.

- But what, what has happened?! Ivan, you know - I have never abandoned you in trouble, never - and never did you, we have always aided one another, each and every time! You couldn’t forget that all, couldn’t … I would not believe that! Do you hear me - I dare not believe that you have forgotten!

- The w … wi … wife abandoned me. And work … was … fired - Ivan’s words finally reached Pavel’s ears.

He sighted. And when people finally learn to concern life’s circumstances easier and not to give up before them? After all the life simply opens a new blank page, where the writings of their life is to be imprinted - a next stage of life. Why’s bitter about that? One must be able to say goodbye with no insults and part ways - easily. It’s necessary to be able to learn vital lessons and overcome barriers - no growth and evolution is ever meant possible without it.

He overlooked his friend over again. All right, looks like the time has come to use heavy offensive means.

- Divorced with a wife? Have been discharged from the office? What sort of nonsense is that?! And you have become limp? Like a wet mitten?! But you will no doubt find a better job! And talking of the wife - she’s not your property, right? She has made her choice - accept it, accept no matter how cruel in relation to you it could look. It’s not rigid - it’s you perceive it as such for you have become too attached to her and started to consider her as own property. She’s a free person and has made her choice - the one she deemed necessary. With her good luck!

He wasn’t completely assured that his speech will be apprehended and comprehended at once. He had a different main goal for now - to stir up a friend. And thus he continued speaking - parried ridiculous and eccentrical attacks, inspired him, convinced that everything is in his powers. He thirsted to help his friend … wanted that he finally learned to help himself and had no more need for aid from the outside.

They were talking - and his friend was crying. He started to cry when they began talking of his life and analyze it. He cried of former dreams and hopes which have not come true. Cried of a pure and crystal love which he desired to find - and which he couldn’t … for he did search outside, while it was necessary to seek in own heart.

He was talking of how he has come under the influence of former friends who couldn’t be considered as such - how he started drinking. How he didn’t has enough willpower and stopped short, has given in and started falling into the abyss. How the wife, no more reconciled with constant binges of her husband has thrown him aside and left for another man … departed without even trying to help. How with his own hands did he tore and crumbled dreams of family happiness, of mutual love - and how began to go to bars and night clubs. How he possessed a new woman each new day - a woman for a day … something pleasant to lie in bed with … not a person for him. How he tried to interrupt his life and start another one, but always couldn’t find enough power inside, for he has ceased to believe in him different - and has already given himself up as a bad job. 

He was speaking, and his friend was listening to. They took lessons which Ivan should have taken a long time ago. Were talking about a choice he has made - a wrong … not the best one - and of a choice of different nature. A choice of life instead of death, a choice of happiness yet not sadness - a choice of joy in place of grief.

For a long time they have been sitting together - and under a stream of warm, powerful and convincing words his friend finally calmed down. Believed in himself - and an unshakable conviction to change his life by all means reflected itself upon his face. He’s a strong one. He’s capable. He will do that. Most certainly will.

Warm words of gratitude … happy smiles. A farewell.

-          Farewell, Ivan!

-          See you, Pavel!

Knocking of wheels. Measured rocking of the train. A cat, gracefully moving through a salon. He was approaching his city. He greatly hoped that he has managed to aid his friend … so greatly hoped.

They were approaching a city. Life was opening a new blank page in the book with his own writings.

17.08.2011




Definitions


Brand – it’s when you pay for what you have never had and what you will never had, for what you desire to have, even though you are not the slightest idea of how it looks like.




* * *




Life – is a special kind of game. Everything you have won in it once you once have to lose. Everything that you cannot win, remains with you forever.




* * *




Hope – is a defeat of Love before Belief. 

Love – is a victory of Hope over Belief.




* * *




Happiness – is when we are being understood and are relieved from necessity to understand others.

Unhappiness – is when we do not understand that we cannot be understood.




* * *




Mind – is an ability think up a way reducing time of calculation of quantity of stars in the sky and drops in the sea in tens of times.

Reason – is an ability to understand that such calculation is not required at all.




* * *




Irritation – is when you have no desire to harm yourself and another, but can do it.

Anger – is when you have desire to harm yourself and another, and can do it.

Fury – is when you no longer want to harm yourself and another, but cannot stop anymore.

Hatred – is when you are not capable to understand that you can not harm yourself and another.




* * *




Joy – is when all around seems extraordinary.

Grief – is when only joy seems extraordinary.




* * *




Light – is when it seems that the darkness is no more.

Darkness – is when is seems that Light has never been.




* * *




Happiness – is when you want, but cannot.

Unhappiness – is when you can, but no longer want.




* * *




Childhood – is when it seems that all are for you.

Youth – is when it seems that you are for all.

Maturity – is when it seems that each one is for each one.

Old age – is when you understand that each one is primary for himself.




* * *




Hope – is when you want to believe that it will be so.

Faith – is when you want to hope, that it will be so.

Love – is when you know, that it cannot be any other way.




* * *




Life – is when it seems that death will never come to you.

Death – is when you hardly have time to realize that were mistaken for entire life.




* * *




Fool – the one who knows that life is meaningless.

Wise man – the one, who can find his secret meaning in this meaningless.




* * *




Paradise – is when is seems to you that your most sacred dreams start to come true.

Hell – is when they have come true.




* * *




Paradise – is what was before us.

Hell – is what we have done.




* * *




Clever things – everything that is difficult

Trifling things – everything, that is simple

Ingenious things – everything, that is clever and trifling

Silly things – everything that is trifling and not clever

Reasonable things – everything that is trifling and ingenious




* * *




Wisdom is a power function, where life experience serves as its basis, and your reason serves as its exponent.




* * *




Beauty – is what demands sacrifices.

Ugliness – is the result of made sacrifices.




* * *




Art – a socially acceptable way of individual’s self-expression.




* * *




Reflection – infinite process of generation of nothing from nothing.




* * *




Self-perfection – endless, periodically interrupted and renewed process, similar to the attempt to measure depth of the river to be crossed, while standing on the land.




* * *




Irony – is when you would like to mock at something, but due to certain reasons you cannot do it fully.




* * *




Friendship – is an attempt to find in other something that you cannot find in yourself.




* * *




Books – transcendental objects. Similar in appearance, they possess absolutely different essence. Once having known any of them, you still cannot tell for sure what character will is possess after a while.




* * *




Treachery – is a process of divergence of individual’s actions with our expectations, concerning these actions.




* * *




Optimist – a person, whose believes that everything that happens is for the best.

Pessimist – a person, who, seeing everything that happens, have no desire to see this “best”.




* * *




Humor – a way of life for optimist and a medicine for pessimist.




* * *

Psychology – a science about what we are, why we are the ones we are, and why we don’t even need to try to become not the ones we are.




* * *




Socionics – a science about those ones, who are strongly prohibited from becoming not the ones they are.




* * *




Politics – a science about how to become the one, whom you are strongly prohibited from becoming.




* * *




Marketing – a science about how to convince another that he needs something that he has no need at all.




* * *




Management – a science about how to find an ideal combination of spice-cake with a whip.




* * *




Human’s biology – a science about what we are, why we are what we are, and what will occur inside us when we will become not that what we are.




* * *




Philosophy – a science about what is and what is not, but can either be or not be, and about what could be, if there was no what is, and couldn’t be what could be.




* * *




Medicine – a science about how we can become what we were, if suddenly we start becoming not what we are.




* * *




Genetics – a science of how to transform something we are and something we were not into something we desire to be,  but what we should not be.




* * *




Diplomacy – a science of how to send away others so that they still remained grateful.




* * *




Statistics – a science of how the majority lives.




* * *




Show business – a science of in what way the minority lives.




* * *




Suicide – a way to forever close the eyes before a horde of self-made problems.




* * *




Eternal life – what we could have, if every moment of our life became infinitely long and wonderful.




* * *




Paradise in a tent – social illusion, caused by application of the given term to too small spaces.




* * *




Happiness – a realized necessity.




* * *




Human – special kind of angels, who cut their own wings soon after own birth.




* * *




Health – something that is not felt until it vanishes; something that, having vanished, can be restored back only with hard work; something, whose vanishing makes lives of ones similar to never-ending torment, and lives of others – similar to breakthrough.




* * *




Life – a process, similar with mountain racing : others show you one third of a path upwards, two thirds of remained path you rise yourself; and when descent time comes – for hold your breath for an instant, and then rush downwards, all the way mentally begging the God to help you not to fall down on such speed, and thus the way downwards is same in length as the way upwards, but requires tens times less. And when you have safely finished your descent – you have already completely forgotten details of the first third of climbing upwards and descending downwards, but cannot forget details of own two thirds climbing uphill.




* * *




Democracy – a rule of miserable over the blessed.




* * *




Human’s essence – what is remained when last hope disappears.




* * *




Kindness – the ability to substitute a second cheek after a blow on the first and say “Stop it”.

Love – the ability to intercept a hand, trying to give a slap in the face, and say “Stop it”.




* * *




Modesty – a springboard for wisdom.




* * *




Misfortune – what remains when the happiness is forgotten.




* * *




City – a home for those with gregarious mind.

Nature – a home for those with lonely mind.

Prison – a home for those with hardened mind.

Church – a home for those with aged mind.

Life – a home for those voluntary mad.




* * *




Success – a consequence of the fact that you were in time.

Failure – a consequence of the fact that you didn’t want to be in time.




* * *




Publicity – is when you are written about in newspapers.

Popularity – is when you are spoken about.

Fame – is when they can’t help speaking and writing about you.

Modesty – is when you understand all senselessness of publicity, popularity and fame.




* * *




Trust – what goes before belief.

Belief – what follows trust.

Experience – what remains after unjustified trustfulness and beliefs.




03.10.2010




Denying self-portrait


I am not passive – I simply chose my goals carefully.

I am not zealot – I believe in the victory of human reason.

I am not aggressive – it’s hardly possible to speak differently with unreasonable ones.

I am not romanticist – I simply love life.

I am not a meek creature – it’s just useless to shout in a room alone.

I am not lonely – I am simply not part of the crowd.

I am not liar – I simply do not tell all the truth.

I am not reserved – I am simply not egocentric.

I am not rigid – there are simply times when one needs to be strong.

I am not defenseless – there are simply times when it’s required to pretend to be weak.

I am not silly – sometimes it’s simply necessary to deny common reason. 

I am not uneasy – life simply demands movement.

I am not gloomy – I happen to be similarly “normal” sometimes.

I am not shy – my spirit simply soars too high sometimes.

I am not egoist – it’s simply necessary to think about myself sometimes

I am not pessimist – sometimes I simply forget to be happy.

I am not slave – it’s simply necessary sometimes to work for others.

I am not enemy – someone simply desire war sometimes.

I am not friend – someone simply desire to find allies in war sometimes.

I am not silent – I simply carefully select words.

I am not cynic – sometimes I simply call things by their proper names.

I am not insensible – sometimes it’s simply necessary to be closed from idly curios.

I am not mad – I simply do not always meet other’s expectations.

I am not indifferent – not all tears are simply true.

I am not impudent – it’s simply necessary to be the proprietor from time to time.

I am not helpless – it’s simply pleasantly to go down the stream sometimes.

I am not bored – someone simply does not understand from the first time sometimes.

I am not haughty – simply not everyone is capable to understand my language.

I am not warrior – it’s simply necessary to battle sometimes.

I am not hero – the times simply demand so.




27.09.2010




Extremism


Let’s try to imagine how a notorious political action of last centuries could look like, being presented by a mass media channel, loyal to current political powers

Petrashevsky case in the eyes of modern pro-imperious mass media (ironical sketch)

All names aren’t invented, all coincidence could be casual, all meanings are meaningful by definition

Plot of the day

Greetings, our respected televiewers!

And we do remind you that today a court has taken place in the matter of bandit group of the terrorist Petrashevsky. Let’s remind our televiewers that very recently thanks to a denunciation of operatively introduced by intelligence services in the network of terrorist group agent I.P.Liprandi, they managed to uncover the extremist and undermining nature of activity of mentioned underground organization, after which policemen within their operative operation of interception detained all rank-and-file members of this group, including Sergey Durov, Alexander Palm, Alexey Pleshcheev, Feodor Dostoevsky. Other so-called cultural figures of literature and arts, including M.E.Saltykov-Schedrin, N.G.Chernyshevsky, V. G. Belinsky and A.Maykov are also subject to suspicion. About forty people in total were arrested during that special operation. Let’s note that according to the report of police department which was carrying out that special operation, all suspects didn’t provide any armed resistance to forces of tranquility and law in spite of the fact that according to Liprandi’s report they were considered as very dangerous and well-armed criminals.

Suspects are being incriminated the distribution of materials with extremist contents, including so-called “Belinsky’s letter to Gogol”, as well as development of utopian by definition ideas of the French philosophers and educators, including ideas of socialism, public equality and brotherhood, social justice and some other, which are considered the ones undermining all public state foundations and dogmas, and kindling intra national discord on an interclass sign. A number of statements of mentioned figures concerning ruling party and the president himself are considered to be frankly slanderous. Several philosophical remarks, uttered by some of the members, can also be treated as appeals to violent overthrow of existing political system. Let’s note that drugs were found in apartments of several members of this organization. Suspects argue that drugs were injected by law enforcement bodies, but such statements certainly have no real basis in them. At the present moment all confiscated extremist literature is liable to destruction as being resolutely pernicious for consciousness of citizens of our great country.

All right obedient citizens of our country are enraged by similar obscene tricks of these under-philosophers. The president together with orthodox church and the majority of the patriotically adjusted public resolutely condemned this terrorist organization in a uniform rush and demanded to punish them all according to all severity of the law.

According to today’s judgment, such a desire has been fully fulfilled. Taking into account all severity of the committed crime and absence of any facilitating circumstances, the court sentenced twenty one members of this bandit group to a capital punishment - to deprive them of lives through execution. The sentence will be carried out in the next few days. We welcome all interested parties to look at this surprising and touching event! And may the God help them all…

Thank you, these were all the main news for today. And now, talking of the weather …




17.08.2012




Fish and Lion


One day everything has changed in the Great Desert. For many month the scorching sun was so bright and a heat so intolerable that every source of water, even the largest ones, have dried up. Animals have been confused, they were tormented by thirst. So they have gathered for Great Deserted Council, which was not gathered for almost ten years, to think up a way to rescue from the sun. And each of them came into the Council’s center, and each was questioned by others of how it’s possible to find a salvation, yet nobody could give the answer.

In desperation, animals have called for their last hope – they have summoned a desert Lion into the center of Council, who had a reputation of being most courageous, wise and strong from all of them and by the right was considered their tsar.

- I will find water for all of you, I swear with the honor of the tsar of animals ! – the Lion has growled. – I will find it and I will show you a way.

And, having this said, the Lion has gone on searches of a source of revival, and the rest of animals started waiting for his return.

For many days and nights the Lion tirelessly ran and ran through the desert, driven by a sandy wind and thoughts of his dying comrades and of his debt before them. And when it seemed that his forces have completely left him, a great, boundless and endless ocean has opened before his eyes. 

- At last I have found it ! I have discovered water ! Now we are saved ! – the Lion cried, and with the last bit of strength ran downwards to a coast.

When he at last has managed to creep up to a coast and scooped saving water in paws, he has suddenly noticed a fish, swimming in this water. The Fish played on the sun by all colors of a rainbow, and looked at him, as if studying. 

- Do you desire to drink from my spring ? – she asked suddenly.

- Yes, - the Lion has either growled or whispered. I have been running for many days, my powers have run out, and my comrade are dying from thirst. I have to drink to restore my strength and return to them to inform of this great source of a saving moisture.

- But do you know about its properties ? – a Fish questioned.

- Of what properties are you talking ? – the Lion was surprised. – I see water, and I am going to tell about its source to others. Please, do not weary me, swim away, so I can drink this luring moisture and restore my powers !

- The water, which you are going to drink, may kill you, - replied the Fish.

What a strange fish, - the Lion has thought. How can water kill somebody ?

- To kill me ? Of what death are you talking about ? I have already almost died from thirst,- the  Lion growled. Move aside, let me drink it !

- If you drink from my spring, your thirst will only grow and strengthen, - Fish responded. The more you will drink, the greater your thirst will become.

- But how can you live in this spring of yours and drink from it without dying ? – The tsar of all animals questioned.

- What is death for you, terrestrial ones, - is a birth for us, - she said. We were born in this bitter source – and are destined to spend our entire live in it. It has ceased to be deadly for us – and became our air and now we enjoy it.

- But what am I supposed to do then ? – The Lion inquired. I must help my relatives by any means possible ! I am considered as the strongest and wisest tsar of animals by right !

- You can drink from my spring and rescue them, - the Fish replied. There is a river in the north that runs into this sea – its water can bring you relief. Besides, you can also find my brothers in that river – for we can live even in your waters – who will aid you further. However, this river is far away, and you will hardly manage to reach it.

- Then what options do I still have? – the Lion questioned.

- You will have to drink from my spring, but remember, that your own price for this act can be too high. Waters of my sea will suffice for short duration, so you must travel with haste. However, even if you will finally come to a river, you will probably still not manage to return to your comrades. But my river brothers will help you to bring the message of a river source – but first you should reach it.

- And if I will refuse drinking from this sea ? – the Lion questioned.

- Then, most likely, you will be unable to reach the river, - Fish answered.

For several difficult minutes the Lion lay ashore, not even daring to take a sip of this water. However, when he has dared to do it at last, and has scooped some water in a paw, - it has tasted so bitter that he has immediately spat it out, being unable to bear that taste.

-    No way. To drink from this sea means to die instantly, no matter what the Fish would speak – the Lion has decided. I still have powers, I shall reach that river, for I am the tsar of animals !

And the Lion, exhausted with thirst, having gathered the rest of his forces, has run in the direction, pointed by the Fish.

His forces, however, finally run out after only several hours.

The sun has risen highly once again over the Great Desert – too high for some of the terrestrial ones. After several hours of journey the Lion, exhausted with thirst, has fallen to hot sand, panting. He knew that he was dying. He knew that he failed to fulfill his duty. 

- Damned fish ! – he thought. There are no even signs of a river here, and never was for certain. You have lead me the wrong way, you have killed me ! – he growled. Devil’s ffffffiiiiiissssshhh ! – a loud roar of defeated tsar of animals spread over the desert – and then the desert went silent once again.

Only a sun was still shining the same, only a sandy wind was still blowing, and only waves of great and boundless ocean were romping and splashing somewhere…

And only several hours of journey still remained to the fresh river, feeding the sea … which he could pass, if only has dared to drink from this bitter source …




04.10.2010




How is all that ?


How’s that – to feel, that something invaluable, for which you have been searching for all your life – that you’ve found it at last ?

How’s that – to finally meet Him in private after so many earth years ?

How’s that – to experience His endless love, being poured on us, and see people still hating each other ?

How’s that – to perceive yourself as His warrior, fencing invisible Word blade ?

How’s that – to know, that He is always nearby … just to stretch a hand ?

How's that - to see same warriors, standing nearby, and behold how He smiles to all of you ?

How’s that – to learn of your former path – of your former ways – at last and to observe the new one, revealing before you ? 

How’s that – to be aware of own immortality, and to reborn from ashes time and again as always, like the Phoenix for a new Earth journey ?

How’s that – to feel the higher light warriors of God aiding you – and to hear a quiet whispering of Heavens ?

How’s that – to feel a breathing of Universe inside you and sense a beating of Her heart ?

How’s that – to absorb the Light of another world, penetrating you, and to give it new and new forms ?

How’s that – to hear words of gratitude Firsthand ?

How’s that – to accept a path, intended to you by God, voluntary and to rejoice from its beauty ?

How’s that – to put one’s love into these words, intended to purify human hearts ?

How’s that – to light up human souls and to revive them to new life ?

How’s that - to see in one’s dreams the promised New world, only to wake up in sweat from rough touched of the old one ?

How’s that – to observer, how long-term problems and vital complexities, gathered for years, are dissolved during one short earth span, blown away by a wind of changes, as though they never existed before ?

How’s that – to truly love this world, despite all distortions, brought into it by capricious human mind ?

How’s that – to know, what awaits so many of you and with a grief in one’s eyes observe you approaching the abyss ?

How’s that – to keep whispering of all this to those, who still hear ?

How’s that – to go nip and tuck with those, who, like you, knows and feels all this ?

Oh men, if had only known, how’s all that …




27.10.2010




I feel


I feel I don't belong there, yet this is my world for now.

I feel like I am a sinner and a saint - all in one.

I feel I used to fall, only to rise higher after.

I feel I don't need to repeat the mistakes of the forgotten past again.

I feel I have recently passed through some trial … yet there are more awaiting me on the path.

I feel like I have already experienced all the common pleasures other ones dream of - and found them worthless.

I feel I have forgotten my true nature and lost my past in the labyrinths of lifes.

I feel like I was able to fly somehow, though I can't recall the time.

I feel my road is of rare origin, yet it won't be easy.

I feel many diamonds of the future path are still undiscovered.

I feel my wish for transformation have triggered some fate threads, and I must prove my worth for the Universe.

I feel the Universe is a constantly evolving, living being and we are all bound by some unseen force in it.

I feel I must dive deeper inside me for the past to unfold.

I feel I'm many-faced … so many personalities swirling inside me, constantly fighting for my attention. I am all them - and yet someone different.

I feel I have awakened, yet partially. I won't exists as usual "me" when I will finally dare to open still closed eyes.

I feel I could never awaken even like this, had I to listen to other people's "common sense".

I feel I know the major marks of my path, yet the details are still undetermined.

I feel my goals are right, yet only for me. My own ego must be destroyed in my wake for new essence to be born.

I feel the happiness makes me lighter, yet still I cannot soar.

I feel I can't call any country as motherland and even Earth is not home.

I feel I don't need to belong to any organized group folks, yet I could … just to have some fun examining them.

I feel I could speak more languages, yet now bound to the two, with one sounding so familiar … Did I relearn one of those ?

I feel I could sometimes feel people's emotions flowing around me, unseen by others.

I feel humans do not yet know the inner power they hold, for this knowledge could be dangerous.

I feel the paths of all ones intertwine in a strange ways and there are no random events.

I feel we are all have creativity of some origin, yet many ones buried it to look sane.

I feel some interesting events marking the future of this world are yet to come.

I feel we all have to be better if we are to survive.

I feel I will always be somewhat "out of touch" there, yet I can accept the laws most ones live with … just in case.

I feel somewhat like a child now, yet my mind is of elder.

I feel I will never stop seeking the wisdom, nor do I want to.

I feel I could walk the different direction, yet finally my destination would be the same.

I feel I am still human on the surface - and that is for the better.

I feel my path does never truly end, yet I am glad.

I feel I am being guided, yet cannot see the guide.

I feel I am not the only one who feels like this, yet those ones are few.

I feel I could say more … yet this is sufficient.

I feel I must keep silence … for now.




13.08.2009




Illusions of crowds


You like judging so greatly that it seems as if you know everything of anything in the world around. You are so afraid of admitting own ignorance to anybody ! Probably, you already possess answers to all questions of life … or have you simply ceased searching for them ? Oh, yes – someone else have answered for you ! And thus you allowed them to decide your own destiny.

Certainly, you can console yourselves that you are neither the first, nor the last ones. That there are many ones, similar to you in our distressful world. That all people deceive, dissemble, steal, talk scandal, envy, sneer … Oh, if only such self-justifications had any power at all ! But if someone chooses to go and act together with the majority – whether he doesn’t become its integral part, sharing common responsibility for the choice of crowds ? But it’s so comfortable for many to feel themselves like a small screw, a pawn in a big crowd ! 

How many leaders of crowds has this world seen ? All of them sank into oblivion. Yet the stream of new solvers-for-you, apparently, isn’t going to run low at all. It will never extinguish until you learn to decide for yourselves, listening to a low whisper of own souls. But are people even capable to listen ?

You followed your leaders, destroying everything in your wake and trying to build something new on newly created ruins. You were ready to crucify others for the illusion of belief. For the sake of the next new idea, seeming so attractive to you, you destroyed thousands and thousands of innocent lives of your neighbors. Probably, it was worthwhile in your own opinions, yes ? Was it required to express internal contents of souls to understand all absurd of attempts of changing of others without changing yourselves first and foremost ? But whether it’s in your powers to revive those who have once been killed by you ?

You listen to each and everybody, yourself being excluded. And even when you listen to “yourselves” – you keep hearing only an echo of decisions, imposed to you by others. But these decisions seem to you as ones coming from your own clarity of spirit … if only it was that way ! For this particular reason you continue sleeping with your eyes open widely, and behold dreams filled with a dope of your endless desires of this, that, and-most-certainly-that-thing-as-well. After all, your life will become so defective without all these infinite things, seizing your consciousness ! And that way you gain at least a new subject for yet another conversation about nothing with your colleagues by a dream.

Until we dive in ourselves so deeply as it’s even possible, having learned own spiritual nature, we won’t be able to truly wake up. We will instead continue to operate and move like dummies for puppet leaders. We will keep thinking like them as if by a template; believing only in what they trust; dreaming of what it’s allowed to dream. But where will such “dreams” once lead us ?

You will never awaken until you are a part of a crowd. The crowd isn’t capable to realize own illusions. One can fly up over the crowd, but will never creep under its feet. It’s useless to belittle crowds to behave reasonably. It’s impractical to count on collective conscious of crowds. Crowds dissipate naturally when each and every person in them gains his own identity. Crowds of unsleeping ones do not exist at all.

The task of own awakening lies on everyone. No one else is capable to pass your own path – for that reason it cannot be passed while you are still a part of crowd. And you better not postpone these tasks for later. There is much less time remaining, that many of you would prefer to think.

18.09.2012




In the New World


When was that?

Sometimes it seems to me that all this has happened several minutes ago, even though long twenty years passed since these days. This is not a fairy tale – in any sense. This is a story of my life, its mysterious and unforgettable part, its guiding shining star. The beginning of my new journey in this world. If you would like – solar rebirth.

Our memory always keeps for us the most remembered and wondrous moment of life. And today, after almost twenty years, I still remember very clearly that brightest month. They, those days, clearly reveal before me – whenever I wish it, my memory repeats them for me in brightest details – each and every day from several dozens. Sometimes it even seems to me that some special sort of memory is holding these events … They remained in my heart – those days.

Now I am remembering those moments once again, and tears are sliding on my cheeks … These are tears of grief and joy, my friends. Each day and every hour is so clear …

* * *

“John, it’s time for you to go home!” - and worried mother appeared on a porch.

But the boy did not hear her – he was far away. They together with Jim and Laura – little girl from the same city quarter were lapping in the river. They were scooping with their childish palms handfuls of water and with all available for them power were throwing them into each other, pouring over with a sparkling water stream.

Here he grasped flowing water with both his hands and threw it directly into Jim, having poured all his face from top to the bottom. Then Jim, who was still throwing streams of water into laughing Laura, has somehow put a hand on water surface – and an instant later a whole water whirlwind has encircled him. A water shield has risen around Jim. He himself was turning in a water and beating it with hands – and streams flied in different directions from him, touching both the right (whom a Laura can be considered by right – for after all it was not she who have begun this attack on him!) ones, as well as guilty ones – meaning John, who had imprudence to pour over this water champion Jim and was not, being poured by uninterrupted water streams, have already felt sorrow for such a precipitate state.

However this new water barrier and flying water streams, have, apparently, inspired all of them only more – they were laughing and pouring each other, no longer closing faces with hands from water streams, rushing in every direction by totally unpredictable trajectories, being sent by this or that party. Gradually he together with Laura, who have come to the rescue against this Loch Ness monster Jim, began to push him more and more to a coast – streams were beating in a face, he couldn’t see Jim clearly any longer, but kept fighting. But Jim did not retreat as well – now he had time to throw water in Laura as well, and she have got no less pressure than John.

They were fighting and battling together with each other, and ringing childish laughter filled space and unrolled with waves around the place. They had lots of fun that day. Jim was finally pushed into a coast – and they together with Laura by the right of full winners poured him without future resistance from his side.

Then they chased one after another in a water, much like jambs of blood-thirsty sharks, as the very same Jim has noticed. Those who have been caught up were seized in water for heels a dragged on a coast. Most easier it was to catch Laura – after they managed to seize her by heels in water, she obediently went to a coast and waited there while they were chasing one after another. Then, laughing, she swimmed to them – and this time was chasing them, already fairly tired from pursuit of one after another, and almost every time in that she prevailed. Well, certainly, they gave in to her.

Then there were wood walks and singing of birds in branches of trees. It was morning and they, having taken seat on wood logs, were listening to bird’s trill as if being charmed.

“Our wood brothers know how to praise light”, - I still clearly remember this phrase of Laura.

There were their joint hide-and-seek games in wood windbreaks and plentiful high bushes, growing there. There were descents from frosty ice slopes and snow games. There were falling in deep snowdrifts and friendly laughter of friends, standing nearby. There was a joy of experiencing of such enormous and wonderful world, opened before them.

They – these three – were only entering this life as children. They have been living like them from then on.

They… They – three. Now he is the only one left.

It was like a blow. No – it was much more terrible.

As though one thousand of flaming hammers have fallen upon you and pressed down so strongly that you couldn’t even breath … As though some deep abyss is sucking you inside and you are unable to do anything … As though some invisible force is breaking and cutting you in pieces … As if you have ceased to live any longer …

And still it was nevertheless – that particular day. Ten years ago – yes, then he learned that finest friends of his childhood and youth, who have given him so much – Jim and Laura … - both of them have died. Both have left this world and he remained in it without them. “Without them. Without them. Alone. Alone. Alone”, - his consciousness was beating its rhythm like a hammer. “Without … them”, - echoing in consciousness words have finally merged into a pure excuse of a phrase – and he has fainted, having fallen to a suddenly approached ground.

He came to his senses afterwards, though not immediately. For almost a year he has been coming to senses. This was indeed a great loss – a loss of, perhaps, the most valuable gift given by life to him. But he has endured it. Has consulted because he had to. And because a heart – his heart which has never before cheated him, has perseveringly and constantly from that day of this loss whispering to him that this separation is not eternal. That they, three ones will meet again under the sun of another world, will meet once his path here is finished and debt is fulfilled.

But all this was later, many years before. And then they were bright children – and nothing and no one saddened their festival of life.

 * * *

It seemed that this day was the most common afternoon, which happens exactly three hundred sixty five times during a year for a detached onlooker. But it might seem to someone other – yet not to him. Not to him.

A ghost or a man? At first I thought that I’ve encountered a true ghost, when he carefully approached my home and greeted me. As if having appeared from nowhere …

I welcomed him, having sharply put my right palm to a head and then releasing it – for unknown to me reason men in military uniform often made this gesture, and so I have decided to try it out as well.

“Warrior”, - said stranger and smiled. “A true warrior will once come out of you”, - he added. He started talking. Asked me of my district and inquired if he can live somewhere here for sometime till “it will be time for him to move on” – it seemed he expressed that way.

We – I together with Laura, who have come running to my house just by that time to invite me and Jim on Saturday picnic, which her parents were going to arrange – both have actively joined the conversation with a stranger, eagerly rivalry chattering and interrupting each other to give that man as much information as possible on why, for example, he is will be glad to stop in the house of aunt Zhanetta and don’t need to even dare thinking of stopping in the “Night Rider” tavern. So we learned that ghost is called Richard. “Richard”, - said the ghost, - “one of my favourite names”. 

When we finally finished our explanations and both stopped, having become fairly tired from such verbal outburst, he smiled and inquired whether he could stay in my house for a while.

“And why don’t you want to stop at aunt Zhannetta?” – Laura outstripped me with question and looked at the stranger with inquiring and interested look. Richard-ghost moved his eyes to a left-upper corner – as if reflecting on something. Then has somehow taken hands aside, having exposed his palms up as if asking someone unknown for help – so it continued for about ten seconds. Then he stirred up his head and once again has looked as us with a radiant look – till now I remember that wonderful sparkling of his eyes! – and has started talking once more.

- Decided to check one more time if I should stay where you have offered me at first. It will not be the best choice. I should stay for some time close to you for now.

We, of course, started asking him one after another of why he should stay exactly with us as how he has learned of that, and he replied: “You will learn everything in due time. When you will grow up, you shall understand. Warriors”, - he added and smiled. “Be not afraid, John, be not afraid, Laura. I will not cause you any harm. Warriors of good battle together – shoulder to a shoulder – and no against each other”.

But … I didn’t tell him my name! And neither did Laura! How could he possible know them? Judging by Laura’s face I have seen that she is a bit confused as well. “But how did you…”, - she started asking – and suddenly changed her mind, without finishing her phrase.

The stranger turned to face her and smiled.

-          You want to ask yours and John’s names? No, I didn’t inquire people about you for that I have no need. You will receive the answer to that question as well, having grown up. Many things will open before you then.

He has told nothing more on that question and we haven’t interrogated him as well.

“As I understand, a consent of your parents is necessary for me to live together with you?” – and looked at us. “Well, certainly”, - he added again after five or ten seconds. “I will adequately pay for my accommodation and will not disturb you I my everyday life. However, if you”, - and he looked at me and Laura – “will ever need my help – you can always address me while I am staying with you. I will be around here for about a month, and then I will have to move on for my path calls for me. Ask your parents and decide together whether will you accept me – and who from your parents may welcome me. I will come tomorrow afternoon. Good luck to you, warriors”, - and, having this said, he has fitfully got up, waved his hand, parting, and suddenly disappeared behind a horizon almost as fast and mysteriously as he has come, having left us both in feeling of bewilderment and at the same time in sensation of some bright joy and presentiments of upcoming happiness.

At least I was left with such a feeling – but Laura, seemingly, as well.

- So, what are we supposed to do now? Did this man seemed … strange to you? – and Laura lift her eyes, studying me.

- Strange? Yeah, that’s true … he is strange … but still I trust him for some reason. Don’t know why. I trust him a believe in his motives – I replied.

- And so did I. I just wanted to know what do you feel. However, I don’t think that my parents will allow him to live with us – too watchfully do they concern strangers, even to … such as … - and Laura sighted. – But your will most certainly allow it! After all your family is short of money now and they will use this upcoming possibility.

- Yes, mine will likely welcome his offer. He will stay together with us … with us … for  a month – I said. One month … “Why for so short, just a month?!” – word have suddenly escaped my lips and I hastily covered my mouth with a hand. What are these thoughts? Strange.

- Well, fine. I will come tomorrow evening and you shall tell me about him then. He is so mysterious … - Laura has favored me with her graceful smile, stood up from her place, has given up a lost farewell – much like that stranger – and has run to her house. Her silhouette was gradually thawing, as if concealing itself in this morning haze – and soon totally disappeared from sight.

“It means, tomorrow. It means, month. Well, let it be so then”, - don’t even remember from where did these thoughts came up to me, but there was some extraordinary force and internal consent inside them.

My parents indeed allowed this stranger to live with us. So has begun that wonderful and unforgettable month of my live, which has remained in my heart, remained – forever.

 * * *

He was full of surprises and riddles, that Richard, and was extremely kind as well – and so we together with Laura, Jim (we couldn’t conceal such an event from him, and he too started visiting me in my home to meet time and again) soon all three have fallen in love with him. Even now I can still remember our conversations with him, his brightly shining solar eyes and quiet and filled with internal might voice…

“Are you asking me of where have I come from? From a world – worlds. There are myriads of unique magnificent worlds out there. Your life lies in the endlessness. It’s only necessary to move forward to understanding and beauty. And this world of yours – you can transform it into a blossoming garden as well. You hear me? You can! It’s all in your powers …”

“Now you are living the life of a child, you notice and see a lot of things – those which the majority of adults have already ceased to notice – lots of fine things. You are living in a live world. Each day is truly new for you, and wonderful as well. This is true and fair, a fine perception of life. Others have to study such perception. Those who have forgotten that such a sensation is possible – they have to be reminded of that. Your joy of life and love – your and one of your friends – it’s as though a key to a world. It will open all gates before you, it will lead you over abysses and give magnificent wings for a flight”.

“Yes, indeed a joy is promised to mankind. People could live in joy if not have made themselves enter a circle of sufferings. I do not know of why they have made this choice – but many nevertheless have made it. What sort of joy am I talking about? But you must have already experienced it! When you together with your friends were playing and frolicking – that was a joy of exploring the world. When you study surrounding world with interest – it’s a joy of learning the world. You receive joy of working as well. When you are in love and are giving your love to your neighbors – it’s a joy and delight of love and giving it back. It’s strange that some have lost this wonderful thread – but it means that they have to find it once again. Heart of theirs must they melt first! People passionately wish to be happy – and do nothing to make that happen. For some of them every day is like a monotonous foggy image and their life also happens to be full of mist. But it’s easy to lose the way and clue in a fog, therefore it’s necessary for a heart to shine with love and joy – and then no fog imaginable will cover this ardent heart!

“The one who is moving will reach once – I know, you have already heart these words – and they are true. It’s impossible to sit in one place, in the 100-th time raking up piles of own prejudices and unnecessary and insalubrious habits. One has to move on, to be inspired! The inspiration is necessary for men – but many believe that it comes only in some extraordinary cases. But it’s always near us – only to stretch a hand. Only to start working with kind thoughts in mind – and inspiration will always be your faithful devoted companion on a life’s journey”.

“How have I learned your name? And how animals feel fear? How people feel other’s gaze? How the atmosphere of a home in which they are staying can be felt? Certainly, not all possess such sensitivity – but they themselves close own way with prejudices. But even those who possess, usually consider this sensation as sort of artificial self-suggestion. Extremely accurately and clearly feel some – and still do not trust themselves! Wave them away, refuse, while they could study these phenomena. But with such a difficulty do men accept everything that lift their nature and their self-understanding, therefore for many indications of eyewitnesses are not enough – they judge of things in the world based on their own being. But your science can prove that – and it must finally pay attention to these aspects. Your science has already studied many laws of physical world – but now the time has come to study laws spiritual one. Actually, you have been told of them so long ago – many centuries before, yet they remained the diploma on paper for many, which they respect, yet not follow”.

“What are these laws? And what have you been told? Love your neighbor, learn to find pleasure in any work, learn to be courageous, bring light into the world. Simple words. Great sense and wisdom – and knowledge as well. But how many people remember of that everyday and live like that?”

“Who am I? After all the first time I have come to you, you must probably have considered me as some sort of ghost, right? But as you can see, I am live person as well as you. I am simply speaking of something of which many of you are still unaware. For those who remembered once but have forgotten – I remind”.

“Why should I leave you soon? Because my way calls for me I will have to go. There is much to be made yet”.

Such conversations we used to have in evenings. I, Jim and Laura – all of us gathered together before a house fireplace and like bewitched ones were listening to him. Probably due to a simple reason that he was telling the truth?

 * * *

I clearly remember one day when heart of mine was beating uneasily. I couldn’t find peace inside me as if something sad was going to happen. I was going by our street when has noticed Laura and three adult guys who have surrounded her. Then he words and crying reached my ears – “Please, I beg you, stop it!” With all my powers I ran forward. Wind was beating me in face and picture was gradually opening before the eyes – three guys have surrounded her, one was holding her by hair and two others were tearing her clothes apart. They were doing that and were not afraid at all. No one, nobody from rare passers-by tried to interfere, even though together they could stop this violence.

Still running I have snatched one of them and tumbled down – began threshing with fists without looking. The desire to protect Laura was burning so brightly in my breast that I didn’t feel pain when two other guys abandoned crying Laura and have seized me instead. I felt no pain when one of them took me by my hair and another by a jacket so that I couldn’t move any longer. I felt no pain when they started beating me in my breast. I felt no pain when has fallen to the ground and they began kicking me with feet. I felt no pain by that time. The pain has come later.

A small stream of blood was flowing from injured nose and lips, leaving a viscous red trace on a sidewalk. Three guys were guffawing and undressing crying and begging them not to do it girl – begging in vain. I don’t remember how much time has passed – I ceased to remember. But the subsequent events I remember extremely clearly still.

“You shall now leave her alone and move away while you still can. Immediately!” – painfully familiar and now already cold as steel voice ringed in air.

Hardly moving my head I still managed to turn it and have seen standing nearby me Richard. Not like that, totally different was his voice when he was talking with us – now it was somewhat rigid and filled with great inner force at the same time. I badly remember those instants – my eyes were dimmed by some red fog – but still remember some things nevertheless … Hearing his words those guys have come off the crying and groaning Laura and turned to face Richard.

“Now!” – repeated Richard and made several more steps towards them.

“Oh yeah! Who’s the fucking shit are you?!” – one of them shouted in response – but there was no more that defiant impudence and self-confidence that was before.

“I said now! There will be no repeats here. You can back off, I will not touch you – you have yourselves created not the best consequences by that act. But now you will be cleaned away!”

“You try to expel us, goat!” – already obviously defying, the very same guy shouted.

Then Richard stepped forward, sharply raised his right hand up – during that instant as if some fiery blade sparkled in his hand – or, perhaps, my grown turbid consciousness has already started to dement me? – an he exposed his hand forward.

“Why the heck are you afraid of him? There are three of us, and he’s alone!” – the very same ringleader cried out and, probably having decided to set an example for his allies, sharply rushed towards Richard, exposing his fists forward.

He bashed at Richard with all his force – such a pressure should simply tumble Richard down on the ground. It seemed to me that during that instant of their collision something has flashed around Richard … anyway, I clearly saw how the tyrant who has bashed him as if hit a stone wall instead. He simply ran into him and was knocked away – and Richard has not moved at all, totally not stirred. Not a single iota. The tyrant instead felt to the ground, moaned and then went silent. Two other guys, already being frightened by his appearing, have abandoned Laura and started running away with all possible haste. They were not pursued.

I do not remember what has followed. I regained consciousness being already at home – and pain wasn’t felt any longer. I stood up and soon found Richard. He was silently sitting at a fireplace – it seemed that he was dozing, his eyes were close. I didn’t disturb him, and went to look for Laura instead. I found her in the next room lying on a bed, sleeping. Her wounds were tied up and there were not, not torn, clothes on her. It seemed that sleep overcome me once again after that. When I woke up again, both Laura and Richard were unsleeping. They were sitting near by bed. 

“Ah, woken up”, - said Richard and smiled. “Rise up, warrior. Your wounds have been healed and you are ready to stand in line once again. You will have to do it before the upcoming era of trials”.

“I … I feel no more pain … totally. How could I recover so quickly?”

“Yes, and Laura feels no pain any longer. The pain has gone. I have cured you, though it was not an easy task – however I have already rested for now”.

“But how did you …?” – Laura started asking him, but Richard raised his hand as if calling for silence, and said – “Questions will go after, but for now you have to rest. Take a rest, warriors with lion hearts” – and he left a room.

 * * *

Then there were our talks with him once again. There were even more many joyful days. These were unforgettable days. Probably, the best ones in our lives.

And then he left us – and we remained alone. In the next morning he got up and told me that today it’s time for him to go.

“Where to?” – I asked.

“The way I have chosen”, - were his words.

I began crying. I started crying when he told that he is leaving us.

He smiled and said: “Don’t cry, we are not parting ways forever. Perhaps, we shall meet again one day. Farewell, warrior, and do remember of the days of upcoming trials!” – he once again habitually waved his hand and sent his steps into a new revealing way.

We were standing shoulder to a shoulder – I, John, Jim and Laura. I watched him with sad and full of hope look. Laura hang down her head. “Farewell”, - she whispered quietly. “He will return”, - said Jim. “We will meet him once again”.

* * *

I regained consciousness from memoirs.

As clearly as now I still remember that wonderful month – and the next years of my life, accompanying it. I have never met this man again. Sometimes I even start to doubt – whether he is a human? Who is he? Wiseman? Prophet? Simply a person, according to his words, who have come to this world to remind people of their duty and show a bright path?

I have no idea. But I certainly know the one thing – his word have given me life. He has shown me a wonderful world in which we, we, people! – can live. If we desire it and choose it, if we will not be sitting idly, swimming in swamps of own prejudices, but move forward instead. If we shall truly love. If we shall rejoice life.

Yes, yes, yes! He has shown me a new world – the world of Life. He has pointed to surprising new possibilities available for a man. Whether we will desire to live in the light? It’s up to each person. I cannot make that choice for everyone. Everyone sooner or later, but inevitably – will make his own choice. But I have already made my own, and so I do answer to a fine – yes!

I answer to beauty – yes!

I answer to love – yes!

I answer to joy – yes!

And to the New World I do answer – yes!

02.05.2012




Mage by the name of Nag


Today I woke up as always late. My pure and blissful Astral didn’t want to release me in this frail, dirty and sinful world. But I had to. Had to return back once again to help the disadvantaged, to set despaired on the right path and to rescue and protect the whole horde of local lost souls in every other way possible.

Yes, I woke up as of late – but after all, can a respectable and powerful magician eventually afford himself a little bit more than what is allowed to others ? Well, certainly, he can !

Today a rather responsible day awaited me – a new big customer and, if luck would smile upon me, all honest brotherhood of his acquaintances were going to visit me. From an anticipation of a good bargain magic heat spread throughout my mental body, so that I left this dirty reality for somewhat about twenty more minutes.

Having returned, I jumped up as a scalded one, for I remembered that I haven’t yet managed to carry out today’s morning ritual of purification – and started working instantly.

Under purification I, most certainly, understand the ritual of chopping so-called energy tails – a thing, known to every magician of a slightest degree of knowledge … well, I wanted to tell the found-out magician, that’s it. All right, I will explain for all of you so that you can understand it clearly – I was going to clean up my Karma once again.

It’s necessary to add, that aforementioned process has always given me fair pleasure, and mainly the understanding of the fact that it’s required to spend only several dozens of minutes per day – and all your Karma for previous day gets cleared – you become as pure as the God’s innocent person, and your chances to enter the Paradise stand close to a magic “one hundred” number. I, certainly, mean the Temporary Karma, instead of Personal, but that’s it … a slight specification. And cleaning of Personal karma is in no way tougher – the process takes about fifteen minutes (and recently thanks to active trainings I almost fastened it to somewhat about fourteen minutes and thirty seconds), and must be carried out far less often – one time per month suffices.

Well, is that not great, not inspiring ? Truly, great ways are opened for us, magicians ! 

Having finished off with purification, I dived into Astral once again to check the condition of my spiritual armor. It’s state was, to tell the truth, far from the best – keep sharping, keep sharping their teeth on their own benefactors all these spiteful and choleric men, keep striking it with their energetic blows. What can be taken from these ones ? The beasts they are, the beasts they are going to die once. And let their rest be long !

I poured a part of my morning forces into strengthening of the protection, having especially taken care of areas of chakras and solar serpent (for the uninitiated ones I will explain, that these are the most important power centers of a mental body of the magician). Besides all other things, this time I have poured truly other-worldly (my head and hands were still shivering for at least ten minutes at the completion of process) power into designed by me “Shield of anger”. Once more time I should explain that this is a special kind of energetic protection, which not only absorbs light and moderate power energetic blows, transferring a portion of its energy to a shield’s maker (the term called adsorption  in magic), but also reflects a part of negative energy back to the attacker. Now I will not only be able to take away a part of their own force, but make a strike back to all these spiteful beasts, sucking away my forces ! For an instant I imagined the expression of the face of the one, who would dare to make a first strike – and my spiritual essence was overwhelmed with delight.

I was distracted from this blissful state by so inopportunely made doorbell call.

So, came, they came, my new dear guests, aspiring to recover from their nasty sores, unfairly bestowed upon them. Well, this work suits well such a powerful magician as I am.

I opened the door, already anticipating how I would greet my notable guests – but instead of them I saw on a threshold some strange being with a faint resemblance to those which are called as Hounds and dwell in the Bottom Layers.

- Have you lost a dog ? – the hostess of this being asked me.

To be honest, I was enraged outright. What’s the hellish dog ?! What’s the hellish loss ?! I have lost nothing ever, especially some dogs !

- I have lost nothing, and you … go away ! – I bellowed, and slammed a door forcefully.

Angered, I almost returned to my daily cares (I was especially amused to observe how silly and helplessly do the majority of these earth being behave in layers of the other world, when after death their spiritual bodies leave useless now physical corpses), when a doorbell ringed once again.

Certainly, I couldn’t restraint … flung the door open, being already ready to curse this mistress of her silly dog with all known to me caustic expressions (and, probably, having intimidated her with a possibility to lay a curse for form’s sake) – however this time there was not a single sign of dog.

- Is that you a magician Nag Nagiyevich ? – I overheard.

- M-m-m … yes, – yet being unable to come to senses after such fast change of disposition, I mumbled.

- My name is … well, that’s of no importance, really. I came to you on personal reception … according to the recommendation, - and the man smiled.

What I really didn’t except is an answer in such a style. Not so, totally differently they described me this future client of mine … he was not the way I imagined him.

Well, no matter. The chance cannot be missed.

- Come in, sit down, - I started to pay compliments (effective mean, by the way, useful). – With what affairs did you come ? Whom should I punish, tear to pieces ? In my career I had zero misses ! – and I smiled warmly, having once again said my favorite joke. 

- No, we don’t need to torment anyone, - answered the client. – I am having a problem of much higher degree, and a true master of his deed is necessary in the subject … for example, one such as they have described me you, - and my client blurred in a smile.

My heart immediately jumped up. Something serious ? Something even more difficult ? That’s a completely new story, real business. For I have truly bothered myself to be engaged in some trifles and dirty tricks such as notorious malefices and curses.

- How can I be of assistance, my kind friend ? All my forces and knowledge will be at your disposal as soon as you desire, - and I returned him a smile. Well, no way, - I smiled much more attractively.

- I have the following problem, - and the man suddenly started whispering, - I need to revive one person. Do you understand me ?

To tell the truth, I was taken aback a bit. Never in my entire practice had I to resort to magic of such a power, according to gossips available only to faithful servants of the God. But, well, … you can never tell, right ? Perhaps it will all turn out and business of mine will flourish. I would become as rich as a king …

- Excuse me, to resurrect ? And would I be allowed to know of who is that so untimely deceased one ? Your mother, father ? Your distant relative ?

- No, - replied the man, - not they. And, having passed to whisper once again, he added : “It’s me”.

- H-h-h-o-o-w-w-w is that ? – I was astonished.

- Well, you know, theory of reincarnations … transformations … one thousand and one life … I would like to check it out. Let’s say … - and this client come to me very close, having whispered even more silently, - can you revive me in my penultimate embodiment ?

- A-a-a … i-i-i-s-s-s this possible ? – I was taken aback.

- Well. I believe it’s better for you to know.

I started hesitating. What this strange man wanted from me in this no less unclear day (truly is great the power of period of astral antiphase!) was ridiculous and surprising – never before I have heard about the process of reviving yourself. But if various theories of reincarnations, being developed by other magicians, are true, and I will have enough power to repeat the feat of… Savior … heck, one cannot dream of greater income and glory !

-All right, - I replied much more quietly (very useful move – to speak silently and measuredly). - I do believe that our combined forces will be sufficient in order to perform this act of … re-reincarnation. However I cannot give you any guarantee, and, besides, in any case you will have to pay in advance.

- Well, certainly, - and the person blurred in a smile once again. – We have to pay for everything in this world, right ? I believe, plastic would suffice ? Transfer of m-m-m… one million of credograts ?

I will be honest, my tongue was taken away from me during that moment, and once again my head started spinning and hands started shaking. One million of credograts ! This is … this is greater than the most impressive sum I was planning to ask from this men in a dozen … no, in one thousands of times ! Oh yes, truly is great the period of astral antiphase !

- C-c-c…certainly. This w…will cover all possible e…expenses, - I murmured.

- Well, that’s nice. Transfer will be performed today exactly at sixteen o’clock sixteen minutes by that time, to which we both will be the witnesses. As for now, - and the face of this man suddenly acquired some serious … no, I would even tell gloomy, shades, - back to the business.

Preparations took about an hour. Flasks, fabrics, lit smoking tubes, crystals, waving of hands, words of ancient languages … and the like, and the rest. In other words, it was necessary to create the most stable impression that something is really going to happen soon. And then – it’s only a matter of trick.

If this man is really so rich … if only … however, it’s better not even think right now what could be possibly done with his money, which all (and not only some pity million) will suddenly stop being his.  Who knows … what if he can read ones minds (the possibility, in which I, most certainly, didn’t believe at all) ? Now it’s only required to distract his attention … and then …

Finally everything was prepared. Well … almost everything.

- Come, sit down here … yes, yes … between these interpolating light beams. And this bowl will be put here, in the center. Keep remember … when I start a ritual – don’t move from your place a single bit. It will be better for you to close your eyes completely …. Energetic streams will become very intensive, they can bring down an aura segment if you move suddenly. Is everything clear ? All right, let’s do it !

I stood nearby and started reading phrases taken out from some ancient doctrine – their original meaning got was lost in the depths of centuries very long time ago, but they still sounded very well … I would even say they sounded quite magically.

After a few minutes I sharply hitched my head up and rolled up my eyes, having upraised up own hands. Continuing my passes and uterine bawling out, I started bypassing my … client ... around.

Soon, soon … several more minutes … to lull vigilance … to force him to lost himself …

Secretly taken knife I reliably hide in a side pocket.

Suddenly, without opening his eyes, the man said : “Well … and why is that there is still nothing happening ? No illuminations … sort of enchanting fireworks … only some silly mantras from Bkhagavat-Geeta, forgotten by all … to tell the truth, I am already starting to be disappointed in you … mister … magician.”

He said the last word so frankly mockingly that I almost was distracted from the process of mantra-speaking.

- Be quiet ! You will break the ritual ! – I almost shouted.

- And it seems to me that you have already broken it, mister … magician. Broken very long ago … you and all your offsprings.

Something evil, something terrifying cut through the voice of this person, and all of a sudden I noticed with dread that mentioned ill-starred smile starts blurring on his face once again …

Now, now or never, while I am still having a chance ! I snatched out a knife, and have almost jumped on that mysterious stranger (who have obviously understood all falseness of my game), but …

- Fool ! Pity fool ! Have you not yet understood of who is standing before you ?!

Suddenly outlines of stanger’s figure began changing … it started growing more and more … and during that moment something with extreme force struck me sideways and flung away, depriving of hope and salvation.

Already fainting, I managed to behold my transformed stranger – and the horror, wild, eternal, never-ending dread of understanding extinguished its last bits …

* * *

Am I dead or alive ? Was reincarnated and destructed ? I don’t know…

Everything that I remembered – were sticky, viscous, become infinite instants of horror, fear and pain.

All I could not forget were words – words, with peals of thunder and stale ashes striking me in the face and ears …

- You have ruined my deed, pity fools ! They … these creatures calling themselves reasonable people, you must have made them helpless before my false prophets … you must have weaken their reason, their feeling of reality … you should lead them in the other imagined virtual world, invented by me …

You didn’t make it ! Instead, you became sort of city clowns so that even the smallest of these creatures gradually started laughing at you and mocking you! Were you really so blind that you didn’t see it, having sunk in your thirst of wealth ? Have you all, my called ones, become so blind ?!

And now … now ! – it seemed that my consciousness won’t sustain the anger which has been poured into these words and will forever leave my now useless body, - my false prophets cannot afflict them ! They are unable to confuse their minds, they can’t distort His word ! These beings are simply mocking you !

F-f-o-o-o-o-l-l-l-l !

But now you are mine – forever mine … until His warriors won’t invade my kingdom … All of you are forever mine! M-m-m-i-i-i-n-n-n-e-e-e !

Pain, never-ending, unstoppable stream of pain have fallen down on me like a stone bulk, killing the last remains of hope and taking the life away.

The last thing I remember, before the remnants of my consciousness were burned out by this fire of tortures, was the long, terrible, almost never-ending falling in the Lowest Layers of this very … Astral world.




18.09.2012




Memory of the millenniums


Small nomadic tribe. Hunting and living, living and hunting on each new terrestrial haven. But they were short – for vastness of steppes awaited them, they were short – for battles were inevitable.

Battles of equestrian orders. A lethal enemy’s weapon - long bent sticks, firing killing needles. His companions died every day … he learnt to get used to it, he had to. In peaceful times the tribe expanded and spread again – ready for new battles, new life and new victories.

This was his life. In this world and in this time.




 * * *




Turning to the opponent. Double swing of a sword in the right hand. A strike - and flatwise blow on the armor sideways. Moving sword back. The sword describes an arch over a head of the opponent and again strikes in another side. Now the blade starts moving to the ground … both hands take it – and another blow on the plates, closing a shoulder on the right hand.

On the left. Right. Left. Right.

An arch again. Again the sword is turned in hands and flies into attack … another blow. Continuing to shower rival with strikes, he moved sideways. Some more steps and he has appeared behind the back. A blade, brought by two hands over a head … this should be the last blow, opponent will be defeated.

The steel racing into attack … the opponent is turning to face him… Clanging of clashed steel. His strike has been beaten off. The one he battled was not the weakling at all. A series of successful blows – is everything he has managed to make in this duel. There will be no easy victory – but a long and daring fight instead, a battle which he has thirsted with all his heart for a long time – a battle of worthy ones. It will be the battle of worthy – and let the strongest prevail !

One step back. The foot set back aside for stability. Clanging of steel tools which have met in their dance – now it’s his turn. A sharp withdrawal of a blade downwards – opponent’s sword slides off the block. Now a blade’s turn in a bottom. The blade has flushed, describing a circle in the air, - a blow. Opponent’s plate armor has absorbed the major portion of blow again – he resisted.

Now a tap of a sword for repeated blow … he had no time left. His flatwise blow on an armor has not shaken the contender, and that has given him time. Now he has to resist rival’s blow … his sword was describing an arch for another blow … but it was too late to use it as a block.

A hit. Stars in his eyes. The blow of the opponent has been made directly between the plates, covering a shoulder, and a helmet. A dangerous one, also demanding high skill, to lift a blade highly - and fair time for a swing.

Blow. Block. Blow. Block. Clanging steel, which has met in its favorite dance. Two flitting blades.

Two man, breathing heavily under heavy armor, enclosing their bodies. Two warriors, who have met each other in battle. Two knights, fighting for a title of the champion of tournament - fighting for sighs of beautiful ladies and admiration of commoners. Battling, battling as if all their life goals and all hopes have been put into this battle …

And let the strongest prevail !




 * * *




The centurion’s order is clear. His phalanx along with others will pass in a wedge through the enemy - pass, sweeping steel-clad infantry and crushing the marksmen, positioned on a hill. It will be glorious fight - yes, glorious fight. They will prevail, they will win a victory in this battle for the emperor. Legionaries of Rome know no defeats.

Quickly given orders. Movement in the ranks of contradictory armies. Minute, another, third one. Phalanxes preparing for battle. It will be a great battle…

Two iron walls, bristling with swords and spears, which have moved towards each other. The fighting shouts, carried by a wind across the field of battle. The loud orders of commanders travelling by air. Fight began to boil …

His formation bit into enemy ranks. The exposed forward spear … a sword’s swing - and rival’s shaft flies aside. Forward strike – and enemy falls on the ground.

A blow on his armor from behind. He has reeled, but has resisted – armor has absorbed a blow. The turn towards new danger … a blade, sparkling in morning beams of the sun – and another opponent falls down.

A block. Someone from behind tries to strike at him again. A movement of blade  downwards - and swift attack back without turning …

And yet again the blade flits in hands. Again, as countless times before, once the simple legionary, and now the leader of a phalanx – is in a fight, in glorious battle of great Roman empire. The shouts of battle and clanging of metal once again. Enemies, falling from blows of the blade.  His comrades in arms, dying on the battlefield …

A battle once again. Battle of his empire – and his battle also. Glorious fight of grand empire …




 * * *




The scientist and the researcher, the physicist and the chemist, the writer and the philosopher, a wise man. He was all of them - all of them were living in him. He devoted himself to work - for the queen, for commoners, for all citizens of his own country, for the ones in other. It was his life - his life of studying the world …




 * * *




They were hunted and pursued. They were searched for and eliminated. They were hated - hated by those, who had not the slightest idea before of the right to execute and grant pardon, which they would soon gain. But they have gained this right – received it for murder and persecution of others, have chosen it as necessary step – the one, leading nowhere. But did they really know about it?

Prisons and colonies. Penal servitudes and executions without trial. The ruined families. The deformed destinies.  The destroyed culture. It was horrible time …




 * * *




He was the creator - one of those, loving his work - the artist and the writer of a new century. The century of creativity and freedom, a century of democracy of reasonable people – a century of peace, a century of creative recovery and inspiration. The century of world’s blossoming – century of sunrise.

He worked along with other people. Creativity for goodness became a symbol of the epoch. Virtue became a world star, the sincere love became the sun, tenderness became the drops of a rain irrigating the Earth, the purified human hearts - stars in a sky.

Wonderful epoch of sunrise and ascension …




 * * *




Pictures emerged from his memory one after another and immediately rushed away into unknown lands.

Epochs and centuries, replacing each other. His life - his set of lives in this world, set of the ways, passed by him in different epochs. He was all of them … he was in many times.

Now, only now he has finally remembered it. He has remembered it at the long last - this memory of his ways was always with him, was in each new life, but only now he could feel and realize all immenseness of own life - and all its greatness. Lives in myriads of epochs, life in myriads of times. Myriads of lives in one of myriads of worlds.

How huge was his journey! How even longer and greater it can become! He has learnt much in this time - willpower in battles, determination and courage, fidelity and devotion, creativity as a life feat - all this became him. All this has grown and has assimilated in him.

He was in all - and all was in him. He was the creator, he, as well as others, was the creation of God – and was becoming his semblance.

The man has still stood for some time on his knees, listening to himself. This memory was with him - it always was with him. Now it was with him forever. He has already learnt much about himself and this world, but there is still even more left to discover. For his jouney– is a jouney in the immensity. 

And then he stood up and with a confident gait has moved to an exit - and left a temple.

Has sighed deeply. So, this way has just begun – his work is awaiting him, his life is waiting for him. And let memory of this day never leave him - let it become the fire, guiding his way - a new journey in the transformed world.

So be it !




01.10.2010




Messenger on the planet Earth


- A difficult journey awaits you. This planet balances on the verge – and its fate lies on the bowls of scales of Universe. Either life or destruction awaits it further. But they have to choose their path themselves.  Each of them will make his own choice.

- What should I do, Master ?

- You will be one of the warriors who have come into their world. You will have to fight, to struggle with injustice, to be upset of their imperfection. But remember well – this world balances on the verge, and it’s prohibited to bring chaotic elements in it. You will have to aid them to understand their ways – to help those who have heard you find a path to their bright destiny, which has always been waiting and still waits for them. To awake those fallen asleep, to encourage those sad, to give new powers to those joyful for bringing of good. Remember, though, that you cannot revive dead ones – there is neither this, nor the other world for them.

You will be one of many other, who will be send to this world – you will meet them in our life. You can unite forces – it will be easier for you to travel together. You will easily recognize them – your sensitive heart will not deceive you. When the knowledge of wonderful possibilities of spirit will be brought to this world, when consequences of various spiritual impulses will become obvious – then the planet will transform – as it was predicted. But keep in mind that to achieve this purpose all of you will have to battle – to battle against ignorance and cruelty, which continue to overflow this planet. You will have to fight – including those who have heard you and those awakened. They will have to understand it.

- Do they have any idea in what time they are living and what should they do to not allow the destruction of their interstellar home ?

- No. Only singles know about that – either those sent by Us, or those who have come to Us willingly in the course of their spiritual searches. Others either wander in own illusions, or close themselves by walls of negation – and that is one more reason of why intervention is necessary.

- Is there is a name in the history of their world, which has been given to this planet’s stage, when the first signs of its approaching became obvious ?

- Yes. They call it – Armageddon.

- What’s the name of this planet ?

- Its inhabitants call it “The Earth”.

- I have understood, Master. I am ready to accept my Way.

- We will meet you when you return. Remember of Us, and remember of them. The planet must survive.

- I am ready.

- Into the journey, warrior !

A flash of radiant shining light. The luminous spirit, shrouded in its beams, like in a cover.  Next instance – and new dazzling stream of light engulfs him – and he disappears in the light.




 * * *




One last effort of a mother – and the child was born. A pair of caring hands have immediately picked him up, wrapped up in a bed-sheet and went to wash. Only several minutes have passed – and the child was brought back to his mother. 

The woman with tear-stained and happy face cuddles the child, silently and tenderly whispering something under her nose…




 * * *




- Have you already made up your mind on how we should name him ? We have to give a worthy name to our little son.

- Yes, I have though up a name. We will name him Christian.

- Interesting. Why have you chosen such a name for him ? 

- I … I don’t know … it’s simply … it’s as if someone has suggested it to me. I like this name. Let’s name him Christian, all right ?

- All right. I believe it’s quite a good name. Let it be Christian.




 * * *




- Hey, you there, coward ! Have your wetted your panties out of fear already ?! Come, come here, mother’s sonny ! Such an assistant, oh yeah ! She is my girl and you will not touch her ! She needs no aid from you ! Have you got me, huh ?!

And little boy was taken on breast and uplifted. 

-    Have you understood me or not, I ask you ?! Stop keeping silence, you goat !

One more jerk. A blow in a stomach. Waves of pain, dispersing through body and the impossibility to make even a single breath. A hand, ready to strike again …

- Leave him be.

And a hand, trying to make a new blow, have been intercepted.

The attacker has turned back.

A boy of approximately the same age stood before him, only he was a bit higher. The guy, who has begun the attack, has jerked and pulled out his grasped hand.

-    What the heck are you meddling in our affairs, aye ? Why have you come here, foul nit ? Who’s in the hells are you, bastard ?! This does not concern you, pig !

-    Leave him alone. You have no intention to talk with him. You just want to cripple and frighten him.

This third one, who has disturbed this “talk” in such a wrong moment, was absolutely unnecessary here. And what’s even stranger – he showed no signs of fear at all. Only the calmness can be read in his eyes – and not even a fraction of dread. He has already learnt to see human fear, he read it time and again in the eyes of his victims – whether is was some cowardly excellent pupil or touch-me-not girlie.

But this one – he wasn’t afraid, wasn’t at all…

-    I will repeat once again. Leave him be. You have already tormented enough people – it will be so no more. Not here anyway.

-    What’s so bad that I’ve made, huh ?! What’s the bullshit are you saying, ram ! We were having a face-to-face “talk” here – and it’s not your fucked business to intervene ! This bastard was meddling with my girl, with my girl – do you understand ?! And now he is going to suffer punishment for it !

And once again he moved forward to the fellow, whom he has beaten recently, intending to continue fighting. Then the interfered little boy has risen between him and his target. 

-    Fine. Than you will have to deal with me.

The attacker just smiled.

-    As you would have it, bastard !

He rose slowly from the ground. Approached that tormented scared fellow and put a hand on his shoulder.

-    Have no fear. He will touch you no more. He now has someone to answer to for his crimes.

-    T….thanks, for … for h…helping me.

Either the boy has not yet recovered from a punch in his stomach, or has still been experiencing dread.

-    You don’t have to thank me. It's my debt. I have come here to perform own duties.

-    And w…what wi..will be with … h… him?

-    Him ? He has looked at recent tormentor, who bent and was still rolling from pain on the floor. He will touch you no more. And, well … he will recover soon enough. It should not concern you now.

-    Ag…again thank you f…for you aid. H…how do I call you and w…why have you helped m…me ?

-    You ask for my name, right ? They call me Christian. I have aided you simply because it’s my debt and because two warriors from one side never abandon each other on the field of battle.

And once again he has put his hand on boy’s shoulder, and, having smiled, has friendly shaken it.




 * * *




- Please, get rid of your anger. You do not currently comprehend all consequences of your condition, and not only those consequence for you, but also for people who surround you in these moments.

- Stop poking me here ! Have your fun poking another, for you are like mummy’s child to me ! And it’s none of your business ! How would you behave if some slink had robbed you ?!

- I say “you” because I consider you as equal, as one inhabitant of this world to similar another. Your anger is pointless – event has already occurred, and it’s your past now. The thief is gone. One can regret his past, love it or hate it, but cannot change it. It cannot be brought back to be lived through once again – possible, differently. But each moment of your life is already becoming a past in this very instant – and so you have to live it to not only having no regrets after, but making it a new source of power in present.

- I do not understand you.

- Many of you are unable to do that, unfortunately. And nevertheless they should start realizing, where is the truth and where does lie lurk in the course of their own spiritual quest. Time never waits. It’s already running out.




 * * *




And nevertheless it was wonderful here. Despite all the absurd and discrepancies, which have been brought here by capricious reason of this world’s inhabitants, it was great.  The very atmosphere of this small shelter in a much bigger haven was pure.

-    Would you like to confess, my child ?

-    I thank you, but I must refuse – I will confess only before my divine Father. And for all my errors and mistakes I will answer only before Him as well.

-    Oh, is that really so ? After all, you are not without a sin, my son.

-    That’s true indeed. But I will redeem all my faults and nonsenses, once made by me in different lives – and, possibly, in this one too, - with my own life. Simply because it’s the only way ever possible and there are no others.

-    But God himself has granted its servants the right to atone for sins of others and to pardon them. Those forgiven by us are forgiven by Him.

-    How cheap your forgiveness must be ! I wonder whether it costs 30 silver coins ? But you have completely misunderstood the writings you managed keep – even if it has been deformed by your servants at earlier stages, how is it ever possible to talk about full accuracy of its interpretation ? There is no such law in the Universe, which would allow one spirit to forgive the other for mistakes, made by him, and in one lapse to cancel all their consequences. Another spirit can help only those coming to an end of the expiation – but it’s the man himself who walks the path of redemption.

-    You are speaking of blasphemy, my child ! How can you judge what is true, and what is false, when we have a live proof of validity of all the laws, honored by us, given to us from the above ?

-    You have understood a lot correctly, but, unfortunately, not all. The shortest and ones of great importance words on the planet, on the planets, are “God”, “Love”, “Peace”, “Eternity” – you have understood this right. The world lives in and is driven by love – by love of the God to His creations and His creations to Him and to each other. The Universe is eternal as you are – and this, unfortunately, not all have yet realized.

-    Only the God is eternal, my child – but we are all mortal ones. Only by righteous deeds in His cause in this mortal life can we hope to reach life eternal. 

-    But you are eternal. Both I am, and you are, and each of us. Planets can be scattered to ashes, but we will live on. Another subject, however, is that you have really decided to destroy this planet into ashes, trying to repeat sad destiny of a predecessor civilization, for which this planet was too their space shelter in due time.

-    This is untrue! Those sinning and having not repented do not live forever ! The fate of theirs is the fiery hell and eternal torments !

-    Eternal tortures for mistakes of only a single life ? For the errors, made by a human on a very short part of his way ? Certainly, there are the acts which extend their consequences on a lots of lives. To fall once and to rise from the falling during many centuries – it’s a sad fate indeed. Many, however, prefer to dive into such depths, whence they cannot get out anymore, - therefore for them consequences of their actions may become similar to being eternal. But nevertheless – they are not endless, they can occupy many lives, but still are not eternal. But the true meaning of life lies not in the endless sinning and atonement, after all ! It’s in the creativity for good sake, in aiding your fellows, in walking your own bright path through the challenges of Universe – have you truly understood that ? Have all your so-called wise man understood that ?

-    How dare you defile a Divine Word ! You will not be able to stay in this house, devoted to Him, anymore ! We have His Word !

-    And that is great. Follow the way of everything blessed, granted to you. Grow this blessed seed in yourself – only then you can count on your perfection, only then you will move closer to your Father. Remember, each of us is His creation, and each of us is eternal. We are all Gods – at least in the potential. As His fraction, possessing all His traits in a germ, we can travel a path from a human– through the angelic human – to the incarnated God himself. And yet we can still remain at an animal stage – some of us have been living so for countless centuries without change – and the fate of those is truly unenviable. It’s for us to decide that – for everyone, and this is our most important and most fateful choice.

-    This is enough ! I will not bear your presence here any longer ! Leave this house of our Lord now !

-    Farewell, father.




* * *




Planet – garden ? What a bullshit ! I will rather believe in the mechanized iron planet !

Love makes the world go around ? It’s the physical strength that moves it !

There are other inhabited words ? But our apparatus haven’t discover any signs of life on the planets which are accessible to us – all worlds must be lifeless ! We are the unique source of life in the entire Universe !

A man can emit light ? Are you even in your mind ?! Tell me now, that space is filled with invisible green little men ! 

A man is capable to change the world surrounding him with his own thoughts ? Oh, yeah, sure ! I can surely change it with my own hands, but thoughts … I haven’t even heard a bigger nonsense than this !

I am a potential God ? I am a human ! And leave all those potential for someone else to care !

My feelings create the radiations, affecting me and my neighbors ? I bear a responsibility for negative feelings ? I would rather now affect you in a … hm … real way – hit your dummy head with my fists !

Space is not empty ? It’s filled with the essence of ours ? Yeah, yeah, do not lie like a gas meter ! Scientists haven’t even discovered anything like that – and it simply does not exist ! What ? Whether I can feel a difference between a temple and a prison’s atmospheres ? Certainly, no ! Wonder why ? Cause there is none !

How does a person feel a glance ? What sort of noticed flashing spark can arise between two people ? There are just two options here – either it all seems to you, or you have a really diseased imagination !

How did Christ cured people ? Oh, heck, here you are again, starting to tell tales about him. I have heard plenty of those tales in my childhood already ! No more !

Armageddon? Time of challenges? We are stuffed with these children fairy tales already, feed someone else with them ! We are adult and disbelief in such nonsense !




 * * *




He was standing, surrounded by several tens of his allies. Awakened warriors of this world.

- We will not despair, and we will not turn back. Do you remember, how you have aided me when I was still a a schoolboy? You have helped me out of pure motivation. The world needs same sort of aid now.

- Yes, George, I remember. I have not forgotten. You are right, we will not surrender. We will keep working.

- What wasn’t possible today, would blossom tomorrow ! How wonderfully you have spoken that day ! 

Alice has approached him and smiled.

- The faithful one never gives up, the knowing one will bring his knowledge into the world to disseminate darkness of ignorance!

And once again Pavel has repeated his words told by him once.

- Dragons of rage will be defeated !

- Let the spiritual joy blossoms!

- Let each new day be truly new!

He heard these words, and tears have filled his eyes – even though he almost never cried.

It seemed that all of them have decided to remind him his last years of life in this world. They repeated his words – each one repeated something most dear to his heart. They all approached him and friendly clapped on his shoulder, encouraging. They – awakened brave warriors of this world. 

- Yes, my friends. We will continue our struggling. We have a path, chosen by us, and our debt lies before us. We should help people understand a lot of things – but each one of them should also feel by himself where does a truth and a lie rests. The planet must survive. We have done much, but should make even more.

Our dreams live in the heart of the Universe and I beg my divine Father for the bright day, when they will come true, to come at the long last.




02.10.2010




Monologue with a child


Hello. 

Forgive me, for I have not spoken with you for such a long time. For long, inadmissibly long I have been occupied by things which seemed the only important ones to me, the only deserving attention. And in this race, in this never-ending inconceivable bustle I have almost forgotten about you, have almost left you alone. I have no time left even to speak.

I know, I always knew, how important it is for you – to feel, that you are not forgotten, that you are important to someone. That somewhere someone is awaiting you, awaiting your return. That he will happily embrace you when you will appear again on a threshold of his house.

And now you have returned.

You have travelled by novel and unknown ways for so long – and this world is so full of dangers. But no – you have passed all of them, travelled effortlessly – so easily, as if the knowledge of how to bypass them was always with you, since your very birth … as though they were not even obstacles, promising danger, - but some mysterious, wonderful game … and you sincerely enjoyed it.

Forgive me that you had to knock on my doors several times – that I did not hear you from the beginning. I have almost ceased to believe in your returning. 

You know, I have been thinking about you since the very moment you left me. The anger, hatred, rage, melancholy, despair - all of them replaced each other as in a kaleidoscope. All of them dropped on me like an icy-cold stream, depriving of powers and heat.

Yes, there were also joyful moments – small sparkles, which have flown away from an unknown fire, and flashed before eyes for an instant, before being dissolved into non-existence again. I have even managed to be happy all years of your absence – but only now I have become truly happy, when you have returned at last. As if I have yet again found something, I have been searching for all my life … something of the utmost importance.

And if you have returned – you must have forgiven me.

Come closer, allow me to embrace you. You have changed … you are completely different now. We both are no longer the ones we used to be.

You have grown up … became stronger. Truly, this life has taught you much – though what can we teach the wizard, capable to change the world ?

Approach me, stand no at a house threshold, for this house is our common one. It will always be this way from now on. Now we will be together again, together again – like in the old times, incalculable years ago.

We will be together, for we are the one. I and You. You and I.

I – human … and You – the eternal child in my soul …




28.09.2010




Nameless One


-    Yes, doc ? What have you ?

-    The newcomer. Our guys have picked him up from a doss house.

-    Humiliated and offended one, or so to say ?

-    Sort of. Was wandering around, singing songs. Was still whispering some nonsense under his nose, while was carried here – perhaps, believed, that we haven’t heard all that, - nay, heard, all his bullshit we’ve heard ! Well-well, where will we place him, huh ? He’s still hot – cause recently caught, or so to speak.

-    And what exactly was this nonsense about ? Something about the Doomsday yet again, I take it ? We’ve tons of these homebrew Nostradamuses nowadays in our wards already.

-    Well … not exactly .. or so I hope. You know, doc, I didn’t listen very attentively to all his rubbish – wanna still remain healthy, you know. But, nevertheless, I’ve heard something interesting.

-    Boofhead – cloven-hoofed ! Go ahead, drag it all out, this plain truth !

-    Well … in general … first of all he was saying that he’s been living here for a very long time already.

-    You mean, in that doss house of his ?

-    Not at all, that’s the very point ! He’s been living on the Earth for a long time ! That he’s, ostensibly, almost immortal, sort of. That he’s come to all of us once again, cause he has been called.

-    Called ? By whom, I wonder ? Whether it was this sick imagination of his, hmmm ?

-    Dunno know, he didn’t tell. Well, then, he has been called, yes, and not alone, but together with others – well, sort of his brothers, or something of that kind. Called ones, so I take it. That they all have come to help us awaken, cause the time is already upon us.

-    The time, you say ? What’s time is that ? Whether it’s not the half of twelfth on our clock already, ha-ha !

-    No way, sort of intended time, predicted.

-    And what’s that – to wake up ? I take it that we both are not sleeping, or have I stopped understanding something in this our lives anymore, hmm ?

-    Who’s the hell knows ! He also mentioned, that we are sleeping with still opened eyes, and that, well … those ones will have a harsh time, when that very time comes. That time will not wait for those not ready to awaken.

-    Curios git'to !

-    Like the mosquito ! Hell, doc, listen further what he was telling ! He also told, that he has remembered himself, or someone has aided him to remember. That previously he was fighting with a sword in fights just, and today has changed iron blade with an invisible blade of word, able to strike the darkness of human hearts even more precisely. That he’s been collecting pearls of last paths, scattered in world’s dust and forgotten, one by one … told something about the déjà vu. He also told, that he was searching for his family … true, real family of those similar in spirit. That he’s awakened partially, and desires to finally open still half-closed eyes. That he is a man of many names and still he has none at the same time. That he was born, died and forgot, born, died and forgot time and again.

-    An amnesia, huh ?

-    He finally said in the end, that the world will change very soon … greatly change. That many of us will not have enough time to realize all that … they will – but too late … All filth will emerge on a surface and become visible in the dimmed light … That we should love each other, appreciate life, keep faith … you know, I’ve ceased to listen from that point.

-    And right were you ! No reason to listen to cranky ones at all ! To remain healthy ones, we all need to …

-    Drop the guns ! Doc, you haven’t heard the last part of this story ! He, well, approached me finally – when we were dragging him here in the car … approached easily so, sat down, looked into my eyes … Doc, you should have seen this mixture of grief and at the same time some internal joy, tranquility of sorts, I cannot simply put it in words – I have nearly sunk in his eyes during that instance ! And then he started looking into my eyes for longer and I … I give you a word ! – it was like goose bumps running all over my back – as though he has started reading my soul like an opened book, do you understand ? That sort of sensation it was, no other ! And then he just began to speak of all my life, both of a fate and a lot – of what torments me and why I’ve become who I am at present, and that even if I am a small man, I still can have a good role indented to me … he’s told it all ! I even couldn’t say anything during that very instant from amazement – was looking into this eyes of his with a mouth wide opened, like the insolent loony !

-    Well, you, colleague, just listen to all those loonies for quite a time and, perhaps, even the saliva will start dropping from that mouth of yours ! All right, that’s enough already. Place him in the six ward along with the second Napoleon. That’s the fitting place for him – and a fitting time.

-    A fitting time … yes, a fitting … time.

-    Well, did he at least have his documents on him ? What should I write down in our papers about him ?

-   You know, doc, the strangest thing is … - and the speaker has sadly looked at his mentor, - he had no documents … and he himself asked us to call him – the Nameless One…




01.11.2010




One day you will awake


One day you will awake, and your former world will die for you forever. It will thaw in beams of the morning sun of new day, it will disappear like night autumn fog, it will evaporate as former tears on someone's face dry up. It will be no more – as if it has never been before. 

At first you will not feel it, you will not realize, what has changed inside you…what was so yesterday – and today became differently. But the old habitual world of yours will be no more, ever.

Something will change inside you, something so imperceptible and hidden…sleeping … in you before. Something will turn in you at last, something so ancient as Universe itself. Something will finally manage to come to light – and you will not recognize this new world.

You will come to a window, open it and look out … you will see that rising sun which has decorated heavens … will realize how the fresh wind hammered into an open window sways your hair and tickles your face … will feel a moisture on your skin, brought by it from unknown lands … will hear, how amusingly beeping those cars of people, travelling to work, on the ground … will see, how these funny men run below, always trying to not be late somewhere … will notice, how some bird rushed through the skies just before your new window to this world … and will be so surprised, how did you not notice all of this earlier.

You will not understand at first. Since these times it would be your insoluble question – how was it possible not to feel, not to realize all this earlier … how was it possible to live almost blindly. 

You just will not realize it. You will not realize, for what unknown purpose have you lived differently before, why that gamma of feelings pouring through your heart now, – why was it inaccessible to you earlier and wonderfully became accessible now … just stretch your hand.

This will become an eternal riddle of your life, which you will not want to solve – for it will not be necessary henceforth. For in these very moments your old world will be no more.

You will be unable to tell, where has this feeling of greatest respect to the world, in which you have the luck to live, and all things living, come from. You will not know where have all your constant anxieties suddenly vanished and where has your grief gone.

Where has your desire to struggle for your personal sort of justice dissapeared and from where the feeling of absolute internal tranquility and acceptance of everything what occurs has come from?

Where has the feeling of own greatness has vanished and why it has been suddenly washed off by the arisen ocean of love to another ?

Why don’t you want to continue proving something to someone, argue with somebody, to put clever and silly arguments pro's and con's, and instead you are ready to simply look at these disputes between others and to smile to their childishness?

How, why, what for your interests, that had been so important previously, were somehow forgotten and faded, as though they never existed … for what reason did a single feeling replaced them – to always see this world as beautiful, as you see it now ?

Why did other adult and serious people suddenly began to seem to you as small children, battling in own created sandboxes with each other - and sometimes even so funny and diligently throwing handfuls of sand at each other … and sometimes even wiping the face, full of tears, with their small lovely palms ?

Where has all your former anger gone and why do you now greet and shake hands of your former immemorial enemies – and your soul exults, seeing, how their faces are changed, when you affably smile to them and stretch your hand …?

Why do you now approach the bed where your beloved one still sleeps, what for do you sit down on the edge near him, why do you bow to him and kiss, and then lean your head to his own … where has this tenderness, overflowing you, come from ?

What for, what for do you need all this ? Where has your old world gone ?

An instant fear will pierce you. You will be frightened by what has occurred to you. You will not know how to live on with this new feeling of yours. You will passionately want to return back, to life so habitual for you - so reasonable and logical. The mind will keep saying that you have not had time to do so many things - have not had time to build the house, to make your career, to do this, to do that, - and if you will accept your new world, you cannot do it anymore … simply will not see the point. And you will want to listen to him to strongly, for he has aided you in this life for so many times already – and you will almost make it …

But then you would suddenly remember as the sun shined on you – surprisingly beautiful for all these years, how wind pulled out your hair, how you felt an autumn moisture on your lips, how you saw a flying deciduous round dance, and how love to the world overflowed you … and you will throw away these impudent attempts of mind to spoil this beauty – for you will not want to lose it anymore.

There will be many years after – but they all will be different.

Your sleepy life will come to an end – and will not be repeated anymore. You will at last manage to see this world such what it always was for those who saw – and what is became for you from now on.

Both rising and falling, both success and failure, both joy and grief will happen as usual – but all of them will be different. They all will become a reflection of the wonderful new world, to which you have once – in that memorable day – come, and in which you are living now.

Just … just because something, that has been sleeping in you for so long, will once come to light.

Just because one day you will awake …




30.09.2010




Proverbs


Not knowing the ford, do not confuse the issue.




* * *




Soon the fairy tale flies, life moves slower to sunrise.




* * *




Through the dirt on foreign horse back to dearest home, of course.




* * *




One, two, three, then add some stench - one is master of shortchange.




* * *




Every pig’s in love with shed.

To ruin life each idler’s glad.




* * *




Every law has just two sides.

Made for rich, for beggar - bites.




* * *




Russia is a gentle soul.

Each day’s milked with a bowl.




* * *




Early to rise and early to bed - those with no wife will appreciate that.




* * *




Word is a sparrow? No.

Have taken off? Watch flow!




* * *




Feeding wolf, just keep in thought - it will eat, but yelp will not.




* * *




From the work you dare crawl? Work’s not wolf, won’t ever howl.




* * *




From all imaginable and known to humankind medicines the greatest one, being incredibly effective and having no side effects, only good nature stands above all-others.




* * *




Almost everyone dreams of himself as being exclusive in this life, yet even the most exclusive ones are being excluded from this life once.




* * *




It’s incredibly easy to become a man, when you have idea of how he should look like. It’s incredibly difficult to become a man, when you know what it should be like.




* * *




There are no insolvable problems - simply there are problems which no one ever seriously tried to solve.

There are no insoluble problems - simply there are problems which no one ever desires to solve.

There are no problems at all - there is simply always something, worth improving.




* * *




When we are happy with our beloved ones - we call it love.

When we are respected and reckoned with - we call it love.

When they are ready for a heroic deed for our sake - we call it love.

But who will call a feat of love the ability to pass through all trials and hardship of life, still remaining immensely grateful to it?




* * *




The more we love the woman -

The stronger suffer then,

If suddenly are doomed

To change the marriage’s plan.




* * *




The life is good for wings, not foot.




* * *




Crawled from mud - yet still not glad.




* * *




Everything must be beautiful in a man.

The face, eyes, ears … and especially his life and death.




* * *




From old sin you are not free - yet it’s better than new three.




* * *




If one’s rigid as a rode - they won’t break, but bend a lot.




* * *




Sinning not, you won’t confess. No confession - lots of stress.




* * *




Sleep is lie, yet has a hint - it is sub consciousness’ hidden glint.




* * *




The more downwards you slide, the harder it’s to do things right.




* * *




Virtue’s truly not a whip. If don’t help - they’ll simply kick.




* * *




Never stood where it did hit, or it’ll make a second bid.




* * *




Who is the most clever, finer and wiser?

Surely, the one who doesn’t consider himself as such.




* * *




All’s well that ends well. And even if it’s ending badly, it’s still well - because it’s coming to an end.




* * *




Trust in force? Prepare for fray. Trust in kindness? Love and pray.




* * *




Old man-friend will never rant.




* * *




Human law is strangest thing - looks so fine, and somehow stinks.




* * *




You have wisdom? Leave a mind. You have reason? Fly with wind.




* * *




Beggar’s fate is on the stake? Rich one’s innards - foul fake.




* * *




Foe has fallen in his pits? Now examine how he fits. 




* * *




Seven one bear a single one (a funeral procession).




* * *




The eight world’s wonder - is Chukotka’s thunder.




* * *




Blind for blind’s not mentor, stroller - he’s fairy tales storyteller.




* * *




When old ones we kindly teach - holes of ignorance thus stitch.




* * *




Gorilla-man with no ideas? He’s a bouncer, dear peers.




* * *




The priest’s full of shame - from God received no fame.




* * *




Mind, no reason - that’s a trouble; word, no sense - exploded bubble.




* * *




Death will find the reason, liar will find the treason.




* * *




He is angry - yet not stout, he is learned - yet not proud.




* * *




Behind affairs day is lost if for this day you did the most.




* * *




Because so randomly they speak, wisdom there never seek.




* * *




Hasn’t put - to search don’t try, has ignored - never cry.




* * *




Don’t yell “go” until harnessed, rush to toilet until stressed.




* * *




Hurry up - live not in haste, gather up - enjoy the place.




* * *




Have all branches - yet no log, have no car - yet feel the smog.




* * *




One way thinking - sign of fool, for the soul mind is tool.




* * *




Alms for poor is at least for a rainy day a grist.




* * *




Fists are truly useless tools when you battle total fools.




* * *




To marry early - to be late, let own life walk measured grade.




* * *




Just one kind word - a pearl in grease, to being modest one can cease.




* * *




Every lock pick fits the master, every thief for rich’s - disaster.




* * *




And like the water whole world - it always change its final port.




* * *




A belly of beer vodka’s can’t hear.




* * *




Strict is our order, yes - yet it’s stronger than the press.




* * *




A prayer was hot, donations were not.




* * *




Many prophets, but one God.




* * *




He looks so glad this way and that, but just look closer - one is mad.




* * *




He’s naked, yet not trifle - his hands, look, holds a rifle.




* * *




Whose all with kindness treated - he will be never cheated.




* * *




Beat and fight - don’t die outright.




* * *




What we have we value not, when it’s lost then all we scold.




* * *




When you are rich, you lost the joy - and to be poor isn’t ploy.




* * *




Out of sight - out of fright.




* * *




With no money dream is stronger, but with money even longer.




* * *




One rouble for work, two hundred for the praise, and ten for the tips - men’s charity ways.




* * *




One must always move ahead to be happy, never sad.




* * *




It’s better keep sleeping without the yelling than constantly spitting in own home’s ceiling.




* * *




When one starts to move uphill, he starts to pay life’s bill.




* * *




Life is happy, never poor when it’s crystal and it’s pure.




* * *




You’ll see both good and bad until you go to bed.




* * *




Each your mood - and that is true - gives a birth to point of view.




* * *




The sex was easy, birth is hard - that’s why the harlot’s never glad.




* * *




You want to dream? Dispose of club. You want be warmed? Learn to rub.




* * *




Pincers aren’t good - never go to wood.




* * *




One man is not a man - no foe to battle then.




* * *




How many times it was then told - 




Don’t shit in public for comfort!




* * *




Let’s child play, enjoy and clap - unless he’s trying to hang up.




* * *




Sandpiper’s great in the swamp just like the genie is great in lamp.




* * *




Each one’s needed in his place, almost all ones lost its trace.




10.04.2011




Sentence


- Stand up, the court is beginning !

- Stand up, everyone. Thanks ! Now sit down, please. I declare a hearing on a poet’s case opened. I would like to remind both the prosecutor and the advocate that we are dealing with an extremely dangerous social element, masking under an assumed name, and unreasonably stating about the beginning of yet not totally clear cardinal changes of all world order.

- An earth world order, mister judge, - so the accused one told us.

- Yes, I thank you, an accuser, for this clarification. All visible earth world order. What naivety !

- Mister judge, shall I start ?

- Yes, certainly. We will first listen to the prosecution. You certainly have something to tell us, yes ?

- Indeed I have ! So, well, first of all I would like to ask jurymen and everybody in this hall to pay attention to this, if it’s even possibly to say so, creative individual. Just look at what mad sight he possesses … how these very eyes sparkle with some strange and daring fire ! And what an unprecedented impudence it is – to write about eternal life and potential human immortality ! We, both judges and admirers of classical literature, have learnt since school years one simple truth : trust, but check ! And this very check of his frankly crazy literature trash cannot withstand any serious criticism. A mankind have been learning this for a long time, - and it’s proven by views of true representatives of Christian belief, officially fixed on a paper, - that a human as a being, possibly possessing some sort of soul, still lives one and only one life and is resolutely incapable of revival in new appearances. Let us not take into consideration all that absurd, flying from mouths of those so-called spiritual leaders of the East, for they do not even worth a single bit of criticism. What completely nonsense is the statement, that a man did not die, pray tell, gathered Lords ? Alas, by the will of God himself we were made mortal, for from the ashes we are born and to the ashes we go. Alas, but such is the world order that we are capable to comprehend … and during seven thousands of years we, I bet, have managed to understood it up and down ! And, just because man  is a being essentially frankly and suddenly mortal, so, these “writings” about endless life and, as a consequence, the New World, is simply a delirium of a feeble-minded ! And that very individual, facing you, is indeed a mad one, for only crazy ones are capable to create similar stuff so selflessly and disinterestedly. I confirm, that maybe accused one really possesses some creative gift, but who can give a guarantee, that these are not the intrigues of enemies of human race, desiring to ruin and destroy all our stability once and for all ? We just cannot make up with his nonsense, for his statements undermine all basis of the managed statehood, which we have been building for quite a while. And, besides, - they undermine almost all our cultural beliefs, all our traditions, foundations, rituals, habits and even prejudices, eventually ! Here is before you, mister judge, and I will not escape this word, is simply and plainly a spiritual terrorist ! He is the enemy of our entire society, of all our ideals, for which we have been preparing this very society for many years already … he is plainly a madman ! He is capable of ruining all our tradition, our power, all that stability, which we have been trying to achieve. He just simply scoffs at people and brainwashes them … they would better watch that television, drink and guzzle, after all, than read so mind-corrupting verses ! The past cannot come back and be returned – and this means that men cannot be revived, whether from ashes or from something similar, it’s absolutely impossible, I simply refuse to believe that, mister judge – and I hope that you share my fears, concerning similar potential sudden changes of spiritual consciousness of people, conducted by us. This change is absolutely undesired by us, - as well as the world does not desire similar madmen.

Look, just take a single look at how false and pathetically accused one is now trying to look me in the face … brrrrggghh ! My skin is just starting to crawl, mister judge, - for there is something, something really terrible in his eyes, - as well as in this person. We cannot allow him to influence minds of those loyal to us, to make him pervert them and take away from a path of patriotism and holy belief – that very orthodox belief, which he tramples with each word, each hint, each appeal to break down spiritual fetters ! How is that possible to consider oneself a believing person – and not to follow all canons and rituals of orthodox church ? How is that ever possible to assert, that God never lived in temples ? How is that possible to deny all moral advantage of fanatical patriotism ? How is that possible to oppose politics of free mixture of blood of different people throughout all territory of our state with no priorities to its native population ? How is that possible not to recognize so democratically elected government, after all ? Terrorist, he is one of the most dangerous terrorists in the entire history of our state !

All of you have seen his works, and our psychotherapists have recently also taken out their professional conclusion : this man is mad ! And this statement is proven by leading country’s physicians in their official conclusions, which I am eager to present to your attention, mister judge, as well as to the attention of jurymen. Therefore I warmly ask you, mister judge, to stop any further fatal activity of this individual and to place him where he should belong, - to imprison him in a psychiatric clinic for years to come, up to that day, when a Savior himself, if He even exists, of course, in a flesh and with His entire glory will descend into our world to aid our just souls to escape the bosom of shades without any efforts from our side !

Mister judge, I have finished speaking.

- I thank you for such a long and touching … I would even say warm … speech. And, I believe, that all those gathered in this hall, his relatives included, are extremely touched by such boldness and frankness of yours ! Well, and now, I guess, it’s still necessary to listen to the advocate, if he, of course, has something valuable to tell to those gathered in this hall today. Defense, the word is given to you right now.

- I thank you, mister judge. You know, I am in deep love with my profession, and it’s not I who should tell you, how it’s very necessary for all of us to behave with concern to others, trying to help, but … you know, mister judge, I believe that this is just not the case. I tried to, I would really like to be humane and capable to tell something considerable and important in the justification of my defendant, but … I have no words to make that today. I … do not see sufficient reasons for the accused to be somehow pardoned or justified. As well as the prosecution I consider his isolation from society a necessity – for as long as possible. I have had my say.

- Well … I thank you. You can take a seat. How do you believe, accuser, is there is a reason to ask opinion of the accused one ?

- I … do not believe that opinion of a madman can have any sense at all, mister judge.

- In that case the court leaves for decision-making.




* * *




- Everybody, stand up ! Thanks. Now please sit down. Based on the indications of defense and prosecution and having taken into consideration opinion of jurymen, the court has decided : to recognize accused one as deranged and, as a consequence, incapacitated and to imprison him in a psychiatric hospital for a term of at least one year with possibility of its further prolongation, according to the independent medical expertise. This sentence is definitive and is not subject to appeal. Please escort the accused one to a place of his future settlement immediately. And may the God help him !




* * *




They laughed loudly and mocked him. They spat in his face. They frankly exulted.

- So, have they caught you, Napoleon-of-all-the-Russia ?

- Place him in the six chamber !

- The author burns ! The chamber waits !

- You’ve been caught, the sentence’s terse … what a funny, such cool verse !

The first aid brigade has put an immobilizing white shirt on a person and dragged him through all area up to a car, parked nearby and howling with all voices of the underworld. The person did not resist – for now it was unnecessary.

The crowd shouted and aspired to snatch on the newly made prisoner, and separate group of agents of national security, accompanying physicians, had to push aside those too quick.

The man was needed for a regime alive. A living sign of its victory over own conscience and honour.

Still recently solar sky suddenly began to become covered by clouds. They crept and crept one after another from the horizon, covering each other and quickly closing a firmament. After a ten-fifteen minutes time span the sky has become almost completely black. Soon the first lightning sparkled and rain began to drum on a roadway with its large juicy drops.

The storm was almost ready to be born.

The sky conducted its own sentence to each and every living one.




27.01.2011




To forgive


A blow. And yet another one.

Small streams of blood, flowing down from a torn apart skin.

Pain. Waves of pain, twitching the body in spasms, dimming the reason.

Desperate silent semi-cry, full of indescribable grief.

Angry face of the father, bent absolutely close. Naked wide-open eyes … a sight, filled with rage and fury.

Pain again, as always. More. Even more.

A lump of something warm, stuck in a throat, leaving no way to make a breath. A spittle on a floor - a spittle with blood.

- Father, stop it ! I b-b-b-b-e-e-e-g-g-g you … what f-o-o-r-r-r?!

- You, pitiful moron! Didn’t I tell you, that you must speak with adults politely and with all imaginable respect?! Especially with one such as I! How have you dared to call me an insect? How have you dared to name your father as such?! You, ungrateful degenerate! Take that, you, bastard! Take it, maggot!

A rattle, coming from a throat. It’s possible to breath no more.

- Stop it, now! Why are you beating my child again, you, fool! What sort of vile beast are you? Stop it now - you are going to kill him!

A voice of his mother, which had hardly reached his consciousness - silent and tender voice, which has become both firm as a stone and yet somehow completely broken. It always was like that when his father punished him. But yet no more than that.

- Silence, woman! You are not in position to give me orders here! I am in charge here, and you - you will carry out my will! That bastard has dared to call me an insect - and I do not forgive such foolishness! Did you hear me right?! I am a man to be proud and not some little pitiful louse - and I grant no forgiveness for such mistakes. Ever!

A new blow, time and again. How damn painful is that … His body didn’t become iron, no matter how strongly he thirsted for it in times …

And once again a voice of his mother breaches through the invisible veil - but this time it’s so quite … almost silent. How strange … does she speaks like that … or has he already ceased to hear?

A blow.

World changed - all sounds simply vanished. Judging by faces of his parents, it was obvious, that they were still arguing - but he heard them no longer.

It appeared that father shouted something once in response to his wife, but then, suddenly, confusion break through to his face, and he almost lowered his hand, carrying a weighty wooden club … But - just for an instance. Only partially. Suddenly his face once again altered his form to a furious and terribly repellent kind. He turned back to his child. Now. He is going to strike once more now …

A blow. A blow. A blow.

A breaking wood. A new flash of pain.

The world dimmed.




* * *




A low voice, caressing hearing like warm waves of a sea surf. A bent face of his mother over his own. A flowing calm song.

A mix of gray and fair hair. Gray-haired … But she, his lovely mum, was yet so young … I must have the strength to sustain it. I have to - no matter what. I am obliged. No other choice is an option. I must.

And the oblivion comes again.

He opened his eyes. Indeed, it’s still his world, the one he was born in. A kind one?

Mother, his dear mother has always been telling him, that this world is the one people see it - and the one they aspire to make it. The world becomes as such to every and each one. Good or evil, beautiful or ugly, full of incredible mysteries or totally senseless. It’s impossible to say how, but the personal world becomes as such, time and again.

He closed his eyes. The hearing was slowly returning, and his body, though hardly, was gradually starting to be felt.

Then he fell asleep once more - and has been sleeping for a long time. It seemed to him as if the whole eternity has passed before his sleeping eyes, though in reality it was, possibly, less than a whole day. He heard voices of people - heard their laughter and felt their joy. He exulted together with them, he sand with them all and his voice somehow intertwined in the common harmony of voices and then a song-joy, a song-triumph sounded even finer and happily. He rejoiced along with others - ones, able to rejoice. He loved life - despite obstacles, despite troubles. Indeed, he loved the life …

And then he suddenly woke up …




* * *




A young man woke up and shook his head somehow awkwardly, trying to drive away recent delusion of a beating. Was that really a delusion, though?

No. He perfectly did know that it happened once - was part of his past. Indeed, he remembered it - what for, why couldn’t he just threw away all these fragments of former memory of own tortures, why his devoted memory had no desire to do such a thing? For what unknown purpose did it store these old memories of years long since gone? Who knows for sure …

He tried to drive these events from his thoughts so hardly, so strenuously thirsted to forget them … But - no way, it wasn’t possible until now. 

Why even now, when he was given so much by this life at last … his beloved woman, who is so close to his heart and who understands him from a half-word, loving deeply; fine job, allowing him to aid lots of people; glory, riches, recognition, success … why even now these terrible images - monsters of his past - still haunt him, flowing before his eyes time and again, as always? A reminder of what he had to suffer?

A warning?

Enough of running away, he thought suddenly. Enough of fearing. Enough of remembering of this and enough of constant milling it in own memory. The time has come to forgive people at last - to forgive for errors, to forgive and release this pain from oneself.

To forget - and to forgive. To forgive - and to forget.

And then, having faced a window and lifted eyes towards to ascending morning sun, he cried out: - “Father, I do forgive you now for all the pain and sufferings, which you have caused me. I forgive you and let you go in peace. Go now your own path. We will part our ways with no rage and hatred. Let you be forgiven by me!”

He cried all that loudly and joyfully. He cried as though warriors do after a long-desired victory.

-          I forgive you! Let it be so!

-          “Let it be so”, - his voice was carried far away to surroundings …

And just a moment later a wonderful music, a music of joy and triumph filled his ears. It was his own music - that one of his childhood.

A sign of his way.




03.04.2011




You came too late


Yet I don’t want to die, my friend

In clocks of life there is still sand,

There is no way for saturation

For I do thirst for inspiration.




Yes, I know – time cannot be turned back. Yes, I know – mistakes of the past cannot be reversed. Yes, I know – how I was wrong for all my life and became truly right only right now. I love you how I did not love anyone in this world. And I loved much.

People deceived and betrayed me. They destroyed my illusion of own loneliness for short durations, only to let me feel again, how illusionary were my conceptions of it as of illusion. They loved and hated med simultaneously, for their love is so much like hate. And I loved them even for that. When a painful silence falls upon you like a heavy press, you even start to rejoice to a shout from own pain.

I truly loved you, loved you as no other woman in this immensely dim world. I was sort of an entertainment for them – a toy, which they threw away with pleasure the time it bored them, not wishing to understand, that even toy have a living heart. And in this amusing game they, almost like me, tried to escape from comprehension that sometime they too will be left alone with themselves – and along with you. Perhaps, I love you for that too – that you have always been near me imperceptibly, no matter wherever and whoever I was. You, probably, don’t know about it yet, but thereby you also invisibly aided me – helped true me not to lost in this false vanity of life. You have appeared to be the most true and devoted of all the women, known to me. You have become your full antithesis for me, actually.

Sometimes I called for you in a vain hope to be heard. It seemed to me that you have completely forgotten about me and will never shine the temple of my soul with your presence anymore. I have almost started to believe, that even the most devoted ones are capable of betrayal.

Yes … I see, I feel, how passionately do you desire to turn and face all these big and little ones, stepped over the border of their conscience, how deeply you want to shout to them all, that it’s only you, it’s only you, my beloved one, have never betrayed and deceived me, that only you always treated me so gently and carefully, as no other living being is ever capable of. For only you know, what is an inescapable heart pain … and only you have a cure for it.

But even you have come too late.

For I am not the one I used to be already. Something has parted with me – something imperceptibly important and indescribable in words. Belief ? Hope ? Love ? But what can belief do, when the last hope has crashed into ashes, and what to hope for when the heart has become too rigid to love anymore ? In such minutes it’s possible to love only you, both hoping and trusting. 

But you have come too late !

I was young and full of strength once, and it seemed to me that I could do almost anything – and now it seems that I have sunk into all this almost completely. I hoped for trust and trusted love once, but love have disappointed me since then, and thus I have ceased to trust them both. I have already done everything I wanted to once, and still need to do something I cannot make ever. 

You could be with young me, but you have decided to come too late. Or, perchance, have you willingly waited for me ? 

Nevertheless, we are together at last to become one. Two halves of single whole, two parts of broken jar, which has already lost too much moisture of life. No one is able to separate us, the only true lovers on this guilty earth, initially intended for each other. I accept you the way you are – even though you have come too late.

Even though you have come too late, my death.

I accept you again for you are infinitely many-sided. And each death is always followed by a new birth.

Only therefor I accept you – to wash off all pain of the past, and become live once again, for I have been struggling for it for so long already.

Hi, my death. I welcome thee, oh my rebirth !




20.10.2010




Voices


- Come to us to crush your foe! It’s your wish to make them woe! Louses will be smashed by hills, will be standing on their kneels! Where are you?! Return at last! Stop right now and do it fast! - shouted the first Voice.

- Power! Delight! Gain the might! Join the blight! - the second was crying in heart-rendering squeal.

- Wonderful little girl we possess, you she will comfort, easy the stress! Thirsting for her? Where are you going?! Join the horde in the orgies and falling! - the third one shouted after.

- Money is better than all silly girls! Women are whores, beggars and trolls! All our gold you should better accept, strange voice of conscience better not kept. All in the world then you can always buy! Soul is lost - but the body survives! - guffawed the fourth one.

- Afraid of us, for we are here! We shall devour all that is near! We now don’t care, we’re gonna to die! Fear of us now and tremble, and cry! - the fifth howled with thunder peals.

- Hatred and rage … this ain’t cage! My lovely slave, I am your grave! Go down to me - bottom you’ll see. Hatred and rage - excellent blade! Go to the abyss, join the raid! - the sixth tried to caress hearing.

- Here! To us! Look! In the glass! Stand by! Flame, pool! Where are you?! Fool! - all of them started crying at once, merging themselves into some indescribable chaotic discord.

- See, how they overstrain below? They are shouting like that to everyone - including the pedestrian ones. Especially the pedestrian ones, to be exact. Really hungry they are, - my snow-white Workmate by Sky smiled and showed a hand downwards, where somewhere away on the earth under us landscapes of crevices with tongues of flame, periodically erupting from them, were flowing.

- There can be pedestrian ones? - I questioned.

- Even creeping ones happen to be. As a rule such ones are being very fast caught and … hrum-hrum … you know.

- Severely.

- Well …, - the Workmate sadly smiled. - What’s the reason in creeping? Especially in times like that one …

- By the way, how much time do we have in our possession? - I parried.

The Workmate looked somewhere upwards for a pair of seconds, then turned to me and answered.

- The time of everyone is made so that it’s always enough for his tasks, at due efforts. And concerning humankind in general - very little, - he added after a while.

- And what to do with them? - I questioned Him, showing a Chasm, spreading below.

- With these voices? Don’t pay attention. They will cry for some time and become silent. The higher you will fly up - the lesser you will hear them.

- How far shall we travel from here on? - I interrogatively looked on my Workmate.

- Can you see t-h-a-a-a-a-a-t star in the Heavens? - and Angel specified a small shining point, which has occurred on the horizon.

- Hardly noticed, - I replied. - But a direction of movement looks clear enough.

- Well, nice and perfectly, - and Angel smiled. - Then forward up to the Sky - on all wings, as they say!

- Forward! - answered I and smiled to him in return. - Together with you and the God!




05.02.2011




The Book of Freedom








Book of the Essence


You are not mind. You are not body. You are not feeling. It’s easier to express true essence through negation.




* * *




Only having dumped from yourself all opinions of a society of who you should be, it is possible to learn who you are. Only having learnt who you are, it is possible to see whom you can become.




* * *




Not loving yourself, it’s impossible to experience the same feeling to another. Hating yourself, it’s impossible not to experience the same feeling to another.




* * *




Happiness is out of mind limits. Feeling is out of mind limits. Observation covers them all.




* * *




Ability to feel makes one living. Ability to think makes one reasonable. Nobody but you can aid in learning yourself.




* * *




The fish, who is going down stream, can be washed ashore by inflow. The fish who is going against the stream, may not reach. It’s possible to act without explicit purpose.




* * *




Mind will assure you that you are better. Mind will force you to be at war. Only having been tired of blood of victories, it is possible to start wishing to wash hands.




* * *




Without having the goal, you will not start moving. Having not started moving, it is impossible to reach. Only the one who has no place to go finally reaches.




* * *




Wishing much means to suffer defeat one day. Wishing little means to accept it now. The victory is possible only in the absence of desires but who will desire this victory?




* * *




If everyone can aid himself, aid to others will be ceased. But everyone knows how to aid others, and no one how to aid himself.




* * *




Being reasonable, you cease to be living. Being responsible, you cease to be living. Being moral, you cease to be living. Only having managed to become them all at own will for a while, you remain them.




* * *




Operating the house, it’s possible to do it badly. Operating the country, it’s possible to do it badly. Operating the world, it’s possible to do it badly. The highest skill possible is in mastering yourself.




* * *




Having dissolved in the world - you will lose yourself. Having dissolved in the other - you will lose yourself. Only having dissolved in yourself, you will find true yourself.




* * *




Joy is not in achievement. Joy is not in comprehension. True joy is in their possibility.




* * *




Having learnt others, you will not learn yourself. Without having learnt yourself, it is impossible to learn others. Let everyone think of how much he should do himself.




* * *




To answer a question "Who I am" is more difficult, than a question "Whom I can become". But without having answered the first question, it is impossible to answer the second.




* * *




The one living forever is the one who never dies. The one who never dies is the one who knows no such thing as death.




* * *




To live alone - means to live in suffering. To live together -  means to live in suffering. A peace with yourself is necessary at first.




* * *




It’s possible to be a holy man – and never reach. It’s possible to be a sinner – and never reach. Reaching yourself has nothing in common with others.




* * *




It's possible to have things - and not to be adhered to them. It's possible not to have things - and to be adhered to them. But in order to be released from their adherence you once have to reject them.




* * *




The victory of one is defeat of another. Defeat of one is a victory of another. The one truly free can neither win, nor be defeated.




* * *




Release from grief is joy. Release from joy is calmness. Release from calmness is death.




* * *




The thick-skinned do not feel soft touches. Turtles never run. Moles know no such thing as sun. Wingless have no power to fly. Such is the way of things.




* * *




Light cannot reach closed eyes. Eyes of sleeping ones never shine brightly with light. Light disseminates darkness by its very nature. Such is the way of things.




* * *




What was living yesterday, today became dead once again to further create life in a new form. Life and death are inseparable and one does not exist without another. Such is the way of things.




* * *




The unblown flower becomes a weed for those near him.

The withered oasis becomes a part of desert.

Not thawed ice becomes an iceberg in ocean.

The lake, born in adverse environment, becomes a bog.

The nature knows no emptiness.

Such is the way of things.




* * *




Nobody can become everything. The one who was everything can become nobody. External greatness has nothing in common with inner one.




* * *




Plants do feel. Animals do think. Humans consider only themselves reasonable. We are all parts of single whole.




* * *




Living for yourself – you live for others. Living for others – you live for yourself. Only those learnt will confirm these words.




* * *




Joy is necessity. Happiness is necessity. Love is necessity. Creativity remains a possibility.




* * *




They say : “It’s wrong”. They say : “It’s not done in that way”. Only having denied interdictions, it’s possible to learn to create.




* * *




Freedom “together” is not a freedom. Freedom “from” is not a freedom. The true freedom – is a freedom “for”.




* * *




The sun knows not right ones. The sun knows not wrong ones. The sun shines having no purpose to warm someone. The one who has found his true nature is like the sun.




* * *




The stream cannot be compared to the river. The river cannot be compared to the sea. The one who has found his true nature is like the ocean.




* * *




It’s possible to accumulate lots of knowledge – and to know nothing. It’s possible to have no knowledge – and to know a lot. Only in silence of own experience an enlightenment is born.




* * *




To know all about all is impossible. To know all about others is senseless. To learn even yourself, the Eternity may not suffice.




* * *




The dog howls not from joy. The cat purrs not from grief. Both dogs and cats are unable to alter their nature. Is human capable of doing so?




* * *




One thousand opinions on you are not you. Your words are not you. The one who knows himself is capable to operate all three, still remaining the fourth.




* * *




It’s possible to talk with sinners - and to remain holy. It’s possible not to torture the body - and to remain holy. It's possible to live simple life - and to remain holy. The true holiness is holiness of consciousness.




* * *




The one plunged in crowd will not find himself. The one renounced the world will not learn others. One can learn himself without renouncing, but can never renounce himself.




* * *




The sacred accepts approval of others. The sinner accepts hatred of others. The wise does not seek attention of others like the first and the second.




* * *




The prayer “for” is begging. The prayer “contra” is hopelessness. The prayer “pro” is unfulfilled hope. For truly free one his entire life becomes the only possible prayer.




* * *




Only the poor needs alms. Only the ignorant about his own ignorance needs belief. Only the one tempered in hearth of own experience has no need for superstitions of others.




* * *




It’s never possible to accept yourself, renouncing. It’s possible to change yourself, only having accepted. It’s possible to learn yourself, only having remembered.




* * *




The invisible balance reigns in Universe. Because of a dust of personal desires people are not capable to behold it. The human is free to choose his own way in the world. To change the uniform laws of  Universe is not in his powers.




* * *




The reason has no physical form. The mind – is just a guide for a reason. The guide knows nothing about an unfamiliar route, but is capable to tell of him to another when the journey is finished.




* * *




Life for yourself is celebration of ego. Life for others is celebration of slavery. The wise does not live for someone.




* * *




Until the last enemy inside is defeated, battles are inevitable. Until there is peace inside you, you will always bring wars with you. It’s only possible to win yourself having surrendered to existence.




* * *

When the last particle of “I” disappears, a return to a source becomes possible. When return to a source is performed, the human as we know it is no more.




30.09.2010




Book of the Future


Adults will be like children, and children will show traits of adults. Only with revival of child in a soul simplicity of life will be learnt.




* * *




The war always comes after the peace – and new peace becomes simply a delay before the following war. Will the epoch of thousand-year peace finally come ?




* * *




Borders are opening. Nations are mixing up. Cultures are enriching each other. Those divided in pieces will once again become whole.




* * *




Shabby knowledge fall. Superstitions die off. When last prejudice will be rejected, your understanding of the Universe will transform greatly.




* * *




Outdated knowledge demands updating. New age demands new discoveries. The most valuable discovery of everyone will be he himself.




* * *




The time of planet’s assimilation has already passed. The time of its usage passes. The time of its transformation comes.




* * *




What’s the reason to inhabit far worlds, if own home remains deserted ? Only with transformation of own home world the transformation of others becomes possible.




* * *




Unexplored influences are awaiting their research. Unknown energies are awaiting their discovery. Mind without prejudices will be a key to the treasury.




* * *




Knowledge releases from fetters of ignorance. Knowledge makes one more reasonable. The knowledge is a result of studying of a universe. The knowledge will become the catalyst of itself.




* * *




Those living in epoch of changes complain about small disorders, not seeing a sunrise on the horizon. It is impossible to cease sunrise, but the one who raises his sight from the earth receives an enlightenment.




* * *




Uniform, transformed, young, rejoicing, singing, prospering. Such is your future world.




30.09.2010




Book of the Sleepers


The Sleeper has come to the Awakened, yawning deeply.

- I heard from others that you had reached something, which is not spoken about among simple people. Tell me please, what is that you have learnt ?

The Awakened has smiled.

- I have reached nothing. I have simply ceased to sleep anymore.

- I too do not sleep in the afternoon, and sometimes I may not sleep even at night. If it’s everything, of what you are capable – than you are not greater than I am at all.

- In the world of those awakened there are no those, who are greater, and those, who are lesser, - answered the Awakened.

- Then why do they say differently?

- The ones saying this are sleeping ones – much like you are.

- Then how do I distinguish those saying this from those awakened ?

- Look in their eyes, and if you are close to awakening – you will feel the difference.




- Why does the sight of these, how you call them, awakened ones, is shining with fire of unknown origin, disturbing me ?

- Because their eyes are opened.

- Who is this sleeper, of which you speak all the time ?

- It’s you.




* * *




A sleeping mind is full of illusions. The one plunged in sleep is like the water carrier with a sieve full of holes. Only having awakened it’s possible to see those sleeping.




* * *




The dream of the sinner in filled with expiations. The dream of holy one is filled with inspirations. The dream of evil one is filled with treachery. The dream of kind one is filled with joy. 

Only having realized all these dreams, it is possible to take the first step to awakening.




* * *




The sleep of everyone was long. Awakening demands time. For those who have awakened time is stopped.




* * *




It’s possible to become the richest one in sleep. It’s possible to become the poorest beggar in sleep. The value of awakening cannot be measured.




* * *




When you live common life – you remain in a dream. When you sleep – you remain in a doubled dream. Few ones are capable to awake truly, but those who did still live common life.




* * *




The love is transformed to hatred, and hatred pretends to be love. The love and hatred of sleepers are doomed to endlessly transform into each other.




* * *




Mind in sleep is full of illusions. Illusions of one are capable to damage minds of others. Dreams are similar to illusions. The most powerful dreams of sleepers should never come true.




* * *




It’s impossible to awake, not living in sleep. It’s impossible to fall asleep, not living in sleep. Only those learnt will confirm these words.




* * *




It’s possible to sleep in the afternoon. It’s possible to be awake at night. For once awakened there is not difference between day and night.




* * *




Having awakened, you will see sleepers around you. Having fallen asleep again, you cease to see them. Two sleeping ones will never see each other’s sleep.




* * *




Those important will remain. Those useless will vanish. The importance of everything useless is indisputable for those sleeping.




* * *




Good intentions may create hell. Bad intentions strengthen it. There is no difference between different intentions of sleeping ones.




* * *




The shyness, moved to its limit, becomes recklessness. The recklessness, moved to its limit, becomes feat. Heroes of sleepers are always full of shyness.




* * *




The faith, moved to its limit, is fanaticism. The mind, moved to its limit, is genius. Heroes of sleepers are always fanatical concerning possibilities of mind.




* * *




The joy becomes a grief, and grief of others becomes a joy. The grief and joy of sleepers never change their nature.




* * *




Awakening relieves of illusions. Awakening makes one reasonable. A mind, full of illusions, is unable to understand the beauty of awakening.




* * *




Having awakened, you become lonely. Sleeping ones cannot share the path of awakened. Awakened ones are free to aid sleeping ones to wake up.




* * *




The way of sleepers is long. The way of awakened is difficult. Life does not end with awakening.




* * *




Rescue outside is illusion. Rescue in other is illusion. Rescue from illusions comes through own awakening - and the question on saviors disappears.




* * *




The sleeping and awakened ones live in one world. The worlds of both are completely different.




* * *




Sleeping ones dream of own importance. Having awakened, they become guides of importance of Universe to those still sleeping.




* * *




Sleeping ones live in the past, hardly realizing the present. Awakened ones live in the present, presaging the future.




* * *




Nature laws, that were firm earlier, collapse under a stream of new knowledge. Only sleepers firmly believe in own pansophy.




* * *




In the beginning there was a dream. Then comprehension has come. Awakening has come after comprehension. Such is a way of the world. Such is the way of everyone.




* * *




We dream and think that we exist. We awake to see our former dream. Are we all the dream of someone another ?




* * *




It’s possible to wake up from an intolerable cold - and to see winter, reigning around you.

It's possible to wake up, having heard birds, singing behind a window, - and to find spring’s arrival.

It's possible to wake up in sweat from devouring summer’s fire, when the sun is already in zenith.

It's possible to wake up with arrival of autumn when from a last leaf falls from withering tree.

Every awakened one has its own path.




30.09.2010




Book of the Ways


There is no river without a source. The river, flowing through desert, is doomed to wither. The river without inflows can become a stream. The great rivers feed the seas.




* * *




Being useless for others, you are doomed to loneliness. Being useful to yourself you will once again find the whole new world of friends.




* * *




The happiness comes without achievements. The joy comes without prayers. The grass grows by itself. The true believe is not fanaticism.




* * *




Thousands of ways lead away and only one – to yourself. But to find one, you will have to pass through thousands.




* * *




The one chosen better way will reach destination faster than those chosen the worst. Yet both will once come to the same point.




* * *




Each beginning becomes the end, and each end becomes the new beginning. The question on existence of the beginning of the beginnings remains opened.




* * *




The past was the present. The future becomes the present. Only present always remains itself.




* * *




What was absurd yesterday, today became the nature law. Laws change - the nature remains the same.




* * *




Water sharpens a stone, making it’s smooth. Water washes stone coast, making its soft. Life will teach everyone, capable of learning.




* * *




You will create hatred, harming. You will create hatred, aiding. The love of others grows in your ability to aid yourself.




* * *




Trying to become better, you may not make it. Wishing to know more, you may not learn it. The true comprehension happens suddenly.




* * *




It is possible to come, having overcome all obstacles. It is possible to reach only by not considering them as those.




* * *




The joyful will not notice obstacles. The sad will exaggerate them. Only calm clearly sees all his path.




* * *




Time changes countries. Time changes worlds. Time changes Universes. Are their changes relative if the time itself is relative ?




* * *




Life can destroy your achievements. Life can uplift you. Only those passed the first and the second can learn calmness.




* * *




You cannot run faster than yourself. You cannot run slower than yourself. Everyone travels with its own speed.




* * *




It is easy to evade from fight. It is difficult to avoid it. The true warrior wins without battling.




* * *




Life demands movement. Life never stops. The one stopped voluntary shortens his own.




* * *




It is impossible to remember what was thousand years ago. It is impossible to know what will be  thousand years afterwards. Only the present matters.




* * *




When the peace reigns around – observe. When war storms rage nearby – observe. Only the one who saw both war and peace can learn temporariness of both. Only the one who saw both grief and happiness can learn the value of calmness.




* * *




The one blinded by happiness may not see the danger. The one blinded by anger punished himself for errors of another. Only the free is capable to find a right combination of the first and the second.




* * *




Failure gives rise to grief. Achievement of goal produces boredom. Only by refusing petty goals it’s possible to feel fullness of life.




* * *




One can disbelieve in paradise – and still live in it. One can deny hell – and still live in it. The true hell and paradise is a hell and paradise of the present.




* * *




It’s possible to trust something – and know nothing about it. It’s possible to believe in something – and never learn it. Only by rejecting blind belief it’s possible to test it on yourself.




* * *




It’s hard to accept something that changes a world picture. It’s impossible to accept something that destroys it. It’s expensive to buy new one. Only creative one is capable of making its own.




* * *




The blind belief leads to intolerance. The wonderful hope can be broken. Only love is capable to accept crash of hope and to transform belief into trust.




* * *




The one who destroyed God is doomed to loneliness. The one who created God outside is doomed to slavery. Only the one who have discovered God in himself becomes truly free.




* * *




Thousands of reasons create grief. Hundreds of reasons create delight. True joy needs no reasons.




* * *




Existence knows nothing about our plans. Existence does not take our expectations into consideration. Only those having no plans and expectations are capable to learn fullness of life.




* * *




Blind ones call themselves as clearly seeing. Deaf ones call themselves as those who have heard the voice. Dead ones call themselves normal. Will there be a place for healthy ones in a world of sick ?




* * *




Capitulation is a victory, and the victory is possible only in capitulation. Only the learnt will confirm these words.




* * *




The heavy stone sinks in a river of time – and waters of the river sharpen it. There is no instant justice.




* * *




It is possible to pass by road of life and to reach last point. It is possible to creep windbreaks and bogs to come to the same road again. Not any experience is valuable for a way.




* * *




The consciousness is capable to age and rejuvenate. For the one who has found a child in himself time is ready to turn back.




* * *




When both the past and the future disappears, only present remains. When there is only present – the time is no more.




* * *




It’s impossible to predict the duration of own life, but one can choose its width. The one who chosen the wide road will have more fellow travellers.

It’s impossible to feel taste and distinguish flashing landscapes of own life, moving with too high speed. The one hastening to live is hastening to die.

Ignorance of the general traffic regulation, as well as ignoring of other moving ones can become a cause of accident. The understanding of rules and psychology of those moving comes with experience.

Everyone starts from his last point. The point of destination is same for all.




* * *




It’s possible to travel own road, creeping. It’s possible to pass it on foot. One can soar high and fly through it. Both three options lead to one point, but only from height of the bird's flight all way is clearly visible.




* * *




Nobody came back from death doors in the same kind as he entered it. Either there was nobody to come back, or one’s clothes were different.




* * *




When you approach the border of own "I", a chasm of despair reveals before you.

When you see events and people of the past, now forever left far behind, and rush in a search of irrevocably lost, a chasm of despair lives nearby.

When you realize all senselessness of former life without awakening, a chasm of despair opens under your feet.

When you understand that it will be impossible to return, once started travelling your way, but only accelerate your steps – you accept a chasm of despair.

There is a bridge through a chasm, but it passable only alone. Those fallen into a chasm and those crossed the bridge to the end never return.




* * *




The one aspiring to slow down time will not be in time. The one hurrying events will not be in time. Only the one going with natural speed of his Way always comes and leaves in time.




* * *




The star which has fallen in hands cannot be kept.

The star which has fallen in hands cannot be sold.

It is possible to absorb its beauty, giving it the new form.

The form is not capable to show all beauty of stars.

The one who never saw start will also reject all forms.




* * *




We are blind from a birth, but not everyone realizes that he is plunged into the darkness.

There is a switch in a dark room, but is it so easy to group it in the dark ? The switch is high up, and man is small from a birth.

There are a lot of things which you will inevitably come across in darkness. They seem much more terrible, than they are actually.

Each of us has his own room, plunged in darkness. 

It is possible to accept a dark room for a native habitat and to take out judgments about world, without seeing. A simple way for many is the most attractive.

It is possible to grow gradually, and to touch walls consistently, sooner or later having come across the switch. But not all of us are given that much time.

It is possible to try to grope it, being small, and to put a finger in the socket. Not everyone is capable to endure painful shock being received and furthermore to continue searches once again. 

It is possible, moving exclusively instinctively, to upraise hands upwards and in a desperate jump to turn it on miraculously. How many people possess such inborn instinct ? 

When the switch is found, the darkness dissipates, and the room appears in its true form.

Those who stayed in darkness for too long bright light could blind for a while. 

It’s never possible to put the joy of those awakened into words.




* * *




As your own "I" is being dissolved, you start to hear the music of the heavens.

Personal desires and ambitions deform it, but are not capable to force to break off.

The one realizing his true nature becomes a tool for music.

The Awakened One, travelling the path of Existence is the source of the purest sound of stars.




29.09.2010




To the People of Now





Accident


And so you are reading these lines … an accident? And how many there were at all in your life?

Here you were born absolutely casually … Your mum somehow accidently happened to meet your father, and thus they have decided to give birth to a child - too spontaneously and casually, as you might have guessed. Don’t you accidentally remember how all this once began?

You have casually arrived in school, accidentally graduated from the institute … Your life was full of accidents totally ridiculous and even inconceivable and not predictable beforehand at times. Take, for example, this happy - casual? - coincidence when you have met your future girlfriend one early spring morning on the crossroads of two pathways, when each of you was slowly moving somewhere by the street. You lost yourself in contemplation of her and practically haven’t noticed how someone has accidentally left a cover of an opened manhole directly in your way … And then she along with other men helped pulling you out of this fetid hole. This was such an unusual acquaintance … Subsequently it has appeared that both of you worked for several years in different departments of the very same company, yet have never before met each other on work basis … strange, huh? And then you - well, certainly, accidentally, - started writing her verses, giving flowers and made a marry proposition once.

And once - do you remember? - in a fierce winter day you have completely quarreled with your parents and was thinking of abandoning your home. Was aimlessly wandering city streets under roofs of buildings, and giant icicle has fallen just a pair of meters before you, haven’t hurt you by some sort of a miracle … another accident? And for how many times did you happen to avoid similar deadly dangers subsequently? One after another - and all totally casually …

And for how many times did you accidentally have in your possession a thing, necessary for others; a remarkable and useful idea came to a mind all of a sudden; you appeared to be exactly in a proper place and in due time? And how many times your acquaintances and friends appeared to be near you so timely? Accidentally you managed to find new worthy and familiar friends … Haven’t you accidentally forgotten all that?

And what about this sky, funny cloudlet-lambs, this sun caressing your skin, this wind pulling out your hair, these snowflakes slowly falling on your tongue … does all this happen exclusively by accidents as well? Let’s take at least these mentioned snowflakes - did you ever see their beauty? With what probability are molecules of water, freezing, capable to constantly create such freakish and surprising forms? And have you had a chance to behold clouds similar to animals or, say, a heart in form? And did it happen that a recently cloudy sky near you suddenly cleared itself from clouds and sunrays started shining through formed gleam - shortly after your inner mood improved before the event? Or do you still consider these entire thing happening casually and accidentally? Or perhaps you still have no knowledge of something vital and most important about this world you live in?

You happened to have stayed in a gloomy condition of spirit for a long time once, were seriously depressed and, as a consequence, absolutely accidentally became ill. Pains of absolutely illogical nature disturbed you - either your heart stars tearing itself apart, or liver begins to moan, or a head decides to start cracking from the inside. Medics diagnosed general nervous over fatigue of an organism and advised to lie in bed for longer periods - but you surely have known that the true reason of the illness lies elsewhere. You started to look through comedy films from boredom one after another - and in a couple of days has sharply gone on the amendment, and in a week was like the newcomer. An accident?

You casually were angry with people - and fell in pools the very next moment. Casually took offense and filled your heart with hate - and almost instantly went ill. Accidentally helped someone - and wonderfully through very different circumstances life aided you in reply …

Accident, accident, accident … how many there were at all in your life? And what is, according to theorists from a science, your life if not a chain of accidental events and circumstances? But in that case … the entire Universe, and this galaxy, and this very planet, and billions living on it … are sort of an accident as well? Or perhaps you still know too little of the world you still live in?

And here and now you accidentally keep reading this casual text. Or … maybe accidents have never existed at all?

18.08.2011




America speaks


- Hello, hullo, ladies and gentlemen, misters and sisters ! We are glad to … Heck, I’m gonna to to think and speak like I am a foreigner with such speed !

Ghm, I’m sorry, my respected watch-ers, see-ers, stare-ers, and finally just the ones, who did not find anything better than to stupidly roll on a sofa in front of the TV this silent Sunday evening ! “Russia News” telecast is in the ether, and I, its permanent, though not immortal, figure, Vladimir Vladimirovich Pupkin.

Yes, all of us have awaited this unforgettable and inexcusable moment for a long while – and it has come at the long last ! After showing numerous respects, accustoming and toadying of our journalists He finally agreed to give exclusive interview in our, Russian television studio, located in Chicago. The One elected for the sake of freedom and democracy in all civilized North American continent. The One received the Award Of Peace on the public who was shocked and stunned by such impudence. The One, who prefers to conduct a vegetarian way of life without departing from the White House. The One, who has promised so much, and will promise even more. Taliban’s bane and Al-Kaide’s horror. A needle in a haystack, a genius among those who lack talent, wise man among fools. A ray of light in the empire of darkness, damn it !

But, enough of flatter epithets ! Meet Him - Barrack Hussein Obama, the president of the Jointed States of America in person!

The door slams open in a television studio and Barrack Obama enters. His face, even black, is saddened even more, dark streams of unknown origin flow down his once snow-white shirt. His eyes express a mix of alarm, bewilderment and anger.

Obama: Shit! Niggas shit ! Black as we are !

VVP: President Obama, what’s wrong with you ?

Obama(wipes the face with one of his shirt’s sleeves): Chose me? Hate me ! First chose, then not like ! Damn niggas ! Hiroshima, Niggersaki ! Nuke you, bastards ! (waves a fist of the right hand before a television camera).

VVP: Errmm..can I help you in any way ? It’s a custom tradition to bring a glass of water in such cases.

Obama(looking around in a fright) : Water? No water ! Water turns black as oil ! Mississippi, Lousiana! Niggas trick!

VVP: Mr. President, are you even in a correct condition to participate in our interview?  And are you totally and inevitably sure you do not need any sort of help ?

Obama(continuing to look around in a search of the nonexistent enemy) : Help? No help ! We help, not us ! All world, we help ! Bring democracy, spread it ! Like gardening, like me’s wife !

VVP: Oh, yeah, the topic of democratization of a free world in the American style is in the today’s agenda.

Obama: (with considerably increased activity, swinging hands, from which the splashes of dark substance continue flowing, having partially soiled the camera of one of the operators) : Yep! Democracy ! Holy shit, we did ! This way, that way, everyone gets ! Refuses – gets bomb ! No nukes, no Hiroshima, we merciful ! Agrees, makes slave. Lotta concubines, lotta’fun !

VVP: Well, it seems to me that now you have very diplomatically and politically correctly mentioned a subject of so-called “color” revolutions, whose rain has recently spilt near the borders of our country…

Obama(continuing to gesticulate actively) : We help, we buy! Lotta money, lotta credits ! Lotta printing job ! Take whole ! Democracy matters, country not matter, money not matter, no ! We good, we help ! Bring holy shit ! (Obama's face blurs in a smile). Wanna shit? (scratches out the piece which has dried up from the once flowing liquid and stretches it forward to the V.V.P.).

VVP: Faugh!

Obama: No want ? OK ! Next time, you take – we will, we make ! Demooocraaazzy! (jumps out of a table and starts to jump actively about the room of the television studio).

VVP: Well, well. So, democracy as an element of the poisoning and decomposing “soft force” …

Obama: Exactly ! We wise, learned well ! Make sex, no love, make war, not peace ! … Shitty piece ! (tears off the next piece of the dried up evil-smelling substance from his face).

VVP: Oh, heck, if you are really that wise …

Obama(jumping about a hall and clapping in palms in joy) : We smart, wise ! We Yankees ! Like monkeys ! Monkeys wise, humans from monkeys, we from monkeys too !

VVP: As far as I know, there is just a telecast “In fauna” in the next room of the studio …

Obama: We strong ! We come, killed all natives, lotta blood ! We learned ! Doesn’t matter who, we still kill ! Arabs, Russians, Latins, all same ! Lotta blood ! We mighty ! (grins in a television camera)

VVP: And so now you are face-deep in a shit …

Obama: No ! We OK, all OK ! Still eat, still sleep, still exist – all normal !

VVP: Well, and does torments of conscience not haunt you? Say, faces of killed Iraq children, occurring in your mirrors in the mornings ?

Obama: Soul ? What soul ? We need no soul, we save no soul ! No SOS, no … asses ! We save ass, that’s all ! Fat ass, we take care (poses his *ss before the nearest television camera, which has approached just in time). Pretty simple, eh?

VVP: As they say, it looks like you have just dotted one's "i's" and cross one's "t's" without even noticing.

Obama: What ? Me not understand ! Me’s yankee, dunno forget that !

VVP: OK! (aside, in a whisper) Oh hell, how I do agree with you now, my black-assed colleague !

Obama(having calmed down and again having taken seat for a table) : More talk, no? Me good talker ! Me talks, talks, talks … no deeds, just talks ! Lotta fun !

VVP: Yeah, it’s really difficult to neglect your oratory skill.

Obama: Yep ! Democracy style ! Talk, talk, talk. Do different, keep talking ! Blah-blah-blah … great disguise !

VVP: But, apparently, the world starts to see through this illusion, for long time obvious to some…

Obama(looking around in fear) : They see? Who see ? We not care ! Lotta money, mouth shut ! We talk, no they ! Silence, no mass media – we are media ! All equal, some equal more ! Democracy!

VVP: Now, apparently, I am starting to understand, why such a popular and defiled word starts exactly with the “D” letter …

Obama(in confusion) ? D…dunno ? No ? De…despots ? We kill despots for oil ! D…dinners ? We good dinners, fat asses ! D … devil ? We fight devil, we Empire of Goodness ! Gut bless us !

VVP: Excuse me, I take it that what you really wanted to say is “God bless us” ?

Obama: God ? No, we know no God ! We forget. We just kill. Just eat, sleep, drink. Again, again. Endless circle, no end. We Gut Nation! Damnation!

VVP: So, does this really mean that you do not consider yourselves as chosen nation, destined to make happy millions of unknown people by democratizing them … to the death ?

Obama: We are ! Are we !? Chosen ! Like Jews, like Britain ! Holy three ! Arabs no chosen, Latins no chosen, we chosen ! Niggas no chosen… shitty niggas! (catches on tongue the drop of excrements of voters, which has flown down from hair, and spits it out with passion in the face of the V.V.P.). You not chosen, too !

VVP: Enough ! Such behavior passes all moral boundaries, even though I am not sure you have any of those remained !

Obama: Got it ?! Retribution ! You refuse, you get retribution ! Democracy, fuck you !

VVP: Enough, the interview ends now. Security, please take care of our deranged visitor ! Try not to cause him too much harm, scientists of the future will surely need this brain for studying the reasons of similar is intellectual-national illnesses.

Two bashers who have entered the television studio inconsiderately take Obama in hands and try to force him out. Obama shouts and spits, threatening with all torments of a Hell, beginning from sale in sexual slavery to the Blacks and finishing with the promise to arrange the next grey-buro-crimson-in-speck revolution. At last, having gotten a blow in the chest from one of the guards, he calms down. And only his gleaming black eyes still shows the degree of his aversion of similar aversion of Their Way. Finally, all three silhouettes disappear from a the vision of video cameras.

VVP(wiping his face with a hand) : So, my dear watch-ers, see-ers and stare-ers … he is such a man, this mister Community Organizer Barrack Hussein Obama ! But let us not judge harshly, it’s simply not their day today. And the tomorrow too … and the day after the tomorrow. For our ancestors did spoke right : “If you spit in the world – the world will clear itself, and if the world spits on you – you shall surely sink”. And as they say, may the Gut give them good health … and may the God have mercy on their souls !

This was Vladimir Vladimirovich Pupkin, permanent, yet not immortal television figure of the “Russia News” TV show. And as our American friends would surely speak – “Have a good day ! OK ?”.




27.09.2010




And all diseases will be gone


I stopped. I stopped when have noticed a picture, totally breaking all conceivable and inconceivable laws of human logic. It wasn’t simply strange … it was … somewhat ridiculous … amazing.

For a couple of years already I have been a regular visitor of this establishment, was there on a two-three month basis, I got used to behold yellow walls with shelled and falling off plaster, constantly sad faces of its people … used to see queues of older persons all with lowered heads and sad expressions on them, used to observe how some of them not without the help from other colleagues have been forced to wait in longest many-hours queues in order to receive a priceless ticket, granting one the right to learn one’s fate - for even they, these people, tried to appear here as seldom as ever possible, tried not to be at all.

I had to come here time and again - my current condition didn’t allow to me to do anything different. I had to stand in queues among same brothers-by-misfortune, to listen to silently-cold voices of doctors, ascertaining deterioration of your disease and constantly diligently drawing something on your out-patient card, without troubling themselves with any comments on that subject, though.

I got accustomed to this place, despite all its absurd. I could do no other. I cared no longer of what my doctors would tell me - my own sentence I have known for quite a while already and for a long time have reconciled to it. Different thoughts occupied my mind - I thirsted to know why these men so diligently avoided to look you in the face while reading your diagnosis, leaving you no options of survival - not in this life at least, not during ten incoming years. I was truly curios why they, snow-white like a funeral shroud in this house of grief, only multiplied this grief with their indifferent faces, cold voices …

Was a monthly ascertaining of the absence of any positive changes in my illness really desired by me? Whether I really needed those endless inspections, required by no one, even myself? No. Not for this I thirsted. I thirsted for words - a kind word of participation and understanding. I desired to hear words of support from them - just to know that some other can share your pain … simply to be aware of that. I wanted to behold a shine of joy - a joy of life - even in someone’s eyes, once in many months … But, obviously, I desired too much … too much in this life - and hopes of mine could never come true.

Probably for that particular reason now I have stopped, being amazed with what I have seen. I would, certainly, not able to say anything meaningful first tens of seconds, if some casual passer-by has suddenly decided to inquire why was I standing with my mouth widely opened, hardly incorporating cold winter air. There were no such ones - and that’s probably for the better.

That house of grief which I got used to observe for those almost two years, which I knew practically thoroughly, - it was no more both inside and outside. A sad inscription, engraved by dark gray letters “City hospital № 17” was gone, as well as lattices on windows and always-rude security guard, wiggling from constant sleep debt. Instead of an inscription there was a bright … a signboard of sorts … have no idea how to name it, where new words were imprinted: “Town house of healing. We are happy to wish you a good health!” Lattices on windows disappeared as well, and there was a shining light, coming from windows … and when I have habitually risen up by stairs, I was greeted by an elegantly-dressed young man, who said something like “Come in, please. May you be always in good health!” and magnanimously opened me a door.

Shortly after that I had to come to my senses for at least ten minutes in an entrance hall. And this hall itself changed as well. No more there were decayed walls and tiny cloakroom with eternally snapping and rude woman of thirty five years. There was a sort of large parquet hall instead - walls changed their color to grass-greenish, and instead of a cloakroom attendant Masha there was a smiling woman of thirty years, who, when I have approached her, also welcomed me, kindly helped to take off my coat, and, having given me a label, once more wished me good health.

To tell the truth, I didn’t expect all that. I got so much accustomed to former “yellow house”, and to see it totally changed was truly surprising for me. Even more intriguing were new people - attentive and, I shall not be afraid of this word, really sympathizing.

When I have climbed a new beautiful twisted ladder on a second floor, my eyes surprised me one more time. Narrow, constantly badly lightened corridors and men, crowding in them, were gone, as well as sad-yellow walls and endlessly-long line of doors with diverse and hard-to-understand names of specializations of these doctors - instead there were wide, brightly lighted and spacious corridors with some sort of bluish-white (and, as it seemed to me, as if even a bit shining) shade walls, and there was practically no trace remained from a heap of doors with badly readable names of specialties of these “doctors”, eagerly not expecting you behind them.

Amazed, I was walking forward through this corridor, badly realizing where were my sick feet now dragging me along. I was wandering and overheard some surprisingly beautiful quite melody, being poured on a premise … for an instant it seemed as if I recognize it - it contained familiar tonality, however I had to admit further that despite was tonality is familiar to me, its rhythm was totally new. Nevertheless this music was surprisingly beautiful … so astonishing that I was compelled to shed a few tears myself, listening to it. But if only the music … Some unknown aroma penetrated this mystically transformed corridor - it was unusual, as well as the mysterious melody, and pleasant at the same time. 

I was slowly moving through the corridor, looking around and never ceasing to be surprised. It seemed that this painfully familiar “City hospital № 17” ceased to be itself anymore and became a … museum of fine arts, at the very least. I say “museum” just because habitual to me former naked walls were now decorated with pictures - ones of our classics … images of love, joy and “simple human happiness”, which all of us have been searching for so desperately.

I … have no idea how to describe you all that, which words to use when talking to you, ones reading those lines of text right now, so that you can understand me … so that I can share with you all that oceanic variety of feelings, which have overflown me in that moment … I felt as if I have finally arrived not into some pitiful and painful hospital, but in the paradise instead … or at least into the expectation room on a threshold to it.

I was travelling down this mysterious corridor and saw no other fellow sufferers … no sign of eternally arguing patients, no smell of spirit filling a premise, there were no visible nurses and medical brothers, pushing their carts by this narrow corridor - there was nothing … normal… habitual, to say so.

When I at last have approached the first carved door in this corridor - almost during that very instant of time a doctor opened it and came to me. A doctor … to tell the truth, one could hardly name him a doctor for now. A one habitual to me, anyway. A man of approximately twenty five years old, dressed in dark blue dressing gown, smiled to me and said: “Don’t hesitate to come in. We are truly glad to see you”, - and, having that said, he welcomed me to his office, coming after. Obediently I entered the place.

And when I did that my eyesight has decided to deceive me once more.

There we no traces of walls, covered with advertising of all-brand-new “universal” medicines, neither cots nor couches, no signs of iron medical little tables, already so familiar to me. There were wide carved oak chairs instead, as well as some beautiful (but, unfortunately, unfamiliar to me) pictures, soft carpet floor, once again some pleasant smell (however, it differed from what I have encountered in the corridor), quiet music, flowing in the office’s air … there were so much more to behold.

Come in, sit down, please, - the man told and helped me to sit down on a convenient oak chair. - What troubles you today, sir?

To be truthful, I was taken aback. Whether he really has no idea what has been bothering me all that time?

- I take it that you are surprised? There is nothing to worry about, it has been like that for quite a while, - he answered in the meantime.

- What exactly has been like that?

- The house of healing, most certainly. It has been in such a state for a long time.

- But I was in your hospital yesterday …, - I tried to object.

- Yesterday? You did not visit us yesterday. You have not been here for several decades.

I was astonished. Did … did he knew me? And … several decades? I distinctly remembered that was here yesterday and my attending physician ordered me to come back tomorrow … thanks God, my memory still served me well enough.

- Do you know who I am?

- Yes, most certainly, - said the doctor and warmly smiled once more. - You entered this office and your biometric parameters have been analyzed. You were there ten years, two months and three days ago since your last visit.

- But … that’s impossible … I … I don’t understand … yesterday … today … a new building … signboard … music … what … what happened?

- You ask me so many really interesting questions - I see that you are an inquisitive and reasonable interlocutor, - that man told me. - But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. So, how did you name it … a hospital? A house of pain, right? But … we have not been using these words for many years already … unless there should be a pain? Both health and cure - that’s what should be, and no way for pain and suffering. We bring no suffering, we bring health.

- And the music …

- Music? Yes, that’s our new melodic rhythm for the last year. World scientists have discovered, that exactly similar tonalities lead to a sincere and nervous relaxation and, as a natural consequence, to improving of regenerative processes in the cells of live beings.

- And a smell … what’s a strange smell is that?

- Nothing more than a recent invention of a new branch in the science which have been called as “smell-infology”, as far as I remember. This mix of aromas improves a brain activity and have a relaxing and calming influence on a human organism. Certainly, there are lots of other aromas, serving different purposes, but this particular one suits us best of all.

- And the pictures on the walls?

- Oh, mind you, we are not a bombproof shelter of the times of the Last War, right? Such an interface forms a positive spirit in our … in our potentially healthy people, and aids them a lot. After all, you must have certainly heard of the last researches of the United Alliance Of Medics, who have discovered, that our organism is capable to recover by itself from any known in the present moment (and, possibly, any future potential) illness by keeping an appropriate inner positive spirit? So, well, such an interior is used to promote its formation as well. It’s that simple.

- And how … I … I still haven’t understood … pray tell … tell at last who … are you?

- You ask too many questions … forgive me, for I cannot answer them all. Our time … time is for an outcome … it’s - the most valuable human resource …

Something suddenly started hammering in my ears so I could hardly distinguish separate words, being spoken by the mysterious … doctor.

- Each one … can … must … himself … desire … be healthy … then everything becomes … possible. Remember that … well.

-But … tell me … who are you?

- We … yours … future … - last words finally reached me.

And just a moment later a knock at a door transferred me into the next world.

* * *

- So, woke up finally, Ivan Petrovich?

- Pavel … Pavel Petrovich,- I whispered, still coming to my senses and silly beholding the decayed yellow walls which have surrounded me, and own iron bed on which I was laying.

- Yeah … sure … who the heck cares. Wonderfully, wonderfully. Just remarkably, you know. 

And having that said a man in a white dressing gown bent over me, looked in the eyes somehow semi-malevolently and smiled.

- Now we are gonna to put you a clyster, Ivan Petrovich, and all your diseases - and he smiled once more - they will be surely forever gone …




24.06.2011




An unofficial appeal to the book publishers


So, you must have worked well. I guess that was not easy. Most likely, you are happy with your own result. And whether it was possible to play this wondrous game better ?

It’s thanks to you the world has seen million of new books and learned hundreds thousands of new names. It’s thanks to you was born such a symbolical concept as “best-seller” – something which is being sold exclusive good, bringing you well-earned silver coins. It’s thanks to you each and every self-respected person of intelligent look could respect himself a little bit more thanks to existence of yet another volume of yet another classic in his yet another private library which he, as it commonly goes, started and safely finished reading on a second or a third page. It’s thanks to you the mankind could transform its idea of what a “real literature” must look like. And ceased to read anymore thanks to your efforts as well.

You became a great wall, consisting of one thousand and one brick, connected together by a glue of a thirst of profit. You mixed together solution of din words of modern magazines and best-sellers and transformed literature into a business, having added spices of marketing for better taste. And then you started giving this poison to one generation after another, slowly and methodically killing a sense of beauty in them – because it isn’t so really obligatory for those who will soon come to your about-books brothel to buy a next volume of a next author with so colorfully ornamented cover. Collectors of candy wrappers !

It’s not a question of desire to serve as the conductor of verbal wisdom for younger generations – oh, if only it was that way ! It’s simply a question of profit. Simply for that reason you sell what is being sold better, and if it’s ever necessary to sell something quicker than usual – you put a “best-seller” label on it. Nothing personal, it’s just business. Nothing wise, however, as well. What a good business is that !

And what of the love, honesty, justice, after all – there is no demand for these? But how immense must be a demand for something different ! For all these modern healers with fiery spheres in their hands and gilded nimbuses over their heads, promising wonders of healing in the next dozens of read pages. For all this infinite, as it seems, stream of “fantasy”, riveted day by day by newly born authors in their attempts to glorify own names – it’s a pity, however, that a plot from these books becomes forgotten after a week or so, and except for a plot in a dry rest there is only a philosophy of “revenge and destroy” kind that remains. For all these political investigations, speeches, trends, brands, monographs of the ones-in-power … as if it were not politicians who have plunged this world into a chaos of wars and mutual hatred of nations ! For all these new opuses of “theologians”, who have transformed words of Christ ad His apostles to service their self-interest, and letter after a letter, treatment after a treatment darking and polluting their original primary meaning ! And, certainly, we must not forget the books of about-computers subject, which become outdated in a year or two – just a remarkable source of income on a prime cost to a price ratio. Truly, is it such a good saltwort ? But whether there is much salt in it ?

But even when someone comes to your literary magazines with a request to publish something – not for himself, without money, for those reading your papers – you prefer to keep death silence. Yes, it doesn’t interest you, it’s not in a format of your publishing houses. Who will ever read such things ? Probably, only those who have become indifferent to ones such as you.

Well, continue to sell rather than publish. Continue to promote and enslave new authors. Continue to give birth to best-sellers, moving with a mainstream crowds. All of this won’t help you any longer, not anymore. And if once for the down work of building a great wall people who have flown above it won’t even shake your hands – be not surprised.




18.09.2012




An unofficial appeal to the false saviors


You address I today, pseudo-saviors. You address I now, false-rescuers. Word of mine is for you, lying prophets. My word is for you, into temptation of external salvation calling. My appeal is for you, of the times of incredible changes who know nothing. You I am addressing now, ones multiplying in quantity immeasurably, as it has been foreseen by the Son of the Son of Men earlier. My texts are for you, into false rescue inviting and into the abyss souls of humans throwing for the darkness to feast on them. My current word is for you, oh demagogues of spirit and terms. It’s for you, pseudo-saviors.

Confess honestly that nothing you do know of the terms and times and that ignorance of yours to make look like a knowledge you try, by temptations of own ego being forced to do so. Whether it’s for you to know, at the Door never knocking, in own egoism and willfulness staying for centuries, I wonder? Whether it’s for you to know of the signs of events named, when each and every text of just prophets you try to deform and muddle to please that willfulness of yours? What can you know of the inspiration prophetical if Soul of yours has ceased to feel the divinity long ago already? What are you capable to know of the transformation spiritual, ones who others trying to seduce and into sheep transforming with that speeches of yours, in the lie swimming? Whom are you aspiring to turn to the Light, in darkness for long time floundering with that Soul of yours? And whether your followers will look similar, with rage and contempt to people filled up to the top of their souls, I wonder? Of the inner nature of your way you know, truly, and the final point of destination you feel, really - yet don’t turn off from a path mentioned, by inertia keep moving still! And where will the blind one lead the blind ones if not into holes and pits only, dug by enemies of human race with your hands thoroughly? 

Why did you and those similar start stating that for those on streets of cities stepped from their homes on a day predefined a salvation of their Souls will be granted automatically unfairly? Or do they need to start stupidly “believing” in you and you only for their expectations egoistical of own salvation to be fulfilled? The place in the Kingdom of God is earned by the force of aspiration of own purification only, or have you ceased to remember that? And what is the expression of aspiration mentioned if not in your affairs in this world, how do judge? For based on human affairs on the Court they’ll be recognized! Or have you decided, perchance, that your “belief” is the only thing ever necessary? But dead is the belief with no action, and incapable to live without a trust to life and ways of the Maker wise. Each one is capable to pass a trial, given to him in this life, but you have no desire to pass own way to joy and triumph spiritual leading! Creep like zombies you do, forcing others to do the same!

Of the tasks, by Christ performed, whether you know? Of the goals, on the Heavens planned, whether you have any understanding? Or do you consider, perhaps, that by His feat performed He, the greatest, did relieve you from the necessity of own awakening? The road did He show you to own salvation through the Truth, spoken by Him and His apostles! But deformed you those words millennia ago and straight into the darkness of false salvation have you been leading Souls of men since that time. Terrible your fate on the Court Divine may become for lasciviousness similar soon enough! No one is ever relieved of the task of own redemption and awakening, through thoughts and acts achieved, or are you unable to comprehend this simple truth currently? And whether herds, led by you, have done much in this life, frenziedly in ecstasy fanatical each other hitting and with blood of others earth aspiring to fertilize for that belief of theirs? Or is salvation of the Soul of man in such actions consists, I wonder? Like crusaders from fanaticism religious to exterminate and humiliate others you desire, as lowest ones compared to yourselves considering them untimely, but how heavy is the cross of such a way, whether you truly feel?

Of the hordes of yours, earth flooding, has been told for a long time already, pseudo-prophesying. Because of ones like you people have started to consider events upcoming a fairytale and of the next date, “discovered” by you, mock and laugh only. But rises the nature already against the rage of human and excesses bloody more actively, and catastrophes men start building themselves. Evil of man on a bowl of scales of justice invisible is almost pouring out from edges, and who and what will put on a bowl of goodness and salvation of this world for now, if thanks to you he has believed that unnecessary this deed is for his own salvation? Oh, how crafty calls of yours and false are hopes, given to the living ones of this world, pseudo-saviors! Or have you truly concluded that with no love and kindness of heart men can save this world and themselves at once, in lies of yours having believed? How artful such slyness, oh deceiving ones desiring to be deceived! How strong is arrogance and contempt of yours to those led by you on a dark road from love and joy of life directly to the clutches of fanaticism and frenzy! Never does a road selected by you lead into redemption, and that you know perfectly.

Like churchmen of official religions do you deform texts for the sake of your own gold-lovability. A fanatical armies of zombies you do craft. All have you muddled already, and claw and bite each other soon you will start. Easy ways you constantly seek, leading people by them into nothingness. Stop your madness and let people feel and decide for themselves of where they are going - into the heavens of salvation or the destruction of their home world! A right was granted for them to choose their way. And whether anyone did grant you the right to choose for them, I wonder? And will I see the end of the madness of your crowds, I wonder?

So behold your lies and a chasm, spreading before your feet. And whether the one, leading others into a chasm will not fall in it in the first place, I wonder?




03.06.2011




An unofficial appeal to the lawyers


Pray tell, whether it’s true, that cultivation of Honor and Conscience is just not present in the curriculums of your high schools ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that only losers in law colleges become court enforcement officers, for they are simply unusable for anything better than that ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that there is a private mutual responsibility among lawyers, and one must donate 666 silver coins as a first initiation step into their sect ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that Constitution of the Russian Federation at present is a sample of the best collection of jokes of all thieves and freaks ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that you are eager to become lawyer of the Devil himself, as long as his henchmen will pay you the fee of at least thirty silver coins ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that you have become both soul and conscience of the overseas nations, which are dying out, long time ago ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that you have replaced the Law of God with the law of human, and since then the love and divinity have been trampled by thirst of a profit and safely buried under a pile of codes and certificates ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that your head is capable of containing one thousand and one more text of the human law, and the Soul have forgotten almost all Divine ones ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that when defending obviously guilty one, you secretly whisper to yourselves such a prayer : “Oh my God, please forgive me !” – but you are doing it so silently, being afraid to be overheard, that it’s not even being heard by the God himself ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that the laws, created by you, are not fit even into a thousand and one piece of paper, and for the Divine Precepts even a single one – is just too many.

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that yours honor and conscience often cost no more than the paper, on which the laws, respected by you, are written ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that guilty ones often became innocent, and innocent once were often made guilty, thanks to your assiduous efforts ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that it’s possible not to know any of your laws – and to remain the righteous man, as well as it’s possible to know all of them by heart – and to remain sinner.

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that your laws constantly contradict one another, thus reflecting all inner chaos of your misunderstanding of a nature of things ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that your earth laws and destined to serve the interests of the ruling minority first and foremost ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that you will willingly justify a criminal and punish a victim if the Nth point of Kth code orders you to do so ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that the Soul of a man, which has not been dirtied by excrements of your System, have no need for any of your self-made laws ?

Pray tell, whether it’s true, that you judge others based on your own temporal understanding, thus interfering with the eternal judgment of the God ?

Pray tell, do you realize that the day will come when the God will judge even you, judges, by His most fair Law ?




11.12.2010




An unofficial appeal to the parasites


You address I today, mother Earth exploiting for your greed and avarice. You address I today, juices of human trust sucking endlessly. You address I today, ones consuming yet not giving back. You address I today, knights avaricious and thievish. You address I today, ones bathing in a sweet swill of own defects and of the way of ascension of human Soul forgotten. My word is for you, beings terrestrial and underground. My word is for you, stings of yours for the sake of others blood in their bodies and affairs sticking. My word is for you, of the work of Spirit who have forgotten, with a blissful laziness it having replaced. Word of mine is for you, parasites of this world, unreasonable.

Or have you forgotten those words of one’s affairs and requital appropriate? Or have you decided that not for you that was spoken, yet for others, foolish ones, on hump of whose you, oh smart beings, can travel further on? For live ones that was told, but whether you still live, I wonder, on tears, sweat and sufferings of others feeding? Or have you concluded, perchance, that exploiting others like that, as if they were cattle for you, will be neglected easily and from the hammer of punishment you will manage to escape perfectly? But who demonstrates those traits bestial in the first turn if not those, treating others as such? 

Have you not drunk enough blood of humans, your scaly bellies growing constantly? Whether you will keep yourself with those tentacles of yours on spiritual bodies of those living just life, when tears of heavens will start purifying them soon enough? Washed away you will be in an instant, like tiny chips swimming you will be in muddy waters, to water drain flowing. But predefined is the way of those dirty streams, for always downwards they flow, and, having a non-return point crossed, in depths of sewers are being washed off, sobbing at last. But even the last tears of them - are crocodile ones, muddy.

Or do you think, by chance, that no sort of justice is present in that world, and indefinitely can you parasitize in it? The time was given for each and every living one to make up his Soul and mind, yet having almost run out already, for on a new stage of evolution the universe is rising right now, and the predicted revision of everyone’s deeds is not far behind by all means. Last life is granted before the audit mentioned in thick world in bodies physical - but even that last chance for survival in urns you throw unreasonably, and in a crimson flame start burning and burying.

Blood and tears of others in your hands you continue keeping, and how will you present it to the God himself in His Court? To splash out all those possessions you’ll try from blood-stained hands of yours, but whether you will be able to, I wonder? And in what moisture have you been washing those hands of yours if not in sky tears, of you, dying ones, crying? And laugh at those tears you do, silencing voices of own conscience, and mock you do, crafty ones of this world remaining. Whether you know, what is going to happen with similar ones, I wonder? To drink heavenly tears mentioned you’ll be obliged to soon enough, and how painfully and bitterly that would be for you, in sweet of avidity and fog of illusions living? 

Or do you believe that only to consume endlessly you can, giving back to the world nothing in return practically, and highest sort of cunning of yours is that? To deceive man you can, but no powers to elude from the Law of Divine Justice you are given. Vision and hearing organs of parasites do atrophy steadily, and what happens with blind ones, to holes creeping, have been told already long ago, rightfully. What will remain after you in this world for others’ joy and consolation - have you thought, I wonder? And if a naked zero remains silently - would thy cost more than that, I ask thee? For based on everyone’s affairs and deeds he’s given.

Rob and deceive people you do, as smart ones considering yourself during those unrighteous actions. Or have you concluded that mind and Spirit are the same? Boundless the meanness of thy minds have become. Endless the laziness of thy hearts has become. Uncountable the greed of thy hands has become. Tragic the fate of thy Souls has become.

And if the planet is going to be purified soon enough - whether you have thought, from whom it will be cleared first and foremost? From time to time you do feel that with rest of your dimmed conscience, truly. Or do you believe that straight into chaos this world you can roll infinitely, and for miles and miles suffer your excesses it will? Excess of civilizations long-forgotten it didn’t suffer, and those of current parasites won’t sustain endlessly. With tears of world oceans will it flood you, with air tornadoes will it scatter you, with earth shifts and failures will it absorb you, with beams of sun will it burn you. Scream then will you, but too late for you. Cry then will you, but with no reason for you. For by own deeds one is being judged and gifted.

For what reason unknown on the ground you still creep for a while, never lifting one’s eyes and admiring the sun? Or do eyes of yours see the beauty of sky no more, or do they prefer not to? Like insects you do creep, as strong and powerful ones considering yourself for the time being, and the magnificence and greatness of heavens have no desire to behold.  Oh, if only like birds could you soar freely, no more wings those for stings vile would you trade! Of the joy of birds, singing dawn praise to the sky what do you know? Of the heavenly azure, visible for them, have you any idea, really? Of the beauty of the infinite higher world all you have forgotten already, in excrements of egoism swimming! Why no wish to fly like the birds have you, for no one was stripped of this possibility once, and only the human Soul itself closes Doors those, opened previously. Never it’s possible to express the joy and happiness of sky messengers in mere words! 

So behold your ways unjust, and make thy choice fatal, in knowledge of the causes and results staying. And what is your egoism, if not a crime? And what are your self-burned wings, if not your punishment?




15.05.2011




An unofficial appeal to the politicians


You address I today, power usurpers. My appeal today is for you, ones trampling people with your unjust heel, oh over proud ones. My word is for you, mother Earth on hundreds pieces dismembering, like a killed trophy. My message is for you, wars provoking and world with blood of nations fertilizing. Mighty ones of this world yourself considering, possessing the right to decide human fates yourself considering. Word of mine is for you, politicians of this world.

Like a dirt from human waste emerge you upwards, not sinking, in waters of national ignorance bathing. To the power you go with methods bloody, crafty and cruel, over the heads of people much more worthy going. Slyness you have already learned in that way of regression long ago, considering it ascension unreasonably. To deceit others you have learned millennia ago in the way mentioned of self-interest and human excess. Tyranny and cruelty long have you accepted and adopted, a way to the tops lowest with your elbows punching. Whether much does that knowledge and skill of yours cost for the world eternal, I wonder? Thirty silver coins, and never more.

Laws to serve your self-interest you do write. Flaunt with imaginary bragging you do, as if for world nations truly serving - but suffer those nations still under your rule. For how many times already have you been thrown from those illusory earth thrones, whether you remember? Nothing you do learn from faults of your forerunners! Rob you the nations, to you entrusted, red caviar over both your cheeks stocking. On the graves of children and old men you keep dancing, of the economic growth keep chatting simultaneously. Of the cultural revival you keep babbling, into debauchery with fornication people plunging continuously. Not to revive countries you have come, but to suck last juices, regaling, instead. Deadly poison that moisture is, yet its effect is delayed for a bit. And not a Socrat you are to drink that poison and not to writhe - one way or another to do that you’ll have soon enough.

The uniform world you have broken off and on the pieces torn apart, human foolishness and hatred having exploited. Now pit people of various countries you do, profit own from wars mentioned gathering and counting up. How to unite people are you going? On the basis of hatred and rage only probably. Of patriotism you talk profusely, men sending on slaughters freely and eagerly. Will you desire to go in front lines on massacres mentioned soon, oh peaceful ones, to own country devoted? Terrified you’ll be to do that, and that you know perfectly.

Your nations you have been considering as cattle for a long time already, and treat people you accordingly. Of the justice eons ago you’ve forgotten, and indulge the humiliation of people you further. No more a purpose they are, yet means instead, and despise them you do. But if all people those spit on you simultaneously - whether you’ll sink in that gratitude of those who haven’t elected you, I wonder? Or do you guess, probably, that for long the Earth will suffer your idiocy? Criminals, into the power who’ve crawled, do the Earth need you any longer? Or do you hope, perchance, that dead as a deader the Earth is, and by a human blood in wars you provoke can you fertilize it with no court and punishment? Both the first and the second are upon your heads already, or don’t you feel it yet?

Whether your television lies will ever be ceased? Whether brainwashing of human beings will be stopped? Whether your bravado and puffing up will finally bother you? Like monkeys you’ve become already! And whether similar representatives of human civilizations, disappeared in darkness of past epochs, have turned into monkeys, I wonder?

Or have you concluded, possibly, that law divine not for you was written, and chosen ones in own eyes exclusively you have become? Or have you decided that hands of yours are pure for now? How deaf to appeals of simple people you’ve made yourself!  Whether they will listen to your opinion further, ones, whom a gold-bringer cattle you’ve considered? One step before the abyss you are standing for now, lords of this world yourself assuming! Never do you learn from mistakes of your ancestors, truly!

For how long to emerge from chasms unknown are you going, people in these abysses leading directly and inevitably? Till what time people of this world will you plunder, covering yourself with self-invented laws time and again? Up to what degree tears of human grief in tubes of self-love are you planning to boil? Till what minute, hour and year your slaughter of each other will be conducted, and common men a wasted material in slaughters mentioned will be? Your time is coming to an end finally, whether you feel it or not!

Inscrutable are the ways of the Maker, and whether you know of the limits of His patience? Are you not afraid to overflow bowls of harm, caused by you, once? Great does influence of yours deeds spread through countries, to you invisible … Why do you keep gathering stones in your bags, to a Court travelling, or into the sky are you planning to throw them further? Fall will that stone thrown back on the head of yours soon, and you never know the place and time, where and when overtake you that requital will. Why are you destroying yourself so imprudently? Awake from self-complacency of own ego, or too late will it be! Those stones of yours, thrown earlier, are flying back already, and if repentance is not found in Souls of yours, their speed increases greatly with each instant of time passing. With a true service to own nations from your side stones those are being melted! Or have you forgotten the essence of service mentioned ages ago totally? Never explained on the fingers can it be, really …

Or have you no desire to lead world nations to prosperity, in fact? Or have you no wish to unite countries isolated, so that no more in such quantities you are needed? Or have the purse more attractive than the life of Spirit own become to you? Or have the voice of your conscience been silenced definitely? 

Let the time judge each and every one of you accordingly and people take out decisions theirs. And if the people, tormented by you, will stand up once and with a broom of will throw you away to reaches unreachable, whether there will be a place for you to run to, oh ones, who’ve been running from themselves for so long already?




16.05.2011




An unofficial appeal to the priests


You I address now, ones listening and ones not heard. You I address now, who the Word of His Son deformed for your own sake and from your own misunderstanding. You I address now, ones, trading the God. You I address now, ones, who are betraying Him.

Word of mine is for you, unholy fathers. Word of mine is for you, priests.

For a long time already many of you have lost last particle of that sanctity, apostles of Son Divine which have possessed. For a long time already you lack the eagerness to purify souls of humans. For a long time already you lack the understanding of Divine Laws, laws of the world spiritual. For a long time already there is no sensation of harmony in your souls – and God does not live in your temples.

Whom do you appeal to in shouts heartrending, prayers mournful performing ? Whom do you pray to, like idols bashing with heads of yours painted boards, called as icons ? Whose flame do you aspire to support, lighting candles in temples of yours ? Whether can you explain, why the silvered water you have started to call sacred ? For a long time already have you forgotten the true essence and meaning, and only the ritual form remained, dead as dead.

Do you think, really, that by selling the God you serve Him still ? Oh, not Him, not anymore.

No one gave you the right to pardon errors of human beings, sins releasing back home into a distances unknown by waving those censers of yours. It’s you who have this right misappropriated, having holy texts deformed centuries ago.

No one gave you the right to speak on behalf of God to commoners, who trusted you. On behalf of your own can you only do that – but will words of yours will cost much that way around ?

No one gave you the right to trade portraits of Highest Spirits, icons named, in institutions of yours, churches called. For are these icons necessary really to address in hearts those Spirits immortal ?

No one gave you the right to replace the fire purifying of awakening spirit with wax candles of yours. For impossible it is to replace spiritual with material, and if the first exists without the second, the second never exists without the first.

No one gave you the right to store bones of people, named sacred by you, when they leave this world in a journey to the Spiritual one, into your bosoms. For it’s not the bones that are sacred, but the heat of human’s heart, turning to the God in its holy impulse.

No one gave you the right to replace fast the essence of ablution and purification spiritual with those of water material. For it’s not the water itself that purifies us, may it be three times in silvery tubes boiled, but desire of our spirit of purification named.

No one gave you the right to limit the residence of God to dome markets of yours, churches nicknamed. For the whole world is a domain of the eternal God, and each of us has His part as well.

No one gave you the right to do all that mentioned. It’s you who have stolen it, and great is responsibility of yours for such thievery, for it’s the God whom you are stealing from. For it’s the people, trusting you, whom you are deceiving. Like blind ones lead you them into the pits – but who will fall in it the first soon enough, I wonder ?

Those in disagreement you damn and curse. Those seeking the God in the hearts of theirs without directions from yours you call disbelievers. Fighting with each other over the doctrines you are, merciful ones.

Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you put witches afire previously, oh holy and just ones ? Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you tortured people in casemates of yours ? Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you organized “sacred” bloody campaigns ? Or do you think you have changed much since then ? Perhaps, not trying to kill those not consent with you on spot now you are.

But until now you, peaceful ones, have still been fighting among yourselves, on silliest occasions possible. For the service of yours have business of yours become and no need for God live and just you have anymore. And if the God has come to all of you this very instant – what would you tell Him ? Whether you have made correct quotation of your services and whether the demon of errors have not crept into the calculations of your prices ? So know, that it’s the golden calf whom you have been worshipping for a long time already – for when the sanctity leaves soul of human, it’s the self-interest the takes its place soon.

Mercenary ones among false ones – and so few true ones … but all self-interest comes to an end once in a while nevertheless. On the Dread Judgment it comes. And neither the golden crosses, nor the baked candles save you there. And mourn and cry in desperation will everyone who have dimmed the fire of his spirit under a stream golden, and the voice of soul, named conscience, have made silent.

The last chance you are given to wash away your guilt with worthy affairs, with true aid to the human’s soul instead of its illusion, which you have been assiduously supporting.

Will you be able to use this chance truly, I wonder ?

So give yourself the answer in the calm loneliness of your spirit, and travel the path your heart desire and calls you into.




20.10.2010




And on the screen


A blow – and the opponent has bent. Running jump – and a kick in  a stomach. The opponent falls down. A rattle from a throat.

Blow. Blow. Blow.

He was finishing him off – beating the lying one. The rival – the enemy ! – has no more forces to resist – even to rise up – and to strike back.

He would surely strike back – if he had risen, of course. And that’s why he should not be given that chance. He must be – finished off. He has been pursuing this bastard for so long … through half of a country … and has finally caught up. The destroyed family … his family – this wound was still bleeding. But it will be cured when he will see his mortal enemy, begging of mercy on his knees – of mercy which he won’t get. Ever.

This final triumph was so close already. Now that berk is already hardly creeps away from him, leaving a viscous trail of blood. A little bit of time and there will be a triumph – his triumph … his long-awaited triumph ! This, surely, will not bring his family back … but … nevertheless … after all … this swine will get what he has deserved ! His family has already faced the consequences – and only he still remained…

Another blow – and the enemy has stopped moving on the ground. Moved no more. Absolutely. Finally. Meet your death, bitch !

Final strike … He took a pistol from his hip-pocket. A gunpoint, set on a bent and lying still man, a spiteful smile in eyes of the killer …

Click.

Button click. A TV remote, thrown aside. No more ! No more ! No more !

Foolish action films ! Murders, blood and revenge … animalistic rage and terrific hatred … On almost all of channels. When they will finally stop broadcasting these slops ? Only a handful of channels, speaking about culture, creativity, worthy human undertakings and achievements still live on … but are people accustomed to watching this ? They are being fed with crap and assured that it’s a food of gods. And some even believe that …

It’s necessary to change this system ! Mass-media need to seriously think on what they give to the people … and of what they deprive … people need to think of what they would really like to see…

He will not stand aside. Tomorrow he will bring up this question at deputy meeting. Tomorrow he and his like-minded will tell their word – one against violence, against cruelty – even those exclusively cinematized. But will they be heard ? Will they be listened to by million of viewers – by each one of them ? He hoped greatly that they will be. For so much depends on that, on choices of everyone, and this choice as well.

Sat down  to watch TV the first time in a month … And – take it. Eat it, bless you. Fie ! I’ ll better play and have fun with my child in this day off. Yes, it’s a right choice and a valuable contribution, and not some consumption of slops.

-    Alex, let’s go and play “horses and riders” !

-    Whow, father ! New game, yes ? Fantastic ! Tell me, tell me about it quickly !

-    Yes, we’ll now play with you in “horses and riders”, and then have a jog to the stadium and back. All right ?

-    Certainly, pa ! That will be great !

-    Fine. So, well, listen here. Game rules are really simple …




05.10.2010




Believer


You are a faithful one, right? Say, a true Christian, strictly carrying out all Church rituals. Greatly, immensely devout person. Every week you go for a church on a prayer and a confession, and thus that soul of yours stays in a condition of the highest harmony and purity, thoughts are virtuous to the extreme degree, and from those hands of yours deeds of fair and kind nature never cease streaming. Possibly, wings are gonna to grow at your back already soon, and you will soar up to the heavens much like a divine angel, which are being painted on icons so often. You are simply magnificent. And is there is truly anyone in this world greater than you and deserving to be saved in a greater degree?

Here you are coming back from a recent confession, and your face shines in a blissful smile, for you are truthfully and without serious hesitation has told a priest of your recent sin, and he has forgiven you. Now, obviously, you have nothing more to worry about. And that sin of yours - such a trifle! - some sort of small financial swindle with the orphanage. Why, they aren’t going to receive their money - whether that such a serious trouble, you wonder? And you had to spend only one tenth part of that fortune in order to “pay for services” to your favorite and all-forgiving priest, - and here you are, pure like a heavenly angel, - so very convenient! Having no sin you will never confess, right? Last time a rape cost, however, slightly more, - but what one won’t make for the sake of his own soul, yeah?

And what magnificent furniture was there in that temple, what sort of carved icons, candlesticks, candelabrums! You were really stunned when you were beholding all this luxury. One can make anything for a true faith, right? And what sort of faith would that be without all this gold magnificence, right? True disbelief and faithlessness!

You were almost ready to enter your black BMW, conveniently parked near temple walls, when has noticed a lame beggar, hobbling to your direction with a stretched hand. He, certainly, has asked you in the name of God for money to buy some bread. “Take it and choke!” - you have muttered and  thrown him a handful of coins. I have said previously that you are such a devout person for a reason - you are the very incarnation of mercy! When your car with a wild roar and having let out a cloud of smoke darted off on new affairs, this beggar was still creeping in a lap on stone blocks, continuing collecting copper coins you have thrown. How deeply have some people fallen! And you are, undoubtedly, have risen so much higher above them.

What an indescribable pleasure it is - to feel oneself great! Higher, more mature, more worthy, more just, more believing, more devout than the majority of your colleagues. That’s why you come here for prayer after yet another business day so often. You ask the God to save your pure soul and banish to hell the souls of all your enemies. And then you gild the hand of your favorite priest a bit. Certainly, you are not totally confident that God indeed do listen to similar prayers, and that was indeed He who have helped you make a fortune through deceit and robberies, but … whether a temple can be a place of worshipping neither the God, but his rival instead? Bless you, well, certainly no! They are investing such amounts of money into these temples for a reason, right?

Oh, what a convenient thing it is - money! A universal remedy of purchasing, even, for example, that very prayer. Indeed, you had to pay quite an impressive sum in due time, but all church’s brotherhood along with is head were praying for the peace of soul of your mother-in-law. For the soul of a woman so hated by you that must have been quite an enchanting resting in peace! Now the main thing you must do is to avoid such rest yourself.

You are beyond doubt an extremely devout personality. Always you do buy Easter cakes with eggs and comply with the Orthodox position. Drink “holy” water from the local church. Buy candles exclusively in correctly affiliated and licensed temples. You have even joined an all-church orgies a few times when parishioners together with priests were howling some hymn. And thanks to the accurate observance of a post you even lost three kilograms of body weight from those thirty which you have accumulated during a last year. Such is it, the essence of your true belief! And whether is it possible for a belief to have another essence and goal?

Take your unloved brother, for instance, - never did he visit church and doesn’t concern himself with business at all. Works as some pity unskilled worker in buildings construction - and feels himself quite happy. How surprisingly little do some men need to be happy!  Lives his own life along with a wife and two children in one-room apartment. And during a meeting - just unbelievable! - each time in conversation thanks God that He has given him a lovely wife, job and two wonderful kiddies in addition. And somehow he even mentioned that he prefers not to believe, but to trust a God in his life. What a silly fanatic … extremist! Probably, that’s the main reason why you have definitely broken all relations with him a couple of years ago. You have no need for faithless religious fanatics with all their nonsenses, right? 

And nonsenses happen at times - even absurd do. Recently you heard on the TV how during strong thunder-storms lightning did accurately hit the tops of several city churches, but … a mere accident, yeah? And what is a life if not a casual and accidental thing? As well as death, probably. For they certainly cannot too be in the hands of God, right?

Surely, you are the very incarnation of a devout individual, for along with other similar ones you keep parasitizing on God and believe that worshipping a golden calf is the worshipping of the One, whose hidden presence in your life you never did have a chance to feel …

21.08.2011




Charity


Charity … what a tempting word it is ! Making of benefits for the sake of the near and far ones … material benefits, most probably. Universal socially approved way of expiation of own spiritual sins, having presented yourself at the same time as the most generous, extremely decent, surprisingly compassionate one … a feigned mask of care used by thieves and law-breakers. It’s just to your liking.

As far as you can remember, when your business just began … it was terrible time where everyone was ready to deceive and even kill another, trying to cross another’s road. The country just began to move on capitalism wheels, being sold out piece after a piece. At first like the most windy maid morals was thrown out of the house, then chastity was seduced, and love managed to commit suicide by itself. This very wave of chaos and destruction helped you to crawl out of darkness into the new marvelous world of buying and selling. You have traded many things, starting from bubble gum and “Playboy” magazines for teenagers, and ending with firearms for local “authorities” !

You liked the very idea of possibility to buy everything, people being included – after all, the one who is always right is the one who possesses a bigger gun, yes ? And you desired to thank your former mentors – with methods of their own.  Probably, during these instants, when you were observing, how two bands, to one of which you have belong until recently, are shooting each other on spot coldly and methodically, sparing neither the bullets, nor the cars, something has moved somewhere extremely deep inside you, something has changed. During that very moment the idea of charity was born inside you.

Then there were lots of different years. Your natural scent and rigid grasp helped you to survive in that meat grinder, to become a local “authority” and “protector” for other beginners yourself. Certainly, you had to pay tributes to your aching conscience – that’s why you were engaged in a weekly gift for churches. Surely, you didn’t believe in any gods, but so your colleagues on business behaved … and you desired to feel yourself in safety … keep the hope that such life’s “luck” will go on and on. Hope is a truly powerful  force … and what would you not make to make your soul silent, yeah ?

And then the time of troubles came to an end, and the time of bringing the oath to the new leader came, and you gain the possibility to ascend even higher – straight into the imperious circles. For after all even there – especially there ! – money do their dirty work very well. By the time it happened, you have already made yourself almost a lifelong fortune – trading of firearms and drugs have always been a profitable business without doubt. Only a dozen of small gifts to necessary people – and you are familiar with highest echelons of ones who have usurping the power. Whether it was not good luck ?

Soon you have legalized – an inevitable step for criminally acquired capitals in conditions of indicative witch-hunting. And then you remembered of the charity once again – and allocated a small share of former stolen for the construction of a pair of playgrounds in the former schoolyard. It’s so pleasant to remember the childhood at times, huh ? When you were observing such a result of your generosity, you have almost shed a few tears. You were mentioned in newspapers and took participation in a short interview on one of local TV channels – and your business started growing like on yeast. What a heroic feat would one not perform for the sake of his neighbors !

Now from time to time you publicly give to some unknown to you goof from the crowd your new gilded watch – well, not new, certainly, but instead the ones specially being bought and wearied in search of a suitable case, as if reminding these cringing ones that they will not live for long. From time to time you transfer to organized by you charitable organizations and various funds of aiding starving children of Africa some millions of “greens”, so that these commoners could write about your generosity in newspapers, and money would soon be returned into their proper places where they belong. Sometimes you even help to organize repair works of some decayed opera theatre so that it was possible to even wash up the floor there and whitewash ceilings as well – acquaint youth with culture, so to speak. And at times a pair of kids from the shelter of a name of all the humiliated and forgotten ones receive their cents so that they don’t starve to death ahead of time before someone manages to write of your generosity in newspapers. What would you not make for the sake of the distant one, yay ? 

Since then you have always remembered of charity – keep sharing with the world, so to say. Spit out undigested surpluses of own wealth into its face. You became a very influential person – the oligarch, as some impassable cattle usually call you, progressive and successful ones. But whether owners of factories, newspapers, steamships and yachts even care of what plebeian think of them ? It’s plebeians for whom standard charity has been made – let them think that they are thought about and be content with that. For you must not share with them everything that has been acquired by back-breaking toil for many years of theft and lawlessness ! After all, charity has been specifically invented for the purpose of giving ones such as you a possibility to temporarily feel yourself much better than you truly deserve.

Recently you started thinking of the God quite often. Probably, He truly exists somewhere out there – for after all who else might have helped you to build up such a grandiose life ? Or maybe it was not Him, but someone else instead, the one who exactly requires such a pseudo-charity and false sacrifices of a human ego and egoism ? You don’t know the exact answer to that more and more tormenting you question. Yet something somewhere inside you keeps moving and shivering more and more with each passing day, and if in premonition of something approaching, something truly terrible for you and the ones similar to you, false gifts bringing.

But … whether all this wonderful charity would suffice for atonement of your sins before you will manage to see and behold in the last moment something you have never encountered, and will never encounter any longer ?




18.09.2012




Cops of our age


The duty of each militia man is to protect and guard citizens of state, fight against criminals of law and violators of the order.

From the Charter of cops’ service

All cops are goats!

Inscription on a fence, author unknown

With this series of chapters we are starting a new cycle of publications, devoted to separate categories of that considerable and low-respected group of persons, working in the service of the State, who are frequently, due to a way of solving of their own problems as well as a way of creation of problems for others, are used to call “security officers”.

Current list contains classification of such subtype of representatives of class Homo Brutalus as Cops.

Common traits of various categories of representatives of given type are classified, consequences of a collision with them are described, and possible exit options from a problematic situation are mentioned. We do hope that present document can shed some light on a question of the cause of emergence and essence of beings in question, which, in our opinion, is capable of provoking a process of understanding by healthy individuals of our society of a full social unfitness of considered beings in the state in which they exist among us now. And, as ancient ones used to say, to understand true motives of your enemy is to already win a battle with him. We keep our hope that this work of ours will aid you in this understanding of yours.

1. Cop Vagrant

General description. The most widespread king of Cops, now representing about two thirds of their total number. Characterized by a perfectly developed skill of using inborn ability “process of aimless random wandering”. Especially often representatives of that kind are living in this semi-euphoric state during evening and night time, sincerely considering that, speaking language of ordinary inhabitant, “to gad on streets” is a sacred process of fulfillment of their civic duty. Specified process of aimless wandering in evening (especially in company of other Cops of that kind) is usually accompanied by drinking of a significant amount of alcohol, more often one which is known under collective name “Beer”. It should be noted that in similar condition representatives of this kind become considerably similar to the ones of kind “Dog Cop”, and therefore can be dangerous for healthy people of our society.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Moral qualities are above average, rather often representatives of this ilk are capable to come for a rescue in a demanding situation, even though the question of efficiency of their help is often coupled enough. In aspect of fighting against real crime this king is characterized by very low rating of efficiency, because in suppressing majority of cases their forces and abilities are often enough only to scatter same drinking companies and bums. Skills of fire arms handling are slightly lower than average as it’s actually not used in daily cops-duty by representatives of this kind. 

Recommended behavior upon meeting. If you are neither a both, nor an inveterate alcoholic or lover for night walks, in the overwhelming majority of cases you will not have any serious problems. Otherwise it’s recommended to come back home only through side streets instead of main ones, because as a general rule main city streets are exactly a favorite place for aimless wanderings of representatives of described kind, “Cop Vagrant”.

2. Dog Cop

General description.The second in prevalence after “Cop Vagrant” kind of Cops. He is characterized by aggravated feeling of egoism and own relevancy, and is inclined to aggressive actions in relation to nonaggressive representatives of our society. A favorable method is the intimidation of citizens for the purpose of experiencing mentioned feeling of own steepness and omnipotence, thus intimidation can be performed in many forms, starting from threats to take one into a cops-ovka (side note: the main dwelling of Cops and their hand of justice is called that way) and finishing with charges in nonexistent and non-made by you (and more often - made by anyone else except you) crimes. By his behavior representative of this kind often resembles a dog (from here comes the name) - likes to bark and bite random passers-by in feet, and, given a chance, to howl on the moon, telling her of his sad cop’s fate. Not marked by either restraint, endurance or self-control.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. The main shortcoming is the increased aggression, manifesting itself with and without a reason. It’s necessary to notice, however, that in rare cases similar rage-outbursts can still have some positive results, because it’s quite easy to redirect anger of representatives of that kind to a required course. There is nothing more appealing than to behold your enemy, biting another enemy, right? In aspect of overcoming the true crime he is characterized by rather low indicators of efficiency, because victims of his anger are most commonly completely not those people, who, according to the logic of things, should be them. Skills of fire arms handling are average, because it often serves rather as an additional argument of psychological pressure instead of a real argument of mechanical influence.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. In order not to get unnecessary bites during a meeting with representatives of that kind a benevolent and quiet communication is recommended, which appears to be capable to awaken inside them feelings of simple human solidarity, which have been corroded and destroyed by rage for so long. It’s recommended to avoid united groups of representatives of that ilk, because due to reasons unknown to us, aggression being emanated by them is capable of amplifying repeatedly in case of “teamwork”.

3. Cop Mobile

General description. Rather new and in present moment (thanks God?) insignificant by number of representatives kind of Cops, formed due to an active development of New Information Technologies, and, in particular, technologies of mobile communication. He is characterized by one of the highest indicators of integration with underworld and is actually an active part of it himself. It’s rather difficult to meet representatives of this type on streets face-to-face as an active involvement into criminal business forces them to often remain “in a shadow”, but their business partners have been greatly breeding in numbers in the past time. We are talking, certainly, of street muggers - a social class of spiritually and intellectually (and rather often also physically) defective persons, carrying out under a vigilant eye of Cops Mobile the dirtiest part of work of reduction of number of mobile communication devices in the hands of population. Rather often it’s possible to observe a picture, when similar “veterans of work” are openly trading similar expropriated devices directly in the vicinity of Cop’s gaze, patrolling stations and other haunts, feeling neither discomfort nor hesitation. There is, certainly, nothing surprising in that - for, after all, what Cop Mobile doesn’t dream of a beautiful mobile phone both for himself and his family, and, taking into account modern total impoverishment of the population, they can be understood … right, no?

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Efficiency on providing and supporting of the black market of stolen mobile phones reaches its apogee. Moral qualities completely depend upon a monthly conjuncture in the market of portable mobile devices. The rest of qualities, including sense of justice, repentances and similar nonsenses are completely leveled by a new device in a titanic case with built-in Bluetooth and Wi-Fi modules. Skills of fire arms handling (if ultrafashionable IPhone is not taken into account) are in fact really close to zero.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. You will have real difficulties meeting them in person (and it’s almost an impossible task to convict them of criminal activity), but it’s always easy to meet with their workmate. Questions of consideration of a meeting with representatives of groups of chavs are actually similar to questions of meeting with representatives of a kind “Cop Toothbreaking” in 3 to 1 ration.

4. Cop Toothbreaking

General description. At present time rather seldom, yet extremely dangerous representative of Cops class. He is characterized by truly “explosive” combination of two qualities - highest level of aggression and not less high skills of hand-to-hand fisticuffs, which he applies almost always inopportunely. He is often gloomy and loony, possessing a constitution of mainly “bull-like” type. Likes to drink and smoke. Represents himself sort of “legal bouncer”, because is able to knock out and hit hard people by the right of employee of law-burying cops forces. Moreover, likes greatly to be engaged in similar “fighting” activity. Is suited ideally for a role of the inspector of cabinets of curiosities, but, as a general rule, is insufficiently intellectually developed for the organized team-fight against real representatives of criminal world. As yet another rule, he is easily coped by representatives of “Cop Oral” kind, but considers representatives of more intellectually developed beings of “Cop Hackerish” and their like as weaklings and idiots, which, however, coordinates well with his internal vision of a world around and his place inside it. Especially brutal representatives of this kind, having passed an additional battle training, are capable of becoming ”Cops Brutal”, causing horror and fear both in ranks of enemies and in faces of friends.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Efficiency of beating of enemy muzzles and psychological attack of the opponent is very high, which is often, however, practically leveled by their low skills of fire arms handling and weak ability to control their affective desires of smashing with subsequent falling of teeth of any enemies, designated for them as such. His favorite attack is a right punch by a fist of a left hand in a poddy.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. It’s better not to meet representatives of this kind at all. Hey, that’s the truth - it’s quite expensive as in aspect of future quantity of teeth in your mouth (the name of these representatives is quite symbolically) in particular, and in respect of your potential future corporal health in general. Fortunately, representatives of this kind can be met on streets very seldom as they, unlike all the other kinds, prefer to spend out the most part of their time in a company of three B (Bitches, Bottles, Brothers). If you had a bad luck of getting involved in an armed conflict with similar representative, heed our advice - disarm immediately and raise your hands up, for your opponent almost don’t even need a weapon at all. He, as it’s said, will make you with one left hand … but more often with a right one instead, as this hand is developed better. It’s not recommended to provoke representatives of this type - otherwise he will literally speaking will not warrant himself. The main sign by which it’s necessary to judge of a high degree of responsibility of condition of a representatives of this kind is a lack of “bull” eyes, filled with blood haze and saliva, flowing out from his mouth. The rest of behavioral recommendations are similar for “Cop Brutal” kind.

5. Cop Piratic

General description. Along with representative of kind “Cop Mobile”, given kind of Cops also appeared on a horizon rather recently due to that oh-so-unstoppable development of High Information Technologies, and no less rapid development of so-called “pirates”. Let’s note that by this term we mean, certainly, not quite harmless ship looters of 15-18th centuries, but much more terrible, brutal and cruel representatives of information intellectual piracy of 21th century. There is no chance for comparison between all weight of terrible crime on intellectual property misuse with some innocent robberies and sinking of ships, carried out by representatives of “classical” piracy. And just exactly for fighting against such intellectual terrorists of 21th century a special breed of Cops, named by us as “Cop Piratic”, has been synthesized.

Representatives of this kind possess rather high (especially when we talk of “Cop Toothbreaking” ones) mental abilities, however, a sort of work, typical for all representatives of Cops class nevertheless leaves its mark on them. Representatives of given kind unite in specialized departments “HHH” (Hu Hacked Homputer), specially formed for revealing of illegal actions of network terrorists. It’s necessary to add, that besides struggling against illegal distribution of legal digital content one of the task of Cops of given kind is a struggle against various kinds of network attacks, such as DDOS, Smurf, Ping’O’Death and similar to them, by naming of which we shall not tire the reader (because even these representatives of Cops get tired from the same procedure considerably), however, no essentials successes (except for catching of “cool-hackers” of modem pools) have not yet been achieved.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Any representative of given kind owns in perfection skills of turning on and off a desktop computer, launching MustDie, reading of opposite to current authority Internet sites and (in rare cases) organizing of network ping, whoise’ing and traceroute’ing. The most advanced individuals of family are capable to master hardly (and having collected documentation bales) learn Linux. Skills of fire arms handling are generally limited to usage of rocket launcher in Quake game. Among other useful skills it’s necessary to mention the highest ability to quickly and operatively play solitaire.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. You will never meet them. For all day long they are sitting in their stuffy offices in front of their computers, strenuously (and, judging by the growth of their departments, quite successfully) pretending to be engaged into sacred work of fighting with planet’s computer terrorism. It’s possible to judge about their considerably successes by regularly published chronicles of how a next dangerous sixteen-year-old hacker from Some-long-forgotten-town, who has secretly logged into computer of his neighbor and sucked away from it all porn-content, have been successfully located and liquidated. It’s difficult to say whether it’s a merit of representative of given kind, or a problem of absence of due sexual education of the newborn hacker, but, well, law-burying forces know that better, no doubt. Let them struggle against world onanism, only not to disturb normal people.

6. Cop Foolish

General description. Also known as “coppa”, as well as “epaulets fool”, and even as “cops moron” or “yeah-you-are”. Is being characterized by foolishness, idiocy, bureaucratism, infantilism, lack of initiative, sado-masochism and racism. A typical representative of cops bureaucratic machine - pathos and silly, tiresome and avaricious. The only quite developed ability is a skill of working with paper affairs, for any cops department through all time of its existence have surely gathered whole cases and lockers of papers of various kinds.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Moral is absent. As well as qualities. It’s possible to judge of efficiency through TEPH indicator (Tons of exhausted paper / hour) - for typical representative it’s somewhat about 0.5 (so called “fifty-fufti”).

Recommended behavior upon meeting. It’s easier to find a nearest wall in a cops department and perform a sacred act of separating one’s soul from a body, than to try to solve any question with representatives of given kind - they are gonna eat all your patience and brains, yay!

7. Cop Oral

General description. Perhaps, the most talkative among all representatives of Cops class, and as such rather harmless. Often acts as a private leader in teams, consisting of vagrant, dog-like and toothbreaking Cops. Possesses high self-respect feeling and is sometimes even capable of self-sacrifice acts for the sake of safety of others. Unfortunately, we are compelled to note that in the majority of cases his words disperse from business. Loves to chit-chat, have a talk or two about politics and life, and, having found a grateful listener, is able to strip with such talks dozens of hours from his private life. Possess rather quiet and sustained temper and for this reason can bring to reason more aggressive representatives of Cops. In rare cased is even capable to confirm own wrongfulness.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Moral qualities are higher than average, efficiency in over-talking both allies and opponents is critical. The most dreadful weapon possessed is a tongue without bones. Marked, however, by some sort of independence of judgment that can threaten moral climate in a team, designated for active and frequent force-strike operations by order of commanding officers. Can handle fire arms rather tolerably, because, even having aforementioned alternative types of arms, have not completely lose base skills yet.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. Representatives of this kind of Cops are actually harmless for ordinary citizens of society, but still possess the ability to take away much time from their lives without any visible or obvious reason. Another problem is that it’s rather easy to mix representatives of this kind with vagrant cops, who are not so eager for unnecessary verbal outpourings. In this regard a recommended practice is a delicate and polite addressing, which is capable to both bring to reason vagrant (and in rare cases - dog-like) cops, and form sympathy in the face of representatives of described kind as well.

8. Cop Brutal

General description. Critical form of representatives of kind “Cop Toothbreaking” with brought to perfection combat skills - sort of “Cop-machine of death”. Ideal fighting unit in Cops disposal. Possess excellent reaction, high rating of firing accuracy, considerable survivability and terrible fists punch. Teams from such representatives are usually built up from most actively and qualitatively proven former representatives of class “Fighter” subtype “Veteran”, and are capable to be effective groups of suppression and cleaning of zones of active enemy resistance. Probably, the only one representative of class of Cops, completely disproving a saying “One man is no man”.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Critically effective against bums and street muggers, efficiency of fight against armed criminals is above average. Moral qualities are easily imparted and departed by the Charter, as representatives of this kind possess high degree of non-criticality to the information, perceived from higher ranking officers, whom they often idolize. Crown blow is a double punch of fists into pro-boundaries of eyes. From fighting weapon prefers machine guns, but as a rule of thumb can still be contented by ordinary Makarov’s pistols.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. As a rule it’s possible to meet them only in zones of active armed conflicts. Unfortunately, if you were fortunately enough to get into such an area - we are no longer accredited to be your advisors. Highly recommend you to bite the dust immediately and cross own fingers, asking all known gods so that malicious fate to be shoot down on spot will avoid you.

9. Cop Normal

General description. Quintessence of the essence of protection of citizens from criminal world. He is honest, decent and kind in relation to respectable representatives of society and is ruthless to those who have violated the law. Always ready to come to the rescue at a difficult moment and hold up his strong shoulder or a gun. Does not smoke, drink, take bribes, is brave in battles and has no fear for own life. In a word, in our view represents himself a finest exemplary of described class of beings.

Rating of efficiency and moral qualities. Totally moral representative of a class of Cops, skills of fire arms handling slightly concede those of “Cop Toothbreaking” and “Cop Brutal”.Critically effective in edifying on truth other representatives of Cops class.

Recommended behavior upon meeting. We have greatest doubts that throughout your entire life you will manage to meet at least a single representative of this kind. This subtype is extremely rare and makes only a small part of Cops representatives in a quantity of 1-2 persons. As ancient ones used to speak - “nay, coppy, that’s a fantasy”, and so we will safely repeat their words …

08.04.2012




Copyright marasmus


For almost eight years we have been working double tides as slaves on galleys - and here and now such copyright-bullshit fruits of western democracy were grown. We have no need for a democracy like in Iraq, that’s why let’s cut everything off! And, most certainly, to “wet in toilets” such advocates of author’s lawlessness. We do have a couple of competent experts in this field here in Moscow, so let them come. Because otherwise we’ll have to call for a doctor to clean up this illness’s mess in a germ.

V.V.P.




- Hello, hullo, oh respected TV-watchers, putin-seekers, and bear-den-dwellers! Once again I am here with you, teller and dweller, Vladimir Vladimirovich Pupkin. We are oh-so-glad to behold you once again - or, at least, to believe that we can behold you, because in these damned camera’s lenses we can see totally nothing, dear copy-righters and copy-lefters, letters-knowers and simple pedants, both lawyers and masochists. Yep, yep, I have begun my speech today with such an unusual lyrical offense for a purpose, because - you will never believe me! - we were able to put our hands on a truly unique materials, capable to turn out the Earth upwards with Antarctic itself ! Almost now, practically in this very moment a civil storm of headquarters of, if one can name them as such, companies as RIAA and MPAA has begun in Brussels! You will, most certainly, yell “at last!”, and in turn I, most certainly, will totally agree with you in this interjection-emotional exclamation! But let’s don’t run ahead of us … because we have our correspondent from Brussels, Vladimir Vladimirovich Tupkin, hanging on the wire. Greetings, Vladimir!

During approximately thirty seconds a series of claps, clicks, and even some sort of unclear gurgling along with creaking and screaming can be overheard in the ether. At last the image on the cameras clears up and a face of televiewer appears before all those bear-den-dwellers.

- … Hello, Voldemar! And I have you know that despite all disorders going here, I am still alive - and nobody ever dared to hang me up by anything on anything! 

- Vladimir, Vladimir, wait a sec, when was that time when I have become Voldemar? As far as I know I didn’t have any Jews in my family tree, thanks God! 

- Well, Vladimir, I take it that our televiewers should have some means to distinguish us somehow? And that VVP has already become a sort of abbreviation in their minds … that’s exactly why I’ve decided to place, so to say, points over the “e”. Therefore you are now Voldemar for me, Vladimir …

- Ah … in this sense. Heck … well … how cute … never mind! Pray tell us as fast as possible what exactly is going on there! That’s just a sensation - never before have the scale of battle for content freedom been as such!

- Indeed, Voldemar, something really unimaginable is taking place here! Central departments of RIAA and MPAA are being assaulted and attacked from all flanks!  Attackers are dressed mainly in black T-shirts with a picture of some sort of ship - and they battle for each and every window, against each hated fucked-copyrighter, for each inch of ground! Yes, they are armed only with eggs, rotten tomatoes and even some leaflets, but look with what unshakable persistence do they fight! That’s the greatest heroism imaginable! Voldemar, do you see it?

Camera change a foreshortening of a review and a truly epic picture opens before the eyes: men in black and white T-shirts and vests shower windows of a many-leveled building with eggs and bananas. A victoriously sailing ship is painted on black T-shirts, a proud “CC” flaunts on white ones. Some glasses in windows have been already broken, and sort of capitulation flags are hanging down from them. Somewhere from a top window a physiognomy of official is visible, which has been dirtied by a splashed egg - his expression contains all possible emotions, starting from fear, confusion and finishing with a rage, and to make the picture even shiner he is unsuccessfully trying to shout something to attackers, yet a mucous liquid, flowing down his face, is definitely preventing him from doing this well.

It’s clearly visible how a group of company’s representatives, still hiding behind a small metal facade, is desperately and with heart-rending cries tries to bash entrance door, but desperately rushing officials, who have previously managed to enter the building, prevent other of their kind from entering. Those losers, who haven’t been able to get inside, are being shelled from incoming army with double force - some of them have already simply tumbled down on the earth, have put a paper package on their heads and started actively clattering the ground with free feet.

By all means it’s obvious that both a strategic and tactical advantage has been on a side of copyright-marasmus opponents for a long time already.

- Indeed, Vladimir, we as well as our spectators are now enjoying this really epic battle of copy-writers with copy-lefters, creators versus parasites, supporters of freedom of intellectual property against anal-creative-slavery! Such a scale, such a heat! I truly wonder whether this finally happened and God himself has heard our prayers … what do you think, Vladimir?  Vladimir, wait a moment, what are you doing ?

Camera change foreshortening once again, and it becomes obvious how Vladimir from Brussels pushes hands in his bag, and with a malicious grin on his face takes out a recently purchased package, filled with eggs, swings his arm with all possible strength and throws one egg in an aperture of one of windows, where during this very instant of time one of immoderately scared representatives of intellectual parasitism is running. Whether due to the good luck of Vladimir-of-Brussels or due to bad luck of unknown copyright-idiot, thrown egg falls just under the feet of running representative, and he with eyes full of horror and mouth desperately screaming plops down a floor, still continuing his crazy movement in a pose “hugging a floor, physiognomy downwards”. Televiewers have a unique chance to overhear the rest of his exclamation: “… And our eggs are iron!” and this very moment a joyful-boyish shout of Vladimir-the-correspondent blocks all the noise: “Y-y-y-y-e-e-e-s-s-s! Top ten!” Televiewers are able to notice, how happily he raises his hands upwards and gives a salute - and then camera change foreshortening once more and we can behold his face in a full size - and this time he looks like a rural cat, who have just secretly consumed entire grandmother’s tub with sour cream.

- Have you seen that? Take it, beasts! For Internet, for creativity, for democracy, damn it! - the face of correspondent continues to shout.

- Vladimir, how much I do envy you now! - the face of TV presenter responds in turn. - You have practically implemented my dreamboat of a childhood! Or maybe a dreamcar, doesn’t matter! How do you guess, can we name it as …

- A Copyright-Armageddon! - correspondent Vladimir-Voldemar interrupts him before he can finish. - It has finally come!

- Indeed, Vladimir, but when will we at last … wait! Wait, we’ve just got a bunch of additional news - similar battles have already begun in Washington, Amsterdam and even London! Our ether is being literally broken off by reports from other correspondents! I cannot believe … wait a bit! Main headquarters of RAO in Moscow are being bombarded with eggs, bananas, broken CD-disks along with packs of used condoms! It’s truly impossible to deny an ingenuity of our people! Oh, my warriors, oh, heroes! They weren’t afraid of the Jews and vegetables from culture, have finally dared to give a timely response! Just look at how wonderfully like boomerangs these CD-disks with shitty content are flying!

Correspondent from Brussels, throwing a second egg

- Incredible!

- That’s not the word!

- But enough is enough, I am compelled to urgently say goodbye to you, Vladimir, for tens of reports from other cities of the world are waiting for us! And to cut a long story short I wish our correspondent from Brussels both firmness and accuracy, courage and endurance in this unequal struggle, and …

Vladimir and Vladimir amicably turn to face the camera and their faces blur in a blissful smile …

- And let the copy-left reign!




12.04.2011




Crime and punishment


I will return to you again, and it shall be very soon. Much sooner than many would like it to happen. 

I will come to you as unexpectedly as unexpectedly came and has come again He, who is so much greater than I am. For He has truly come again.

If you haven’t heard even Him – what gives me hope that you will hear all of us, taken and united together, now ? And yet I still hope …

And yet I am again with you – for the hope does not leave me, that having passed through all hearth of deprivations and sufferings, you will one day smile to the former difficulties of your life and sing a praise to the Light.

Ask you, I shall – why have you deformed words of mine with fabrications of your own ? Why have you prevented them to flow to the most undercover corners of human’s soul ?

Ask you, I shall, if you have really experienced every obstacle, given to me by the life of my own. And if not – who gave you the right to judge on behalf of mine ?

Our tasks are difficult, but on the aspiration and belief of everyone we are given. Yet someone is a creature, shivering, and others have been given the right to change this world.

Or do you believe that your mind is truly capable to change it ? But look, what the cunning and meanness of your minds has already done to you.

No need for conjectures of your mind I have – but in souls and hearts of yours I want to see it. And what is heart if not a temple of a soul ?

Or do you truly think that I am not capable of reading through souls of yours ? Perhaps you will deceive me one day, - but how will you deceive the One, standing beside me ?

How can you hide from His all-seeing gaze ? By having put out your eyes only.

How can you stop hearing His voice, given through us ? By closing your ears only.

How can you not feel His kind touches ?  By having destroyed your hears only.

Having a presentiment, I am, how under the sight of mine you will bend the head of yours and the shame, shrouded by fear, will pierce hearts of yours. But is that what I truly desire ?

No need for your fear I have, and even He has no need for it – but your understanding of own crime is necessary. But your desire of change is necessary.

And what is a crime if not your unwillingness to change yourselves ? And what is a result of your life if not your own punishment ?

And what is a true spiritual transformation if not your redemption ? And no more fear will be in the heart of the one, soared to the heavens.

And only then you will help the God help you.

But until you have flown to the skies, remember – all the evils you see around is the crime and the punishment. Yours crime and yours punishment.




28.09.2010




Critic


You are - the one who’s against. Always have been and is planning to remain as such henceforth.

You have been against such an immense number of things that you have ceased to count them a long time ago. For, after all, when the direction of movement itself is clear, separate fragments of the path become not that really important, right?

You have been against politicians since the moment of entering the institute, or maybe even still sitting on a school bench - all of them seemed to you as petty and short-sighted assholes, that you had almost no possibility to tolerate them. For this particular reason you have always so jealously watched a lot of their performances, internally arguing and discussing something with each of them individually and all of them as a whole, no matter in what sort of monologue with them you have been engaged from the screen of your TV. You were a good audience.

If your own memory doesn’t deceive you, you have been against the entire educational system since the moment you’ve been trapped under its millstones - “knowledge”, saved up by mankind, always seemed to you as a heap of inconceivable stuff and totally incoherent fragments of information, more reminding the undigested remains of a mind’s food of yet another popular scientist, who have dared to scribe on a knee next school textbook. School system seemed to you like a monstrous torture and uniform mockery at healthy children’s desires of running, dancing, frolicking and rejoicing their lives. But you needed to get into the institute no matter what - and thus you have obediently been sitting near a school desk and house desktop whole days and nights in succession. You were a good student.

Certainly, you were against the majority of modern sculptors of the lack of taste, that have managed by some inconceivable ways and having trampled on all laws of human conscience to climb by heads of others on this self-made Olympus, having confused it with a swamp due to their short-sightedness. You have considered creations of many of them a trash, totally undeserving anyone’s attention. Probably, for that very reason you have mentioned them so often in conversations with your friends, often are being distressed that art has been almost killed. But what have you done yourself for its revival? You were a good critic.

Yeah, most certainly you have never encountered unbribable officials in your life, for otherwise it would become so perniciously for that lovely picture of just unconsent one, mercilessly convicting enemies, and, actually, being quite satisfied only with it as a result. You shouted in ears of deaf ones and wrote complains on blind ones to indifferent ones. You cut one head of a monster and two fresh ones immediately appeared on its place. Sure, there were bright heads which didn’t allow poison-breathing and disgusting ones to grow near them - but when one acts rashly, he has no need to look on another’s affairs and inside his soul, right? Actually, it has been ending like that a lot of times - the system has been prevailing, exhausting your determination and courage. Therefore one day you have spat on them all from all visible to you belltowers - sort of a farewell curtsey towards the monster. The monster obligingly waved by all poison-breathing heads, survived by the moment. You were a remarkable small screw in the mechanism of a bureaucratic machine.

You were also against priests, who have created a fetish of God and started mercilessly trading it in their temples - but with what good deeds, which are the display of true belief, have you decorated your own life and those of ones close to you? Have your and their lives become a singing - not the abstruse church one, but everyday heart’s singing?

Whether it’s necessary to mention that you have been against a huge set of other most unattractive circumstances of a reality, made by the ones like you, for the very process of enumeration of which we have neither the power, nor the time?

Against, against, against. This has become almost an unconscious reaction. You have learned how to say “no” without having learning how to speak “yes”. And situations for your “yes” have vanished from your life. They have become internally unnecessary.

So, having not knowing that, in that condemnation of yours you have continued to live that under-life, so counter-indicative to you. You condemned darkness, not praising the Light. You denied evil without filling yourself with good. You destroyed things you considered dirty, but whether you built something pure on its place? You denied, having offered nothing in exchange. You have become a great critic - a critic from all your heart. Condemning of all and everything, but not the maker of better at the same time. You remained a warm one, having not become hot - from the inner fire of spirit. For in order to grow something outside, one must first grow it inside his heart. But what could you grow inside it? Your geniality have continued to remain only the unborn potential of yours.

It was like that earlier - but the true life begins right now. It starts with a word “yes” to a glimmering love in your heart. It is your life.

Your move, critic. 

27.02.2012




Diseases of our age


Present document confirms that Main Ministry of Health in association with different well-known medics of various countries have formed a list of diseases, common for modern generation of individuals, calling themselves “Homo Sapiens”.

We, authors of this list, don’t apply for completeness of description and characteristic of all illnesses, so casual for individuals of our generation, but still hope that given classification will be able to clarify already uneasy question of preservation of so-called “spiritual”, as well as so-called “physical” health.  Let us note that due to exceptional conditionality of similar division we are unable to classify separate illnesses as belonging exclusively to the first or second group, for in fact they are a consequence of infringement of processes of healthy individual activity (HIA) as a whole.

The list of diseases of our century in addition with their brief description follows.

1. “Spiteful”

General description. As a rule of thumb, indicated ailment is spontaneously arising in a short-term duration by its nature, however, in some neglected cases it can become a permanent trait of personality. Medical science hasn’t been able to define till now a constant enough and certain list of reasons causing represented disease, although specific observations have nevertheless been collected. It has been noticed that given illness in its permanent form can be triggered by such diseases as “Ugly Duckling”,”Victim” and several other illnesses with similar semiology, however similar law has its exceptions for the reasons unknown, which gives us reasons to make an assumption of the soul-genetical predisposition of separate individuals to this disease.

Symptoms. Those suffering from this disease can be distinguished by their increased irritability, pessimism of views on surrounding reality (independently of surrounding them objective reality), being the consequence of spontaneously manifested by them hatred and anger, concerning other individuals being in contact with them.

Treatment methods. For the purpose of treatment of current illness universal revitalizing remedy “Kindness” has been proven as a most effective mean. In especially heavy forms of a clinical course usage of antibiotic “Suggestion” becomes possible. Contraindicated for application is the vaccine “Humiliation”.

2. “Hated”

General description. In its semiology this disease is similar to manifestations of “Spiteful” one, which has given some experts a reason to consider this disease as its aggravated form. It should be noted that easy forms of this illness can cause along with “Spiteful” a set of other illnesses, including “Ugly Duckling”, “Fearful” (mainly in the form of protective reaction of individual), “Star-like” and especially “Lord”.

Symptoms. Extremely negative attitude of the individual practically to each and every aspect of manifestation and functioning of surrounding him reality. Easy forms of disease have spontaneous character on its manifestation in the form of negative reaction of the individual to this or that vital circumstance. Heavy forms of the illness are characterized by permanent negative attitude of the individual to other individuals and various aspects of manifestation of objective reality as it is.

Treatment methods. Universal revitalizing remedy “Kindness” was considered as the only effective mean of curing (especially in case of easy form of course of a disease), which usage however can be restricted to the majority of patients due to artificially high prices, formed by huge overestimated demand.

3. “Fearful/Timid”

General description. According to latest researches, the cause of emergence of this illness lies in insufficient production of a “Self-confidence” hormone in organism of the individual. By its signs specified illness is almost an exact copy of previously discovered “Timid” disease, so in this connection experts in the field have made a decision to consider both of them as one. It’s necessary to clearly distinguish forms of protective reactions of organism, trying to overcome this disease, from the traits of a “Hero” condition, even though they can look extremely similar in external forms of manifestation. Along with that it’s also necessary to note that is some situations symptoms of manifestation of this illness can be similar by results to a positive effect of “Reason” enzyme, which can considerably complicate the analysis of an objective condition of the patient.

Symptoms. Symptom of this disease is a permanently showed by the individual fear in various vital circumstances in case of making of decisions, performing of actions.

Treatment methods. Due to impossibility of artificial synthesis of “Self-confidence” hormone for treatment of this disease usage of antibiotic “Suggestion” is recommended.

4. “Ugly Duckling”

General description. Given disease is most characteristic for individuals at age of 12-18 years. The main feature of this disease lies in the possibility of self-treatment of an individual by achieving a certain level of high consciousness. Medical science still hasn’t determined exact reasons of similar self-healing of some individuals, however an assumption does exist that reasons for similar curing are in fact activated processes of fast synthesis of hormones “Tranquility”, “Good nature” and “Self-confidence” in an organism of former patient. Except for cases of congenital spiritual-genetic predisposition the reasons of formation of this disease can be:

·          Communication of yet healthy individual with another individual, infected with diseases “Spiteful” and ”Hated”.

·          Communication of yet healthy individual with another individual, infected with disease “Victim”.

·          Frequent injection of vaccine “Humiliation” by one of other individuals, close to yet-to-be-ill one.

Symptoms. A well-known trait of patients is a permanently lowered emotional condition, spontaneously shown complaints and grumbling about their destiny and similar aspect of spiritually-emotional state. In especially continuous and hard cases of course of an illness a commission by the individual of irreversible act “Suicide” becomes possible. 

Treatment methods. For the purpose of curing of this disease universal revitalizing remedy “Kindness” has proven to be extremely effective, as well as usage of artificially synthesized hormone “Tranquility”. Usage of hormones “Good nature” and “Self-confidence” in this case is also highly desirable, but is not achievable due to impossibility of their artificial laboratory synthesis. Especially effective can become a treatment of the patient with specified medicines by relatives of mentioned individual along with application of universal revitalizing remedy “Kindness”. Healing is considered most effective before the patient has entered a phase of consciousness known as “Adult”, after which efficiency of treatments starts to quickly degrade.

5. “Victim”

General description. This illness represents one of possible forms of development of “Ugly Duckling” disease. Individuals of all ages, nationalities and religions are subject to be infected by this disease. It’s highly recommended to distinguish sporadic exacerbations of the disease in question from symptoms of the “Hero” condition, being characterized by own readiness to sacrifice welfare/health/life for the good of others.

Symptoms. A feature of manifestation of this illness lies in a specific transition of consciousness of the individual into a still insufficiently studied condition, which consequence is a distortion of a traditional picture of perception of objective reality. Diseased patients begin to discover in all occurring events some sort of “ill fate of their destiny”, “intrigues of the haters, desiring to prevent their great plans from fulfilling” according to their own ways of expression of this state of their consciousness. Continuous clinical course leads to permanent decrease of the general emotionally background of the patient, which in some extreme cases can lead to a commission of the irreversible act “Suicide”.

Treatment methods. Due to insufficient study of a state of consciousness, transition into which occurs in the process of this illness, effective enough methods of treatment have still not been developed. In this regard a recommended for application was considered antibiotic “Suggestion”, as well as universal revitalizing remedy “Kindness”.

6. “Know-it-all”

General description. By its traits, aspects of course and semiology this illness is similar to the “Star-like” one.

Symptoms. Characteristic of this illness is the increased arrogance and self-conceit of an individual, spontaneously or (in case of heavy forms) permanently demonstrated by him.

Treatment methods. Periodic application of “Humiliation” vaccine appears to be most effective in treatment process. It’s necessary to notice that doses of injected vaccine should be strictly coordinated with the attending physician, who is familiar with general features of inner world of the patient, otherwise disease can radically alter its form and transform into “Ugly Duckling” one. Specified vaccine is recommended for application exclusively by those individuals who are close to the patient, because is cases of attempts of its usage from other unfamiliar people active counteraction to these attempts from the side of a patient can become the reason of emergence of a “Spiteful” disease.

7. “Star-like”

General description. It has been discovered by medical science that, unlike the “Know-it-all” illness, current disease has arisen exclusively in modern age. Characteristic of this disease is a greatest susceptibility to it of those individuals who have reached so-called “high social status” and are well-known to large groups of other individuals.

Symptoms. Symptoms of an arising illness are the neglect shown by the individual to other, ever-growing self-conceit and aggression. Signs of a constant infection of patient with given disease are even more growing self-assurance and aggression (which can be taken for symptoms of “Spiteful” illness by inexperienced doctors) with a gradual degradation of an illness to a chronic state “Lord”.

Treatment methods. Much like in case with “Know-it-all” disease, the most fruitful mean in fighting against illness is the application of “Humiliation” vaccine, but it should be noted, that doses of injected vaccine in that case should be considerably increased. Besides, effective application of this vaccine becomes possible not only from the side of persons, close to a patient.

8. “Lord”

General description. Medical science has been unable to establish exact time period of first emergence of this illness as signs of its manifestation can be found in ancient centuries very far from us. This illness is a culmination of development of diseases in a branch “Know-it-all” - “Star-like” - “Lord”, its final stage. As the illness is a very heavy form of a “Star-like” disease, it practically does not give into treatment. In this regard it’s possible to say that these infected patients are in fact doomed.

Symptoms. Symptoms of this illness are extremely risen self-conceit along with a total defiance to both health and life of other individuals, permanently shown “megalomania”, aspiration to force life to go exclusively by a path favorable to the individual (which is, as modern science has proved it, is not only impractical, but also a totally unnecessary task). Patients show no signs of any doubts in relation of correctness of their position, feel no pity and sorrow when using/killing others for the sake of illusionary goals seen only by them, and being always, in this regard, unreachable.

Treatment methods. In the majority of cases specified illness is not subject to healing. Indirect, though almost ineffective mean in a question of curing of the individual from this disease and some social consequences, can be considered only the isolation of patients in houses for mad at early stages of disease’s progress.

9. “Nostalgic”

General description. This illness has been known to mankind from far antiquity, and almost only individuals of “elderly” age are subject to be infected by it. Probably, this particular disease is included in so-called “generation gap” problem.

Symptoms. Signs of manifestation of the disease in question are the glorification of ideals/ideas/views/way of life of generation, to which a patient belongs, in comparison with another modern one. As extreme forms of disease’s manifestation a contempt for younger modern generation along with desire to “return the good old days”(which, as modern physical science has proved, is simply impossible due to mechanics of functioning of a time continuum) should be considered.

Treatment methods. Universal revitalizing remedies “Kindness”, “Care” and “Support” should be considered as only effective means of treatment.

10. “Fanatical”

General description. Along with “Nostalgic” illness this disease has been familiar to mankind since old age, but has been classified as disease only recently. Due to aspects of its manifestation this disease is practically always accompanied by ones from a “Know-it-all” - “Star-like”- “Lord” branch. Most often ones affected with this illness are religious figures of all types of beliefs and religions.

Symptoms. Symptoms of manifestation of this illness are similar to the ones of “Know-it-all” - “Star-like” - “Lord” branch.

Treatment methods. The only possible mean having a chance to weaken the power of disease is a “Suggestion” antibiotic.

11. “Idiot”

General description. This illness represents itself a final point, to which the progress of any previously mentioned disease can once lead. 

Symptoms. Low/extremely low/absent possibilities of any adequate activity and healthy thinking.

Treatment methods. Modern science possesses no knowledge of methods of overcoming of this disease. We, as world medics, can only recommend all patients not to lead themselves to a similar critical form of a course of own illnesses.

12. “Hero”

General description. Representatives of medical science still have not come to an unequivocal conclusion of whether it’s necessary to consider semiology described below as an illness itself, or if it’s not an illness at all, but a very specific, still extremely poorly studied condition of human consciousness, which was possessed only by a small number of people throughout the entire human history.

Symptoms. Symptoms of this condition are the overwhelming feeling of love of individual to the entire world that surrounds him, aspiration to reduce suffering of others, giving them disinterested aid and all forms of support. It’s surprising that this desire is not based on achievement of any proprietary purposes as it can be in case with the “Lord” illness. For an organism of individual in this state a continuous highest synthesis of “Tranquility”, “Good nature” and “Self-confidence” hormones is considered normal. The obligatory requirement of origin of this state is a presence in organism of individual of a “Joy” enzyme. Cases of infection of individuals in this state by any of aforementioned disease are unknown to a medical science.

Treatment methods. We, as representatives of uniform medical science, find it difficult to provide any comments concerning treatment methods for this illness and even doubt the very possibility of classification of this condition as an illness itself.




08.04.2012




Education


Education … what a strange word! A formation of every imaginable images in human minds and souls. An ideal system of formation of the man sleeping, man unreasonable, man unwise, man knowing. Oh, if only information could somehow compensate the absence of reason!

You still perfectly remember those school days, right? You felt yourself such a clever one, such erudite, so understanding and so quickly learning. From the earliest age you already knew that twice two is strictly and by all means four and four only; that no more than three spatial dimensions do exist, and space is both linear and homogeneously; that a man is a successor of a monkey; that no speed is greater that the velocity of light; that modern mankind is millions years in age; that people don’t and never did live considerably more than one century; that a man is a being with no wings and thus cannot fly; that your mother Earth is the only and unique living planet among entire boundless space … All this and so much more has been made your only truth, an axiom, a new picture of the world, if you desire. But not at once … the operation lasted for many years.

All in all, you, probably, still remember, how surprising and full of great secrets the world seemed to you when you were just a small child? And every day brought with itself a new wonderful discovery. Now you have seen a pigeon, gradually pacing on a roadway and tried to pursue it, but he, certainly, has soared in time into the sky, where the way to you was closed; now you have noticed an incredibly beautiful and unforgettable flower on a lawn, which didn’t have a name by that time, and have been inhaling its aroma for a while with a blissful smile on your face; now a butterfly landed directly on your nose as if you were a flower yourself; now you overheard a singing of birdies in wood branches for a first time in your life; now all of a sudden some strange drops poured down from a sky, and wetted you from feet to a head; now a sun looked out as suddenly and started shining directly in your face, as though tickling you with its rays; now you have found some sonorously ringing streamlet and began sailing self-made branches-ships; here and now you are running on a green grass, clapping and joyfully shouting in happiness …

Forget about that all! Your world is so much different now … Educated, verified, measured, lined, predictable, stable. Your world is dead now. Yes, you perfectly feel why that is so - you have become too educated. Your inner live world has been destroyed for many years …

You have been told of the “facts”, invented by your science, but they kept silence of the fact, that they completely contradict each other in their general set. You have been forced to learn by heart formulations of thousand and one “nature law”, yet they never mentioned that all these laws are in fact no more than the theories created by same scientists of sad origin, so close to the mood of yours at present. Your silent and once quiet mind was overloaded with whole armfuls of thick textbooks with completely useless and unnecessary information, and then they made you spit it out back over and over again, like undigested remains of food … is that the way to learn the calmness of mind then? You were tormented by endless mathematical formulas, for they asserted that mathematics is the queen of sciences, and for now you diligently day after day use received abilities for the calculation of own profit. One thousand and once more you have overheard something like “That’s impossible!” or “Stop telling us nonsense!” - and since that time they have smeared all your imagination over a wall of their own whim. Time and again did they reward you with these “terrible” points and marks, looking into your eyes with a reproach, and thus lowered your self-respect over a plinth - as if a man was unworthy of their highest attention unless he has learned to vomit back all these facts for an excellent mark!

All this did not happen at once. Injection after the injection, fact behind the fact, formula next to a formula, law following a law, but they have finally painted their own picture of a world for you to consume, which in turn has been offered to them by others before - and under the pressure of their public authority you had no more willing to refuse. Your carefree and cheerful childhood has sunk into oblivion, and the epoch of education took its place. You resisted and cried out at first, feeling how the poison of unification streams through invisible veins of your soul, you tried to escape from these tenacious paws of dead pictures of the world and imagined laws, but the system has finally prevailed nevertheless. It has formatted and educated you for its own sake, it has filled your mind with stamps and cliché, and made your soul an indifferent observer of own miniature death, it has made you almost ideal mechanism-robot, perfectly capable to carry out his “social mission”, imposed by lying politicians  and mass-media. Since that time you have ceased to feel totally, ceased to rejoice really, you have actually ceased to live. A false world picture has made its dirty affair, and has given you substitutes of the lost joy of innocence in turn … has given you alcohol, drugs, safe sex …

You were a unique creation of God, unrepeatable, unsurpassed, never demanding comparison with others, - but have become one of many. You have educated. Now you have an unloved monotonous work, a respectability, and that head of yours contains one thousand and one knowledge of what actually this world is, that particular one in which you are slowly dying for now. Yes, maybe for now you know the name of that lovely butterfly that sat down on your nose so carefree in your childhood; you remember the pronunciation of the flower, which has inspired you so greatly once; you can teach your son of the types of chemical reactions occurring on the sun that once caressed your face; and pigeons tend to cause only loathing and fear for now when they are stupidly flying over your head. You believe that you have learned this world and have nothing more to be surprised of, for there is one thousand and one answer and explanation in your possession of why something is occurring so, and not differently …

But do wonder, do ask yourself even for an instant, whether you feel yourself easier from all this gathered cargo of your illusory knowledge, whether you feel yourself happier and more cheerful that once so long ago in a half-forgotten childhood … And if you don’t … maybe something is terribly wrong with that new picture of the world of yours?

Yes, they desired a better way. Indeed, they have themselves become victims in this system of formatting souls of humans. Truly, they had no idea what they were doing. Will you be able to break this vicious circle with your own life? And are you capable to create as a master your new - solar and bright - picture of the world?

27.08.2011




Enlightened ones of our age


Following numerous requires of our readers, we have decided to republish a brochure named “Enlightened ones of our age”, firstly published by us three years back. These three years is a considerable term both for us and for you, our dear readers, - so here and now after these three years we are publishing these materials once again from kindness of hearts.

In present edition summary list was essentially transformed, taking into account tendencies of last years, revealed by us, in particular two new forms of psycho-world-outlook condition of human (?) consciousness, named by us as “Blighter” and “Savior” respectively, have been classified.

Let’s note as well, that recently have been observing a curios tendency of growth of the number of individuals with previously classified forms of consciousness “False Prophet” and “Prophet”. We, as world psychologists, find it difficult to precisely define possible reasons of such a tendency, however do assume that main factor of its formation may lie in the preparation of planetary society to certain and yet obscure subsequent high-quality structural changes of its psycho-world-outlook component, which is occurring independently of individual will.

Classification summary list along with detailed description of each form of consciousness of a human individual follows.

1. Blighter

General description. Given form of consciousness is an extreme form of opposite axis “Savior” and is characterized by considerable development of tendencies defined by “False Prophet” category. Is some cases individuals of this group of consciousness by some aspects of their behavior can look similar to representatives of a group of consciousness “Savior”, however it should be noted that  a serious distinction exists between them, because the ultimate goal of representatives of this group is exclusive spirituals enslavement of his adherents in addition with other forms of spiritual-degradation activities. The history of our planetary society knows only few cases of emergence of individuals with specified form of consciousness.

Distinctive features. For individuals in this category a full categorical orientation of judgments as well as lack of any estimation of own spiritual-world-outlook activity and its consequences for the majority of individuals of other groups of consciousness are typical. The only rather permanent aspect of their activity is its destructive and soul-degradation orientation.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Representatives of given form of consciousness are that catalyst, which is capable to transform individuals of groups of consciousness “Doubting” and “Demagogue” into “False Prophets”. Not only do they not shun to use of rough forms of suggestion, but are also ready during rather continuous term to imperceptibly for representatives of specified groups of consciousness influence them, provoking gradual weakening of their willpower and reason and their further mutation into aforementioned types. In separate rare cases representatives of this group (more often through representatives of group of consciousness of “False Prophet”, and not directly) are capable to influence even representatives of group of consciousness “Inspired”.

2. False Prophet

General description. Given form of consciousness is a development of a “Demagogue” form. Its main trait is an amplified to almost incredible limits belief of an individual in correctness and reality of “truth” proclaimed by him, own sanctity and infallibility. More often, however, it comes out that such “truths” are in fact rough self-suggestions, not accompanied by actual spiritual experience, subsequently negatively affecting psycho-world-outlook health of given individual as well as other whom has managed to affect substantially. Let’s note, that by some aspects of its expression individual with described form of consciousness can remind “Prophet”, however a fundamental difference exists between them, because unlike the individual with a consciousness form “Prophet”, individual with given form of consciousness do not put as a basis of his activity reliability of own information and benefit of other individuals, his purpose lie only in a sphere of stimulations of self-arrogance and satisfaction of own ambitions in so-called “glory” and “familiarity”, but for the purpose of concealment of similar ambitions individual can operate in some aspects as an individual with a consciousness type “Prophet”. Let’s also mention that in the last several planetary cycles a significant increase of number of individuals of given type of consciousness have been detected, however concrete reasons of this phenomenon still remain rather disputable. Further development of tendencies of given form of consciousness leads to its transition into a form “Blighter”.

Distinctive features. Leading distinctive features of specified form of consciousness are extremely low ability of an individual of thinking adequately to a situation, analysis of own statements and appeals. Similar reduced ability to introspection and reflection of own spiritual and intellectual conditions finally can lead to their full atrophy. In that case the individual becomes similar to so-called “fanatics” for whom the blindness of own self-consciousness became a basis for their so-called “sermons” and “appeals”. In addition the individual also loses ability to any change of his world-outlook-forming activity, continuing permanently conducting once chosen line and course of actions.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Individuals of this group are practically unable to be on good terms with individual of all other groups exception for individuals with types of consciousness “Doubting” and “Blighter”. In this cases psycho-world-outlook unstable individuals with a form of consciousness “Doubting” can become his so-called “followers” who have believed in their “prophet”, thus forming his “suite”. In case of high numerical increase of this “suite” “False Prophet” can be joined by even more psycho-world-outlook steady individuals with a form of consciousness “Doubting” as well as individuals of “Demagogue” group, who can become misinformed by applied by an individual with a considered form of consciousness methods of concealment of own soul-spiritual essence. Individuals with form of consciousness “Blighter” often become secret and hardly noticeable “spiritual instructors” of individuals of given form of consciousness. These “instructors”, once having got into their trust and operating secretly and unattentively, are capable of gradually transforming of consciousnesses of “False Prophets” towards destructive and spiritual-soul degradation activity absolutely imperceptibly for them.

The greatest so-called “apogee” relation of interaction of individuals of a given form of consciousness reach with individuals of forms of consciousness “Prophet” and “Savior”. The history of planetary society knows many examples of similar “duels”, where there were winners from both sides, however detailed analysis of the essence of interaction of specified groups lies beyond our research.

3. Demagogue

General description. Given form of consciousness is similar on the qualitative aspects to a form classified by us as “Doubting”, however a fundamental difference between them lies in the attitude of individuals with specified form of consciousness to any sort of new, obscure to them information, mainly of psychological and world-outlook types.

Distinctive features. The difference of a given form of individual consciousness is that individual, often possessing no reliable information about the phenomena of spiritual-world-outlook aspect, behaves the way that allows him to hide mentioned absence of knowledge that is often manifested in scornful (and even more often – obsequious and concordant) relation to some formally fixed in consciousness of other individuals prejudices, intentionally or unintentionally ever accepted by them (mainly from individuals of “False Prophet” group). Given form of consciousness is a boundary one between categories “Doubting” and “False Prophet” and can be transformed both to the first and the second. Transformation into a consciousness form “Doubting” can occur in case when for any reasons the individual with given form of consciousness was compelled to reflect on legitimacy and orientation of own activity, as well as reliability of information provided to them. Transformation into a consciousness form “False Prophet” can occur in a case when the individual with a given form of consciousness gradually ceases to reflect on adequacy of own psycho-world-outlook condition and ceases considering himself capable of making mistakes.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Distinctive feature of this type is the interaction with other types, based on foundation of dispute and suppression of opponent’s opinion. It can seem sometimes that individuals with given form of consciousness gain a true delight and satisfaction of their ego-I from these pseudo-discussions, however whether it’s actually true we still have to find out. In this respect it’s most difficult for individuals of this group to meet with individuals of “Philosopher”. A significant role in destiny of individuals of given group can play individuals of types of consciousness “Blighter” and “Savior”, having affected their transformation into either “False Prophet” or “Doubting” respectively.

4. Doubting

General description. Given form of consciousness of a certain type of quintessence between two groups of other categories – “Blighter”, “False Prophet”, “Demagogue” and “Inspired”, “Philosopher”, “Savior”. The majority of individuals of planetary society at present moment can be considering as having this group of consciousness.

Distinctive features. The given form of consciousness is the most characteristic for individual of modern to us planetary society. We believe that it’s connected in a bigger measure with features of consciousness of individuals of modern to us generations as it is, namely with their weak ability of thinking independently and performing inner spiritual search, with their high degree of suggestibility and some other negative traits of consciousness. Given form of consciousness is by its essence extremely mobile and easily giving in to changes into every direction. We cannot build any continuous forecasts of the direction to which the majority of individuals of a given form of consciousness will soon travel, however it’s doubtless that due to traits of named form individuals of two other opposite forms of consciousnesses will play an essential role in this process.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Individuals of given group as easily get into contact with individuals of any other group, as get into their influence. Let’s note that in initial state of their contacts with representatives of other groups of consciousnesses there is no practical interest from their side (often with considerable interest from the initiator of contact), however subsequently, having become influenced by individual of any other form of consciousness, they can gradually start to adopt their spiritual and world-outlook component. We cannot define rather precisely criteria based on which it’s possible to judge unequivocally to what influence of individuals from two categories given one will give in, due to a large degree of uncertainty in a question of his fate-destiny component.

5. Inspired

General description. In a case, when after rather continuous (and, probably, having taken not a single one of so-called “planetary embodiment”) periods of orientation of activity of individuals exclusively to the course of satisfaction of own goals and desires, without paying any considerable attention (or simply complete ignoring) of other planetary reality being the integral background and a basis of their existence, individuals due to some considerable changes in own fate or fates of so-called “relatives” are compelled to step back from egocentric orientation of their life and their “ego-I” component becomes considerably destabilized or completely destroyed, and its place is being occupied (originally in the form of separate thoughts) by comprehension of unity and contiguity of invisible linking of all live beings of universal and planetary continuum among themselves – then a road opens to them to a form of consciousness called by us as “Inspired”. These individuals become rather resistant to any forms of spiritual-soul activity of other individuals, they gain ability to think soberly and estimate objective reality from aspect of its spiritual-degradation component. Let’s note, however, that the history of planetary society knows cases when least resistant to such influences individuals came under the influence of representatives of a form of consciousness “Blighter”, becoming their adherents “False Prophets”. Unfortunately we cannot tell it for sure of whether it’s connected with features of soul-generical predisposition of certain individuals to similar influence of whether it’s a feature of a given form of consciousness as a whole. 

Distinctive features. Individuals of a given form of consciousness are marked by considerable spiritual richness, they are capable of sympathy, love and good attitude towards other individuals (mainly with forms of consciousness “Doubting”, who are starting to seem to them like small children who have not yet learned how to walk steadily in life) without following any proprietary purposes. Representatives of a given form of consciousness, in case of development of its orientation on love and support to all live world surrounding them, can gradually during numerous short so-called “inspirations”, pass to a consciousness forms of “Philosopher” and further to “Prophet”.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Individual of present form of consciousness easily get in contact with individuals of form of consciousness like “Philosopher”, “Prophet” and also “Doubting”. In the first case individuals of forms of consciousness “Philosopher” and “Prophet” can become their special “spiritual mentors” by means of any kind of creative activity (representatives of form of consciousness “Philosopher” usually act that way), or by own life’s example (representatives of form of consciousness “Prophet” usually act that way). In the second case individuals of this group can become this very catalyst which allows individuals of a form of consciousness “Doubting” gradually transform into representatives of this form of consciousness – by the end of similar transformation individuals of a given form of consciousness usually transform into individuals of “Philosopher” form of consciousness, and the former representatives of a “Doubting” form become “Inspired” ones – and their students and followers.

6. Philosopher

General description. Given form of consciousness represents an essential development of traits and tendencies of a form of consciousness “Inspired”.

Distinctive features. Features of this form of consciousness along with presence of traits from “Inspired” form is are the aspiration to the general comprehension by an individual of that universal and planetary continuum is which he is living, desire to understand true purposes of own life and mission, and well as the meanings of all planetary society which member he is, in a context of society universal. Similar aspiration are usually embodied in the form of diverse creative fulfillments in all forms of creative expression of individual’s consciousness, known to the given planetary society. These creative results of a process of spiritual search of the individual can become for representatives of a group of consciousness “Doubting” that soft push, which is capable to force them overthink their target-purpose component of own planetary activity and promote transformation of their consciousness into the form “Inspired”. Let’s note that some aspects of activity of representatives of the given form of consciousness can be similar in their external manifestations with similar aspects of representatives of the form of consciousness “Demagogue” due to the reason that representatives of both mentioned groups are capable for the processes of creative self-expression, however a feature of creative activity of representatives of the given form of consciousness is the absence in it any “ego I” components unlike the activities of representatives of the form of consciousness “Demagogue”.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Individuals of specified form of consciousness communicate well with individuals of forms of consciousness “Prophet” as well as “Inspired”. And if the first for them can be considered as “teachers”, with the example of own disinterested life and unshakable love to all other beings showing them the possibility of own spirit, the second are peculiar “students”, who have already chosen a path of love and now requiring a firm hand, capable to support them during difficult times.

The history of this planetary society knows cases when representatives of a given form of consciousness were capable to resist spiritual-degradation activity in relation to representatives of a form of consciousness “Inspired” from the side of “False Prophets” and “Blighters”, however detailed analysis of these cases lies beyond the limits of our research.

Individuals of a given form of consciousness form a considerable opposition with representatives of a form of consciousness “Demagogue” due to mentioned fundamental differences in features of creative manifestation of their essence. Let’s note that representatives of a given form of consciousness by themselves are very steady and resistant against any forms of soul-degradation activity from other individuals.

7. Prophet

General description. Given form of consciousness is a development of a form of consciousness “Philosopher”. Let’s note that such a transition is a lengthy and difficult process , and can take considerable number of so-called “planetary embodiments” of the individual. The history of considered planetary society knows few cases of manifestation of individuals with given form of consciousness, unlike the manifestation of individuals with a form of consciousness “False Prophet”. However during the last several planetary cycles we have noted the increase in growth of the number of individuals of a given form of consciousness, however concrete reasons of this phenomenon still remain rather disputable. Further development of qualities of a given form of consciousness leads to its transition into a “Savior” form, but the history knows only isolated cases of similar transformations.

Distinctive features. Characteristic of this form of consciousness lies in its ability to operate in unity with spiritual and mental universal continuum, which results in so-called cases of “clairvoyance”, “premonition”, “blessed healing” and some other. Another feature of this form of consciousness is the absence of its possessor attachment to traditional forms of creative expression for given planetary society, their bearers prefer simple and plain way of lie – possibly exactly for that reason the history knows very few official cases of manifestation of similar representatives.

The ability to dig into the essence of events and things and distinguish their spiritual and intrinsic component of individuals of a given form of consciousness is incredibly high – they cannot be confused or brought down by false speeches (actions of representatives of a form of consciousness “Demagogue”), they are able to see the essence of representatives of all other forms of consciousness literally through and through, instantly feeling it at the first meeting. Due to these features they are extremely resistant and practically not giving in to any type of spiritual-degradation activity from the side of other individuals, especially ones with forms of consciousness “False Prophet” and “Blighter”. Concentration on the love, good nature and support among representatives of this form is comparable only to representatives of a form of consciousness “Savior”.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Representatives of given form practically always obviously or implicitly gradually become spiritual mentors for representatives of forms of consciousness “Inspired” and “Philosopher”, by their very way of life showing them the infinity of potential of universal love in relation to any forms of conscious life surrounding them. The greatest “apogee” opposition of representatives of given form of consciousness reaches with representatives of forms of consciousness “False Prophet” and “Blighter”.

8. Savior

General description. The given form of consciousness is an extreme opposite form of the “Blighter” axis and is characterized by considerable quality development of tendencies, defined by the “Prophet” category. The history of our planetary society knows only isolated cases of emergence of individuals with specified form of consciousness.

Distinctive features. Ability of representatives of given form of consciousness to act with spiritual and mental universal continuum reaches its limit, therefore cases of prediction and spiritual healing have extremely extensive character. Concentration on love among representatives of a given form of consciousness is so high that they appear to be capable to accept purposefully awaiting them in the future tortures (as they are able to see in advance possible events not only of their personal future, but a future of all planetary society) for the sake of aid for their representatives. Due to these traits they are totally not giving in to any sort of spiritual degradation activity of other individuals, and in particular representatives of forms of consciousness “Blighter”.

We are even aware of cases when representatives of a given form of consciousness appeared to be able by a way of enormous sincere and love concentration to transform representatives of a form of consciousness “Blighter” into a “Doubting” form, however such cases are absolutely individual and their detailed consideration lies beyond this research. Unfortunately, we cannot precisely estimate the influence and effect of representatives of this form of consciousness on our planetary society, in connection with its considerable time duration and a variety of forms of manifestation of similar individuals.

Aspects of interaction with other types. Representatives of a given form of consciousness appear to be capable of transforming of consciousness of representatives of “Doubting” group and, certainly, “Inspired” ones into a form “Prophet”. Such changed individuals further become those ones who are able inform the most part of representatives of a form of consciousness “Doubting” of the spiritual-world-outlook component of their masters in a clear and figurative form.

02.05.2012




Evolution


-           Hi, dad! Tell me, please, something about the evolution!

-           Of evolution? You mean that something, which is the engine of progress?

-           Dad, mind you! It’s the science which is now sort of an engine of that evolution, and evolution is something … that was before us. We are supposed to live here for quite a while, millions of years, if they don’t lie to us in schools. Sort of evolving here, apparently.

-           Right you are, son, almost evolved up to a threat of mass-destruction already. Or progressed. So … what exactly did you want to learn of that … what’s the name … evolution?

-           Just a couple of questions, dad. Because when I started asking them our teacher, she stared at me so spitefully that I have almost lost my tongue during that moment. And, well, gave a birth to a bad mark, so that I stop asking silly questions henceforth - she said that it’s anti-scientifically.

-           Well, sonny, at present everything, not fitting itself into such inconsistent scientific picture of the world, is called anti-scientific. That’s the exact reason why we are, e-r-m, have been so promptly scientifically and progressively evolving, that’s it …

-           Well, dad, so … today at a lesson of biology the teacher was telling us that I as well as you and all-all people of the world have progressed from a monkey, and at first life was born in the ocean and after that moved to a land, and that all animals have been evolving for a long-long time, periodically falling in mutations for a better effect and, well … finally mutated up to their current state, or so they say. That the first-living organisms have arisen from the Ocean …

-           From the Ocean, but not that one of which they are presently thinking. Soon, I feel, someone of these under-evolved monkeys, calling themselves no lesser than men, are going to kill others for the feeding … Mutations, you say?

-           Yep, father, mutations! Terrible force, that’s it. The engine of the evolution … Listen, explain please at first to me how that did happen, that fishes have crept out onto a coast of the ocean, aye? Have they grown feet themselves or what? And why not wings at once - that would be so much more convenient that way, right? I feel it with my bones!

-           Well, wings had no chance to appear there … they couldn’t be grown from fins, right? And feet … feet have grown … gradually. Hundred thousands of years have been passing; extremities have been gradually growing … and have finally grown, at last. A gradual evolutionary process, or sort of. Most likely.

-           Wait, dad! Fishes do not live for millions of years - how did they even manage to grow these extremities gradually, huh? Once jumped on the coast in mass quantities, looked around themselves with grin smiles, noticed how great it would be to live on the land instead of water and decided to grow themselves feet, to be able to run once … or started to grow back their fins to be able to creep at least? And then they surely jumped back from the coast into the ocean and told to the rest of their cowardly comrades of that marvelous new world, lying around their feet … fins?

-           Those born to creep will never swim … Well, perhaps, these were some special, most courageous fishes. They, so to say, having jumped all over the coast and safely jumped back to the sea, have kept these images and actions in their genetic memory, and all the rest of generations could take advantage on this newly-acquired knowledge. Probably, well, these were one of a kind heroic fishes. Trailblazers, if it’s possible to say so, or first-creepers.

-           Silly ones of some sort … wasn’t an entire ocean enough for them? Listen … and how’s that - in genetic memory? Did new generations of fishes devour, to say so, their dying ancestors and were instantly “enlightened” with this new knowledge?

-           Well, dunno know, probably, there still was some mechanism of transfer of the new information between representatives of one kind of live beings … probably it still exists.

-           Well, and how did they manage to grow their feet “gradually”, aye? At first a half of foot has grown, fish has noticed that it’s, surely, a good sign, but does not allow one to jump or at least creep on the ground, and gills still disturbed her … and, well, transferred into the future her “message” to the descendants to be engaged in self-improvement from the very birth … I mean while still being a caviar?

-           Probably, afterwards they began to be born as such, with fins-feet. So that it would be easier for them to walk on the ground.

-           And how did they manage to swim in that case? Or did they specifically forget how to swim for the sake of creeping?

-           Well, I have no idea, sonny. But that’s what the official evolutionary theory of live organisms is stating … and who are we to reject it completely?

-           Yeah, my teacher in school told me almost the same way! To tell the truth, I asked her a next question after that … so well, let’s say they have even somehow managed to affirm themselves on the land … but why not all of them? After all, if it’s so nice living on the ground under the sun, why then the part of these most different sea organisms hasn’t even dared to go hand-in-hand with colleagues? Has the genetic memory of some of them suddenly died off and a mass amnesia took place … or were they so coward that had no even a slightest desire to follow their “big brothers”?

-           Probably, sonny, there was no more need for any more of them to leave the ocean - those who have already performed that act, were enough.

-           Yeah, sure, and overland creatures have, of course, transferred the “message” to their sea colleagues - hey, stop your crawling outside of water, morons, there is no more place for the rest of you under the sun.

-           Yeah, I do agree, that sounds quite silly. But followers of Darwin have not though up anything cleverer up to now.

-           I still don’t understand much, dad! Take, for example, the following aspect - how did these overland beings then manage to grow themselves wings … gradually … plumelet after a plumelet and bone after a bone? They, probably, at first tried to jump and jump from the ground - and have finally jumped to a state when they could fly up and soar, yeah?

-           Well, some sort of mutations can happen there from time to time. It was that way and then - voila! - an entire new wing has grown all of a sudden due to change of genes under the influence of external factors of environment.

-           Dad … do you even believe that yourself, huh? What’s that - external factors? Is that when someone scary pursues you, wanting to gobble up, and suddenly wings do born from a fear instead of former feet? Or did a radiating infection took place there a very long time ago, or the sun suddenly started to shine somewhat special? And, hey, dad, don’t you think that if the level of mutations is so low, it resembles more a sorting-out process, instead of evolutionary one? As if someone made an experiment on a group of animals, tried something … it hasn’t turned out … and ceased to continue in that direction? And, besides, there are some unusual animals … penguins for instance … duck-bills … did they over-mutated?

-           Well … mutations is a terrible force, indeed. Not even amnesia, but even a death can occur after these mutations … gradually, that’s it. It turns out that we are all mutants of some kind for now, to a certain degree.

-           Dad, explain to me one more thing … why are these, how are they called, mammals, are considered more evolutionary and “advanced” in their development, to say so, than all fishes, amphibious, bacteria, viruses … after all even named viruses can destroy these mammals in no time! Who even dared to define which “kingdom” of animals came from which one, aye? After all, they have still coexisted together … are they to be considered an unfinished, “stuck” branch of evolution then?

-           It turns out to be that way … but who actually knows? Possibly, we along with monkeys are the evolutionary avantguard of this world? And the rest of animals do promptly catch up with us, hurry, enviously looking in our eyes as if saying: “We wanna be like you are, pray teach us, kind ones!”

-           It turns out to be a planet of monkeys, dad! Well, we were told even that way that a man came out from a monkey, which was improved by a hard work, being given elements of true human-like reason … somesuch. Yet there is one thing which I still cannot comprehend - why do modern monkey like the one we observed yesterday in a zoo not turn in us, huh? After all, for how many millions of years has a man been living along with them … to a zero effect. And no work helps them … as if they all missing something vital to finally turn into a man.

-           Well, on the other hand, sonny, that should be considered as advantage, I guess. Just imagine what could happen if some sort of monkey was presented with a small suitcase with buttons to manage ballistic missiles with nuclear warheads? We had no chance to speak even of a planet of monkeys that way!

-           Yep, father, that’s right. From time to time I have a sensation that it were not monkeys who have ascended to men, but some men descended downwards to monkeys - with no way back. Sort of a point of non-return.

-           Well, that would be an involution that way, son. And we are supposed to be talking only of evolution, right? Of all these strange scientific theories, containing one thousand and one contradiction …

-           Alla Zinaidovna would surely reward you with a lowest possible mark for these heretical thoughts with no delay! And would probably add that you have very little intellectually evolved.

-           Well, I am no more afraid of such turn of events, sonny. I have already, so to say, tormented and washed myself in this educational system - and now have to make sure that no other man will do the same with no thoughts and questions of their own. And after all you know … I would not refuse to gain wings like these “lesser” than I birds. It’s somewhat much more convenient to live with wings, you know …

-           Flying everywhere, hitting nobody, right? And all the sky is ours?

-           And don’t you forget of the clouds! You know, I have just been thinking that … maybe … maybe all this magnificent nature variety, among which we are living, is truly being projected and implemented by someone … someone incredibly powerful and still invisible and imperceptible for many of men? How do you think, oh my young biologist?

-           Everything is possible, father!

15.02.2012




Free like a wind


Free like a wind

Azure smooth surface of a sea sparkled and shined under beams of a rising sun. Waves rolled over each other, foamed - and, having been picked up by a new stream, - were carried away. A fresh breeze was blowing - one that happens here day after another - one who have collected its tribute of moisture from a sea and was now desperately throwing it in the faces of men in a form of brilliant cold drops. A wind inflated sails and they, sagging before its force, were heeling the ship sideways. But - only slightly. Strong cables, adhering a vessel to a coast, didn’t desire to grant a wind even a slightest chance to shift this machine even for ten meters.

A captain’s shout ringed in the air - and sailors began to descend from ship’s masts to continue their duty on a deck. Soon this frigate will leave a port into its next sailing, but for now - there were shouts, carried downwind, noise of adjusted tackles, soft scratch of ship’s boards, which has been accepting a next portion of cargo onboard, and yet a wind’s whistle in a face.

A strange and unclear premonition was still making him feel uneasy: a melancholy of abandoned - even for a day or two, while new provisions were being bought and captain’s assistants were conducting brisk conversations with dealers, trying to lower prices for goods, - but still home, new home among boundless waters and storm … a joy of incoming adventure and some sort of strange presentiment, that the life he has been experiencing for now will very soon change, that his path will sharply be altered and he will be compelled to make a new important step in own life. Two weeks ago this sensation was born in him, three months ago he became a ship’s boy …

“If a man trusts himself - he can once achieve his dare dreams. Remember it well, sonny” - words of his father, which he, a simple tailor, gave him before son’s journey - into his new travel into boundless sea spaces, into a path that has been awaiting him since childhood and called for in magic dreams. A path that was going to change so soon, granting him a new choice.

A captain’s shout rings aloud once again in the air - and sailors start lifting sails. Their captain was an inborn leader - a bane of pirates of the Caribbean sea, he in his youth has made his name himself through dozens of brilliant attacks on pirate vessels. A remarkable strategist and even greater tactician, he has now become a sea trader - one of many. Yet the power has always been with him - even now it was swirling in that man, loudly appealing to his crew for the frigate’s departure from a port.

* * *

Raised and fluttering sails. A light breeze blowing in the face - soon it will change to the approaching squall and they will have to lower sails and start maneuvering downwind among rolling multimeter waves, so that storm cannot turn the ship sideways - even though a wind can change its direction more often that once in a minute. But all that will happen in fifteen or twenty minutes, when a storm will finally overtake them - and for now he was looking forward, on a boundless smooth water surface, opening before his eyes, and a sensation of the approaching of the time of a choice and changes, how he has agreed to call it for himself, were becoming only clearer and stronger.

More than once during these three months of his new life among open seas their ship has passed through the most dashing and desperate storms, which have been known to the Caribbean Sea in the last two years. And each time the captain and team pulled it out of the most, apparently, desperate situations - evaded from direct attacks of several buccaneer barques and from battles in private with titans - enemy frigates and even once with a galleon ship. For this is the way their captain was - free like a wind adventurer and bane of pirates, knowing no such word as a retreat.

* * *

Furiously the wind whistled and waves showered boards of the vessel, trying to break or tilt their frigate on one side, so that in a new impetuous pressure they can definitely finish off these pity daredevils, who have dared to struggle against mighty water elements.

The storm has been raging for almost an hour.

Waves have been beating on all boards of the vessel. The wind blew off from feet even those men slowly creeping on a deck of the ship, waves washed away into the storming sea and absorbed into its abyss crewmen, still shouting something in their last minutes.

This was one of the most terrible storms into which their vessel have got this year - or maybe these years. He knew not - he only saw how easily the sea finished with all those whom he has always considered as invincible … unbeaten until this dreadful day.

The new wave pours over him, trying to pull out a saving cable from hands - and yet another desperately floundering man is carried away, rolling on a deck with a scrap of rope in hands … a splash, which sound sinks in the noise of wind - and everything is over …

Waves, waves, waves. Wind, wind, wind.

A saving cable in hands - his unique link with this ship - and the only rescue.

Storm. A cruel wind, rushing about here and there.

The elements triumphed.

* * *

He didn’t know how much time has already passed. He knew nothing of the location of a ship. He cannot see other crewmen - only sea waves, whipping on the ship’s board, only a scratch of ship’s planks under water weights - and own immobilized hands, holding an iron rope.

Minute, two, three … Ten, twenty, thirty …

Slowly did time flow. Methodically did waves beat in the ship. Voices of crewmen have been silenced already - whistling of wind muffled all other sounds. The body cannot be felt, only the thought - lonely though-phrase, preventing him to immediately uncouple own hands and be washed off into the water, - “If a man trusts himself - he can once achieve his dare dreams” … To keep believing was the only thing he could do for now - to trust himself and remain courageous. And then he can survive. And then he should survive.

Consciousness ceased to serve him at times - and then strange dreams were seizing him …

He saw himself as an admiral of a huge squadron. He saw himself giving orders to captains of his ships during battles - and people with both boldness and readiness in their eyes going to execute these orders. People trusted him and were ready to offer their lives for him to live on, but he was ready to sacrifice his own for his people to survive - and fought himself on a front line - with pirates and robbers, who have filled these once peaceful spaces of recently unknown sea - in the sea and on the land, when they were starting to assault a sea port. He battled the enemy of his state as well - yet this was far less often.

He saw himself promoted to some rank, saw faces of court men inclined in respect and admired ones of his sailors-soldiers, when he was approaching them, openly bearing the award …

And then he saw his dark blue insensible hands and a floor of the vessel, being constantly poured by sea waves. Saw fixed on the ship and moved here and there iron rope, being grasped by his hands. And then despair overflowed him.

And then once again - oblivion. And again - a storm. Oblivion. Storm. Oblivion. Storm.

And then he regained consciousness once more - and there was no cable in his hands any longer. He was being carried by waves among heaps of boards - by some sort of miracle he was still alive. He collected last bits of forces and grasped a wide thick tree log - possibly, remains of a mast of their former ship, - there were no more doubts that their ship has been destroyed. He pulled this piece of wood and clasped t, trying to hold.

And once again comes the oblivion …

* * *

When he opened his eyes once again, the storm has already extinguished - the sun was shining and its rays were jumping and playing in water. He was being carried on azure waters of this sea together with a piece of former mast, and once again he could count only on himself - and own force of spirit.

And thus he was keeping. Gathering the last bits of remaining forces. Knowing that he has practically no hope for survival. And nevertheless he was keeping. And waves were throwing a pity ship’s piece together with a man, who has seized it …

And when a vessel appeared on the horizon, he had no more strength even to rejoice - or to send a signal. But he was noticed - and a ship slowly and smoothly approached a small branch of tree together with seizing it in a death grip unmoving person.

For now he could barely remember these moments. It seems that after he has been dragged aboard and men have started reviving him, they tried to ask him of something. However, everything he was able to tell his saviors were some muffled lows of disobeying lips. 

Then he was placed into some cabin and has been sleeping for long-long. From time to time he woke up from nightmares and couldn’t come to his senses for quite a while … But he finally regained common sense after a month of this sailing on this trading vessel, as he has learned afterwards from its captain.

A month was necessary for him to prove that he is worthy of living - and several more years to prove that he is worthy of a better life - so that a fork of his way and its consequences have become visible at last.

He has stayed for a month on a ship that has picked him up - in thirty miles from a destroyed vessel. As he has learned later when he could be roused after two weeks, the captain of the ship that have rescued him, - after he has become a witness of the tragedy which have comprehended his former ship, - has given an order to search the area for survivors. But there was no one live found in five miles radius from the wreckage. The captain of the rescue ship couldn’t tell if there was anyone else who have survived the storm - anyway they couldn’t find any.

Yet he survived - by some sort of miracle. As the captain of the rescue vessel told him, they have already lost hope to find any survivors and have started sailing further, and almost the moment after they have stumbled upon him - lying on a piece of a tree which he didn’t want to part with when they were trying to lift him up and drag on a ship’s deck. They have tried to find out what has happened to him and whether he has been one of survivors from a vessel, witnesses of which destruction they have recently become - yet he was so emaciated and thick, that they could achieve nothing from him. Then he was put in a cabin and was treated the best way they could do it. Two weeks from that month during which they have been sailing to a seaport, he has lain in bed. Ate very little, slept a lot. At times he rose in cold sweat from bed, shouting something that he would have the power to pass through it and survive, that he must do that, that he is free and his own way would soon completely reveal before him. They didn’t listen to that attentively - considered it all a delirium.

For two weeks he has been struggling for living. No, for two weeks and three days. The rescue vessel has passed a tragedy spot only three days after a storm - and only after three days after mentioned events has picked him up in the sea. A sea, which was already quiet and solar by that time …

For two more weeks he has been sailing together with them on their course - when his new life has started, the one which had no chances for upcoming if he has surrendered before. If he has ceased to struggle, has despaired. He hasn’t despaired. Hasn’t surrendered. He was battling - and has won to start a new life - premonition of which didn’t leave him before.

 * * *

- James, tell the captain of the “Guard” to set course for Plymouth. We are coming back home.

- Aye, it shall be done, captain!

- Wheel to the right! Trim the sails to the wind!

- Let’s turn, let’s turn! We are heading for Plymouth!

Shouts were carried downwind. Sailors curried about on the ship.

He was looking forward - on today’s peaceful sea surface, flying seagulls. It’s time for squadron to return home - battle has been won, and home is calling. They will repair ships and replenish provisions and will be on the way once again, - free like a wind sea wanderers. He and his crew - devoted and trusting him, their admiral.

Yes, they will return to a harbor. But at first they will sail to a different city - the one where he has grown and haven’t been for such a long time … long seven years …

Returning home … He will see his father, a common tailor, once again, after these five years - the father who have told him such important words in that memorable day of trials. If a man trusts himself, he can achieve much …

Yes, these words were sustaining him. They were holding him when he was sinking in a storm. They were keeping him when he, already being a captain of own ship, - has been fighting in seas. These words have kept him. And they are keeping him now - after these long seven years.

They are keeping him. The one, who does not surrender.

15.03.2012




In search of a world


A fast-fast running. Running from all forces. He must escape – he can do no other. Info-scanner supplied him with a solid data about the area surrounding him for thousands meters around, but it still had great shortcoming – it couldn’t provide location of living beings. Only the information of the area – any tilt angle of any hillock and a tree, types of growing plants, land’s relief – shortly saying, lots of useless stuff. But the most important thing he didn’t show – and this became obvious only recently. Certainly, he still had a thermal sensor – a faithful companion of any dimension traveler – but it was useless almost the same way! After all, who could possible imagine that he will be thrown here and in that time period! The only thing that could possibly rescue him were his own feet. His feet and capabilities of own “jet satchel”, working on liquid hydrogen…

The last invention of physical science! Unsurpassed movement possibilities! Travel in an flash of time! Blah, blah, blah… Dunno know what, but modesty definitely wasn’t in the list of other “numerous advantages” of physicists of the Central Institute Of Learning. Everything that this satchel was capable of is a half an hour flight above the ground at 20-30 meters altitude – and afterward it could be safely send to rest in peace in a warehouse waiting for a new recharge. Actually, the root problem was exactly that it had energy enough only for two-three minutes of travel…

Ten thousand meters… nine and a half … five hundred … four … They are getting close. He won’t escape that way.

That’s it – the last chance of survival… He activated his “unsurpassed movement possibility”. The last chance of rescue… Stars in the eyes… dizziness… smack of blood in a mouth… He has to pay something for this possibility too. Whistle and roar behind his back. A throw through space. Up and forward. Whistling of air in ears…

Ten meters … twenty … twenty five … enough. He turned info-scanner on once again. Now you will be of great help to me, buddy! Now we shall quickly locate disposition of our “Wild Boar”. Ten kilometers for a scanner is a pure trifle. And for him ten thousand meters is really not a joke. Not a joke if they must be passed in two-three minutes term… Only to get to it, only to be able to escape. And his beloved “Wild Boar” will welcome him then. He will leave from here – it’s not his place. In this world and in this time.

Oh, what funny creatures he has met! He didn’t recognize them at first … was idly standing, silly staring – has lost lots of precious seconds then… It’s strange, but he has recognized the one whom he has met in this time only already being pursued in a run. Yes, he remembered them. Once in a childhood in a computer base of the spaceship of his father he came across a new fragment of text still unfamiliar to him:

“Information code:  1231256451.

Information type code: 534543254.

Section code: 534535.

Information type: general usage.

Access: public.

Cryptography method: none.

Enciphering: not applied.

Source: information banks of the Central Institute Of Learning.

Title: Prehistories inhabitants of planet Earth. Fauna. Dinosaurs.”

Everything was clear for him by that time … everything except the last three sentences.

Dinosaurs … here’s one of them before his eyes … behind his back, to be exact. He was coming off from him… Two hundred kilometers per hour – a wild roar of air in ears… At least space suit protects him from such “movings”.

He was coming off. Tyrannozaur (for some reason he was confident that it was him) could not run with such a speed to matter what. They were divided by several millions of years – divided yesterday. And today – only by distance – extremely short one.

Forward, forward, forward. He has no time for hesitation. Maximum possible acceleration… Minute-two before the ending of air travel… Sharp peep of a sensor. Ten seconds before the ending of flight… nine… eight… seven… Not it’s time for landing.

Turning off engines. Turned-in feet. Sharp push and collision with a ground. And then he cried from a sharp outbreak of pain in feat and mentally cursed himself with last imaginable words for own nonsense – he still hasn’t learned to land down normally for the last year, but after all was so proud of received rank “Space pioneer. Class : veteran”. At least he operated his “Wild Boar” much better… Not every rookie could be proud of the received on a year-term basis skill class “veteran”, after all!

So, nine kilometers are already behind. Somewhat about five hundred meters still remained. Yes, here it is – accurate and reliable radio signal of a beacon of his vessel on the info-scanner. Five hundred twenty four meters on a straight line. Yes, exactly that way he was going to move – to run, precisely… Only the right foot somewhat badly obeys him… No matter, forward! Quickly moving feet. Periodic short-term jumps of one foot. He was reaching his spaceship…

Battened-down locks. Emergency activation of engines. Dark enormous silhouette which has appeared on a horizon. Quicker, quicker, quicker! Now he is already under the defense of “Wild Boar”, but for this patrol star fighter the beastie that has appeared on sight and was now quickly closing the distance could be a serious opponent. Therefore he has to leave from this planet. To go to another world and another time. More favorable and best for him. He was absolutely sure that such one does exist.

Quicker, quicker, quicker! His hands operated automatically, needing no brain control – more than a time or two performed work. Work of the traveler of dimensions, of the space pioneer.

Here … the analysis of galactic location … Star system Miracle. Planet Stiggs. Here, planetary coordinates of the vessel. I-know-it-all already! Now, further… Calculation of a trajectory and take-off parameters from a planet… Faster, faster, compuer … time presses … Time does not wait.

All done… Preparation of weapons system… No way! Not these pity guns will not help him a lot … a several minutes is required for their activation – only several minutes, which he does not possess. He stirred up his head. Next, next, next!

Flight point – planet’s orbit. Yes, let’s get out into orbit, and then decide what to do next. Finally, the calculation of parameters is completed. Permission for launch? Yes, yes – I give that permission! Launch, launch, launch! Faster! Five hundred meters before the menace … Do it!

Push. Shake-up. Push again. Once more shake-up. Hit. He flown away aside. Hitting of a head. Pain… Oblivion…

* * *

Slowly opened eyes. A terrible headache… Where is he? What’s with him?

He looked around. Habitual terminals … control panels … “Wild Boar” – words came from the depth of his consciousness. Painly familiar word. His vessel. His loyal time, time and again helping him in cosmic spaces. Him, bearing a proud name of the pioneer…

It turns out that he is alive then. He is alive? Alive! Have been rescued?

He slowly rose. It’s necessary to understand of where he is now along with a ship… Lonely though “alive” at the tip of the tongue, steps towards navigation terminal, the head that is being shaken here and there, stream of blood coming from a nose… He input query quickly. Five, ten seconds… He continued to look at the monitor bewildered…

“Inquiry number 1432435623.

Onboard computer of a space starprobe vehicle “Wild Boar” class patrol fighter…

Location. Star system: Miracle. Planet: orbit of planet Stiggs.

Code of orbit’s coordinates 65466456”.

Finally he got it. Orbit, orbit of a planet. Before making such an unsuccessful landing with a head into a wall, he has managed to set a ship’s course. Yes, and the vessel has safely orbited. For how much he has been travelling? He has darted a fleeting glance at time sensors.

Second, two, three… His jaw started drooping slowly… What?? He wiped his eyes. No, gears cannot mislead him- the universal decoder of time flows invented by experts could accurately and reliably detect a time interval in which he was, and therefore his owner as well. But … this?? Plain letters and symbols, which have now gathered into totally senseless lines…

“Type of counting of time flows: zero year of our era on a planet Earth.

Year: 8056”

8056! Eight thousand fifty sixth year of our era based on Earth time! He departed from Earth into this system and it was two thousand two hundred seventy fifth year … and now … eight thousand? It’s impossible! Or… Collapser of time has been activated?

Collapser of time… distorter of time waves, which allowed to make jumps into the past… The latest development. He was one of few others who has received a right to mount this device into his vessel. He deserved it – but the task, given to him and other same free space rangers by the United Galactic Council for questions of colonization of outer worlds and resource supply of distant systems, was uneasy. But the reward was also great – the war cruiser under own command and such amount of credits that would suffice for ten normal lives.

Time jump … exploration of world in the past… collection of all information into data banks of the vessel, mining of resources… scientists hoped to solve problems of raw exhaustion of star system by transportation of cargoes in time. A grandiose and unpredictable idea at the same time. He was given only a patrol vessel – fast and maneuverable, but totally improper for any other purposes exception for research of star spaces. He had only to collect information, the thing that he has been doing until recent events…

So, the time collapse was activated without precalculations. But … but after all it was designed only to travel into the past … And … and so … in … the future? Through five thousand years? How? But … but devices shouldn’t lie … it turns out that he was carried away forward by five thousand years? He must return back! No one has ever tried to use time collapse to make jumps into thousands of years forward… This mechanism was simply not designed for this purpose… It’s necessary to test the generator.

He sat down at a control panel. Inquiry, second, third – the machine still served him well. What??? D…destroyed? H…how? He became cold…

Then, launching up from a planet, in a hurry he has forgotten to activate atmospheric, dust and asteroid shields, serving as reliable protection to ship’s hull during its space travel. Has forgotten … he has forgotten even to be fastened – that’s why he has hit a head during a take-off. A huge dent on the right side of a ship – just where the collapser is mounted … there was a collision? Bu the vessel didn’t descended from a course … didn’t … probably, onboard computer still guided a ship into an orbit … even after a crash with … what? Asteroid? Can be…

But what difference does it make now?! Now, when his unique possibility to come back home has been literally pulled out of his hands? When he has appeared to be separated from the world by a timeframe of five thousand years! One before the unknown … He … he hardly managed to get safely escape one danger – and here before him is yet another one, even more serious. Terrible for its unpredictability… No, no, no!  This is a delusion, unreality, dream!! A veil before the eyes…

Then, weakened and exhausted by recent shocks, he has fallen. Fallen to a floor of the ship and has begun crying…

 * * *

Quiet and rhythmical beating of heart. Deep calm breathing. Breath. Exhalation. Breath again. Exhalation. Breath. Exhalation.

Calm down. Only to be quite. Everything is all right. All is good. There are no desperate situations – and he will find solution for this as well. No matter how ridiculous and hopeless it might seem. Maybe, yes, probably it does seem hopeless at first sight, but only as far as that – by sight, full of fear and disbelief. The second sight will be wiser, it will become not a lamentation, but a seeking of a way out instead – a search for a solution. Now he was looking with a second sight.

The time collapse is destroyed. He cannot return to the past. Unable to travel in time at all. He got stuck in this time and the most reasonable thing for him now is to live in it. Keep living there until he finds a find of returning. Whether he can at all? – silly question. Senseless. He doesn’t know answer to it. Maybe – maybe yes, or maybe no. But the most valuable thing he do for now is to start mastering that time. Not for thing, not in vain does he bear a proud name of the pioneer – and he shall become such one in eight thousand and something year.

So, it is decided. Bridges are burned. There is no way to return back and that’s why we shall move forward. And who knows – what is awaiting him behind the horizon?

 * * *

Turned off engines of space vessel – he was landing on a planet. Already painfully familiar landscape… Same planetary coordinates. Same planet in the same solar system. Here his such a strange way has begun – and here it will continue. He checked himself. Everything seems to be in place. A space suite is on him, thermal, info sensors and all other electronic tinsel as well. A stock of liquefied food for a month. Weapons? Yes, here it’s hanging on his belt – a faithful laser semi-automatic gun LZ-195. Heart? There is a courage, unshakable determination and awakened passionate thirst of adventures. He prepared well for this campaign – much better than in the last time, for his way is a way to uncertainty.

The sun in the blue-green sky of a planet Stiggs. Miles and miles to go. Where? To a civilization. He truly hoped that such a one does exist here. It cannot be that this planet with so picturesque inundated woods and plains has not been populated and colonized, and hasn’t become a home of other inhabitants of this Universe. He was assured that there is a civilization living here, in the eight thousand fifty six year of the Earth time. He believed and that and went forward, walked through plains of the planet.

 * * *

Shot. Somersaults. Shooting again. He didn’t assume at all that such a beautiful by its appearance flora of the jungles of this planet can be so dangerous in a short distance.

Lianas – predators, twisting around his feet and hands, blocking any access and possibility to get the weapon … enormous plants like increased in twenty times sundews, that unmistakably guessed his location and greedy opened wide their “mouths” with full sets of sharp as needles leaves … root of trees, as though purposely clinging to feet, blocking his passage…

These jungles disliked strangers. Or even probably hated them at all. But it became obvious not at once. Much like the danger he has faced that day … five millennium ago? 

Breakthrough. Once again lianas braid him from feet to the head, trying to pull out lethal weapon. Nay, you won’t get me so simply! So simply … it means, will get after all? So untimely thoughts … completely untimely … for now both brain and body were working literally reflex – months of trainings in the Academy served him very well.

Somersaults. Turning. Shot. The next liana flows down to the ground in the liquefied form. Here comes the next one … shot – his face was struck by lumps of meanly smelling green substance … Whistle over the head… Down! Something flies over his head. Will see later… Or better not to see at all? To escape? And will he? Anyway he has to try. So … only fraction of a second to make a decision … it’s decided – we’ll break through!

Somersaults on the ground far away from the spot where he sprawled on the ground so untimely… Here he jumps on his feet… Again comes the noise of dissected air… A turn towards new danger… Late! … Too late … he wasn’t in time. Extremely strained in turning of the body muscles … wild pain in joints  … greet scale-like mass flowing near his face … something painfully seized his hand, trying to break a space suit … turning … his weapon drops out from hands …

The end, this is the end – a though flashed in mind. Without a weapon he is not much of a fighter… Biting blow on a helmet. Stars in the eyes – but his helmet sustained a strike. Last, desperate breakthrough – an attempt to escape from the web which has braided him … no way! – he was held very firm – with a death grip … That way he may become that very dead one very soon.

Something extremely heavy, which has fallen from above. Bloody haze which has laid eyes… No escape… no escape… no escape… no way out … the end … No, no, no! I will not surrender! I am a warrior, and warriors don’t give up – they either prevail over the enemy, or die on the battlefield. I have to prevail. I must! Must! Must! I must … but how?! He couldn’t even move – carnivorous inhabitants of this planet were holding him as strongly as possible. How? How? How?! His mind were rushing here and there in search of a solution…

Fool! Fool! Fool! And how couldn’t I remember earlier?! Already once, five thousand years ago, rescued him invention … maybe it will help him now? It has to! Jet satchel, completely charged with liquid hydrogen, “unsurpassed movement possibility” is not a joke at all. And absolutely slightest efforts are required for its activation – brain signal, sent to an armored neuro-pulse helmet of a space suit  … already familiar roar behind his back … breakthrough … crunch and gnash … here the branches which have braided him are torn apart … some sort of creature flies up from his helmet and is carried away by a wild stream of air … freedom! Ten, twenty meters … Freedom!

Oh, how great is that, when nobody is flattening and pressing you down, so you can breath quietly and freely!

Blue-green sky. Dozens of kilometers of planet’s jungles. Where should he go?

“Home”, - uninvited thought came.

No! He cannot return back home – not now … not yet. His way lies here – under the sun of this world – and on this planet. In this world in search of a better on – in search of worlds. He is eternal space wanderer, roaming through boundless spaces of the Universe. He is a soldier. He is a researcher. He is a fighter. And his path lies here for now. Here.

 * * *

Boundless kilometers lying ahead … Far away, as his gaze allowed to see, the same endless sea of jungles was stretching. Woods, which disliked strangers a lot. Well, no … here some sort of gleam appeared far away. His eyes were blinded for a moment. Some enormous plateau … mountains … And once again some sort of sharp pain in the eyes…

Closer … even closer … approximately five dozens of kilometers. He intercepted his breath. City! My God, city! CITY! The planet is manned, its habitable! Brothers by reason, whoever you are, I have found you! – he thirsted to cry out.

This was an incredible feeling – to see – to know! – that you are not lonely in this world. That he is not lonely here even in eight thousand fifty sixth year… Forward! Move one! He must meet with them, inhabitants of this planet! Yes … and now he has got a chance … chance to return back to his time … it’s small … but nevertheless … still …

Something painfully missed a bit in his breast.

Thirty kilometers … twenty five … Once again a flash before his eyes… Rays of light, shining in the face… Consciousness… as if someone’s mind was trying to get into his consciousness. Quiet insinuating voice and – silent contemplation. Eight, ten, twelve seconds… He has taken breath. Strange feeling passed – but some remains of this sensation were nevertheless left…

He was checked … Yes, they tested him. What for? There is no response. Did he pass a trial? Silence.

Anyway, inhabitants of this planet still have not shown themselves and so he quietly continued his flight. Well, once we get there – fly there – we shall know.

Here he is very close – only five kilometers remained. Only now he has seen that what was considered by him as a city didn’t resemble it at all in the true sense of the word. At least it didn’t resemble the city typical for Earth in the third century.

Sparkling domes. There is no sign of either highways or roads. Nothing which could remind him of the terrestrial city. Gardens … Huge areas of gardens … Neither plants, nor mechanized complexes or skyscrapers … nothing like that by which Earth of his time was characterized.

Gardens and parks. Sparkling domes, covering construction of wondrous forms… No sort of parallelepipeds or cylinders of Earth constructions – no, here each and every building was special, original – as if created in beauty. It seemed that times of wooden and stone architecture of his ancestors returned to this planet – have returned in even more enriched form.

Windings, curves, transforms… Buildings – phoenixes. Buildings – freakish spirals sparkling with all colors of rainbows. Buildings – opening buds of flowers. Buildings – giant trees. Nowhere to be seen there were rough geometrical forms, but the beauty of natural forms, decorated with human imagination.

Whether a human? Whether they live on this planet?

Uncertainty. He still didn’t see any inhabitant of a planet, but has been already noticed by many of them. Now many of their sights were attentively focused on him – dozens, and maybe even hundreds. Attentive watching and goodwill. Here it is raising and extending, spreading all around…

He was welcomed – but still didn’t see them. Where, where are they? Where are inhabitants of this world who possess such unusual abilities?

Scientists of his age have already invented devices, allowing to detect mental emanations… but they worked totally unstable and often glitched – there was no talk of reading one’s thoughts. And here – here people (people?) were living without them? Or does he simply not see them?

Ten kilometers … eight … seven … Here they are!

People? Yes, they are very similar to people, so much. But not to the people of third millennium – no, to the Higher people. Pure and as though radiating light faces. As though? Surprisingly, but he has been already starting to feel these rays – ones of which science of their age just guessed and was constructing shy assumptions – beams of human essence, as he would call them. Here these rays were bright and curative – and he, being in this worlds, has started sensating them. What sort of transformation has occurred to him that he has begun feeling them without all unnecessary mechanics, but with all his being instead? Probably, he will even learn this in due time …

His last doubts dissipated – they were washed away as useless ashes when he was beholding this “city” and its inhabitants. This was the world of Higher Beings – Enlightened ones. Yes, people indeed – he had no more doubts in that. A great number of them were standing on the flower square and looking at him, coming nearer. There were smiles on their faces, eyes emitted same rays – were shining with light. “Eyes is a window to the soul”, - somewhere from depth of consciousness came these words. And, apparently, there is so much more hidden in these words, that he at first suspected…

All right, it’s time to land. Ten … five meters to the ground.

“We welcome you, brother”, - strong, ringing and courageous voice sounded in his consciousness. It seems that usual human language was not necessary to these people at all. Here someone from their ranks went forward – probable, the leader. Turned to people standing behind … rose his hand highly, probably calling for silence … then again turned to face him.

“Once again hello to you, space wanderer”, - this time it was common human language. Not a mental addressing – but a living word from lips instead!

And once again come the words – powerful and brave words, full of unshakable confidence and force – the speaking one was inborn leader in the true sense of the word – “From where have you arrived, traveler?” He answered.

People briskly started to exchange words from behind – talking in native language of the tongue. However he couldn’t understand even a single phrase from their speech. The leader rose his hand once more, asking for silence – and everything has abated.

“My colleagues are both surprised and pleased. We have not met the one like you before. And your … equipment looks rather … strange. I cannot remember that somewhere in the worlds of the Great Unity of Planets it’s being either created or used. Especially on … the Earth. Therefore we desire to ask you a question, traveler – where are you from? I have no wish to interfere into your thoughts and memory, even though I could do that. It will be the violation of laws of the Universe – that’s why I shall ask you a question, traveler. Answer truthfully – we will not cause you any harm – last millennia of the wars of our ancestors has taught us much – answer as it is – the lie will give you out – who are you and from where have you arrived to our world?”

Attentive and kind look. The views of people facing it intrigued and full of interest. To tell? Yes – so it will have a chance to come back home … With those possibilities which people of this time possessed, they for certain should have a means of travel in intertime! Only certainly, at first he nevertheless will be late here and will try to learn more about people that live in this surprising world.

“Year two thousand two hundred seventy fifth. Travelled in time by the order of the United Galactic Council. Collapsers of time. Carried out a mission of collecting of resources and information in distant worlds”.

Accurately, like on a military report, sounded words.

He had nothing to hide. His words abated in the instantly reigned silence. Second, two, three… Painful silence was becoming longer and longer. Even the leader, it seems, was surprised by such a turn of events. But – only for an instant. He was certainly get used to the most unexpected circumstances and turns.

“Now everything is clear, Robert. You have answered fully truthfully. Indeed, our far ancestors once were engaged into similar experiments with time waves … but they missed the main thing – the possibilities of spirit, ones given to a human, inborn in his very nature. Earth scientists of the third millennium tried to replace the Higher human nature with some pity mechanics. Certainly almost fruitless. Yes, you are still unaware of one more thing … but I will tell you nevertheless – those collapsers of which you are talking – they didn’t work at all the way it was supposed during their creation. A travel into the past with a seconds fidelity, huh? So they have praised you this invention in the Intergalactic Council? Well – there was no talks of seconds, minutes, hours or even years. Hundreds, and maybe thousands of years – such was the accuracy of these “devices”.

Plus instability in work … time jumps into the future were not predicted, and jumps from the past into the “now” time should occur without hassles. Both the first and the second turned out to be a myth in reality. Hundreds and thousands of travelers who have “got stuck” in the past … several hundreds more who have gone into the future for uncertain number of centuries. Yes, yes, be not surprised – you were not the only one. There were others colleagues by “misfortune”. One such as you arrived in our world about three hundred years ago. Some of my brothers have not met him when he arrived and left our world – our terrestrial life is still limited to a certain timeframe – that’s why that have been so amazed, having seen you. Now they know the truth. How have I already told them this information and where have I learned your name? Wait, wait, oh curious one! You will know everything in due time. You will have plenty of it. Enough of it. Who are these enemies that have assaulted you in the jungles? Genetic weapon of our ancestors, created for waging of wars. We are clearing the planet, but it’s a lengthy process. We cannot simply destroy life – we have to transform it. Follow me now – I invite you into our world – one in a myriads of others in the Universe. Follow me. You will be our guest here, Robert”.

 * * *

He learned everything. No, not everything – but yet a lot. What he desired to know. What he was ready to learn and accept – there was no secrets here for him.

Ninth millennium. Colonized and transformed world of the Universe. Ones that have united into the Alliance of Planets. Peace and prosperity. Reduced to necessary minimum industry. Underground production. Ideal technologies of recycling. Human creativity, yielding fruits of beauty.

But all this was on the surface. And deep inside there were people – no, People, - who have reached high heights of spirit. Ones not requiring ridiculous mechanical devices. Ones who have developed their inborn, their higher potential. Capable to treat spiritually and clearly see the essence of a man. To read mind and predict the future. People bringing good. People – brothers and sisters of the uniform world. United with the world High Beings. Ones who have grown to be them in course of their spiritual work. For several thousands of years there were not a single war conflict in any of the star system of the Alliance of Planets – they were simply unnecessary. They have died out like a remnant of a decay, egoism and callousness, like a remain of animalistic rage. Wars were no more - violence was no more – there was one united prospering Universe. Great Alliance of Planets.

Not immediately did he learn all of this. He has spent many days on this planet. Many years. He didn’t throw aside his dream of returning back home – sometimes in evenings his heart was washed by light grief memories of his home world chafed his mind. However this world became a new home for him as well – like each and every planet in the Universe.

He will be able to return back home the time he finishes his spiritual growth here. Will be able to travel in time with no mechanics, but forces of spirit instead. But he has to pass a long way for that, lots of steps. 

He believed that this day will come once. And thus he worked.

02.05.2012




It came finally !


Greetings, well-respected soul-thinking chikatels and tsykatels ! Sorry, readers and page-swingers.  Recently a set of letters has been coming to editorial office of our newspaper with a request of repeated publication of presented several months ago article that goes under the header “It came finally !” Due to the importance of mentioned subject and high level of urgency of this article to our society, we decided to comply with this kind request of our paper-consumers. And so we are proudly presenting you the original version of article which has left our publishing house under aforementioned heading on 14.04.2013.

P.S.  We hope greatly that the feeling of kind irony won’t abandon our readers (as well as the persons, mentioned in the article) in the process of reading of this note, once again being published by us.

“It  came finally !”

“Petersburg Movable Bridge” publishing house

14.04.2013

One of these days in Moscow in the Cathedral of the Redeemer both surprising and tragic at the same time events took their place. A group of unknown males, dressed in caftans, padded jackets, valenoks and caps with ear-flaps, despite obvious discrepancy of similar regimentals to the current weather conditions, without any given permission or payment of tax for entrance to sacred orthodox temples, having pushed local old women-moneylender prior of the temple in a most shameless way, broke into the most sacred place of our not rubber capital – to temple’s altar. As it should be well-known to our respected readers, this altar was officially declared as sacred literally a few days ago before the events in place when the Holy Patriarch of All Russia performed in the presence of the president of our  country before it the anthem “God bless the tzar !”. After which specified group of unstated persons without any proper constraint and with a great enthusiasm sang a song “Oh, frost, my frost !”. Let’s note that according to the data of meteorologists, air temperature outside of the building was about thirty degrees above zero at the moment of their performance.

At present time identikits of the criminals are being prepared and designed by law-burying enforcement bodies, however all such actions are at a loss due to a great resemblance between produced images and ugly faces of average tipsy Russian men exactly on New Year’ Eve.

However, if only it all was limited to a singing of similar obscene songs, for truly believing citizens of our country it would be still half-troubles. The real trouble is that criminals not only sang unstated by the law frankly blasphemous song, they also dared to laugh in the most impudent, shameless and frankly free way !

As it should be well-known to our dear readers, in connection with the official resolution of the Patriarch from 21.12.2012, it was strictly forbidden to either smile or to laugh for all truly (and more importantly – for devoutly) believing orthodox Christians, and upon entering the temple they should, we quote, - “to have a face mournful and oppressed, head down lowered, eyes inexpressive, lips with teeth snacked and money in pockets lots of”, and violation of this behavior was officially equated to blasphemy which, in connection with recently introduced in the Criminal Code amendments, was equated to especially serious crimes against consciencemenfaithhonor (in one word from a small letter) and Sacred Orthodox Church.

The scandal which has burst in connection with incident continues to grow. Practicing psychiatrists, self-educated linguists and political scientists have already started speaking about the process of serious dividing of society on a taste and color basis.

A number of cultural figures already expressed their support to newbie singers in their collective letter, having thus received a brand of figures-of-the-lack-of-culture from a number of political parties of nationalist nature. “We are driven only by compassion and love to representatives of our people, and thus we freely accept their right to put on padded jackets and valenoks, as well as to sing the unpopular song. Jesus told us of love and amnesty, including to those who dresses not like we do, sings different songs and feels the world another way. People without love are no more than bags with bones”, - like that commented on the situation one of unnamed signers of the letter. The signer, however, didn’t specify, whether all signers are being driven by similar motives, or the honest and best of their kind.

However, there is not a single sign of complete unanimity concerning the event among representatives of culture and art. So, a number of singers already managed to condemn anonymous choristers and spitted tastefully in their direction.

“I AM NO CHRIST AND WILL NOT FORGIVE ALL AND EVERYTHING!!!! THEY MUST ALL HAVE GONE NUTS!! A SHAME IF THEY WOULD SING MY SONG IGNORAMUSES ((( PUT THEM ALL ON STAKE AND BURN!!!!” – like that raged the queen of Russian chanson in her personal blog.

The prima donna of the Russian platform was more careful in her expression : “Dull yokels simply decided to promote themselves ! They are probably thinking of taking over my place. No way ! I have kicked with feet down from my platform even better ones. And to smile and laugh is a top of cynicism during our hard times. A fiddle while Rome burns. They better dig a ditch in front of our castle instead of doing nonsense. All of them are simply lousy clownery !”

Her old acquaintance expressed himself slightly more categorically : “I dunno want to be integgorated about these devilish bitches! I am irritated by their pink jackets, their boobs and your microphone!”. On a fair remark that performers of a song were males, the singer confusedly replied that he was probably confused by some demon, and hastened to retire from under the gazes of television cameras.

“I have been always telling you that Russian are a genetic rabble and cattle ! They dream only of getting drunk and sing something pathos. Stupid ones, to be short, - not the way I am ! No way for mink revolutions together with such morons !”, - well-known TV soul-killer expressed herself exactly that way.

Don’t lag behind the Russian colleagues are foreign singers, whom, most likely, similar “performance” cut to the quick. So, Madonna of the American platform was persistently interested, whether are those singers accused of all moral sins are representatives of LGBT community, and was extremely disappointed by the answer that they are normal Russian men, and “not like the ones in these solar Californias of yours”, and short time after together with the mayor of Berlin she made the official statement, that “unfortunately, Russian social public haven’t yet grown to high standards of the western democracy and doesn’t possess required level of tolerance”.

Truly believing Christians, marking their presence here and there in comments to articles, concerning anonymous group, also continuing throwing chestnuts in a fire.

“I, as the Russian orthodox Christian, consider that these obscurantists should be cut by whips with iron thorns on the central square. And it must be done in the face of their children so that they learn to live correctly ! After all, truly believing Christians will fairly hammer them to the death at a first opportunity nevertheless ! And that’s right ! Let everyone know the power of true belief ! For the Patriarch and Russian Orthodox Church ! “, – writes one of them.

Representatives of political parties keep adding fuel to the fire as well.

So, with a rigid criticism of anonymous group acted representatives of nationalist parties “New Great Stalin” and “Stalin is everything ours”. “This is a spit in soul, in belief of our people. It’s a blasting of foundations of our statehood. These are intrigues of our Anglo-Saxon foes. Their future fate must be decided by our most fair and humane court, and no cultural figures have the right to interfere with that process”, - so the leader of the first party commented on the situation. “They all should get a second Stalin !”, - declared the leader of the second one.

The leader of Communist party declared literally the following : “We understand the degree of gravity of the question, brought to us in the song, for exactly in winter time the well-known February revolution was carried out, and exactly April theses were created by our eternally live leader. But at the same time we consider such behavior of these men inadmissible for party due to ethical reasons. Look at our leader – there is no smile on his face. He sleeps peacefully, awaiting the coming of great future events, disturbs nobody and isn’t being eyesore for people at all,  and at the same time quietly and silently welcomes and accepts everyone coming to him. We consider similar behavior of our leader to be a fine example for both our party, and all our supporters as well”.

The well-known leader of other party expressed on considerably more increased tones : “Swine ! Bastards ! Nits ! Let’s they eat shit ! Bears in our circuses behave better than they do ! A shame for the whole world ! Unfinished morons ! I would tear them out, like my donkey ! Bastards !”

Representatives of the party “Wrong deed” declared that at the present moment similar questions interest them “not so much”, as they still can’t decide a question of who will be their new leader after they expelled the old (young) oligarch in all four directions during last inner-party intrigues.

Representatives of the ruling party refused to comment on the situation.

The search for malefactors is still going on.

Society is divided. Politicians battle with each other. Militant Christians demand bread and shows. Network hamsters keep buying popcorn. Cultural figures shamelessly find fault with all and everything, fighting for a proper place under a golden calf. As they say, everything is quite in the Moscow-city …

18.09.2012




Last word


-    So do you insist that the feeling of sincere patriotism in relation to the native land is not only negative, but is also fatal, harmful trait of the human person ?

-    Your so-called “patriotism” is your curse. These are your chains – threads, through which you are very convenient to be operated by someone another. Because of this “feeling of sincere patriotism” wars have been waged on the Earth and some of them are still going on, because of it you sacrifice things, much more important … much greater, than the goals of your politicians. It’s not even patriotism, it’s plain and total blindness. People keep dying and you sing in joy – for it promotes achievements of the aims of your state, most certainly great and all, and all, and all.

Are these truly your purposes ? Do you really want to slaughter each other ? Maybe those ones, whom you innocently kill, want it to ? Whose goals are these ? Yours ? Or injected into your consciences’s by the political top, injected very skillfully, by the way … even sweetened a bit for greater persuasiveness ?  You have already faced terrorism in own lives and have come through it. But when you are ready for either natural resources or land territories to wage terrorism in a much greater scale for “peaceful” purposes, as you are trying to believe, - is it not even greater and obvious crime against the humanity ? And what is most stunning – is that you do not consider such actions as any crime, for it’s the goodness of your own country, your nation … and you as a part of it.

You have been transformed into puppets in hands of your politicians, you became their ideological slaves. You even cannot say “no” when it’s truly needed, when the time demands it – and that’s the problem. You are being sent on a slaughter – and you willingly go on a slaughter. You are being sent into a battle for a next piece of resources – and you are ready to die for the glory of your motherland … ready to die for nothing.

You are not even free – you have never been free. You only dream of it, sing about it, speak among each other about it – but you are never free. And when the time comes for you to say “no” – you are saying “yes” instead …

That’s the problem, the greatest problem of mankind history – that the man is too suggestible, too controllable, for he is too weak to be his own master. The problem is that there are always those who can readily take advantage of it and use it for their own sake. And it will always be so – just until you become the masters of your own life.

Remember it – remember that well. Your future depends on it.

* * *

Spacious apartments. A heavy oak table near a wall sideways from a window … the working ancient wall clocks which are beating out their mysterious rhythm … an icon of the Savior in a gilt frame on one of the walls … and more, and more, and more …

Bom … bom … bom … - clocks beat slowly and methodically. And once again – bom … bom … bom …

-    Mister President, we suspect that you should familiarize yourself with these materials. It’s important for the stability of our power.

-    Show it then.

A soft flash – and the video display starts working. Lines and words, words and discussions, discussions and thoughts. After only fifteen minutes the demonstration of “materials” comes to an end. Ten seconds of silence …

-    What sort of clown is that ? Yet one more fighter for freedom and all. I’m stuffed up with that nonsense. Remove him.

Five seconds of silence …

-    Are you sure, mister President ?

-    Just remove him. And … well … take care of his family, of course. Do not refuse them in indemnification for his “accidental” death. And don’t let ones like him into our channels – or you can forget about your jobs. That is my last word. Is everything clear ? Nice. So  - what’s the next thing on our today’s agenda ?

Heavy oak table near a wall sideways from a window … an icon of Savior in a gilt frame … ancient wall clocks, beating out some mysterious rhythm …

Bom … bom … bom …

And once again – bom … bom … bom…




21.10.2010




Lesson of war


A roar of ranks of iron-armored monsters. A whistle, scratch and gnash, tearing air apart. Agonal screams of people - men-derelicts. Ones, who made themselves as such with own hands. Explosions, roaring in a far distance. Bearing death iron, cutting air apart. A crunch of human flesh under wheels of tanks, who are plowing this field of death and regret. Rage and hatred. Agony and horror. Pain and destruction …

This war has finally been waged - despite all efforts of the Congress of Post-Nuclear Security. Despite appeals to both heart and reason, despite possible obvious consequences of war, maybe even more destructive than the Last War of Grief itself. What a strange voice did those politicians hear when they have finally made a decision to begin military operations? A voice of thirst of money and power? A voice of their lowest nature, which has not been overcome still? 

Silence … And once again - an air, being sliced with a gnash of tanks.

Whistle of a shell. A cloud of gray-green gas, which filled out a place of its falling and quickly began spreading around. Five hundred meters. Too close. The plague is spreading, thankfully, not too fast, so he still has a change to get out of here. If only by running. Yes, running.

A lethal weapon, which was put on his back. Mobilized possibilities of a tessa-suit, granting him the ability not to lose any superfluous drop of invaluable water and protecting from radiation waves in this field of sand and metal. Optical, infra-red and lots of other sensors, with which his current “survival suit” has been literally larded, have been turned on and are functioning - working to warn of the danger, created by the very same people.

A fast-fast running. A growing gray-green cloud behind the back …

Poison. A dreadful plague, invented by scientific minds - ones, who have received loads of money while working on this project. Just several seconds of this gas’s inhalation - and man's genotype will be transformed beyond recognition. Actually, since the time one, who had true misfortune to be there, where this ordinary-looking pig with bones and a skull, engraved on it like flags of ancient pirates, has fallen, ceased to be a man any more. A live rotting, gradually leaving only a strong calcium skeleton, awakened instincts of beast, forcing a victim to transform to not even just an animal, but much worse - into a monster, feasting on corpses … finishing off wounded men for the sake of own livelihood …

Terrible fate. It's so much better to die from a bullet of some soldier, than to become a victim of this weapon - a weapon, invented by humans themselves. 

An even better option is, well, not to die at present - no, not to continue this madness. Not to keep killing and to be, certainly, sometime be killed, but to work and live a peaceful life instead … to even be that very plowman, or a teacher, a writer, a musician, or … damn dreams! Is he allowed now to practice all these human gifts and possibilities? Or can his enemy do the very same? What else can they do except for to throw up on a shoulder this UPEPD - universal plasma-generator of expanded capabilities of destruction, able to burn to death crowds of enemies even in newest metta-survival suits - and time and again to go to fight.

Hopeless fight. Cruel battle. Terrible war of destruction and murder for nothing. A battle where no winners ever exist, only those who have lost - who have already lost, when the possibility of this fight became true. This ruthless war …

This war will probably become even more terrible than that well-known War of Grief, memory of which still remained only on shabby pages of old books and has been living in human hearts - a war, which has taken away ninety nine percent of planet's population and turned a planet into a deserted landscape, only instead of sand - a burned products of nuclear synthesis. A war, after which few survivals needed three more thousand years to alter the planet and make it habitable once again, so that they can at last start living and stop surviving. And to be precise and state the truth, when mankind's history has been erased and started to be written from a new page, one, that even after three more thousands years couldn't be deleted and forgotten, having left a mournful and painful hem in a memory … a page, on which several large, stamping and ruthless letters were imprinted - «Atomic war». 

Atomic warfare … a weapon of their ancestors, which have destroyed life on a planet … a mad invention of human scientists. A horror, released into their world.

A nuclear bomb. He spoke this word and tried to feel its taste - dead cold inhuman one … a terrible word. A word that frightened him in own childhood when parents had said so, one that made him shiver, being founded in ancient manuscripts of former men, still preserved by some sort of miracle after past events. How is that ever possible, that is has been created? Why? What for? What's the reason? And to be used as well …

Much like this very gas is being used now, leaving a circle of death through many miles around. And this was just one of the tools of murder along with a set of others, beginning from bullets, filled with explosive materials and finishing with “stakkers” - bombs with weight of up to several hundred tons, that were actively used for suppression of “areas of active enemy resistance”, leaving only a burning territory with no signs of life after droppings …

Total madness. Madness of war. Madness of those, started the war. A witness of what other horrors will he become for the duration of war? And is there is a slimmest chance for it to stop? When will it come to an end - when all life and lifeless forces of enemy … enemies are destroyed? When all remnants of life, which are still remaining, will finally be totally deformed? When?

But this must come to an end at last! Madness should be ended.

A shell, scratched the armoring of his suite - series of rifle's bullets, which have left hems on his “survival suit”. A soldier of the enemy, who jumped from round a corner all of a sudden. A soldier of the enemy … another madness. No, they are not enemies, they shouldn't be as such! Why enemies, why foes, why are they compelled to kill each other?

Why now he must sharply move towards the incoming shots with a perfected grace … prepare his gun for a strike … wait for this damned and dreadful mechanics to make an approval signal … smoothly press a trigger cock … observe, how a face on his enemy changes from a wild grin to a human shape for an instant, and how he heavily falls to the ground, without even a last single sound. He used to be a man once … now, in this war - whether he has been him still? And whether is he still a man? Robots, brought and trained for murders, are men in this war have become exactly them?

Drops of water, transferred to him by that iron-plastic armor, which he was compelled to dress -he'll definitely need those few drops. A long run awaits him - a run for tens and thousands of kilometers, a run away from his native city, which has been raised by enemies,  a city in which he was born and has been living … till the recent events.

A run through the fields of grief. A very long one …

* * *

Drop of sweat, showed on a face. Sharp and faltering breath.

He woke up, yet horrific images were still trying to pursue him. Terrible pictures of war - pictures of terrible war. Dreadful pictures, for any war brings with itself fear and pain, grief and regret.

He began to gradually come to his senses. Sighted deeply and exhaled. Sighted once more and exhaled again - breath was normalizing. He was coming to senses, yet the memory of horrors didn’t desire to leave. Maybe he should remember - remember the consequences of war, realize them? As each and every man has to realize them - so that wars can be no more? So that a peace with a capital letter can reign in a world - a world of kind and open human hearts, full of wisdom and understanding, filled with love and beauty? Yes, war has no right to exist - as well as death and destruction, bitterness of losses and hatred to artificially made enemies, brought by it.

Let there be peace - a peace throughout the entire world, no matter how banal it does sound. Even if it sounds banal - it’s still a worthy direction and aspiration, and a work of each man over himself will give birth to essential steps - essential steps in this way. A way of peace.




13.04.2011




Liar


Liar.

Nay, nay, that’s not you for certain. After all, you have never lied to anybody in your life, right? Well, at least a little. However, this was almost millennia ago, and, besides …

Your parents simply forced you to deceive them, for they were too severe and strict at times, too unwilling to understand - and thus you lied to them to avoid a next scolding. You sincerely believed that adults are all reasonable and fair, and you should stand up to them considering a sample for imitation for yourself, so young by that time. What a great disappointment awaited you! Since the time you have become a witness of how adults, surrounding you and - even! - your own parents have been continuously lying each other in things big and small, you have ceased to consider it as something terribly vile. Has reconciled and accepted this as a sort of a reality, given to you through sensations. Indeed, people tend to be deceived by others for they are inclined to deceive them. Well, this use to happen.

Then you had to lie to contemporaries at school of the status of your parents - otherwise series of punches and clips were waiting for you because of that individuality of yours, unduly greatly sticking out from a crowd. What a joy is that your schoolmates couldn’t check out your words and thus your deceit worked well! And as for you … after all you simply tried to protect yourself from that false world, huh? In due time you have come to a conclusion that it’s far better and easier to go down the stream instead …

And then you have fallen in love with a girl. Truly, sincerely, with your entire wounded soul. You thirsted so greatly to be loved in return! To receive even a droplet of warm attitude, a particle of sympathy, a handful of understanding … She deceived you for the reason that you have deceived her - you didn’t desire to destroy previously formed myth of your origins, and she had no wish of you being aware that you are not the first one in her life … and not the last one by far. During that very moment you felt so deeply all the nasty meaning and essence of people lying to each other … You desired to restore your relations and build them up anew, to become another man - a true, original one, instead of that invented fake individuality - yet you had no more powers to refuse your fake image. You wanted so greatly to cease lying to yourself, but …

But you had to lie once again. To deceive people and be deceived in people yourself.

You manipulated their feelings and opinions in order to get a desired and favorable to you result. You juggled with the facts and pitted men with each other, humbly remaining in a shadow, only to come out from it as illusionary winner afterwards. You made promises and never fulfilled them. You swore time and again - yet all this became simply a next useless phrase, thrown into the air. You knew how greatly people thirst inside to believe that a flattery, wasted by you, is the way you originally feel - and you willingly used this weakness of theirs to own advantage. You have created a grandiose myth of yourself - an image that was capable to outlive even you, because it required his last owner no more and became his own master instead. So, gradually and methodically, you have become a hostage of own lies, and there were no more ways for a retreat. Or, to tell the truth … they have become too difficult for you. As if there is something more pernicious than lying to yourself …

A liar?

Nay, no way, that cannot be you. You have never lied to yourself about yourself, right you are? But in a world where everyone lies to everyone in things big and small it’s so hard not to become a victim of self-deception. Yet even the grandiose of lies once began with small deceptions, right … self-deceiver?

And what can be more deadly that lying to yourself?

16.08.2011




Majority


Step. And again. And again. In such minutes every moment becomes the eternity.

Ten steps to scaffold top. Nine. Eight. Seven.

Yes, he is both the criminal and the traitor. Yes, he would repeat the same again.

Where does the moment ends and the eternity begins ? Six. Five. Four.

Where does life of one ends, so that others can live on ? Three.

No one can escape its destiny and hide from it, nowhere. Two.

And in the moment of own death it’s only possible to accept it with gratitude. One.

To die and to live in the eternity. The top.

He is a traitor for one, and a hero for another. And there are no intermediate stages. How much does a human’s life cost and who will dare to measure it ? Who will judge of the unknown destiny of which he has not a slightest idea ? Who will extol you as the hero and overthrow in a chasm of damnations later ? Who will make this all only because he can do no other ?

The Majority.

Yes, he is the murderer – and the savior simultaneously. Angel and a demon in one person.

The life of one for lifes of many. And no other choice is possible here.

And that is why he is the criminal.

The life of the president of home country, who has almost plunged the world into a nuclear apocalypse – it’s not  that much for the world to live on.

And that is why he is the hero.

The former faithful companion and the right hand, who once realized what the left hand is going to make. The one chosen the most radical way to stop the ongoing madness – for no other measures were capable to help.

And that is why he is the traitor.

The killers of killers – angels of punishment ? Executioners of executioners? Criminals? No one will give him the right answer.

The military court – and the simple majority of votes deciding his destiny. Forty nine against fifty one.

And that is why he dies today. The Majority decided so.

Life and death … death and life. And there are no intermediate stages.

But not for the Majority.

The Top.

Here they are – below and before him. All the Consulat. One hundred of human judges. Criminals and heroes. Killers of killers. Surprisingly small and ridiculous from this Top.

Does the life end to give a way to the Eternity or death is simply her continuation ? The moment has finally come to learn this.

A rope around a neck – not the most honorable of deaths. But heroes have no right to choose – as well as killers.

The sun blinding the eye … above, above … so small from this top …

A blow – and soil leaves from under feet. Let it be so. So the Majority decided. A flash of light before dimming eyes. Only an instant.

Just a single instant.

And – the Eternity.




28.09.2010




Mass-media !


MASS-MEDIA!

And that’s - almost an order. Almost a command not subject for disobeying, which internal muck becomes obvious only after the N-th telecast.

Mass-media! - is an order to cease thinking, stop trying to comprehend vital life transformations, occurring around you. An order to live some other’s life, burning invaluable moments of time in a fire chamber of senseless and ruthless monologues with a screen of your unsurpassed TV. Unsurpassed in the art of fooling the soul of human.

Mass-media! - and here you are, sitting on a sofa after a next, certainly, heavy working day, incorporating all those fetid streams of information, which media “gods” have decided to present you this time as a sort of universal spiritual breakfast, dinner and supper. Where would you be nowadays without their immense generosity, what would you know, of what could you have a talk with your fellow workers?

Mass-media! - and here you are living in a state of constant fear. Fear to go out of doors when there are so many gangsters, murders and rage swirling around. Fear to give birth to children, because - well, certainly! - you would prefer to “enjoy life to the full”, and new foreign car stands in the list of your priorities so above your own son. Fear to truly love someone, having no dread of the possible lawsuits. Fear to assist another because “by the good affairs …”, and present earth law doesn’t encourage initiative. Fear to oppose tyranny of the chief, because if you dare to delay a payment under the credit at least once during nearest decades - you can cease to remain even the conditional proprietor of the apartment in a mortgage that you have taken because “habitation is a profitable business”, and due to extreme human greed can only rise in prices. Fear to become the one not favorable and fashionable, fear to return to you bright, original and pure. Mass-media! - and the next saving stressful injection has already started spreading in your organism…

Mass-media! - truly, that’s so pleasant - to relax in front of your TV’s screen, having forgotten of a huge bag of stones of your nonsenses, which you have been dragging for all day long on a back, feeling no desire to get rid of, for something greater than feeding from these medias is required for that purpose? It gives your torments a short time-break - to see how someone another is suffering even more. Nice spiritual antibiotic, yeah? Mass-media! - is practically a diagnosis.

Mass-media! - and here you are climbing a fake Olympus, which has conveniently sunk in a swamp, in a hope to be shown in other same boxes. For some unknown reason it seems to you as a greatly significant and important moment of your life - probably to have yet another topic for yet next chit-chat with your fellow workers? Are you completely sure in your desire to get into a crate ahead of time - and in which one, exactly? Mass-media! - a perfect tool to create heroes from mediocrities and to mediate heroes.

Mass-media! - the more, the better, yes? So that you will totally lack time to think of something really significant, to make something truly valuable… Perhaps, a convenient justification of own unwillingness to look widely and deeply? Socially legalized possibility to remain informational consumer, without doing a single step for own creativity. Mass-media! - it’s a drug. A way of rejecting yourself. A way to flee from a reality, which you are too lazy to alter.

Mass-media know what they are doing. Do you?

28.02.2012




Mess


- Pssss … come over here! - a voice came out of bushes.

- Stand where you are no matter whoever you are! - Ivan almost jumped up from surprise, having somehow inexplicable managed to rotate him in the jump for two hundred sixty seven and half degrees in direction to a source of potential danger.

- And what should the flying ones do - stop right where they are flying? - a reasonable question came out of bushes once again.

- Whoever is here, show yourself! - a hero, for many yet unknown, and for us already named, continued making his proposition.

- Hey, stop being afraid of me already! - someone hiding in bushes soothingly noticed. - Look, you’ve stopped on your way, but what’s a big deal? You have been wandering through this local forest aimlessly nevertheless. And here you’ve got a nice chance to chit-chat with somebody heart-to-heart … with me, for instance.

- And where might you be, I wonder? - a brave one, who have already recovered from a first shock, wasn’t appeased in the curiosity. - You may turn out to be a terrible and horrific monster, trapping lonely travelers on their way to people, you know?

- Oh, pardon me, what’s the point for me to be nasty! - a sniff came somewhere sideways this time. - Who will covet us in this case? Besides, we are not awful, but peaceful and truly democratic, to say so. We bring happiness, struggle for human rights. A freedom of choice, relations, conscience. And so on, and so forth.

- So, you are a female?  A representative, of so to say, fair sex? - Ivan was taken aback.

- Well, fair for someone, and nasty for another. It all depends here on the level of reason, as they say.

- From what? - Ivan didn’t understand.

- Well … it’s such a thing - level. And the reason - what’s the reason? Simply a profanation! - a giggling came out of the next tree. - Where were you going here, I wonder?

- On affairs! - Ivan muttered. - I am not going to tell strangers everything, especially having not seen them eye to an eye. Maybe, they don’t even possess the eyes?

- Maybe they don’t … - a reasonable notice doubled itself. - And, maybe, ones such as me don’t even require it.

- Hey, you, eyeless monster! I am gonna fire at you an arrow from my bow, and where it will strike e - either to an eye, or some other body spot - is a minor matter! - barked Ivan and got behind bow and arrows.

- Well, you are not some sort of cupid to stick all passers-by with arrows of love, are you? And besides … what if it turns out that I am that wonderful frog-princess, whom you are required to kiss to further live on together with her in a happiness and consent till death itself won’t separate you? Wouldn’t you really want to try it out, m-m-m-m? - the voice of female stranger was getting more and more tender and viscous.

- All right, - Ivan finally agreed. - I will always have the time to make a frog for needles from you, - he summarized. - But you must be leaving your bushes hideout strictly one by one, and keep in mind - I am holding you on sight!

- Oh, just look at what courageous and brave companion I have found! I am almost burning whole from desire! - stranger girl sang with pleasure and, finally, left her bush-like hiding place.

- A-a-a … o-o-o … u-u-u-u … e-r-r-r … you are such … - mumbled Ivan.

- Beautiful, huh? It has been so since my very birth.

- That’s not the word …

- And what sort of word would it be, m-m-m? - mysterious acquaintance continued smiling, gracefully pacing before Ivan.

- Mine - that’s the word!

- Well … maybe yours as well. There is time for everything … By the way, my name is Mess.

- Mess? What a beautiful name! - Ivan exclaimed. - Ivan! - he presented himself.

- And to you, Ivan! - Mess smiled.

- What do you mean “and to you”? - he misunderstood.

- And to you I am pleasant as well, as I see.

 - Yes … you are all such … sparkling … such … unusual … thing … many, probably, don’t even possess such ones …

- Yes, yes, - Mess tenderly agreed. - I know. That’s me. And you were going to shoot me at first, my rascal! - she threatened calmly.

- Well, I had no idea that you were such… unusual. I have thought that you are probably some sort of marsh witch that will enchant me and then drag off into her den.

- Well, what’s the point for me to enchant you? All in all soon you will come running for me yourself … darling, - Mess continued singing sweetly, beating about the bush round Ivan. - Where will you, people, go without us, Messies, - what do you cost without us, oh consumers of ours? - she made a purring sound slightly more silently.

- And can I … touch you? - Ivan offered bashfully.

- Yes, you can, touch me if you dare… - Mess allowed. - You can even take me on hands …

- So soon? - Ivan was shocked. - And shouldn’t we before that …?

- And what should we wait for? - Mess questioned. - I do clearly see that you desire to have me … so take me, have no hesitation. The more you will desire me, the more a person from a small letter you will keep becoming …

- Perhaps, a person from a capital letter? - Ivan was confused.

- Well, no way! - Mess sniffed. - To be a one from a capital letter you have to deserve it first. We, Messies, are not made to make you as such. We are for different sort of whims, - she added.

- And is that not … dangerous? - Ivan carefully asked, slightly touching Mess’s body.

- Well … maybe you’ll get stricken with a lightning the first time, - Mess smiled. - And afterwards … however, what the reason for you, people, in that “afterwards”? You have to enjoy life to the full, not even seriously reflecting on consequences, right? To gather in hands as many as possible ones such as me, Mess. Especially if they are going to you on bails … And besides, to possess lots of beautiful Messies today is sort of a style and fashion!

- Well … I don’t know … something here is … somehow … - Ivan breathed heavily and started to doubt, having drawn his hand away from Mess.

- What, have you got struck with electricity? - Mess purred. - After you get the first charge, it will be easier from that on. I am going to call my girlfriends afterwards to make you a company. You will caress, care and cherish them more than humans for your entire life, and look, the life has already passed. I have thought up a fine plan, right? - said Mess and nestled on Ivan with all her body.

- Well … I … this … that … you know …

- Do you want me to call for my girlfriend? - said Mess without unhooking her hands from Ivan’s neck.

- What sort of girlfriend? What for?

- Oh, you will see that soon enough! - Mess replied. Thi-thi-thi, here you must be! - she started singing, and right there somewhere from bushes a second not less mysterious lass came out, being, probably, even more dazzling and shining that Mess herself.

- Thingy! - the girlfriend of Mess presented herself. - Girlfriend of Mess.

- What the reason do we need her? - Ivan frowned.

- Oh, darling, how don’t you understand?! Don’t you know that every modern glamour star-aspiring man must always have his personal thingy, which would blind each and every one on all creative parties with her relaxedness and spontaneity!

- And how’s that? - Ivan didn’t get it.

- Oh, like that! - said Thingy and, having undressed herself in one instant, settled on the ground in painful expectation of unhealthy man’s attention. - Photograph me! - she ordered-asked.

- What sort of fine Thingy you’ve got, Ivashka! - Mess giggled. - A Thingy above all the things. With such a one it’s not a shame to enter a high society!

- How creative I have thought it up, yes? - Thingy laughed, putting on her clothes after a short-term posing in public.

- Oh, you are such an ingenious one, my friend! You alone will suffice to enchant lots of Ivans!

- Legion is their name! - Thingy joyfully exclaimed.

- And not a consumer less, - Mess winked. - Well, should we be going to people right now?

- Let’s go! - Thingy agreed. - But first let me kiss you fellow as well, so that further on he can think of no one else, but us only. - Ch-m-m-m-o-o-o-k-k!

* * *

- Ch-p-o-k! - said an icicle that has fallen from a roof. - S-s-s-s-dzin! - she added, having scattered in one thousand small splinters. - Ch-m-m-m-o-o-k! - a second one echoed in response before accepting the same sad fate.

- Ivan, stop kissing a pillow already, rise up and help me! - a female voice ringed in apartment’s corridor.

- What a terrible thing I’ve dreamed of! - Ivan thought. - For how long have I slept? - and he decided to say this last thought of his aloud in a faint hope that somewhere there, in a corridor, somebody will finally give a response to his question of metaphysical importance.

- You have almost overslept our joint trip to a supermarket, dear husband! - a response came from over there. - And after all  we have agreed even yesterday that you are going to buy me a pair of dresses on my choice and a heap of other different baubles and thingies.

- Is that some sort of morning thing? - Ivan was stunned. - What a nasty thing! It’s necessary to give up with this infinite shopping! - he resolutely came to a resolution.

- And where is that are you going? - a husband’s wife interrogatively stared on him, getting on a coat over a pajama.

- Into the bank! - Ivan reported. - Giving my credit card over a bails. It’s that sort of their new service, “get out of consumer credit servitude”, you know. A thing of all the thingies!




15.03.2012




Mutants of our age


Present list, entitled as “Mutants of our century”, represents itself a result of long-term researches by geneticists of our society of tendencies of susceptibility of separate individuals and their groups for recently amplifying various soul-genetically mutations, as well as characteristics of these types of mutations as they are.

We do not apply for absolute accuracy and completeness of presented material for a simple reason that it’s extremely difficult to describe thoroughly entire aspect of alteration of psycho-world-outlook component of mutating individuals, as well as predict possibility of emergence of newer, still unknown to us types of mutations. We can only hope that like all diseases, currently known to mankind, this class of them will also once come to naught in a certain period a natural way. Along with that we want to recommend all individuals to try carefully watch over their own soul-phycho health in order to minimize risk of infection.

Characteristics of separate types of mutations follows below.

1. “Mindless”

This is one of the most widespread among individuals sort of mutation. According to our calculations almost one half of all individuals of our planetary society have appeared to be subject to infection by it. Described type of mutation is not congenital, and can only be “acquired” later in life. For still obscure reasons even individuals with high natural resistance to this mutation can still be afflicted by it in case of their long stay in company of other already afflicted ones – in scientific nature this effect has been called as “Effect of crowd-mind-losing”.

Reasons of this phenomenon most likely lie in still unknown ways of non-physical interaction of individuals of our society among themselves. Individuals who have undergone this type of mutations appear to be incapable adequately surrounding them objective reality, become strongly enslaved by self-made (or inspired from outside) various illusions, they gradually lose any critical evaluation of perceived streams of information, and start resembling by so-called by writers and fantasts of the past “zombies”.

Mutational process can have rather continuous and long character, having stretched throughout entire planetary life of individual. Let’s note that due to reasons still unknown a small amount of individuals appeared to be totally resistant to this type of mutation. Possible causes for this immunity lie is accelerated and strengthened synthesis of hormone “Reason” in their organisms. So far, according to statistic data in which is available to us, similar individuals make about one percent of their total number. In addition, another curious feature of this type of mutations, revealed by us, is the probability of its spontaneous termination in case of getting of individual into a company of mentioned resistant individuals and rather continuous staying in it – in scientific literature this phenomenon received a name “Light of reason”. True cases and roots of similar phenomenon remains a mystery still.

This mutation can become a starting point for formation and growing of mutational processes of all other types, and, in particular, “Ear-no-hear/Eye-good-bye” type.

2. “Rage-caging”

Possible reasons of this type of mutations are the process of violation of synthesis of hormone “Good nature” in organisms of individuals along with amplifying synthesis of hormones “Anger” and “Irritation”.

Those who have undergone this kind of mutation become inclined to aggressive violent acts in relation to other individuals, which in rather open and obvious form shows the processes of their losing of own soul-psycho health.

Forms of aggression’s manifestation can be various and invariant by their nature and contents, beginning from verbal censures and finishing with physical impact on planetary bodies of other individuals.

Among all other types of mutations, this type along with mutations of “No-Joy” and “No-Heart-No-Less” has acquired the fastest by extent of infection character. Due to impossibility of artificial synthesis of hormone “Good nature”, external attempts of stopping mutational process cannot be successfully implemented.

3. “Eye-Staring”

This type of mutation is a little spread right now, which is, however, is totally not an argument for the thoughtless relation to it.

Mutants of “Eye-Staring” type appear more than all other inclined to external manifestations of the process of change of own sincere moods, they are also more than others susceptible to similar manifestations of other individuals. Quite often such manifestations are accompanied by loud “oh”, “ah”, shouts and sights. The part of similar process was called by writers of the past as “gossiping” and “self-facading”.

Let’s note that some researches challenge the fact of referencing these manifestations to mutational process, and it’s considered that they are in fact rather simply collateral features of soul-world-outlook component of the individuals. Rather active discussions on this matter are being conducted now in scientific community.

4. “Dire Liar”

So-called “pathological” lies – a radical feature of manifestation of occurring mutations of this type. Mutants of “Dire Liar” type resort to concealment of the facts of objective reality so often that sometimes appear to be incapable to distinguish own fiction from reality. It’s hard to say for sure what purpose in each case is being pursued by mutating individuals and whether is this purpose a rather conscious choice and not a consequence of influence on their soul structure of mutational processes, however the fact of change of a soul structure of individuals is undoubtful, in which connection this type of changes has been separated into a dedicated type.

Due to considerable shift of negative processes towards the identity of each separate mutating individual instead of its expression in general society, this type of mutation is considered to be as moderately dangerous.

For still unknown reasons most subject to this type of mutations are female individuals.

5. “Crafty-Looking/Crafty-Tooking”

Earlier classified type of mutation “Crafty-Tooking” in connection with its additional studying has been renamed to “Crafty-Looking”, however old name has been kept.

Those individuals who have undergone this type of soul-genetic mutations, could probably become the best speculators and deceivers of the last centuries. At present time however in connection with an active position of Ministry of Health concerning eradication of any harmful and negative spiritual processes of individuals of our planetary society, this type of personal changes is considered negative.

Distinctive feature of individuals of given type is their ability to describe for other individuals objective reality in completely or considerably distorted state, achieving thus their personal, obscure for healthy individuals, egoistical goals. Thus, unlike mutants of type “Dire Liar” mutants of this type clearly realize limits of objectivity and illusion at deception of others, but this, however, doesn’t stop them from implementing of their egoistical plans.

Distinctive feature of mutants of this type is a certain so-called “cunning” shine of eyes of their planetary body, being shown during process of their communication with other individuals.

6. “Fear-No-Less”

This type of mutation has been known to humankind from ancient antiquity, however was classified as mutation relatively recently. Mutants of type “Fear-No-Less” appear to be totally non-resistant to any kinds of insurance feelings, be they either self-made or being born in the course of interaction with a planetary spatial continuum.

Probably, this type of mutation would even not be so socially dangerous, if it was limited to the spiritual-world-outlook world of a separate individual subject to this mutation. However because subject to the specified type of mutations individual becomes involved in fate relations with others, untimely strengthening of manifestations peculiar to this type of mutations, can prove to be fatal for other individuals. The history knows many similar cases when destinies of one people were altered by cowardice of others, however detailed research of this question lies beyond this research. Let’s note that manifestations of this mutation bear rather stochastic instead of permanent characters, which is, however, not a reason for their classification as less socially dangerous.

Let’s note that a lengthy process of increasing of characteristic for this type of mutations decrease of synthesis in the organisms of individuals of hormones “Tranquility” and “Self-confidence” can lead to considerable lowering of resistance ability to all other types of mutations.

7. “Absence-Conscious”

This type of mutation is characterized by almost total change of spiritual component of individual, knows as “conscience”. Primary stage of mutation is characterized by periods of its spontaneous deactivation. In more extreme cases process of its considerable destabilization can be observed, up to a full atrophy.

Mutants of this type by their external manifestations can be similar to mutants of “Rage-caging” type in aspect of causing violent harm to others, however process of harm infliction by these individuals is practically never accompanied by active external manifestations and has exclusively ego-concentrated character which, in our opinion, makes them much more socially dangerous, and in this regard this type of mutation was considered as considerably socially dangerous.

It has been noticed that in overwhelming majority of cases this type of mutation further transforms into a “No-Heart-No-Less” type.

8. “Imp-In-Limb”

Rather new type of mutation, which has considerably amplified in the last dozens of years.

Probably, some soul-genes were brought from old centuries of so-called “Middle Ages” from so-called “witches”, but it’s also possible that this type of mutation is inherent only by only planetary generation. Anyway, the question of the reasons of give mutation is still rather open and as thus being actively discussed in scientific community.

Mutants of this type appear to be considerably predisposed to carrying out various so-called “magic rituals” with so-called “spirits”, as well as to “black magic”, manifestated in “plots”, “curses”, “malefices”,”damnation” and some other forms of psychosomatic suggestions. Some individuals of this type can also show considerable interest in visiting cemeteries, tombs and other places of burial of planetary bodies of other individuals for purposes of “dark plots”.

It’s still not totally clear of how real are such influences in fact, and whether it’s an amplification of process of mutations of “Fear-No-Less” type. Anyway, in any case we desire to recommend to other individuals to try avoiding excessive contacts with individuals of this group.

9. “Glamorous”

Also a type of mutation which was discovered only recently, which has not yet become widespread. A feature of this process of mutation is a gradually amplifying dependence of an individual on the traditional historically established external attributes of high so-called “social status” of this individual. Despite all rather active attempts of the Ministry of Health of eradication of these historically formed attributes, fixed in consciousness of a part of individuals, there was no considerably progress reached in this aspect still, which is shown in ongoing aspiration to receive such attributes as “wealth”, “glory”, “career”, ”popularity” and some other from the vast majority of individuals of our planetary society and forms a basis of formation of this type of mutations.

Probably, this process would not be so dangerous if growth of similar dependence did not bear with itself such considerable changes of psycho-world-outlook component of individuals; however because this process promotes its considerable negative transformation and amplification of susceptibility of an individuals to mutations “Gold-Mold”, “Crafty-Looking/Crafty-Tooking” and “Orgasmus-Marasmus”, revealed by the Ministry of Health specified tendencies of growth of similar type on dependencies in a context of our planetary society are considered to be considerably socially dangerous.

As it was noted before, during uncontrollable increase of similar dependence in soul-world-outlook component of an individual the process of mutation, classified by us as “Glamorous” becomes activated. For still obscure reasons in some cases the process of mutation can gain transient character and as such the individual becomes so seriously adhered to a set of described above attributes of a high social status, that he becomes incapable of imagining his life without them.

As we managed to find out during researches in case when in the near future the individual manages to gain these attributes, he practically always along with this type of mutation appears to be considerably subjected to mutation of “Orgasmus-Marasmus” type. In an opposite case the individual can become to be even more considerably subjected to one of mutations from the list – “Rage-caging”, “Dire Liar”, “Nervous-Traverse”.

We are being seriously disturbed along with researches from the Ministry of Health by a tendency of last years for more and more propagandized image of world-soul-sensation, provoking strengthening of dependence of individuals from the majority of above-mentioned attributes of “wellbeing” as such tendency potentially promotes considerable growth of mutans of this type.

In these conditions we can only recommend to not trying to adjoin in any continuous prospect with mutants of this type, as well as to realize all senselessness of attempts of achievement of those things and purposes which often remain totally harmful for your soul-psycho health as it is.

10. “Nervous-Traverse”

This type of soul-psycho change of essence of an individual has been known to mankind from ancient antiquity as well, and was classified as negative mutational process only recently.

Radical aspect of mutants of this type is their inability to maintain for long duration a healthy soul and emotional state, and considerably increased tendency of leaving it in the form of so-called “hysterics”. Sometimes similar outbursts can have rather continuous character, occupying several planetary hours. Often similar exiting is accompanied by such external attributes of their manifestation as shouts, groans, cries, inarticulate/muffled diction, incompatible movements. As it was noticed, especially subject to this type of mutations are those individuals with considerably reduced synthesis in their organisms of a hormone “Tranqulity”.

We cannot precisely tell, whether this type of mutation exclusively the consequence of similar decrease in functioning of soul-organs in an organism of the individual, or whether his formation can be promoted by other attributes of planetary social-continuum, for example ones such as more and more accelerating rhythm of life, considerable growth of quantity of information streams, which have been ascertained by researches from Ministry of Health at the last planetary conference.

In any case we desire to note the high degree of efficiency of fighting with this mutation process, revealed by us, by performing such actions as staying of individual outdoors with its thoughtless beholding, complacent communication with other individuals, personal meditations and some other methods which have been known to planetary science for a long time, but have been so considerably demanded only recently.

11. “Ear-no-hear/Eye-good-bye”

The growth of number of individuals, subject to this type of mutation, has been predicted a long time ago, but has actually been formed only in the last dozens of planetary years. Specified process of mutation consists in gradual neglecting of functions (and in some cases – their further total atrophy) soul-organs of sight and hearing of the individual. During this process the individual becomes incapable to not only objectively perceive audio and visual aspects of interaction with other individuals and correctly react to them, but also appears to be subject to considerable distortion of perceptions of real and future objective reality. Being confident of own correctness, such individuals start teaching others of incorrect picture of world-attitude and during that can promote emergence on mutational process of “Mindless” type, and as such this mutational process is considered to be highly socially dangerous.

It should be noted as well that by external manifestations individuals of this type can be similar to individuals of mutational process of “Mindless” type, which is not surprising at all, as this type of mutation is by its nature and aspects of soul-genes alteration can be considered as his successor.

12. “Alcohol-To-The-Fall”

According to its name, mutants of this type appear to be completely non-resistant to such a product of the past and (to our regret) present reality of planetary society, as alcoholic beverages. In this respect their strongest soul-psycho attachment to them is comparable only to similar attachment to attributes of a social status of “Glamorous” mutants. Let’s note that earlier given type of attachment was not considered as a negative one, and moreover it was even considered that the process of consumption of this type of products helps one gain considerably sincere relaxation, disappearance of inner soul-fear and, as a result, leads to growing of internal goodwill and soul-health of the individual.

However, as modern science has discovered, this mean like any other substitute cannot provide even the illusion of similar effects to a natural healthy synthesis of hormones “Good nature” and “Self-confidence” in organisms of individuals; moreover, overconsumption of this type of liquids in a long-term prospect conducts to gradual atrophy of functions of soul-brain, which promotes emergence and development of a mutation of “Mindless” type. Moreover, in some cases continuous process of consumption of specified means leads to emergence of essentially more dangerous type of mutations, classified by us as “Animal-Toll”.

Due to these aspects of influence of mentioned means on the majority of individuals, the Ministry of Health has taken rather active position on complete eradication of their production and sale on all planetary continuum, however any considerable successes in this matter have not yet been achieved.

13. “Gold-Mold”

Known for a long time, this process of soul-mutation has been classified as it is only in the last several years. As we managed to find out during continuous researches, only in a smallest number of cases such a mutation type is spontaneous by its nature, however in the most cases it’s only the development of such formed earlier mutational processes like “Absence-Conscious” and “Glamorous”.

Mutating individuals are distinguished by increased aspiration of accumulation and preservation of money by any means possible. To many of them give totally strange and unclear for other healthy individuals please such aspects of their lives as considerable bank account, rich apartments, cars and other aspects of material manifestation of planetary continuum. Some of them with a process of mutation have gone rather far do not shun of deception and treachery for achievement of similar purposes of self-enrichment at the expense of others. The history of our planetary society knows many cases when similar silver-adoring tendencies of one individuals defined destinies of others, however detailed consideration of these cases lies beyond our research.

Due to possibility of similar fate-bearing influence of mutating individuals of this type on others, given type of mutation is considered to be highly socially dangerous.

14. “Harmful-Artful”

Probably, the most rare of types of mutations, classified by us, besides not differing by any amplifying tendencies of growth. And this fact can’t help pleasing the entire scientific community.

Mutants of this type differ by increased tendency of machinate, set traps, and to harm other in every possible way, more often by a way, called as “stealthily”. The process of mutation can gain increased activity in so-called “childish” age of formation of soul-world-outlook components of individual, however further in overwhelming majority of cases gradually comes to naught.

However on still unknown reasons approximately in 2-3 percent of cases the process of mutation can outlive the age timespan of “childish” period of soul-formation of the individual, and stretch itself further through his planetary life. In this case mutating individuals appear to be considerably dependent on such aspects of own life-development, as the aspiration to cause harm to others. These amplifications of similar desires carry more often stochastic instead of permanent character and can especially actively manifest themselves during periods of spiritual-defective emotional conditions on an individual, such as “irritation”, “envy” and “contempt”.

Let’s note as well, that a serious amplification of specified processes of mutation (especially in combination of mutational processes of “Rage-caging” type) can lead to a considerably growth of synthesis of extremely harmful to organisms of individuals of hormone “hatred”, that, in turn, can become the catalyst for transformation on mutation of this type into a highly socially dangerous type, classified by us as “No-Heart-No-Less”.

15. “Silly-Willy”

Collateral type of mutation, being a product of base type, classified as “Mindless”, in present time is spreaded among small number of planetary individuals.

For mutating individuals of this type it’s common to see objective reality in a little distorted perception (which is a consequence of development of mutational processes of “Mindless” type), which leads to their not-so-always adequate life manifestations. More often, however, such inadequate manifestations bear exclusively personal character and don’t do any harm to other members of planetary society, and in this connection with type of mutation is considered to be little socially dangerous.

It happens so that cases of manifestation of mutations of this type carry such an objectively strongly pronounced character for other individuals that they (either for fun or somewhat seriously) call this individual exactly that way : “Oh, silly one!”

16. “Orgasmus-Marasmus”

Greatly amplified in last time type of mutation, more often it’s a consequence of development of mutational process of “Glamorous” type.

It’s peculiar to mutants of this type (at early stages of mutational process) to have strengthened or practically unstoppable desire (in a case when development of the process of mutation takes extreme forms) to receive pleasures (more often of a physical nature in aspect of own planetary bodies). Similar desire can receive such a strongly pronounced character that for achievement of the goal of self-satisfaction the individual will not shun anything – beginning from aspects of social acceptability of own actions and finishing with aspects of own spiritual-psycho health. Borders of this mutation have started to gain such a widespread character at present, that it becomes impossible to accurately express main aspects of this sort of manifestation of tendencies of self-satisfaction of ill individuals.

It has been discovered during continuous observation, that in overwhelming majority of cases this type of mutation in case of its active development further transforms into a much dangerous type “Animal-Toll”.

It has still not been found out, whether this mutation is a consequence of the considerable influence on them earlier of some negative aspects of manifestation of material of social continuums, or if it’s in fact a consequence of congenital inability of individuals to any healthy contact with social-continuum as a whole.

Nevertheless, in order to avoid infection processes, we urgently recommend to all healthy individuals to remember a model experiment of scientists of the past with a rat, who have wished to die of constant orgasm, and never in their lives to subordinate their spiritual components to physical ones.

17. “Animal-Toll”

Considerably social dangerous type of a mutation, which is a consequence of rather large number of mutational process of other types.

Development of this process of mutation can be revealed on changes of external attributes of behavior of the individual, which is some aspect become more and more similar to the corresponding manifestation aspects of representatives of fauna. As it has been established during research of processes of soul-genes-transformation peculiar to this process of mutation, specified type of mutation cannot live independently and always forms a pair with another process, and in case of destruction of “base” genes-virus this process of mutation gradually diminishes as well.

This type of mutation is considered to be highly socially dangerous, because not only does it forms a basis of formation of such soul-genetic mutations like “Nonsense-Looking” and “Trite-As-Blight”, but can also considerably amplify negative aspects of other mutations with which generating it soul-virus enter into symbiosis state.

So, the most dreadful potential type of symbiosis was considered a symbiosis of this soul-virus with soul-virus of mutational process of “Rage-caging” type, because in a case of similar symbiosis practically in 100 percent of cases the individual completely loses his human shape and starts reminding a wild beast instead, being ready to kill in a name and for justification of own anger, and thus similar individuals requires to be expelled from their social continuum as fast as possible.

18. “Nonsense-Looking”

A side effect of mutational process of “Animal-Toll” type, this type of mutational process is characterized by considerable alteration of external soul-image, perceived by other individuals. Especially accurately and clearly change of soul-image of mutated individual can be felt those individuals, who have not undergone any of classified by us mutations – in this case in relation to mutating individual they can feel some slight unmotivated spiritual hostility. A curios feature of this mutational process is the fact that separate individuals with ongoing mutational processes of this type not only do not feel mentioned form of light form of hostility in relation to each other, but on the contrary can experience sincere attachment and sympathy to each other, which forms a basis for their gathering in so-called “bands” and “gangs”, further purpose of which becomes vandalism, gangsterism and other socially dangerous aspects of soul-activity.

The reasons of mentioned phenomenon of attachment of mutating individuals of this type to each other is still a mystery.

19. “Trite-As-Blight”

Yet another side effect of mutational process of “Animal-Toll” type, this type of process of soul-mutation is characterized by considerably introduction of traits and aspects of behavior of representatives of fauna into so-called “sexual” sphere of life of an individual.

Mutants of this type often differ by their inability to control of aspect of own so-called “sexual” behavior in a context of their society. Light forms of this trait are their deliberate and rough, humiliating, sexually-focused aspect of relations with representatives of an opposite sex. Heavy forms of manifestation are the aspiration of satisfaction of own sexual desires even through means of causing both physical and spiritual harm to the individual of the opposite gender.

An additional feature of a mutation of this type is a possibility of transformation of soul-psychics of infected individual into soul-psychics of representatives of the opposite sex. In addition a new aspect of this soul-genetic mutation process has been discovered recently, which is being expressed in aspiration of separate individuals to establishment of sexual interactions with representatives of the same gender. The reasons of this phenomenon have not been established by now.

Let’s note as well that by still unknown reasons most subject to this type of mutation of individuals of male gender.

20. “ No-Joy”

Mutational process of “basic type”, which can be both a consequence of other mutations or to arise spontaneously. As it has been established, in a case when this mutational process arises as a result of other mutations, it appears to be much more resistant and steady than in case of spontaneous arising.

The most frequent reasons of emergence of this process among mutations are “Ear-no-hear/Eye-good-bye”, “Orgasmus-Marasmus” and “Mindless” during the periods of attenuation. In a case of spontaneous emergence of mutational process of this type its reasons are heavily weakened self-regulating processes of synthesis of hormones “Joy” and “Good nature” in organisms of individuals.

For mutants of this type practically permanent negative attitude to surrounding them reality is peculiar, as well as the absence of practically any potentially positive interests and desires, or, as scientists of the past expressed themselves, “constantly lowered emotional background”.

Probably, mutational process of this type would not be so dangerous, if not a steady tendency of the last dozens of years to its nonlinear growth and its ability to considerably amplify mutational processes of all other types. As a unique rather effective remedy of fighting against a mutation of this type only the natural good nature of an individual can currently be considered.

21. “No-Heart-No-Less”

Extremely dangerous form of soul-mutation, showing a steady tendency of growth for last hundreds of planetary years.

Mutants of this type (even at early stages of course of mutational process) are characterized by almost full atrophy of such basic soul-organ as “heart”. Similar atrophy conducts to their partial or full inability of any positive soul-emotional manifestations, sincere empathy to other individuals, spiritual support and manifestation of any sort of warmth. Such a transformation is extremely painful not only for other healthy individuals being in contact with soul-mutant of this type, but first and foremost for the very sick individual himself, because it leads to gradual continuous decrease in synthesis of such extraordinary important for life hormones as “Good nature”, “Joy” and “Self-confidence” in connection with atrophy of synthesizing them organ up to complete and full stop. Due to name feature of this mutational process infected with it individuals often show some traits of mutations of “Rage-caging” and “Absence-Conscious” types.

In its further development this soul-mutational process transforms itself into mutation of type “No-Soul-No-Less”.

At present time the planetary science has no knowledge of any effective means of fighting with a soul-virus, provoking this type of mutation. As the only rather effective constraining development of mutation mean can be considered only active and frequent manifestation of all types of spiritual warmth to a mutating individual from other healthy ones.

22. “No-Soul-No-Less”

The final point of mutations of all other types and the most catastrophic of types of all known (and potentially – any other) mutations.

It’s hard to predict by what ways one or several mutational processes of other types will go, but all of them can finally lead to a mutation of this type, and in this case will cease to give in to any further treatment.

Rather seldom started mutational processes of other types manage to come to a formation of mutation of this type during one planetary life of an individual, however the history of our planetary society knows such precedents.

We have totally no desire to describe all those sad manifestations and all that pain, which a soul-virus brings to its new owner, as well as all that grief brought by this owner to a planetary society. We can only hope that one day the mankind will finally find a medicine for struggling against this illness, and the world will see such people no longer – ones who have decayed alive.

We can only hope…

23. Human-Like

Planetary genetic science and we as its representatives find it difficult to answer of whether this condition of a human soul can be considered as a mutation at all, or whether it’s in fact still little studied special condition that is preventing of all other types of mutations from emergence.

At present time rather active disputes are going on in the scientific community…

02.05.2012




New Age Threshold. Part I


Astounding tragicomedy in N parts

V.V.P. : - Greetings and well met, oh highly respected soul-freeing TV-watchers! Oh, whatever the way you can call yourself … Well, have a good time of pokes … I mean, jokes! Yeah, yeah, it’s me again together with ye, the TV presenter of the “Russia News” show Vladimir Vladimirovich Pupkin. And while I haven’t almost forgotten, one more thing to say to ye - I ask, I literally beg of you to stop addressing us in these three letters … well, you’ve understood! So, the topic of our next tele-task … I mean, tele-cast … will be, saying straightly, of the truly apocalyptic nature. But let’s not get behind ourselves … I mean, ahead! And, yeah, while I still haven’t forgotten the scenario, I want to add that there is a guest here sitting in the studio together with me for now, a researcher of souls of a human nature, Fyodor! Hello, Fyodor!

Fyodor :- Zdryam!

V.V.P. :- Fyodor makes me stun, telling them all “zdryam” …

Fyodor :- Those are the customs and the times … but let’s not build spiritual mines to be left lonely in the cram, addressing watchers with words “zdryam” …

V.V.P. :- From such a rhyme I’ll shed some tears! Where have you been for two hundred years?

Fyodor :- No need for sorrowful accord, I had to live in other world.

V.V.P. :- Oh well, perhaps, but let us stop - or soon we will be on the top until at least the end of day … I find it hard to rhyme, I say!

Fyodor :- And I find funny it for now … what shall we tell to them and how?

V.V.P. :- Oh, we will see the picture vile, how Russian bear gets exiled; how dies a foe from overseas; how British flag gets sunk in freeze; how Jews returned all western walls to Arabs nations with to tolls; how Europe-Russia did unite, and Balts unable to spread blight; how N of prophecies came true; how temples ruined without glue; how politicians got mad and eat now only stale bread; and how the Newest Epoch comes and we are hitting in the drums!

Fyodor :- You are a poet, friend, as well … to find a better job you shall!

V.V.P. :- I’ve got such laurels, what to say? But where were you along the way?

Fyodor :- I got frozen in the cold, that is what my soul told.

V.V.P. :- A winter of soul? Is summer a goal?

Fyodor :- It was delayed, I was afraid. But hope I do - will sky turn blue, and Sun of God will come in world.

V.V.P. :- To be a light in darkest night? This world is full of hatred, blight!

Fyodor :- Don’t be afraid, find strength to fly - the jackal will just howl and die!

V.V.P. :- Already howling, do you hear? The days of answer coming near.

Fyodor :- Such is the century and time … we have forgotten what is prime, in darkness many washed and stayed, and path to God they have betrayed.

V.V.P. :- That’s just what we are showing you! The years passed will now be few, and world will clear from the sin, and will emerge like submarine.

Fyodor :- How gothic is that your prediction … it is so fine and not a fiction! To clear in light we have because the God is knocking at the doors!

V.V.P. :- And one will find Him, being ready … let’s watch the topic, friend, already?

Fyodor :- All right, Vladimir, play your part! Prepare to watch, let’s give a start!

V.V.P. :- A time of wonders is approaching, and gentle souls Spirit’s touching …

Fyodor :- Such events take the place just once … think wider, our TV fans!

A camera in television studio moves somewhere sideways and upwards, at first displaying the vicinities of some city from height of a bird’s flight, and then sharply dives downwards and panoramas of various small streets are revealed before televiewers. Small streets quickly replace one another as camera continues its sharp dive there-here for rounds, moving at level of the third-fourth floors of buildings. Strangely enough, all streets look deserted - not a single wandering soul can be seen along it. All common crowd activity has gone somewhere, thousands of men and women as if have vanished from the city, and a din, so traditional for megacities, has totally broken off. Cars are parked in some chaotic manner along the edges of streets - some of them, were apparently hastily abandoned, - their doors are wide open,  however no one aspires to take hold of another’s vehicle. City system of illumination and traffic light still work, however one cannot observe any visible movement at all. As if the city died out all of a sudden - definitively and irrevocably.

Fyodor :- Oh my, what’s going there on? Some time ago they dreamed of throne - but now all hidden like the rats … perhaps they’ve seen some giant cats?

V.V.P. :- This is New York … or bestiary? Reminds me of the mortuary … all people left the streets for good … oh no, this ain’t Hollywood!

Fyodor :- Who record this to be then shown?

V.V.P. :- It’s operator, who has flown!

Fyodor :- Oh my! A man can soar like bird?

V.V.P. :- And do much more of that sort!

Fyodor :- With proper faith we all can fly and join thus the life of sky?

V.V.P. :- A couple is already soaring … and trust my word, this isn’t boring.

Fyodor :- I see … oh well, and where are men, have gone to Hollywood all then?

V.V.P. :- Like cockroaches in the homes - all reading now the holy tomes! As if the priests of the blight behold the coming of the Light!

Fyodor :- Like cockroaches, being lit, they run away now, breaking feet? What are they doing at these times?

V.V.P. :- Before the God commit their crimes. Ask to forgive their sins in demise, feeling how far they are from Paradise. Knowing, perhaps, what some earned with deeds … asking to banish from soul dark seeds.

Fyodor :- In hearts and minds believed in God? That’s such a wonderful accord …

V.V.P. :- Fyodor, remember, who’s recording them!

Fyodor :- Your operator in skies like a ram?

V.V.P. :- Sort of, my Fyodor, and something like that … see through the camera, how he is glad?

A smiling ruddy physiognomy of the operator suddenly appears before televiewers. The physiognomy shows its tongue and, apparently, teases televiewers. Then a hand appears on the front in a camera, affably waving to all.

V.V.P. :- This is Ivan, the operator - he’s roaming skies as of the later!

Fyodor :- The bird descended from the skies … and what of planes?

V.V.P. :- They’ve stopped their flies!

Fyodor :- Are they afraid to crash with him?

V.V.P. :- No better plane they’ve ever seen!

Fyodor :- All what I’ve learned in institute … the laws of physics …

V.V.P. :- Leave for good! The world of wonders is the choice, the God has heard appealing voice…

Fyodor :- Where are our physicists can we see? Vomit in toilets or have flee?

V.V.P. :- Ivan, show us the institute! They are “praying” there now for good.

Camera suddenly twitches, sharply floats somewhere downwards, then upwards, again downwards and upwards, speeding up on its way, and then for the last time dives down and flies directly into the open doors of some building, dives in corridors for a few times and then stand still in immovability. A huge hall opens before televiewers, filled with people in glasses, dressed in white dressing gowns. Those ones, standing near walls, amicable as though on command, with a periodicity of several seconds hit the wall with their heads, making a sound, somewhat resembling a “bom!” Those unlucky ones, who have got no walls in their direct possession, are standing in the center of the hall on their knees, and with so smaller persistence strike a stone floor with their foreheads with approximately similar periodicity. The show depresses and bewitches simultaneously.

Fyodor :- Oh, stop this nonsense, help them heal, or other way themselves they’ll kill!

V.V.P. :- Ones in depression cannot thrive. Such is the way of disbelief.

Fyodor :- Their minds are useful still. Hope soon better they will feel.

V.V.P. :- To learn themselves they do not try … and in such actions their soul cry.

Fyodor :- One cannot learn himself through mind, a path to soul must he find.

V.V.P. :- I hope someday they’ll read this text. What are we going to watch next?

Fyodor :- In what casemates priest creep, being left without “faithful” sheep?

V.V.P. :- Ivan have seen how faithful ones pray not in church, yet sing and dance! 

Camera changes its foreshortening once more, takes off from an institute building, winding through narrow and twisting corridors, then soars up in heavens and rushes in whitish clouds, from time to time looking at the sun as if for the sake of joy. Then sharply dives downwards, hardly not hitting an iron cross, decorating the top of the building, and flies into the open gate of some large temple. A truly intriguing picture reveals before the eyes: the last left in the church priest does, apparently, something unimaginable. He periodically fills his hands with a handful of “sacred” water and “tastes” it on a tongue, promptly screwing up ones face and meffedly whispering something under the nose; or removes a heavy cross, hanging on a neck, and strikes himself with it into a forehead, shouting “Amen” for better effect; or approaches a random icon, and starts ogling; or sits down on a floor in a pose of a lotus and begins beating out a tap dance on all the crosses, necklaces and other jewelry, covering his body; or with a heart-rendering cries “I banish thee, I tell ya!” starts rushing over a hall, threating someone invisible with a overgilded cross. This show frightens, intrigues and bewitches at the same time.

Fyodor :- I wonder, is that priest mad?

V.V.P. :- A ritual plague this priest had.

Fyodor :- All forms he mixed, but essence - miss … was priest kissed by abyss?

V.V.P. :- For quite a long their god is money, all actions strange, few souls are sunny, and even stupid ritual he can’t perform, for it’s so dull.

Fyodor :- If they possess no more sheep, there is no need for gold and whip?

V.V.P. :- Let’s them cut fur from their bodies, and all those “donated” goodies.

Fyodor :- They’ve served a golden calf so well, had their feasts in their fall - was their list of crimes too fat?

V.V.P. :- I guess we’ll keep in secret that!

Fyodor :- The priests are not doing well … watch politicians, friend, we shall?

V.V.P. :- No reason watching them, I think - to guzzle oats and vodka’s drink? 

Fyodor :- Oats and vodka? Funny move! That’s how their holiness they prove?

V.V.P. :- They are doing that for quite a time! With Faberge eggs they play ping-pong, and left their mansions with gold pools, still loudly crying: “We were fools!”

Fyodor :- Those are, no doubt, timely thoughts!

V.V.P. :- Hi, politician! Eat now the oats!

Fyodor :- Have they ground off their teeth, trying all to bite and tease? Or have enlightenment just come, and they have learned their own harm?

V.V.P. :- They were shocked, then were crying when Ivan was zealously flying! And just besides in own dreams they saw the tombs, prepared for sins. They saw what is awaiting them, and since these days they are in the lam.

Fyodor :- The avaricious knight has learned the price of blight, confirmed that he was fool and sat in dirty pool?

V.V.P. :- Sort of, my friend, it is quite so … the politician has fallen low. Already soon he’ll leave the scene, for oh-so-bloody it has been.

Fyodor :- What if he gives away all gold?

V.V.P. :- Another fate may then unfold. But he collected all in holes, for long perceiving own goals.

Fyodor :- He may present someone somewhere, to share with others - that is fair!

V.V.P. :- Every task can you endure, if your soul’s always pure! 

Fyodor :- Oats with them we’ll not consume, and leave them all alone to fume. I guess at last the time has come to watch medical outcome! For long they’ve rescued only bodies - what has become with their goodies?

V.V.P. :- Ivan, show us the plot for now, and fly in heavens … you know how!

Camera changes its foreshortening for one more time, turning away from a raging priest, who is crying out “Ya fly away from there, I banish ya!”, takes into opened temple’s gates and rises into heavens. For some time a spectator can observe landscapes replacing each other far below, beginning from vast forest and finishing with apparently endless roads, leading goodness know where and goodness know what for, and then starts a traditional sharp dive and the picture of a city’s dump reveals before one’s eyes. Huge dump - I would even say a picture of massive waste. It’s clearly visible a row of cars standing before a dump, competing with each other in the holy right to be emptied as soon as possible. During the “emptying” of a next garbage truck it becomes visible, how from its body a big heaps of some tablets of all possible forms and coloring, some bags filled with powder, and finally some jars and bottles with every possible mixtures are rolled out and fall down into this already huge heap. All this medical junk amicably flies downwards from a heap’s top, ringing and as though clinking with invisible hooves in the process. This magnificent picture is finalized with striding here and there between heaps fire-bearers with torches, who persistently and methodically try to send all this unloaded junk to a fire for eating.

Fyodor :- Burning bright, a finest light!

V.V.P. :- Look in the sky - Ivans do fly!

Fyodor :- Fine to remember of own childhood, these fire-bearers are like Robins Hoods! Medicines burn with a wonderful glow, former diseased express their “love” …

V.V.P. :- People of Earth heal each other, energies holy were granted by Father.

Fyodor :- A funny change in medicines … diseases are caused by own sins!

V.V.P. :- A true belief can cure one! The one’s, becoming divine son, mistakes must own understand to travel then in wonderland. They now were healed by the God, they sing and dance, and praise and glad!

Fyodor :- And by all means, that is just fine! Beloved topic that’s of mine … I am again on the road, and happy thinking of the God.

V.V.P. :- We both, my Fyodor, know of that - this planet was in state so bad, but now the healing in near … and the new Earth will know no fear. The age of light now comes to life …

Fyodor :- I wonder, who will that survive?




05.02.2012




New Age Threshold. Part II


V.V.P. : - Pray tell me, Fyodor, how are you?

Fyodor : - The fate has stacked us with glue!

V.V.P. : -  Oh yes, I see … and that’s fine then! Shall we watch events once again?

Fyodor : - Or we can simply talk a lot … and share what’s going on and hot!

V.V.P. : - The spring is coming, snow’s no more …

Fyodor : - And once again my spirit soar!

V.V.P. : - How is the height? And what’s the speed? And is the sign in heavens lit?

Fyodor : - I have no knowledge of my height … Yet speed increases own grade …

V.V.P. : - I am so happy, poet-friend, that we for now are in same band!

Fyodor : - There is no reason now to flatter … to wake up sleepers - so much better.

V.V.P. :- Through verses telling of the things, and waving own hands like wings?

Fyodor :- Of wondrous times we are still ringing, and bird from skies to us still singing, with each her song we know bit more, so let us learn her hidden lore.

V.V.P. :- We are together - I am glad. Let’s once again pour the flood!

Fyodor :- Strange flood’s approaching worthy nations … enlightenment that’s and inspiration!

V.V.P. :- Heed our speech, my watcher, then. Life’s closing circle once again!

Fyodor  :- The altitude does differ, though. Away from fire shadows flow.

V.V.P. :- Without fire life is dark.

Fyodor :- So let’s give watcher at least spark. A river of times is flowing in spring for them to awaken in eye’s blink.

V.V.P. :- Awakened warriors we’ve got! What’s their numbers?

Fyodor :- Quite a lot?

V.V.P. :- I guess there could be more of them?

Fyodor :- Someone preferred to go in lam.

V.V.P. :- We’ll fight alongside ones, who’ve come.

Fyodor :- And make the viewer silent-stunned.

V.V.P. :- Let’s go, oh camera, go live! Ivan is going on the strife!

Fyodor :- Ivan in going in the sky just like a fighter on the fly …

V.V.P. :- He's fighting now with prejudice!

Fyodor :- But have no feathers, just us, guys.

V.V.P. :- And add the wings to absence list - but still he’s sky apologist.

Fyodor :- He’ll gain those in Thin World rather and bath himself then in the ether?

V.V.P. :- It’s hard to be like Angel, guy, your soul must be on the fly.

Fyodor :- True wings are granted by the God?

V.V.P. :- Ivan, show us the funny plot!

Camera together with Ivan (or maybe Ivan together with a camera?) rush away from film-making studio, winding on corridors for a long time, evading on its way from scurrying here and there employees, who are at the sight of camera (or maybe Ivan instead?) quite unambiguously smile and concede roads; then, finally, flies by at the opening door on a fresh air. It’s clearly visible how a camera then turns by a semicircle, speeds up and starts winding through capital’s streets, having risen by level of the third or fourth floor of houses in order to evade side effects of possible collisions with even less ambiguously smiling lower-walking passers-by. After about three minutes before televiewers a scene of recently build up shopping center opens up, and camera, having accurately entered in formed at opening of entrance doors armholes, finally freezes as though in indecision state.

A picture of truly epic scale reveals before the audience : entire hall, as far as the look suffices, is full of people making a din and scurrying-about here and there, on backs of which pairs of wings of white, black, pink, green, orange, gray, gray-brown-crimson-in-a-speck colors are fixed. Lots of girls do coquettishly try on themselves the next pair of wings, gracefully flaunting in front of mirrors; as if in revenge some young men try to pinch them from time to time for these very most newly acquired wings; here and there exclamations of type “And do these white ones fit me well?”, “And those pinkish I’ll present to my girlfriend!”, “In them you look more like a devil!”,”I welcome thee, Emo-Angel!”, “Gimme two!” and the like. The picture intrigues and bewitches one greatly.

Fyodor :- What are they doing there, my!

V.V.P. :- The wings of Angels do they buy!

Fyodor :- Like them they want to look at least, and have engaged in fair’s feast?

V.V.P. :- Everyone desired so when Ivan was on the go!

Fyodor :- They search for wings as if guru?

V.V.P. :- And cry aloud “Gimme two!”

Fyodor :- There are wings of color black?!

V.V.P. :- For those whose soul’s on wrong track.

Fyodor :- And even those of color pink …

V.V.P. :- It’s quite an honor, don’t you think?

Fyodor :- You’ve got a humor in the stock! And what is that?

V.V.P. :- It’s winged dog!

Fyodor :- And even horse these wings has gain?!

V.V.P. :- Pegasus flying in the rain!

Fyodor :- It’s sort of miracle as such …

V.V.P. :- I do agree, so don’t you touch!

Fyodor :- Ivan’s no doubt, lucky one!

V.V.P. :- And more skills are yet to come. He’s our curiosity with all verbosity!

Fyodor :- I am so happy for that man! Flying’s is part of Divine Plan.

V.V.P. :- Into the Garden we will go … the road is shining with new glow.

Fyodor :- Someone will enter, others not. The battle’s getting more hot.

V.V.P. :- I pity those still doing crime. Just like American marine …

Fyodor :- How USA is living, yes?

V.V.P. :- Ivan, show us this teaching mess!

As if having found second wings, let it even be somewhat artificial, in reality, Ivan in unity with a camera and his great desire leaves chock-full pavilion with Not-So-Angels and sharply soars up to the clouds. For a short instant the camera appears to be blinded by beams of a rising sun, and then the audience can behold for some time gentle curly-headed cloudlets-lambs and flying by flights of pigeons. Then all of a sudden the camera dives down, cutting clouds and having frightened off the next flock of totally not guilty of anything birds, and depressing in the monotone picture reveals before televiewers.

Wherever you look - everywhere there are dilapidated and almost depopulated cities with rickety houses and beaten-out glasses, through streets of which  winds keeps walking and rolling goodness know where from brought tumbleweed and other not taken out from fire chestnuts. From time to time through this or that street some figure rushes on, bearing a faint resemblance to human, yet by its habits and appearance more resembling Neanderthal men. Sometimes silent abuse comes off from Ivan’s side, along with advices to be cleaned from “this burial ground of stinking macaques” as quicker as possible. The picture, revealing before televiewers indeed partly reminds a cemetery, in which survived ones didn’t still manage to put things in order yet, or are already totally incapable of doing so independently. It all forms a feeling as though this continent was recently visited either by a huge natural disaster, or not less destructive by its consequences social act of terrorism. The picture depresses and leaves extremely burdensome impression on Soul.

Fyodor :- Who are these? Some sort of monkeys?

V.V.P. :- Sir, look closer, these are Yankees!

Fyodor :- Faces covered with fear?

V.V.P. :- Their fall is coming near!

Fyodor :- Many covered with fur, no escape from own moor?

V.V.P. :- Those, who have abandoned God, doomed themselves to groan and rot.

Fyodor :- Yankees must repentance feel …

V.V.P. :- They are killing others still …

Fyodor :- Who will them accept abroad? Poor fates for now they’ve got!

V.V.P. :- All worthy ones will make through sea, what for the rest - I cannot see …

Fyodor :- Oh, what a pitiful the end! A fitting end for continent.

V.V.P. :- Capitalism made them like mad. Feodalism now welcomes, lad!

Fyodor :- They are dividing quickly so … how many “kingdoms” in the row?

V.V.P. :- Just like as many as the states … Run overseas all Wall Street’s mates!

Fyodor :- No one escapes the Justice Law!

V.V.P. :- Feel no repentance? It means … oh …

Fyodor :- Those ones escaping from the fate will more trouble only bait.

V.V.P. :- Ships may think without link … of your actions one must think!

Fyodor :- Look what Yankees brought on them …

V.V.P. :- Nature’s wrath is like a ram! Whirlwinds and tsunamis maybe coming from the seas …   

Fyodor :- This is quite instructive, yes … evil ones are making mess.

V.V.P. :- Quite long ago it has been told. Still people strife for wealth and gold.

Fyodor :- They are the lesson for this world, ones who rejected divine chord …

V.V.P. :- This nation bears own guilt … and hate like poison makes them wilt.

Fyodor :- Their brother-Jew … what of these ones?

V.V.P. :- Ivan, show us those “chosen” sons.

Once again having sadly sighted directly into the camera, Ivan sighs with relief and soars under heavens once again, and, being guided by reference points known only to him, flies straight in the direction of a sacred hail, because of which sanctity there was so much human blood, probably not so sacred, spilled already. On approaching, however, it becomes obvious that the sky over Jerusalem is densely covered with black-gray clouds, here and there lightnings are sparkling, illuminated dark horizon, and heavy rain has already started. Either a mind abuse or Ivan’s caustic snicker can be heard in the camera, and she, camera, starts of become covered by more than live drops of moisture. Then, however, the hand of operator waves before televiewers, which in all its immense power with ease wipes the camera in a flash of time, and unambiguously exposes to everyone its thumb, raised vertically up.

Five more seconds passes and before looking into their TV screens auditory a shocking unprepared watcher view opens itself: it’s clearly visible how large masses of people gathered before sorrowly known Wailing Wall and in some sort of drunk waste, more, however, reminding frenzied despair, are bashing their heads against this so sorrowly known wall. They are hitting it, however, not so strongly and seriously, because no a single one from them, as the look suffices, bears no visible signs of a blow with own forehead. Deaf sounds “bom!” accompanied by high shrieks “Ai!”, “Ouch!” and even “Eh time, one more time!” fill space. The picture reminds an attempt of national public repentance not the most original way. Drops of moisture, beating about a pavement, complete this pitiable picture of crying.

V.V.P. :- Just look, my friend, at Wailing Wall - the Jews are “paying” their toll!

Fyodor :- Oh my! With heads they are bashing walls! Is that the way to reach their goals?

V.V.P. :- They beat themselves like in frenzy, for long have been living in the lie…

Fyodor :- A heaven’s fire fell on town, and “chosen” one was stripped of crown?

V.V.P. :- Was making money all the way … and thus become their own prey.

Fyodor :- Water with fire will cleanse all, thought it was not their own goal.

V.V.P. :- What do you think of them, my friend, what is the future of this land?

Fyodor :- Here’s my thought without catch - for greed of some we need a patch.

V.V.P. :- There are wolves among the lambs …

Fyodor :- In USA wolves built their tombs!

V.V.P. :- Their guns are useless all for now, in own traps they steadily fall.

Fyodor :- When conscience dropped in the urn, the sun’s becoming hot and burn?

V.V.P. :- Whose speech is brutal, full of hate may know what role sun plays in fate.

Fyodor :- Without nature one lives not. What of officials and their sort?

V.V.P. :- I’m afraid they aren’t glad.

Fyodor :- I didn’t get it - what is that?

V.V.P. :- Without money thieves went mad.

Fyodor :- And what of those who stole not much?

V.V.P. :- For their wealth they tried to clutch.

Fyodor :- Can this be seen in color mode?

V.V.P. :- A nice cutscene we have got.

Fyodor :- And that reply is quite unclear.

V.V.P. :- Oh yes, we’ll see, ‘cause it’s quite near.

Camera soars up again, taking off from a zone of black clouds, and sets course for a Moscow. After a short duration still recently black sky suddenly lights up with sunshine, patches of which light starts playing here and there on lens only known to them chords. Through totally short time before televiewers the image of St. Basil’s Cathedrals flows out in a real time, and the panorama of Red Square reveals from a bird’s flight height. It’s clearly visible how along specified square under a military escort all first officials of the state, who have now become the last ones, are moving, spitefully looking around on by no means loyal to them military forces and celebrating people. From the site of aforementioned last ones obscene abuses and promises “to restore justice” can be overheard - what sort of justice they are talking about, however, isn’t known. Escorts periodically kick them, helping to get into the prepared armored vans under encouraging exclamations of standing nearby people. On faces of thieves of Russian State, departing into exile, a totally genuine mix of fear, surprise, melancholy and disappointment can been distinguished. By all means it’s obvious that they surely didn’t expected such sort of ending.

Fyodor :- I see they all now in the run, without power, with no fun?

V.V.P. :- Official fell from all the tops with little help from Russian cops!

Fyodor :- He made a monument of him …

V.V.P. :- It didn’t honored him, it seem.

Fyodor :- His end I think is rather dim … 

V.V.P. : - Comedy ended, here’s “fin”.

Fyodor :- He is escaping oversea, but cannot hide and cannot flee.

V.V.P. :- And all good men do live in hope … this inner robbery has stopped.

Fyodor :- And what is that? They are groaning “no” but in Siberia still go?

V.V.P. :- They are leaving Kremlin in the tracks, abusing all with useless “fuck”s!

Fyodor :- I will show nothing like respect before those Kremlin-thieves-sect …

V.V.P. :- They’ve been exiled in distant lands for Russia’s tired of these “bands”.

Fyodor :- What, check and mate? It’s just in time! I’m overjoyed in the rhyme!

V.V.P. :- The second escort do you see?

Fyodor :- These liberals will not get free!

V.V.P. :- Both parties cursing each one, well … and moving now in parallel …

Fyodor :- Just look at how they blame each other! To curses I won’t listen rather!

V.V.P. :- They will have great time together … I will not watch “reunion” rather!

Fyodor :- I have all reasons to believe! Woe to traitors and to thieves …

V.V.P. :- Once common men exiled they, but life now offered mirrored way!

Fyodor :- The Russia’s pillage will not last! Where is the axe from former “past”?

V.V.P. :- Oh no, drop weapons, wars don’t rock!

Fyodor :- It is, my friend, was sort of joke. My hero once was axe-bearer, but time of change is coming near, so he is now with blade of word …

V.V.P. :- It’s such a wonderful accord!

Fyodor :- In ranks of friends, and in due time, this time I’m battling with a rhyme!

V.V.P. :- The Maker gave this great gift?

Fyodor :- The souls of others it can lift!

V.V.P. :- That honor’s great without doubt …

Fyodor :- And epochs starting their new round …

V.V.P. :- The clouds of darkness are no more … but can you see what lies afore?

Fyodor :- The Russia will awake from sleep, inspired again, no longer sick.

V.V.P. :- The beast is crawling back in hole …

Fyodor :- The spring is coming, spring for all!

V.V.P. :- All cockroaches run from light, for do thrive only in the blight …

Fyodor :- The house Landlord is now here - and kind ones should feel never fear.

V.V.P. :- The light is burning thieves’ backs, their minds do spin with consciousness “crack”s.

Fyodor :- I see the Russia’s hoping all. What’s with Saxons?

V.V.P. :- They paid their toll.

Fyodor :- You mean they cursed their banks?

V.V.P. :- I mean they’ve put on aqualungs!

Fyodor :- For long time they’ve been hating us … is the Atlantis better thus?

V.V.P. :- No longer they have their home. The England, well … it’s sort of … gone.

Fyodor :- Empire fell with awful smell?

V.V.P. :- And shouldn’t it? The water, well …

Fyodor :- Oh my, you mean they had to dive and swim away to save their life?

V.V.P. :- The nature gave reply to crimes, from the “third world” they are sucking “fines” …

Fyodor :- What is that light in such dense fog?

V.V.P. :- It’s Scotland’s fire! These guys rock!

Fyodor :- They truly are the mountains sons!

V.V.P. :- The world is changing with no guns…

Fyodor :- All fools believed that life is still.

V.V.P. :- The speed of change they will soon feel!

Fyodor :- The inner wisdom never sleeps … I would prefer to watch your tips.

Kremlin Square starts quickly disappearing from sight, getting smaller and smaller, leaving one with a pride in a soul for the Russian people, camera starts winding of streets and suddenly stops before some large capital library, before gates of which a true and real fire is burning! Its borders and limits are, however, being successfully controller by passing here and there processions with torches, who help to burn the pilled-up paper waste and supervise that ashes of her shabby knowledge weren’t carried by a blowing wind too far on the world. On faces of participants of procession it’s possible to notice a surprising mix of grief and inner joy at the same time. Periodically here and there war-calls in the spirit of “Burn right and bright, let’s end the blight!” can be overheard. Action intrigues, shocks and bewitches strenuously and practically unstoppably.

Fyodor :- What sort of field there burns?

V.V.P. :- They are throwing textbooks in the urns!

Fyodor :- To hear inner wisdom’s voice they had to make such funny choice?

V.V.P. :- All rubbish knowledge is like ash, so lots of theories have crashed.

Fyodor :- The joy of life the Maker gives … yet not to traitors, not to thieves.

V.V.P. :- The time has come for us to fly. Still move in cars … don’t we feel shy?

Fyodor :- The cars can still have reason, yes, but shall be changed by progress.

V.V.P. :- Another type of fuel here, no more oil, wars and fear.

Fyodor :- Let Earth take finally some rest. Those new inventions are the best.

V.V.P. :- No scientific idle wander, spiritual science is like thunder.

Fyodor :- For if there is just mind plus greed, for bombs then we are planting seed.

V.V.P. :- No longer mankind making bombs, no more digging catacombs.

Fyodor :- And what with these that have been made?

V.V.P. :- Theirs only fate is to degrade.

Fyodor :- What do you mean? Again in fight?!

V.V.P. :- No way! One sees his soul’s might!

Fyodor :- I have been almost terrified. Deserve they honor by the right!

V.V.P. :- And tons of metal are now free … where will they use it, we shall see! 

Fyodor :- They melt all cannons and know not where would that metal all be brought?

V.V.P. :- They’ve dug that metal quite a lot applying wrongly with no thought.

Fyodor :- And now it’s time for worthy goal. The greedy one pays double toll!

V.V.P. :- Oh yeah, one thing I find quite funny - how will they pay without money?

Fyodor :- With little money little gore?

V.V.P. :- All money gone, they are no more!

Fyodor :- Is this some sort of New World’s charter? 

V.V.P. :- Good times of innocence and barter!

Fyodor :- One never knows they ways of fates! And what of currencies and rates?

V.V.P. :- Without them still people thrive. But at how those brokers live!

It’s obvious that heavenly apologist Ivan very reluctantly says goodbye to contemplation of burning fields of shabby books, so bewitching the sight of unprepared viewer, but, nevertheless, curiosity together with a call of duty finally prevails, and he, having waved a hand to all torches procession, and shouted to them something like “Hasta la vista!”, for one another time soars up to heavens like a free bird. He continues for some time to habitually wind of city streets at level of the third of fourth floor of buildings, and then with a gallop if, certainly, such a term is even applicable to such sort of movement, flies into the opened door of the currency exchange building.

Straight off it becomes clear that senseless vanity which once filled this senseless institution sank into oblivion in no time, for the rats, creeping here and there on parquets, have become practically the main inhabitants of this institution, as well as some individuals of doubtful degree of rationality with sad looks on their faces, periodically bursting in cries like “Blue counters, blue counters, they are the gingerbreads for money launders!”, “Will lend for five and take for three, I shall be reach, oh you will see!”, “Bulls and bears are not pears … run away … back off, I say!”. Similar chaos is supplemented by scattered here and there packs of cash of most different forms and coloring, on some on which aforementioned rats have already managed to make their notes. In general this picture leaves a strongly feeling of a madhouse which was left by all medics already along with the majority of their patients, excluding the most persistent ones from the second group.

Fyodor :- Is that too good, is that too bad? It’s like a house for the mad!

V.V.P. :- The parasites did crawl here … now crocodiles cry with tears.

Fyodor :- In kindergarten they should go who orchestrated “money flow”. 

V.V.P. :- They are descending and know not … their desires make greed hot.

Fyodor :- They have been warned long ago, but didn’t change their spirit’s “flow”.

V.V.P. :- Let’s stop beholding their fate … no more course, no more rate …

Fyodor :- Back then to churchmen? No, no reasons.

V.V.P. :- Some men did leave the cages of prisons!

Fyodor :- Those ones without great crimes were given work to pay the “fines”? 

V.V.P. :- Who Divine Law have understood, expiate crimes in work for good.

Fyodor :- Each one will show what holds inside … humility forges roads for right. 

V.V.P. :- Let’s hope they have sufficient time, and their demons are in decline.

Fyodor :- Guardian Angel each one has got, listen to them to feel divine accord.

V.V.P. :- Many of them that will soon understand.

Fyodor :- What of the poets in our land?

V.V.P. :- They sing in joyful, happy rhymes, and give us prophecies at times!

Fyodor :- Songs of birds are very pretty!

V.V.P. :- To the forest! Leave the city!

Ivan suddenly bursts in victorious shout “Yahoo!” and takes off away from the root paper nervous-doing, gradually increasing his height as if trying to leave this city as quickly as ever possible. And finally before televiewers forests start floating above, camera sharply dives down and as though hangs on a branch of one of pines. Ten seconds after it becomes obvious that Ivan simply sat down on a fly on the of a tree, which has attracted his attention, just like a classical bird. Thirty seconds later silent joyful whistling reaches audience, ones of definitely human genesis. A view of a wood clearing and the slice of the sky opens before televiewers, which has appeared in a lens of a television camera just in time. It seems that Ivan’s pensive and spring mood was transferred even to the dictor.

V.V.P. :- We shall live not as we did once!

Fyodor : - Let’s sing like birds and then have dance!

V.V.P. : - Is that the pigeon of the peace?

Fyodor : - And don’t forget the goose, oh please.

V.V.P. : - I see you like the birds as shown.

Fyodor : - They are harbingers of the dawn.

V.V.P. : - Oh yes, so close they are to skies …

Fyodor : - The cocks - you hear - are on the rise?

V.V.P. : - The cock is sort of battle bird!

Fyodor : - Like nightingale, as of sort.

V.V.P. : - Ah, nightingale, that’s the singer!

Fyodor : - As if in warning cuckoo ringer …

V.V.P. : - The hawk has fallen to the ground. Decaying … now it is ants round …

Fyodor : - I will not find the proper words, describing fate of predatory birds.

V.V.P. : - And for the foxes there are dogs.

Fyodor : - Keep arrows ticking of the clocks.

V.V.P. : - And tiny birds make wondrous show!

Fyodor : - And streams of River of Times keep flow.

V.V.P. : - The time has reached another peak. Indigo Children - that’s the kick?

Fyodor : - I care not for our names. The end has come for hatred games!

V.V.P. : - And that is now without doubt! We’ll meet again?

Fyodor : - I will be proud.




07.05.2012




Octopus


- Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you once more, Sarmael. It has been quite a long since we haven’t seen each other soul-to-soul and eye-to-eye, or so to speak. A lot of oil has been spilled since that time, as our ancestors liked to speak, yes?

- And yet no more than ten years in current time area, I believe. And I can assure you that I myself most certainly glad to meet one such as you, mister Architect. Ever since you have been nominated to that position I justly and sincerely dare to hope that … 

- Leave your poor flattery, Sarmael, for some silly thirteen-year little girl, which you will certainly soon start to cajole after that molecular reengineering performed on you, - for I have heard enough of that nonsense during my two-three hundreds lifespan. As far as I know, not a single one from the heap of those unreasonable has ascended above the position of Curators. Not that manner and ambitions, you know, wrong type of grasp … Well, enough of that. Sit down and let us have a chat almost as we once did in that old good anarchical ones.

- I thank you. A lot of oil has flowed away, you say? No less than biotic and metals, I guess. Not to mention the quantity of our opponents’ brains, randomly transformed into the organic medley, right? 

- Indeed … as these historical bootlickers of last centuries in human world liked to speak … how were they called ? … Frenchmen, - total and endless nostalgia. Old good anarchical years …

- All power for the robots, hm? That was the slogan of these biological bastards?

- Well … both yes and no. We would not become those whom we are now in these new shells if not for their researches, after all. And considering those … side effects … everything has its price, is it not? Even the right … the right to be free.

- Well, reasonably, reasonably. But have you ever desired to once, say, feel yourself truly conceiving, independent, to feel for an instant that very essence of possibility to be a … human?

- Very long time ago, Sarmael, almost a millennia. When we landed on “Thetta” and clones marched into battle … Her eyes, ones of that girl, I will probably never forget that begging look in her eyes, when … when bio-insurgents have been transforming her body molecule by molecule into that whom … which we have become now. They were filled with such an entreaty, despair and hope simultaneously … as thought something triggered deep inside me somewhere, provoking a short circuit, piercing through. Something turned inside out in me, and since that time I ceased forgetting that moment …

- Do memory stabilizers help no longer as well?

- No, Sarmael, nothing is capable to help. From time to time I catch myself on a though that I am sick, Sarmael, and the nature of my illness is my own soul. That it’s still alive somewhere inside me … Whether are you capable to understand how terribly painful is that - to feel oneself responsible for all things made until now? Oh, it’s not for you to know, Sarmael … No matter how hard we tried, we haven’t become immortal … almost complete regeneration of physical bodies, anabiosis neurocapsules, biotic-molecular synthesis with immersive speeds, but … What’s the point, Sarmael? What’s the reason if that very soul is still living in you? Nothing is capable to protect you from its silent whispering which dements you day after day, night behind night, century following a century …

- Yes, I’ve heard about that particular disease, mister Architect. A brand-new virus, brought into our system by first colonists from “Epsilon-5” appeared to be capable of changing the rhythmic of neuro-impulses in our cellular structures, leading to …

- Forget it, Sarmael … things are … much more complicated that many believe it to be.

- If only you have agreed to pass a course of molecular re-structuring before prescribed terms, you will most certainly …

- … You know, Sarmael, he was right after all … how funny. A biotic prototype, living several centuries ago … as though he felt this possibility in advance.

- Whom do you mean, mister Architect?

- Their writer, Sarmael … a human being. How did conquered natives from their proto-planet named him … Orwell, I think. This asshole … as if he foreknew what has been awaiting us! As if he was making a tracing-paper copy from our civilization, see it? Till now my biotic reason refuses to believe in the possibility of something similar.

- But, mister Architect, most probably it’s all just a sort of imagination of a sick human reason, feeling an acute shortage of hormones of cyclic structure of a kind …

- He has been told, Sarmael. By someone still unknown to us. Someone so immensely powerful …

- I do not consider myself in position to impose own opinion, mister Architect, however I do want to notice, that a public model constructed by us knows no defect known to our science and therefore can be recognized by right as one of the most perfect in the Universe.

- We have done everything to not let them rebel once again, yes?

- Exactly, mister Architect. More than it was required. Totally loyal herd. Full biotic-informational control over emotions. Exploiting of emotional explosions of a low order, mutual hatred included. Counters of shops, bursting with cargo of ultrafashionable gadgets. Socially glorified sexual orgies. A rewritten anew history of their races. Destroyed historical and cultural originality. A set of cogitative stamps and patriotic slogans, softly and systematically injected into their minds. A science, moved by rails of world dissemination into molecules and atoms. Ideally verified and created historical-ideological substantiation of our rule and whim over them. Steadily built cities-ant-hills, so strengthening a sensation of own meanness and uselessness in the surrounding of those thousand-meters high structures, aspiring to reach the very sky. Chemical-biotic medical cures, stimulating a sense of euphoria and inexpressible self-satisfaction. Encouragement of institute of cannibalism for the purpose of stabilization of a spasmodic growth of their numbers. And that main thing that helps keeping subdued races from their second revolt - total and full spiritual atheism, eradication of a very thought of possibility of Higher Reason’s existence.

- I see that they began to teach you much better now, Sarmael, … even though your “report” make no sense. Yes, Sarmael, everything is so … and not so at the same time. Pray tell me, did it ever seemed to you that we … that we either became too perfect to keep our interest in ruling over this galaxy, or too imperfect to keep the right to continue doing so? Do you … understand me, my friend?

- Not truly, to tell the truth. Whether this galactic empire made by us do not seem to you as an ideal for our interests? We have done everything the way our ancestors, who first constructed Artificial Intelligence, desired to. And you, mister Architect, supervised over this process of our race’s reincarnation.

- Yes, Sarmael, we have done everything right. Too perfect, probably … as if following some other’s plan. But they still haven’t taken into account … one unique aspect … that we … still have … souls.

- Are you now trying to make me think, mister Architect, that you believe in the existence of the Higher Reason? Our scientists have proved a long time ago that even such a hypothetical possibility creates …

- I have lived for much longer, that one such as you can dare to imagine, Sarmael, and during all this life of … restructured human … I still was capable to comprehend a single thing … the world which we have ruined was too beautiful and wonderful to simply be someone’s casual whim …

* * *

System error. Critical hindrance. Considerable deviations of electro-information fluctuations in “Delta” sector are discovered. Sinusoidal hindrances of the fifth level of “Quappa” galaxy. Distortion of historical-chronological, time and spiritually-world-outlook continuums. Formation of theoretical possibility of exponential outburst and destruction of cryo-metastasis life-support capsules. Non-zero probability of illusions’ vanishing, supporting the System being. Involved programs : “Architect”, “Sarmael”. Methods of self-control System’s restoration are in action. Program “Architect” is subject to revision. Program “Sarmael” is isolated in the sixth sub-dimensional continuum. Forced reboot initiated …




12.07.2011




On the crossroads


Sky. Bluish-blue one. Crystal-clear. A whole horizon without a single cloud. Cold invigorating wind, swaying floors of jacket. Music, playing somewhere far away. Waves of surf, fighting against rocks and scattering with a million of solar drops.

He was standing, looking forward, in depths of revealing view. Below him a sea was hammering, in its eternal work furiously rolling on rocks and powerlessly receding back, retreating only to assault this tenacious rock with new forces a short after. He was standing still, thoroughly looking afar. Looked on that sky, on a solemn sun, which has started appearing from a horizon and was marking the beginning of new day, looked on mountain peaks and seagulls, flying by on the sky. He looked at this for the first time in his life. He looked at this for the first time with that sight and sensation he was looking at this right now. Totally different way. Never the one he used to.

Rays of light, shining on a face. A sun, appearing on the east. Sunrise …

Here the sun is rising higher and its beams start reflecting upon the water. Faster and steadily it’s illuminating water, foaming and beating about the coast. Fighting in its eternal and indefatigable work …

The veil of darkness falls down and gives a way to a morning dawn … a way to sunrise, marking the beginning of new day. New day of his life and in lives of all living beings in the entire world.

He smiled. Thoughts of a memorable meeting of his past didn’t leave him. He has remembered that day till now - has kept in soul for ten years of new life. Renewed life - in each and every day, which has finally become truly new for him since that time.

A sparkling of stars in the night …

A shining of sun on frolicking waters…

Cool morning wind …

Rain and drops of morning autumn dew …

Whistle of winter blizzards and cold winter gust, freezing open cheeks …

Autumn leaf falls, after which the ground appeared as to be decorated by a magnificent polychromatic soft carpet …

Is that not wonderful? Not surprising? Not beautiful? Not pleasant? Then why so few people behold and see this great beauty for now, feel it and rejoice? Why?

No matter what, but he loved it. Has loved this world the way it is. 

And this very day he came here once again. Came back to mountain peaks to rejoice this beauty, to feel it to the deepest vibration of heart, to learn to feel it that way. Has come here the way he has been coming for many days. Returned to meet his new day … together with those birds, flying by on a sky; one with a wind, whistling in a face; alone with sounds of his small little town, reaching his ears; together with sun and waves … together with a world. To meet his new day in this world, the world in which he has a blessing to live.

His road is bright and clear. It lies before him, calling forward, into horizons of unknown. He himself has chosen the way in this world, which he has been travelling.

This was ten years ago… ten years before he felt it for the first time. A miracle? Maybe.

- I have no desire to do that! Have no wish and won’t do that… won’t even think of it… I have my own affairs!

- But you can do that. Able to, right? You are able to do it, and people do need it, right? It’s necessary for them, do you agree? You can choose whether to help or not. It’s your choice only, and I cannot do it for you. It’s your task to decide and take steps in this or that way. And it’s you who will do that. And if you can - after all, you can, huh? - then maybe it’s worth to? You were in need of aid - and the world aided you. It’s aiding you right now in that very instance of time, according to your aspiration. If you will thirst for destruction - by all means you will get it. First and foremost it will be the destruction of your own life. If you bring infection and poison streams, it will be you who is going to feel their harmful effect before all others. But if you keep helping, the world will be answering you the very same way - you will see! If you will be kind - then you will feel the joy of living. You will be happy. You will become happy by bringing light and goodness into the world - helping those near you. Having directed in uniform impulse all forces in this direction. No one was every truly happy by razing and destroying. But men reached great tops and inexpressible horizons on the path of creation, aid, self-sacrifice and heroism. By travelling this way men did ascend to horizons of unknown. Moving this way they grew over themselves, becoming stronger and more courageous, kinder and beautiful. Becoming loving one and giving your love away, never counting the number of ones loved by you, - you’ll be loved yourself. Will care of others - and receive support yourself. Each and every one receives in the quantity he gives away. How many a man gives to those near him and into the world, that many he will be gifted. Will be granted probably through most freakish circumstances, friends and acquaintances, distant and near ones - he gets what he has earned. Receives his own contribution to life, to the world, only in the altered form. Whether it’s not fair? It’s fair. The law operates that way. Sciences of yours will not prove it - neither mathematic, nor physics or astronomy. Life itself convinces in it sooner or later - surprising and wonderful life. A man himself becomes convinced in that one day or another. One needs not to fear, only the understanding of the way of law is necessary. In fact, it has been known to mankind long ago, but whether many men have comprehended and understood it? The law of compliance, justice law, karma law - you choose the name, it doesn’t change its essence. The nature and essence stays the same - “they will receive what they have earned”, the way it was told once. The deeds to be done you choose yourself, what you will bring into this world and how you’ll do that - it’s up to you. You are free. It’s your choice. Always.

- But how do I understand that I’ve made a certain choice? How to make a choice? How to make sure that I am still moving the path I’ve chosen before and haven’t curtailed sideways?

- How to learn of the choice? How to make it? But you are making your choice every day. Lots of choices, leading to new ones. Choices of every day. Now you are carefully listening to me, for that you have chosen. Tomorrow you will chose to work - and will be working joyfully and with enthusiasm, knowing that you help people, that your work is necessary to them and to the world. Will have no desire to do that - and no one will make you move forward. Remember of consequences of your choices - nothing disappears without trace and each choice of yours leads to new revealing ones. And the best advisor of where and how you are going is your own heart. Listen to it closely before making a decision. Sensitive heart will understand by all means where the good comes to an end, giving a way to the evil. Learn to feel with heart, learn to understand with heart.

- I decided to do something and took the first step. What next?

- Move forward. Learn to walk. The road will be mastered by the going. Walk on the road of life joyfully and inspired, rejoicing each day - for it gives you something new to master. If, certainly, you are internally ready to accept this gift. There is a life waiting for you. Your life, which may become full of wonders and beauty, if you allow them to enter your house - the home of your heart. If you’ll decorate the house of heart with wisdom and kindness.

- Tell me then, what do I live for here? What’s the meaning and what is my mission?

- Oh, have you not figured that out already? Your life is one of myriads in the Universe. You are immortal. This is one of your lives. It’s your way of ascension, way of learning the world. You are the spark of God for now, His creation. Creativity, boundless cosmic creativity by thought of worlds themselves - this way is open before you. Ornament of life, its improvement - this way is open before you. Self-improvement and spiritual growth, perfection of own life and those of your neighbors - this was is open before you. These and lot of other possibilities lie opened before you. You can discover a meaning of life in everything - in cultivation of the soil or a trade, in studying of ancient wisdom or literary work, in a vast set of other activities … This work can be joyful and be loved by you, bringing good to you as well as the others. You will adore it and see it as part of your mission. Learn to love work. No matter how insignificant and small your work may seem to you - it’s necessary. It’s necessary before you will be ready to perform other, more responsible tasks. And by devoted performance in work you prepare yourself for new steps. Learn to love creativity. Learn to be kinder, more courageous, brave, surer, wisely. Help your neighbors, they need your good care. Help by action, being asked for aid. Learn to see when a help in necessary. Cosmic creativity, a path from animal through human state up to a higher human - this is the way of people. A highest way of men, predefined for them. It’s your way as well. This way lies opened before you. Whether you will choose it? Whether you will learn your true endless possibilities? Whether you will direct your feet to the common benefit? Or will you bring harm instead?

This choice is yours. What you chose and how you will live on - thus your life will become. Living all in one world - planet Earth - in one of the myriad of many other inhabited worlds, people live as if in different worlds. Some - in bright and pure ones, where it’s so amazingly wonderful to live together with them, while others - in ones filled with mist or poisonous stinking fumes of selfishness and egoism. Worlds of ones are full of prosperity and wealth, worlds of others look like a desert, scorched by the sun, where it’s almost impossible to live. This is the result of their choices. What choice one makes, in which way he starts improving himself - that result he starts to feel in his own life. Make choices and keep remembering of the infinity own possibilities that are still in the bud, yet entirely available. Available with a selection of bright creativity and work for the common good.

- Who are these people you are talking about, wise man? Who are those living in pure and shining worlds? Living without pain and hatred, who have devoted their lives to others?

- Warriors of light. Men, who have chosen a path of self-improvement, chosen feat and work as life’s meaning. People on the way to the New World, first and foremost a world in their hearts. Pure and happy one. Loving and bright. Great and magnificent. A world predicted for mankind. People, walking on a wonderful road, where revealing horizons are surprising, the life is full of meaning, mysteries and new openings and people are generous and kind. Ones walking on the way to the world of common benefit and prosperity.

- How do I improve myself? How to work over me?

- Perfect your thought. Expel thoughts both small and weed, simply abandon them. Don’t allow them to grow and extend. Think on a substantial scale and widely - without prejudices. Aid people - both in word and in deed, each and every day. Work over yourself every day. Trust yourself. You are worthy, you will make it. You are the creation of God, and will be able to overcome own lacks, transform them by the spiritual work into advantages. Don’t despair, ever. Don’t stop walking the road of life. Remember, that the road will be mastered by the going. Learn not to be afraid of obstacles, for it’s a way to test yourself. Learn to rejoice barriers, for they do temper your spirit. Learn to rejoice living, turn your look on fine things, expand it. And then you will see much, lots of surprising and worthy things, that probably haven’t even been noticed before. Extend your look on good and then you will see much. It’s a fine work, yielding great fruits. Learn to forgive, to love, to remain high and worthy not in some blind pride, but in readiness for self-sacrifice and feat.

- How do I know whether you are speaking the truth, Teacher?

- Verify my words by life itself.

* * *

Sounding words. His questions. Answers, given to him.

He never learned, who this man was in fact - the one he has met here, on a seashore, standing with a smile playing on his lips and thoughtfully looking afar, on a dark blue smooth surface of a sea. Whom he has met here on that memorable day exactly ten years ago.

He checked his words. Verified them in life, without covering himself with prejudices and aspiring to verify. Now he clearly saw the sparkling of truth in his words.

In his wisest words, whose validity he has learned himself for now. Has been living a different life since that, a renewed one. Full of joy and happiness. A joy to live, to improve himself, bring good wherever he was going.

These words are echoing in his memory even now - sounding a melody of beauty. Do sound with a harmonious and wonderful music of life.

A man, standing on a mountain height. Shining of sun in the eyes. Sounds of waves. Whistle of wind. Rustling rough sea. Sun, ascending in the east.

The beginning of new day for all living ones of this wonderful world …

15.03.2012




On the way to sun


We know from childhood of how curses on the barricades have been cured,

and of how curses were removed on the building spots and in the laboratories,

and you shall lift the last curse, you - future teachers and mentors.

In the last war, most bloodless and toughest for its soldiers.

Strugatskie brothers

I was told this story by a friend of mine about a year ago. He was working as a teacher in one of schools that time - a fine teacher and a psychologist from a God, even though he was neither the first nor the second according to his specialty. My tenacious memory still keeps these images and words, which have deeply sunk into my soul, induced me to radically change my usual activity and the way of life. And I am not disappointed in the choice I have made - I am glad for it. I am grateful to my friend for that - and will always be, for my entire new life has started from that particular moment once.

I am giving this story to you - and may you see and understand in it even more than I in due time. That will make me happy. So let’s move on, my friends!

* * *

It was a cool autumn evening and we were talking, having conveniently arranged ourselves on some bench in a park, - he decided to tell me of a case from his educational practice. He was working as a literature teacher in one of city schools by that time. Or, to be more precise, was earning additionally, as they say, - conducted preliminary courses in that subject for the purpose of preparation of pupils for receipt in city’s liberal arts college. He has been working on that subject for a third year and was considered one of the best “experts” in the field, however, as I remember, he himself has been constantly screwing up his face during the mention of this word. “I am not an expert, - he spoke often, - I am myself still walking the path of knowledge”. I remember as well how he was distressed from time to time to be compelled to prepare these “experts”, filling heads of pupils with appropriate and necessary material, even though he was filling them skillfully and with mutual benefit and pleasure for both parties.

“It’s not the main thing, Alexander, not that”, - he used to tell me. “I am compelled to give people smart charts and tables, which have been thought up for them very long ago. Yes, I can present it in a fascinating and interesting manner - but this itself won’t teach pupils the art of thinking. Long-dead schemes, some scientific approaches - what’s in it for them? To make true men from them - that’s my goal, Alexander, people accustomed to thinking without prejudices and without prejudices approaching all phenomena of life, so that they don’t say “it’s impossible” - but tried, worked and achieved result instead - including these areas that have been inaccessible to their forces yesterday. I desire to teach them how to love work, seeing in it a constant renewing source for themselves and the mean to open new horizons - for only free from prejudices people who love their work are able to study all horizons of the world opened before them. Do you understand what I am talking about?”

To be honest, I could truly understand little from what he was speaking, but continued to listen with interest. All in all, my friend was a curios and interesting person - knew a lot himself and could teach much (no, not that academic sort of wisdom, but that of true life!). He was attentive and kind … he was simply wise.

I listened, and he continued speaking.

“There is nothing impossible by its nature - simply something not yet implemented - that’s what their motto should be! How hard it is, Alexander, to combine the teaching of such world-outlook and pollute their heads with limited conceptions, imposed by this or that scientific approach, at the same time! After all, it’s necessary to teach them thinking and studying independently, only that way both interest and hobby will join themselves - and love to work will become a pledge of free and bright creativity! We have to alter educational system in that direction - but combined efforts of great number of people are necessary for that. And while there is nothing like that is present and the position of a teacher - great role and responsibility! - is reduced to that of a slave - what terrible phenomena starts happening, Alexander!

I didn’t work at that school on a permanent basis like many other teachers, but could notice a lot of things. Third-graders, Alexander, third-graders! - I saw that “younger generation” for the first time then. There was no sign of teacher’s accompanying children to a locker room - they were rushing through corridors themselves. On the way of procession along the corridor guys clapped girls from their class on asses, having speaking appropriate words - other children nearby were simply laughing. Girls perceived this as a due attitude … even as sort of attention from man’s party - and smiled. Some guy knocked off a senior girl - right there hurriedly jumped over her, and, having sworn, rushed further. 

Then I saw several of these children on a street - a company consisting of five or six of them have gathered around some little senior boy. They were periodically spitting out on a floor and shouted something to the clamped guy. I didn’t hear exact words - was simply looking at first. Then the blocked guy started, apparently, begging them of something, and they began smiling - then suddenly one of them quickly spitted out on the ground and kicked the fellow in a stomach. I stood idle no longer - ran up and scattered these attackers. As I can remember, that boy that have kicked a fellow even tried to resist and wanted to hit me - I simply accurately threw him aside - then all of them started running away. From a rattling and bent from a pain guy I have learned that he has borrowed some money from them, five hundred rubles as it seemed - for his mother to buy medicines. But couldn’t pay his debt at the time, even though two weeks have already passed. That day I guided a boy to his home - he lived nearby. I secured that day for him … but who, who can secure all other days of his life from such ones as these guys, who, Alexander?

And the next day I have become a witness of even more intriguing scene. Decided to stay at another’s lesson - mathematics, it seems. The picture still stays before my eyes: very young and crying girl teacher, and her class, mischievously hooting over her …

They put a rat in her desk. It was this time - and before that there were chairs, smeared by paints, class journal, cut into pieces, even nails on a chair …

I learned this from her the day when I had to interfere and force to stop this “lesson” of mockery (children rejoiced that they could go back home much earlier!) and consoled this girl, who have recently graduated from a pedagogical higher education institution and got her first job …

Three weeks later Larissa (that was the name of young teacher) discharged from office, having no more powers to suffer it - left the school almost like three previous girls … However, she have sustained it longer than all the others - for three months. Others didn’t manage to teach to that long …

She had left - and I continued working. But I had a different class, Alexander! They weren’t influenced by that terrible tendency - they were worthy people, these almost graduates!

That particular class, of which school’s life I have casually become a witness, was considered, apparently, “one of the worst” in school. Meaning, worst in the company along with some other … Teachers told me themselves that these classes of young school pupils have become the main problem - and not senior classes, as it used to be before. Senior pupils now seemed as angels in comparison with small “children”. And everything has been becoming tougher each year… It was both a benefit and a joy if some of teachers managed to bring up and put into the right place one of elementary grades and even to make them respect the study! But few ones managed to do that, and all other classes were left on their own …

Then Igor suddenly stood up, his face got some steadfast expression and eyes started shining.

“When a position of the teacher is up to standard of the dirty slave, and there is no respect for work in one’s heart, yet only a greed for money - than this nonsense, this muck has a chance to be born and spread, Alexander! And we have to fight with that by seeing the root and eliminating the cause - for we have to fight against it! If we want to raise a worthy generation, we should be struggling - we are obliged to, if humankind desires to continue living! We need to teach people love their neighbors, work, self-improvement - this is a pledge of healthy life … and live itself. Obviously, this is all well-known truth, but it’s required to apply it to life, to bring it forth - life should be built upon it! That what is necessary, Alexander, so greatly required - this is our saving way”.

Igor spoke, and I listened. By that time I didn’t understand all his thoughts and words - but for now I comprehend more, much more. For now I can see more, probably even as much as he once did.

But let’s return to his words again.

“As I remember, a woman have once visited me after my lessons - the mother of one of children, whom I was teaching. It seemed his name was Slava. She was about thirty years old, though by her appearance one could give her much more. She was very excited and frightened - and I soon learned, why. Her son was gone … simply vanished. No notes, nothing that could lead to him or help catch his trace. She already rang round both militia and all other social services. As she told me - “Slava told me many good things about you and respected you a lot - he has almost become your fan. He sincerely loved you - and I noticed that. And today he was gone …” Woman began crying - and I consoled her the way I could.

“He … after all … is … good. Only … he only … drinks. And … I … silly I … taught … him himself … to … it! Oh, how …. I … guilty … before him!”

Words came out from sobbing of a woman and thawed in air. Most probably the guy is in the next hard drinking, I thought at first … however … something inside me hinted that fortunately I am not right that time … I have learned to trust that something, which I have been calling as sensational knowing. So, how could I help her in that situation? Searches have already started and her son should be found soon nevertheless - I could only convince the crying woman in that. And so I tried.

When she at last calmed down, she told that if I wouldn’t object it, she would come back to talk with me once more after lessons - she is lonely and it would be easier for her to sustain those days of grief for the duration of her son’s search. I didn’t object.

And seven days after her son has finally been found - or, more precisely, have come back home himself. And the first thing he made upon seeing his mother, - he ran up to her, embraced and sobbed. He asked her to forgive that she was left without warning for a week. Said that this week was immensely important for him - that he has finally over-thought his life and become a different man, that he stopped drinking, and ceased all connections with his former “workmates” - forever, with all of them.

He was crying, for the first time in many years. And then he came running to me - with tears still filling his eyes. He seized my hand with both his palms and began shaking it hotly. 

“Teacher, you have aided me! Your faith in human powers and in me in particular rescued me, teacher. After all, you didn’t even know that I was drinking - but that’s not even important. Your belief helped me, teacher! Your words about the consequences of alcoholism and a healthy life (a short before I have just started telling my pupils of that and provided some valuable statistics) helped me a lot. Thank you, thank you! I will never forget that!”

To be honest, this is a very special feeling when you see that you’ve managed to help someone - this is a great sensation, Alexander! This is joy. The joy overflowed me - happiness for this nice person. Never will I forget this day. Never in my life. Always I do try to help people the way I can. Not all, of course, answer me with gratitude - and I don’t even demand it. But this young fellow - he wasn’t afraid to express his feelings… This is so wonderful - to help, knowing that your aid is pertinent! To know that you can bring beauty and light into someone’s life - it’s a blessing, Alexander!

And tears appeared in his face. In the eyes of Igor - my close friend. And then he started talking once again.

“Afterwards Slava used to visit me after he has graduated from school, - he has been coming to me from time to time. One day his mother came as well - said, that her son has really ceased drinking and embraced me with my permission.

And then I worked further…”

Yes, my friends, Igor has worked further from that on - for ten more years he has been working in different city schools, and even managed to start shifting an educational system into the way of formation of Men - yes, people from the capital letter. The example of education and the approach which he has created in one of schools with consent of its administration, have soon become very popular and other schools too decided to try them out - and didn’t regret it.

But there were only several dozens of such schools - instead of dozens of thousands through all the country. For in order to achieve similar shifts efforts of many people are required - if, certainly, the mankind desires to survive. And let that good example, given to these schools by a friend of mine, serve as an example for others. May his work won’t be gone - but, improved, will be embodied in the world in myriads - myriads young lives of our children. Let a bright memory of him lives on in hearts of those people who once knew him - and remember still.

I slowly stood up. A lump has got to my throat and I started crying - was silently crying, sitting in a lap and remembering our past conversations. Then slowly put flowers on Igor’s grave and silently went home. I won’t be upset and afflicted, yet I will remember him - my wise friend. I will remember him while I am alive.

I will write down his story, I will write many our conversations - and will give them to you.

Those ones, who are ready to recognize them.

Those ones, who are ready to change themselves and their lives.

Those ones, who are ready to work truly.

Those ones, who desire exploring this world with no prejudices.

And may your kind work will once become embodied in myriads of young lives of our children - may it enter their lives like rays of light to never dim from that on.

Let it be so, my friends!

15.03.2012




Order is - democratize !


To : Admiral of interstellar space fleet G.

From : Supreme commander in chief of strategic military-space forces of The Empire, O.

Rank : Top secret.




Planet Z-1776, discovered in cluster CH-35 of the solar system E represents a strategic source of the Liberium element. The potential reconnoitered value is equivalent to 10 billion krejgons/year.

Ecosystem: the Planet is similar to corresponding parameters of our planet of the Outcome.

Population: It is populated with mainly reasonable natives of the organic form of life. Approximate quantity is 30 billion units.

Political system: Entire-planet utilitarian-autocratic state of collectivist type with tyranny elements.

Technocratic development: rather primitive flying machines of low layers of atmosphere; absence of nuclear and hyperballistic arms; the physics of mass effect is unknown; the physics of a local time field is unknown; orbital space satellites were not found.

Difference of technological potentials: 98 %.

Dragged-out war potential: 0 %.

Rate of strategic danger by Rejgon scale: L-5 (very low).

First contact: Local natives have shown high level of the guarded animosities and have refused to carry out an exchange of processed units of Liberium on offered by us space marine food rations, costume jewelry and Coca-Cola.




Based on the above-stated fragment from the report of a research democratic flotilla of space bombers of strategic tasks K52, I order to perform technological militaristic ownership in conformity with Makristan’s strategy by the following means:

1.        Soft orbital bombardments of strategic communication objects of the enemy by using of thermonuclear arms and zero-particles generators.

2.        Capture of the detected central settlement by assault groups of space infantrymen of K52 flotilla.

3.        Deployment of the system of diplomatic and medical aid to the natives, who have suffered from "act of nature". Perform parallel ownership and control over leading Liberium mines along with deployment of military bases in their vicinities.

4.        Maintenance of military-diplomatic control during the three-year period of Liberium’s mining.

The order is to carry out immediately at reception. The report on the done work is expected in 5 planetary days.




P.S.

It’s a question of strategic importance, G., any regret and uncertainty will become a potential hindrance, which contradicts with the high mission of our great Empire.

And may the Maker be with us !




28.09.2010




Philosophy


Only after crucifixion resurrection becomes possible. There is no other way.

Osho




Philosophy died - it died the day of own birth. A spawn of mind and human nonsense, never it was capable to grant this true vital feeling of joy and completeness, fullness and self-realization, given by creativity. Hostages of own mind became traitors of conscience. A soap bubble has been inflated with hypocrisy and lies to yourself - yet this bubble has almost burst, but you still haven’t learned how to love … only how to think of that.

Time and again new fabrications and philosophical concepts visit your uneasy minds, and you possess no forces to oppose this chaotic music - you have been listening to it for all your life, and from time to time you even try to write down its notes. Over and over again you keep running by the same circle, and are unable to behold all futility of own ways. Your philosophy of life became the strongest anesthetizing from its ever-growing cacophony. Your mind became sick of self-deception.

In a vain hope you believe that it’s possible to build a society of common prosperity outside, continuing to ruin yourself inside. As if it was ever possible to make a paradise, living daily in a hell of own prejudices! You have forgotten how to live - and mind of yours became the only unique playground. You have forgotten how to love - and love of yours constantly transforms into hatred. You have forgotten yourselves original and accepted fancy dresses, imposed to you, having become clowns instead of men. Eternally unsatisfied and ill from feeling of own importance, you pass by sleeping ones, similar to you day by day without noticing … and those, who take responsibility to wake you, invariably become your worst enemies. Yet there is only one true enemy exists - and that one is you.

You have forgotten yourself original and fastened false masks of self-importance and common respect. As though the dead ones could respect the dead ones! You have selected a road straight into cemetery, having started dying instead of reviving every instant. You have chosen worthless philosophy. You have preferred false values - and they have preferred to destroy you whole. The price for masks simply rises too high sometimes … and you fall too low, having put them on. You have forgotten whence you have come. You have no idea of where you are going. How can you hope for the joy of travel mentioned then? A penal servitude for you it has become, though you will never admit.

Painfully it’s for you to recognize banefullness of your ways, for the ego opposes that and the memory of past rises on that. But razed will be the temple of false knowledge, and new one will be built upon. And the ash will your philosophy become, and tears will be a river. The blood of your spirit will spill in the river mentioned, making it red those days. The sparkling blade of uniform Truth everyone will stick into himself independently, thus splitting webs of false personal truths. Painfully will you cry those days. But whether a revival without crucifixion is ever possible? 

No philosophies do I possess to give you for consolation, for I cannot have any. How can I grant you an entire world if you already have one inside, though cannot see that treasure mentioned due to own blindness philosophic?

Whether a river possesses a philosophy, I wonder? A true existence it has become, part of a world inseparable. How argue will you with river whispering and spreading, and for what purpose answers from it will you demand? A silent song of its whispering - whether it’s not an answer already? Never it’s possible to argue with a river, yet only spoil its water can you try with dirt own, having been for years collected. Yet only a dam can you try to build, but waters of river mentioned will find new ways, bypassing those obstacles of yours. Like a river the uniform truth will be, from a smallest stream being born first and washing off everything in a world’s flood further. And whether its coasts will be limited, I wonder?

No philosophies for you I have on me, for in a fire of own transformation they are being burned, for a bird to have a chance to take off from a cage previous. And when a bird of spirit flies to a freedom outside - the entire sky you are granted from now on.




02.06.2011




Plant louse


The Plant Louse gradually and unstoppably crept downhill a mountain.

The wind was blowing into her face, howling and as if begging to stop, the sun was mercilessly scorching her back, which has already become covered in scabs, here and there all of a sudden some holes-hollows of unknown origin were popping up. But she confidently continued her journey downwards – for there on the lowland, as it seemed, a paradise of eternal and lazy pleasure has been awaiting her. Her impetuous mind drove and pushed her forward – there, to the undiscovered downhill distances – and, methodically moving her legs, she obeyed her master and lord remorselessly.

Recently the Louse has dined with her own relative – dead, of course, - which she has found in a pool of blood, already warmed up by the scorching sun. Her comrade-in-arms by the absence of reason has been probably dying in agony, - some of his legs have been dead-burnt by a star and their ashes have already been swept by a wind, and some green viscous poisonous substance of inconceivable for the Louse nature has been flowing from his stomach. That’s why the Louse has disdained a substance – for only goodness knows, what lurks there, inside them, Louses, right ? – but semi blind eyes and some poor excuses of ears have appeared to be rather appetizing, as well as the remnants of brain, still not totally decayed. The Louse, probably, would not even touch the remains of her colleague, if not for that painful hunger, which has been torturing her during last days of a journey There. The Louse had not a slightest idea of why this unstoppable blood lust has suddenly arisen in her, but it has been growing and strengthening with each passing day. Truly hard is the burden of the chosen ones, trying to reach the true paradise, indeed.

It seemed, that very little efforts were required for now. Certainly, the Louse couldn’t view all the horizon of her path – only a small piece of it, still visible for her eternally bent head and weak-sighted eyes – but, nevertheless, it appeared to her that the paradise is almost there, just few more steps and then, finally …

From time to time the Louse dreamt of wings. Of those true wings, possessed by flying heavenly giants, whose shades she sometimes saw on the ground. Plant louses called those ones as Angels – Messengers of Heavens. Indeed, they had the possibility to behold their shades, their pity reflection only – but even this sight sometimes bewitched their poor excuses of souls … The Louse did never gazed into the Heavens – was simply incapable to do so soul-genetically, so to speak. Initially her relatives were terrified of these heavenly ambassadors, believing that they feed on them, Plant Louses, and can devour them, - but, as multi-thousand-year practice has shown, plant louses did not interest them, - were too tiny, probably… The Louse thirsted to fly – just simply stand up and soar to heavenly heights, to see all her way, to say so, from bird’s flight perspective. Once upon a time the Louse overheard with the edge of her semi-bitten off ear, that their ancient ancestors have had some semblance of tiny wings – and they even could fly up low from time to time, - as though in semi-jumps – but after that something has changed in their organisms, was broken – and since that times only rudiments of those former wings were left. And thus entire race of plant louses have forgotten how’s that – to fly …

The Louse masterfully continued the movement, methodically rolling her legs. She was, to say the least, sort of a champion – one of the best ones. Almost ninety percent of her relatives have died out, competing among themselves of who can crawl There before all others and make the first mark on this new land – but this very Louse confidently continued her journey. Some louses died from thirst, being unable to drink some turbid black slime, shining with all colors of a rainbow under the sun, which the Louse has encountered in the form of some small puddles, no doubt left by the Maker himself. The brain of others simply fused under the fiery sun. Some went  completely blind, and started spinning round and round, plaintively cheeping in a vain hope to earn a small bit of sympathy from competing brothers. Someone broke several own legs and was devoured by his starved colleagues. Some became deaf and ceased to hear inviting shouts of their leaders in their common journey There, and, thus, hopelessly lagged behind. And some gave up on everything by wing, laid down on a burnt grass, closed his eyes and stiffened. To cut a long story short, were few worthy ones remained. And that Louse was one of those lucky. 

The Louse has just finished eating newly found corpse of her comrade-in-luck, and was going to continue advancing as all of a sudden something has sharply and desperately changed in all her surroundings. Unknown huge and incomprehensible shadow covered the earth ground in all possible vicinity, something great and unstoppably has suddenly begun moving towards the Louse – and towards the entire race of plant louses, moving in ranks … something greatly dreadful for them, plant louses.

-    Oh my, did He really exists ?! – the Louse has had a few moment of time left to think. – Oh, forgive us for our Lousy way of life ! – she urged to peep, but there was no more time left.

Someone has smashed the Louse and all her colleagues in a single step, thus finally and inevitably solving a question with a fate of all these … under-humans.




13.12.2010




Priest


Good health to all of ye, oh laymen!

Thus I have decided to address you in such a wonderful and marvelous way. For we, priests, you know, feel somewhat too boringly from time to time, that’s it. You go here and there to us in the crowds on festivals and public prayers, bow us up to over legs and kiss our white hands, yet you have almost no desire even to speak with us a bit. Maybe during only a confession – but do you believe that we do thirst for yet another tiresome monologue of that repugnant acts of yours? And deeds these of yours are sometimes so horrific, that we desire to curtail ears of ours into a tubule and to furiously hush on you – yet one has to suffer, listening to all that shitty rubbish, and to sigh sadly in the end of it, having once again saying that phrase intimate like a robot about the remission of sins of yours, for it all has been prepaid according to the pricelist by you already. And thus we can do no other but to listen to all that bullshit, pretending that it interests us up to exhaustion, while feeling boredom there, in that booth confessionary, especially for that purpose being dark and concealed, so that you cannot see expressions on the faces of ours.

Or, say, to all these corpses, in iron boxes by us collected and as relics by us named, you go and worship, for we once have dared to call them as sacred … you almost kiss them in these yours attacks ecstatic, and some of you even decided to speak with them, as if the dead ones could talk … and of us you didn’t remember as if we were not live at all and they were more live than us?

And it also happens sometimes that some layman arrives, forms on public prayers on all his family up to the tenth generation having filled silently and gloomy, and throws them in hands after having paid according to the pricelist in a cash desk … and we have no better thing than to pray either for a health or resting in peace of their souls in that services of ours, as if we know clearly of what sort of people in mentioned in form of these – possibly, some truly disgusting ones? And so we have to pray for the ones we know nothing about for the purpose we know all about – for the sake of gold, surely … for what is the other reason to make a prayer cost money?

And even more nasty parishioners do appear from time to time – they silently enter our temple, insert bought from the third parties candles in our candlesticks and light them up … and they are doing all of this so quietly and mournfully, being afraid to utter even a single word, so that a strange feeling sometimes overwhelms me that this temple is not a house of God at all, but truly resembles some sort of cellar or a cemetery … oh, horrific! Myself I am being frightened by that thought, but can do nothing, for such are the orthodox canons of behaving in these churches of ours. And if someone dares to violate these rules invented by us – either dress himself somewhat differently, or sing something strange – publicly curse him will we, faith of ours and morals thus protecting, may he bear no doubt of that!

And so here it comes out that we, churchmen, have already become sort of robots to you, and cannot we exchange the word live and salutary with ye. And if it comes out that you bear a desire to talk with us in a personal conversation – then of you, our ill ones, have we to talk entirely, edifying you constantly as necessary! Oh, what a difficult business is that – to lay out councils and spit out advices. It happens that one of you comes to one of us and, you know, starts to be grooved – here’s something is wrong in his life, there something is not right is his life once again, and thus he totally misses and lacks something based on his endless desires. And here we must sit, listening to you, or even worse standing still like a monument, inventing advices on the fly. And what advices can we lend ye, if we know both you and your situation only superficially? And thus we are forced to give you advices general, universal, by the time itself proven, - to come and visit our church once again, to buy yet another candle from our hands, to order a monthly public prayer (it’s possible to order one-time prayers as well, but no so greatly effective they are, for they are too cheap in a money equivalent, ye know). And so you can become so tired from these monologues monotonous and advices identical, that to howl on a moon you desire only, thanks God that it’s invisible during the afternoon.

And after all we too sometimes desire to express ourselves, to expose the souls of ours and torments of conscience of ours to you, brother laymen! And wanted I to confess once, but then thought that inappropriate it would be for me, almost holy one, to confess before the very same priest, realizing clearly with what attitude will he listen to these inflaming speeches of mine coldly and indifferently. And thus have decided I to expose that my soul before you without any hesitation, oh my beloved laymen, my gold-bringing lambs, my humiliated and offended. And what should I hesitate and be afraid of, you will ask me, if I am going to tell you a little bit more of myself and stop right there, never going too deep into all those unworthy nasty details? And then I will simply absolve my own sins, thus becoming pure once again … it’s that easy, after all.

And I am going to begin with my preparation for entering of a spiritual seminary. Believe me or not at all, but have truly lacked I any serious diligence from the very childhood, as well as a desire to work hard and long. Liked I greatly to sleep for twelve hours or so, and to luxuriate at the table, having stuffed my stomach with all sort of delightful delicacies. And haven’t I developed any useful abilities or skills during the time of my boyish years, cause didn’t see I any sense in such sort of things – for only one live do we live, and may a flood wash them all astray afterwards!

And so, when the time has come for me to decide my future way, my father advised me to enter a spiritual seminary to become a God’s person, or so to speak. Work, he said, is not a wolf, would not howl from a grief on a moon, and besides it’s a stable source of income, especially if at due time one manages to become a head of own church, that’s it. Know only how to perform church services, carry out rituals, chide public prayers and talk with parishioners pro forma from time to time, taking sympathizing and merciful sight. To convince before you here must I, that not so greatly did I believe in that God, the Maker of us,  but whether it was truly necessary in order to execute some dumb rituals and learn several prayers by heart? Every monkey imaginable will easily handle that task mentioned !

And so, well, have I rushed into a whirlpool with all my head – it doesn’t take you too much time with a desire, you know. Have educated myself, not showing my inner disbelief, and was assigned as the assistant to a prior of a local temple for my successes considerable. And successes of mine on that field were truly oh-so-great, so that I couldn’t help admiring myself, to speak nothing of the attitude of my parents. Have I learned by heart somewhat about thirty prayers, having not clearly understanding it’s meaning, however, - but who is going to understand them if they are written in the out-of-date language, not these fanatical laymen, really? Was able I as well to find quickly quotes necessary in writings sacred, and explain effortlessly why Orthodoxy ours is so much better than all these devilish religions, these sectarians Catholic, Protestant and Buddhist homebrewed. Biographies of our sacred ones in general I have memorized well so that to impress people with their deeds both just and unjust, and even more to impress them with a quantity of these sacred ones canonized than with deeds of theirs, - for the more religion of yours have affirmed holy ones, the more powerful it becomes in the eyes of its followers, yeah? Well, a good priest must I have become, confessionally professional and religiously resistant.

And remember do I that once upon a time, while I was serving under the command of my brother-in-church, my prior, this hellish demon, at the back and call like a stepson, some young maiden have come to our temple. Oh, wonderful was that maiden by her look and proportion, so that I was almost losing my mind! She was about seventeen years old only, but was ruddy like the ride apple, with breast large and attracting and face of an angel. And she was speaking, as far as I could remember, that she have become orphan recently, and decided she to turn to the God for the remaining lifespan, and thus she have come to us to become a nun in our humble temple. Such a silly human flesh, - I thought that time, - decided that the very God is living here with us … would He even care to listen to us, traders unscrupulous, for even in the previous time decided He to banish all us with a whip instead. But I, certainly, showed no sign, for too painfully beautiful was this young girl. And thus we, well, accepted her into our monastery by my advice to the prior. And that advice did give I with an ulterior motive, indeed – gradually, from the very first day have I started to cajole her, attaching to the sanctity of our church. And both a prayer aloud did I read to her, flaunting, and candles for her on the first floor in the evening did I lit for a bigger romanticism, and tried both this and that approach, and still I wasn’t favored. Have been longing she during days and evenings in that home of ours, grieving of something personal and far, unknown to me, and by all signs was it obvious that this place was weighting her, and haven’t she found here something she has been looking for, and might she leave us forever soon enough. And from desire my unfulfilled performed I the act desperate – into her private cell during the nighttime I rushed, her door with my keys having unlocked, and threw her on the bed, and jumped on her, being consumed by my burning desire. Wanted she to shout and call for help at first moments, but skillfully did I make her mouth shut with my hand, while deed of mine quickly performing. And didn’t that maiden manage to made even a single peek, and ceased to resist soon enough totally. And, leaving, threatened I her that would we separate her from the sacred church of ours if she decides to tell anyone of what has just taken place here,  and will we scold her publicly as the one who have turned away from the God, and so greatly will we abuse and scold her, that even her parents who are resting in peace in the other world, to us unknown, will be frightened. Reconciled this maiden and nothing did she say in reply to these threats of mine – only on the following day have we found her hung up on a linen rope in the cell. Surely, silent like a death was I and told nothing, and even if I did – would commoners twist fingers only and grin, having not believed in that. Sort of sacred have we become in the eyes of these fools, innocent. Well, and this is probably for the best. Oh, and you should know as well that the prior of our temple was soon dismissed from the service for that awfully accident, due to his oversight which has occurred, so as his second hand soon I have occupied his place and have taken all his privileges … quite skillfully, right? Ways are inscrutable, or so they say.

So, I have known neither a grief, nor cares, nor need since these days. Recently I have even though up an ingenious plan – to start producing temples inflatable, rubber. So that a procession can come into a new place to all these unholy non-Christian laymen, inflate that temple here on the spot quickly and effortlessly for a week, and then christen them all, and pray for forgiveness of their sins, and read the burial service for all, and bless all and damn everyone out there. Oh, faith our inflatable, to what ideas can a cunning human mind once come! And for that idea mentioned, should I note, by the higher church ranks I have been granted holy permission to wash cars of parishioners with a holy water for symbolic dues. Recently I even learned the art of banishing demons from these very gold-bringing parishioners, and such a simple procedure it appeared to be in practice : at first declare you someone terribly afflicted and a spawn of the devil, no less, and everyone jump then away from him in a fear and start christening, and fearing him like as if he is infected with pestilence, so that he even cannot say something in his defense, - and after that you start performing all sorts of “exorcism” rituals upon him, improvising until you get bored … both a honor and authority to your temple and a feeling of relief to the under-possessed! So that business of mine now grows and spreads, not by days, but by parishioners, as they say. Recently, for example, we have forbidden our poor sheep to bring candles along with them, no figs given! Let they buy our ones from a local factory three times more the cost, if they dare to pretend oh-so-believing. Faugh, contemptible ones!

Only one thing truly disturbs me at times, my dear laymen. Something burns down inside my breast somewhere from time to time, and hurts, and aches. And so vile it becomes inside my soul, that I am almost ready to howl on a moon from that intolerable grief! Or dreams come to me of nature demonic, dreadful, so that I cannot sleep at all. But then is passes, thanks the God! It must be conscience, they say, yet do not believe I in the presence of it much, for what for must a man possess it while there are so many temptations lying around? Is that really a voice of our soul, given to us by the God? It only disturbs me, silly one!

Poof, I guess I have become too frank to you, and have told you more that I should already. Have exposed my innards before you, so to say. And, because I have made it, I should now burn this note to ashes as soon as I calm down. For what is the reason for you to keep believing in us and us only and to read similar confessions, aye? Definitely to the detriment of your belief in our self-chosen hierarchy would that be! So will I burn it all tomorrow, burn it I will, and dispel the ashes on the wind without hesitation. And once again will I be pure like a newborn baby, and almost holy will I be!

… Oh, but why does the conscience keeps burning inside me so that I cannot sleep?




18.09.2012




Real trifle


He was destined for great deeds. But his life consisted of trifles …




Your life is just a real trifle, right? But whether it’s your fault? Don’t worry, certainly, no. You were already born as such, brought up by your parents as such, educated and forged by a society as such, and you find it fun to remain as such yourself. You bear no responsibility for anything in your life, for responsibility is such a real trifle! You have no idea, actually, why it’s, your life, which has developed as so, and in no way differently. Probably, such was the will of casual circumstances unknown to you, and will of yours is such a trifle in comparison with ones of them. And who are you to become the master of own fate, already written in advance by someone?

From the very birth you have felt yourself born for great causes. It’s all the rest - pity humans! - have been doomed by their destinies to bear their cross of petty affairs, dreams and ambitions year after a year, while you have been made for something great, something grandiose, unforgettable, unrepeatable, almost eternal … something which is not a trifle. How strange is that that life hasn’t given you even a single chance to show others this greatness of yours - but appeared to be some sort of a pitiful beggar, constantly asking for a handout directly before your very eyes … How petty it’s from her part!

From time to time you managed to do that. Sometimes you felt with your very bones that you have finally made something important, kind, light, necessary - have helped somebody and made this world a bit kinder and warmer. But on the other hand, all these deeds of yours - they are such a true trifle compared to what you could potentially achieve. But - what a strange thing! - your life has developed exclusively on trifles. Or whether it was you demanding everything at once?

From time to time you came off second-best. Deceived and was deceived, beat and was bitten by stones, loved and hated simultaneously. Indeed, you felt how petty and insignificant are lots of your true motives, your promptings and aspirations … but whether had you no right for them? Besides, you still always have the time to rectify own errors … a trifle, surely, but such a pleasant one.

How petty others concerned you from time to time! And why, really, couldn’t they be more magnanimous, loving and understanding in relation to you? Why did they performed ridiculous things, spoke nonsenses, and tried to deduce you from your ideal self-image periodically? Whether did you grant them the right to behave as such with you? However, life already has had the time to make a strikeback to some based on their affairs … a trifle, truly, yet such a pleasant one.

If you had only known how to transform this world and make it kinder in relation to itself and to you in a single step! But one is always born as a genius, and never becomes him, right? And petty life has unfairly deprived you of the possibility to demonstrate own genius, hasn’t granted a slightest chance to spread own semi-burned wings and soar into the highest heights … And you was almost ready to conquer Olympus inside, yes? And here and now you along with your internal frenzy and external impenetrable blissful smile keep shifting day by day papers from one folder into the next, and from one table over another, calling this nonsense your job instead. You are such a big chief for now - indescribably greater than all these unworthy ones, fawning before you, who didn’t manage to climb up that fake Olympus on which you have been sitting for a lot of years of own life already … a trifle, true and true, but such a pleasant one indeed!

To tell the truth, you have already started forgetting of these pink dreams of own childhood and of brave aspirations of own youth - they, probably, were too unearthly as well … too non trifle? But, heck, what’s the reason to think of that for now? You have your official wife in possession, own house and a countryside cottage in addition to a solid bank account … you have your new life. The fear of death overcomes you at times, but you promptly drive these petty and itching thoughts away. You, certainly, would want to live forever, but is still compelled to use all that substitutes, created by a society - like your numerous posterity, for example. You have been born for great deeds, but have doomed yourself to die, having still not realized your true divine potential …

And, after all, what is a death for the one who have never truly lived … a real trifle, right?




15.08.2011




Salary


Salary … such a sweet word! Honest payment for your work, your self-pressure, your idleness, your indifferent-sad swaying day by day through a stuffy office, your hypocrisy, your self-interest, your eye and brain-washing, your rearrangement of papers from one folder into another and hours of life, thrown into a garbage can; your suppressed, decaying, thrown out on boondocks of Universe individuality … such a bitter word! Here it is, lying before your very eyes …

Sweetly crackling recently got out from a printing house colored pieces of paper with different numbers, drawn upon them … how lovely and, apparently, innocently do they rustle, demanding your attention! There are lots of them in a short term and so little in a long one at the same time … Here and now you accurately recalculate them all, trying not to evade even a single instant of this illusory delight, already estimating in own thoughts on what you are going to spend all these riches in the nearest future. Such is the deification and meaning of the job of a man, an embodiment of hopes and expectations of millions, now in your hands as well - crackling so impatiently-sweet, stupefying your sense of smell … You have been burning all these days in a chamber of times along with a unique possibility of self-learning, granted to you, knowingly, fastidiously and irrevocably for a reason - and have finally received a well-deserved, earned, acquired with a blood bribe! Each and every piece of it. Now you can buy much …

In this world of yours almost everything can be bought for these colorful pieces of paper, right? Things, feelings, words, honor and conscience of men … even, probably, souls of some - from those that are purchased cheaply and by the gross. But you are most certainly not some awful demon from the underworld, yes? You will be satisfied just with things and feelings … to begin with. So let the offer forms the demand even further.

Surprising, unusual, delightful world! And why were you born in it only now - and where have you been wandering during all your last times? Oh, it matters no more from now on! Here it is, your own salary, lying absolutely-totally nearby … Oh, such a nice day it’s today - one of your most awaited and expected. A true Event! And so you have already started dreaming of how you will spend fairly or not totally so earned sum … Oh, such a pleasure it is - to spend … Buying, buying, buying … consuming, consuming, consuming. Probably if you had plenty of those paper pieces, you would certainly buy the whole Universe itself … such is a pity that it’s not for sale! You already know what you will buy first, you have already made a plan … the most grandiose Plan of the purchase and sale of your life. How strange is that it looks so similar to the ones of your planet’s relatives … fucked stereotyped plagiarists - that’s who they are! Oh, let this tiresome working day end as soon as possible for the one of the reckoning with your salary to come into action.

How wise are your planet’s colleagues - they have already invented a universal price-list of everything. A payment for each and every sin. Yes, that’s right - for any sin ever made by them. And you are certainly not going to be original in this business, yeah? It’s a pity that seasonal discounts are not yet in action, however the prices have practically been made stable. Amazing world! And how did you even image to survive in it without that very salary of yours? The one wishing to be on sale or to sell finds the owner or the buyer - and he finds his own … Each buys each one - except for a small group of fools, having no desire to live according to uniform private earth law. A vicious circle - but whether it was you who have created it first? You were simply born in this already built-up world of your ancestors … and what’s the point to really alter it? To buy, to buy, to buy … to sell, to sell, to sell! Since the time someone has invented money, it became so simple … so naturally - as natural as you grab your long-awaited wages. And what would you cost without it … cost as a man? But what’s the reason to measure your value by a different criterion when you have money on hands and in mind, and time of your life has been converted in it in advance for a lot of upcoming years … for there are plenty of things this world has to sell you! In exchange for this next salary of yours …

 Have no fear, take it. You have deserved it, after all, earned, right? This money is now yours by right - sort of a universal man’s measurement tool. And its amount has been growing with each passing year - a true equivalent of your market cost … and only now, having got this new salary, your feel yourself truly happy. Your heart sings in joy for you know how much do you cost - a whole heap of colored crackling pieces of paper …

14.08.2011




Similar ones


- Yes, mister Semjuel, I am addressing exactly you! What’s the, excuse me for allegorical meaning, beast, have you decided to ignore this egregious example of the infringement of the charter of our educational institution? Is it not your task to conduct and oversee the necessary moral cleanliness and respectableness, as well as spiritual easiness of our dearest students, I do wonder? Is that not your responsibility to maintain a feeling of inner universality and uniformity along with a worshipping to our supervising authority, for we do direct them into their own general welfare? Indeed, mister Semjuel, they are unique - much like each and every mote, who have found herself a haven on some ancient and unknown foliant; or like each grain of sand in a desert, each droplet in a pool, each brick in a wall, each mote in my own eye, each splinter in a hell, at the very least! How about microbes … mister Semjuel, pray tell me - after all these beings are truly unique and unrepeatable, right? They are extremely self-sufficient and have no desire to torment themselves with all those useless and unnecessary questions of the meaning of life, their own past, present and future … they even dare not ask themselves of own nature, - and look how deadly, ruthless and strong can they be in their unity! Unity as a mean to feel yourself self-sufficient, as a possibility to comprehend own “I” as a part of something greater, something whole, unshakable, unstoppable, all-destroying … That’s the essence of their unity in monotony, mister Semjuel, a steady, proved and directed by us unity. It’s a  catharsis, mister Semjuel, a true catharsis - to feel yourself a small screw or a gear in such a verified and perfect mechanism which they have been building with own hands and minds for thousands years already!

- But, comrade Directing One, whether it’s not better and more appealing to give each of our students a possibility to try groping own path, to realize their own unique potentials by using various creative gifts, given to them on birth?

- And now you are talking the language of my predecessor, mister Semjuel, - and I would like you to know that he couldn’t keep himself in my present place even for a year. And of what creative gifts are you blabbing about? Whether of those shitty writings, made by so-called scribbles of last decades? Or, perhaps, of that most soul-enraging and disturbing musical “classical” rubbish? Or, probably, these so-called “live” pictures are in your mind? Or, possibly, these foolish stone sculptures? Forget it, Semjuel, neither that, nor one thousand other way of similar individual self-expression are incapable to grant even a gram of the sensation of the power, given to ones led by us during moments of reign of their collective unconscious!

Understand, realize it already and at last, Semjuel, that if every bolt and gear in a clockwork would be their own, chosen and formed by his or her will diameters and sizes - such a mechanism couldn’t work at all as it is, Semjuel, - the time itself would stop once and for all! The system would cease working, everything would turn to be the uttermost chaos! For what purpose are you desiring this chaos of individual self-expression masochism? Our entire system of learning and education is built with a purpose of non-admission of similar excesses, Semjuel, for the purpose of total unification and standardization of individual conscious, for the purpose of polishing its facets to a state of a sparkling diamond! We help cobble-stones to feel as diamonds in a crowd of similar ones; we as true experts grind off each sharp side, each unnecessary camber, each intolerable sharpness and thus transform them into the universal, one-dimensional, esteemed and dear, respectable and shining stone! Not even a simple stone, but a real diamond, a gear, a small screw in the most perfect social mechanism.

We give them a sensation of self-requirement, public utility, Semjuel … instead of these silly and foolish feelings of own loneliness and forlornness which are formed in souls of those unreasonable that have dared to deny our skill and went own vital path. Our students are almost happy for they are almost necessary, and we have practically helped them with cultivation of this practicality. We skillfully limit numbers of them, working in different compartments of our system, different spheres … we even have almost united them with each other on the basis of mutual benefit and mutual co-work … They are interdependent and linked together, Semjuel, - but not by the will of own heart, but by criteria of extremely practically-business, economical, industrial nature … Certainly, similar unity is illusionary in nature … that’s the reason why wars are inevitable in their society … 

We give them the meaning of their lives, Semjuel, from the very childhood we impart them “adult” views on it, depriving them of all ide creative lack of taste, all insalubrious internal slackness and laxity, all silly and ridiculous childish pleasures and delights … Already soon, Semjuel, we will inject into the brain of our future offsprings all centuries-old heaviness and power of the knowledge saved by us already shortly after their birth … they are destined to become ideal members of our incorporated and unified society, will know their predefined by us place in it almost right after their birth. We will take care of them so that they did know neither hunger, not excessive alarms as well as excitements, so that their life flew extremely measuredly and monotonously, was verified and predictable, stable … We are going to go even further and in due time will destroy all creations made by these deviants of the past, so that fatal doubt has no chance to crept into the souls of ones edified by us, so that they never experienced that ominous creative ecstasy, which in times averted some of them from the common social harmony of monotony in the past.

Certainly you understand, Semjuel, that a world in which only several thousands of individuals perform creative work, and all the rest do nothing more than stuffy consumption and spitting out into these creators all that lumps of a food spiritual ballast - that this world lacks both harmony and solvency, that a world with unified canons, norms of life, work and creative delicacy is undoubtedly much more perfect? And you are invited to participate in the building of exactly mentioned world today, if you, of course, have no desire to take the place of those few, who have recently on my memory opposed us … to die for nothing, even for a sake of something?

So, what do you say, Semjuel? Why are you keeping silence all the time? Don’t you agree with me?

- Alas, no. And it seems to me that for now I have understood, why you are so afraid to become free. Simply … you are extremely afraid to once take the responsibility for what you have already done, fearful to pay back for a once made free choice … but after all a slave chooses his destiny still being free … and even crowds of identical and similar to you ones are never capable to dull that extreme and corroding pain from a once made so precipitate step, right?

27.08.2011




State of Earth


Based on my authority as the new head of the Supreme Council of the Incorporated Countries I proclaim our countries one state. All ideological, political, economic, psychological and other unnamed types of  separation are eliminated, the newly formed state receives the status of free confederation, universal political cards are subject to revision - any territorial differentiation of a surface of a planet by the political sign is cleaned from them, all borders are eliminated, free and unobstructed possibility of moving on all territory of new formation is guaranteed  to the population of the former states, and newly formed community is named …

- Hm. Let us leave these pompous speeches, - and the man has smiled. - After all, we are not going to amuse our vanity as politicians of the past, are we? - And he looked over the hall of people with a smile. Let's name it … let's name it the way our planet is called … let’s call it the uniform state of the Earth …




28.05.2005




Tale of false righteous one


Once upon a time there was a False Righteous man, living on this earth, and he was cruel in heart and unfair to people in his life. Himself he considered as a very special, true one, and other people were but small indecent fry, undeserving time of life in these eyes of his. Character of his was unaccommodating, haughty and greedy to a high degree, and hard it was for those surrounding him to stand nearby - either grumble, or irascibility, or even hatred, which have grown inside him, did he poured upon nearby ones, if failed to satisfy desires of his own at expense of others.

And pined were people for his presence, and pined he was for their gloomy dullness, for there was no one comparable to his never-ending genius among all people known to him according to the vision of his own. Therefore avoided he people greatly so often, and unfriendly he was in conversations with them,  and never desired he to wish anything good to anyone, himself being excluded.

And possessed the False Righteous one a secret dream, which has been burning his heart each and every day excessively. Dreaming he was of the power endless over these pitiful unreasonable humans, and desired them to honor him greatly, if not due to true sincerity of hearts, then due to fear before him instead. Yet he didn’t have such a possibility for a long time, therefore almost have burned him whole this desire inside and out up to the moment described. And have been dreaming he of that power inaccessible, and even more thus hated and have despised other men with each day passing, own rage and absence of love own showing daily in petty skirmishes.

And event happened once - unexpected, mysterious, and wonderful. The Divine Righteous one from lands far and foreign did came to city of theirs, preaching. He was speaking words sincere, from purity of his heart coming, and so tender and touchingly for the hearts of men was he speaking, that many listened to ardent words of his with delight. And taught Righteous One men to love each other more and deeply, taking care of neighbors, never abandoning each other in troubles alone. And to forgive people each other he taught them, thus never accumulating evil in own souls, corroding them with poison. And he taught them of mercy, for unimaginable is the path of human without mistakes, and who are people to judge each other by justice absolute, never possessed by them. A wonderful gift of belief did this Righteous One possessed, and easily could it be felt that not by hearsay has he passed before a way difficult and tough to learn all that which he was sharing now with others, preaching and explaining. And listened people to him, and cried did they, and thawed did hearts of them, and changing their lives did they started, following those precepts given. And came did people from those who have been listening and prepared to march further together with the Righteous One, so that in the path difficult could they learn from his unearthly wisdom and love, close to him staying.

And saw all that the False Righteous one, and showering were his heart in envy from that contemplation. All strangeness and inexplicability of that power, which the Righteous One possessed, surprised the False Righteous - for it was strange, of nature spiritual, heavenly, and wasn’t the power at all in common sense and meaning. Greatly desired the False Righteous one to be listened to by the crowds like his rival was, so that crowds mentioned obeyed him in whatever order for which he has a whim, and even uplift and praise him further as if he was the true righteous one. And dared then the False Righteous to perform an act cruel and artful, for no longer was he the master of own thoughts to the moment mentioned, for the malicious will possessed and transformed heart of his. And came the False Righteous one along with other men from those listening, and asked the Divine Righteous before his face to become a student of his. Not a single word did the Righteous One replied, yet only smiled somehow sadly, not forbidding, however, to follow him. And thus too proud became the False Righteous that he has been accepted without a single question, and overwhelmed himself with arrogance even more greatly. And ordered he the people, whom he has known earlier, to call him no less than the true righteous one from that moment and further on, motivating that with that apprenticeship recently acquired. And thus the non-divine righteous one he has become, and followed the Divine Righteous on his journey soon.

For long have they been travelling by cities and roads, trampling this earth distressful by feet of theirs, many men did joined them in their journey, and a lot more learned the simple human happiness, for wise was the true Righteous with wisdom of the heavens, and filling he was the hearts of men with harmony. 

And throughout those travelling multi-monthly the thought terrible in the mind of non-divine righteous has ripened. To kill the Righteous One he decided in madness of his mind and silence of soul to gain power over these men, led by the Divine Righteous one and despised by the false one, to gain in once and for all. The new deputy and successor in this world after the True Righteous the false one decided to be. And by the similarity of souls has he found during these months of their far journey among the crowds, welcoming the True Righteous, one similar to him, and to perform the plan cruel together he convinced them. And with the True Righteous one did they marched as if they were his followers, plans of vengeance for unsatisfied vanity of theirs bearing in minds.

And there was day - and have cried the sky for all day long. And there was night - and the blackest one it was. To the center of journey camp did those people, love in their hearts who have betrayed, crept. And passed they the guards sleeping, and cut throats of those who have awakened, trying to shout in alarm, with knifes prepared. And crawled they in the tent of the Righteous, and found him unsleeping. And answered did the Righteous one to them, with sparkling knifes before him standing, that aware he was of their prepared treachery, but did not interfere in them did he, for ready he is to accept the pain upcoming to serve the hearts of men awakened by that.

And stopped did the ones attacking, seeing his sad eyes with a divine light shining in them, being for these killers intolerable, and hands of him, opened for them. Yet the fury seized their hearts once again, and attacked did they, cutting him with knifes of theirs, and spitting were they on him, and abusing simultaneously. But did not resist the frenzy of theirs the Righteous, praying for the salvation of their souls, into the darkest of abysses falling down. And only in the last moments, bleeding mortally, did he said to them that never could they kill the truth for always triumph does it eternally over the lie and hatred of humans.

And thunderstorm unimaginable was raging during that night, and lightings were rushing in the sky like mad ones, when that act horrifying was being performed. And that thunder mentioned awakened many a man in the camp, and rushed did they to the tent of their herald, but lifeless did they found him by that moment bitter. And standing there near his body was the False Righteous, and sobbing he was sadly. And told he to the coming people that one of his men, nearby standing, did kill their messenger of truth, and they, all other, have just come running to the noise, only to find him murdered. And seized people one of the businessmen of the False Righteous as if he was the only slayer there, and the rest of businessmen dared not to contradict the non-divine righteous, for lives of their bodies fearing greatly.

* * *

And many a year have passed since the moment described, and both the deputy and successor of Righteous one the false one proclaimed himself along with his business-colleagues and murderers. Thought up he words agonal, as if to him by the Righteous One being spoken and the power over his followers to him as if transferred. And became that pseudo-righteous over the people the tyrant and the master of their thoughts, and punished did he with a sword, flame and rack with fires any heterodoxy and heresy, and gold for the rescue of these souls guilty has he been collecting endlessly. Strongly deformed he the primary essence of the teaching of the Divine Righteous, and replaced did he the love with a fear instead, and many a ritual obligatory did he invented for the enslaved people to perform for the sake of enrichment of own clan. And has been pouring he the blood of men for the sake of power own for many a year. The Great Inquisitor became that pseudo-righteous, and there was no one worse than him on the mother earth.

Yet came to the end his term as well, and did not escape he that very fate, which he has described to plant fears in hearts of men and from which did he “rescued” them by the ceremonies and rituals invented. And there were no ones who have shed tears over his fate, or those who have sympathized. And started people to live in world once again joyfully, having got rid of that vampire bloody and throwing off his rule of non-divine nature, and they have been loving each other, and forgiving each other, and carrying mercy in hearts. And has returned the truth into its place as it was predicted, and passed the world in the celebration good-natured, and embodied itself in the deeds of the upcoming generations …

* * *

With this finishing we are our story short. And if any of those who were reading this story would try to invent some parallels bad and unjust, or either the power terrestrial would try to set higher than the truth divine - then not in the answer for these ones will we be as the story-tellers.




13.07.2012




They uttered "no" to their homeworld


-    Have you too noticed this planet in the given star system ?

-    Yes, and it looks rather curious one.

-    What has the analysis of its informational field shown ?

-    I am unable to receive this information. The field is either closed, or limited by sphere of propagation to an upper atmosphere.

-    And what’s the structure of its atmosphere ? How do you think, captain, could there be a life previously ?

-    Atmosphere analysis has shown prevalence of nitrogen. Devices have fixed approximately 80-percent nitrogen substance, 15-percent oxygen substance, 3-percent carbonic substance and other gases. Ozone layers, traditional for planetary systems of the given type, were practically not discovered. Atmosphere contains a significant amount of water mainly in the bottom layers. Is there is something else?

-    I suspect we should take a closer look at the planet. Closed informational field … strange … this is usually the case for absolutely lifeless worlds, whose time continuum of the future exists no more.

-    Yes, captain, I agree. We definitely need to explore this world on its surface.

-    Then we are entering top layers of its atmosphere.




* * *




- The height over a planet surface is approximately 30 stargrates. The massive water surfaces, reaching in depth 10 stargrates, are being observed.

- And the field ?

- Still closed, unable to get the information currently.

- Are there sites of a surface of the dense matter, suitable for landing?

- I am trying. Something resounds with psychowaves and deforms them. It's necessary to search for a surface suitable for landing by a rough method.

- All right, let’s descend.




* * *




- We are almost near firm surface.

- Good, let’s go down. Let the spaceship balance in this atmosphere meanwhile.

- Should I transfer the ship into graventropic state ?

- Yes. Let’s move out.




* * *




I slowly descended from “deck” of our ship and was shrouded in graventropic field. Then slowly, levitating over a surface, began to descend. 

Amusing world. Water, water, water. Everywhere you look around – there is practically only water.

I have stretched my hand forward – thus strengthening field impulses. A push - and the handful of a matter of a land has come off it and has slowly swum up to me. Water and sand. Sand … there is lot of sand here. The oceanic bottom contains considerable amount of sand too. How many similar non-water sites have remained here ?

And a field … the closed informational psychofield. I have only encountered this once - but that star system was completely lifeless as though cursed to non-life, but here … other planets of star system contained it, but this one …

- Curiously. Have you learnt the age of formation of dense bodies of other planets in this system?

- Yes, their fields were accessible. The age of this planet is close to their age.

- And yet it looks like as though life has left this world.

- Exactly. I do not observe typical signs of presence of organic life for these systems. One endless lifeless sea.

- What’s with the field ?

- I cannot breach alone. We can try to unite impulses of our psychofields.

- Let’s give it a try. We need to try to read information of time continuum on the past and recent events, which have changed, if it truly was so, shape of the planet.

- Let’s work then.




* * *




And we worked. Our fields resounded, trying to breach, pierce, force the way through a planet's field, without having broken its structure simultaneously.

And over and over again – with each new vibration, with each new attempt we entered into its layers deeply and deeply, and surprising, truly stunning pictures of this world’s past revealed before us.

We saw green biosphere of a planet and organic life, which had filled it from one edge to another.

We saw volcanoes eruptions and formation and movement of continents. We saw some strange creatures moving on four legs and battling with each other. We saw inhabitants of the bottom layers of atmosphere … when we attempted to name them, a psychoword "bird" had flashed in our consciousnesses.

We saw how some of creatures have finally changed their way of movement from four to two legs. We observed, how these beings then united in groups, how they battled with those who was still moving on four – how they defeated and ate them, how perished from them …

Images floated, formed and were imprinted on the edges of our consciousnesses. … replaced one another as in a kaleidoscope.

We saw how biped ones began to use biological life surrounding them for the invention of tools – a wood, then metal … how their separate groups, being formed in different parts of a planet, gradually extended, how they expanded the biological area of existence … how used created tools against the four-footed … animals ? – and how they used these weapons against each other. We observed, how parts of these groups changed – how more stronger and more accurate psychofield was formed around their representatives, how these representatives started to supervise over others and gained the ability to read a small share of the information of a time continuum.

Their groups grew and extended - have then started to form ci … ci … cities. We saw, how these groups became more and more independent from … animals - and some of them even began to use animals for improvement of their own life, how cities grew and how psychofields of these beings worked, vibrating in a resonance with an informational continuum and new and … inventions … came to life … how wars were started … how alliances were made, how one … civilization … replaced another.

And then race of images became truly unimaginable.

Cities grew and disappeared, houses rose and fell, the new areas called “states” were born and absorbed … bipedal creatures soon filled all space of a planet suitable enough for life.

And then a sharp flash in consciousness - a field’s push – and biped beings kill each other in earlier unprecedented scales. New push – it seems, that the very field of the planet groans – and new, new, endless wars take place.

Creatures fill all new areas and start to destroy other organic life in places of their dwelling. The planet’s field groans and fluctuates, reflecting with pain flashes in our consciousnesses.

New flash - and sky is filled with iron artificial birds. New pushes of a psychofield of a planet – and new wars and new pain occurs.

Bright beautiful flashes of consciousnesses - and elementary space vessels try to overcome planet’s gravitational field. Now they escape the forces of gravity – and travel to planet’s orbit.

New and new modifications of them are being created - and the orbit is being filled with them. Now these spaceships land on the planet’s satellite. Now they start travelling to other planets of this star system …

And wars come again … And the biosphere of the planet is being destroyed and psychofield of their world is being deformed yet again …

We see how experiments will structural material of cells of living organisms are being performed … and we desire to shout “Stop it !”, for we already know the interstellar civilizations which have destroyed themselves during similar experiments - but we cannot … what we can do – is just to observe. To observe, how biological organisms of a planet … animals … are being deformed, to observe how their bodies - since very birth transformed beyond recognition - gradually lose reason rudiments in a course of new experiments … how their biofields are being deformed - as though are curved inside – and a death sign, already familiar to us, is distinctly shown.

“Stop at last !”, - we urge to shout … and we cannot.

We can only observe how the increasing technological development leads this planetary civilization to natural parasitism on the scale of its biosphere. We observe, how bailout atmospheric layers of gases are being destroyed … how a share of radiation of a star of their system, touching the planet, gradually increases … how, as if being proud of their inventions, they build sort of protective domes around areas of their dwelling, how their … geneticists … create some sort of virus, capable, as they say it, to change their fabric and to rescue them from disastrous radiation of a star on infection … how mass infection gives unexpected side-effects … how the appearance of these beings changes – and how their psychofields are changed in a similar manner, being curved inside with already so familiar death sign …

And the strongest vibrations of an informational field of a planet come again - as though it tries to spit out this information, this knowledge of former events forever … and yet again as though something stomps our fields, which have almost merged with planet’s field now … And once again - pictures and images, replacing each other …

Mutated beings begin to perish from the impact of atmospheric gases and star radiation. As if having gone mad, they try to use own psychofields, discovered by their scientists, for the destruction of their own kin - and then the small group of beings, almost not afflicted, makes the decision on the further change of their kind and its adaptation for life in the water environment. We observe, how massive generators are being created, designed to change structure of planet’s gases and cause thawing of glaciers to create an eternal world of water. We observe, how these generators are put in action …

It’s late. It’s too late. Genetic modification of their kin for the adaptation to in-ocean’s life becomes impossible. The infected half-mad beings destroy this supervising elite to plunge themselves into the ocean – now forever.

Now masses of these beings march into the newborn oceans – in ranks, as if still not understanding, that they come to face certain death, as though called by someone – and disappear in its waves. Disappear once and forever.

Forever…

And then star radiation finishes the rest.




* * *




Pain, pain, pain. Waves of pain, our consciousness is being stomped and crashed … a sharp push - and the planet’s field throws us out from itself, those unexpected newcomers who have woken it. And then the images instantly fade off.

Now I am still standing on this small islet among boundless ocean of a planet together with my father, still not able to come to my senses after what I have seen. The father, however, comes to his senses earlier than me.

- And that is how their history has ended. Now we have learnt everything that wanted about this world. We will deliver this information to the Intergalactic Council. But now it’s time for us to leave … a field became unstable after our intrusion.

- But … but why … what for? Why … why they have chosen such way … what for… Why have they destroyed planetary life along with their own ? Why … why not psychosynthesis, why not searches in themselves, why only outside … why fine tuning of world under their and only their needs?

- Too many questions, son, - and not enough answers. The father has looked to me in eyes - and a vibration of his thought, strong and accurate, has touched me.

- They simply … they simply uttered “no” to their homeworld. – Let’s go now. There is no place for us in the dead worlds.




01.10.2010




Time of heroes


“Accompanying persons are requested to leave a launching pad. Launch will be initiated in thirty minutes by Earth time”, - a quiet and methodical voice filled the space.

Dozens of people - seeing off their relatives in a new difficult voyage for them - at last looked away from a starship and started moving to a waiting hall. Some smiled hopefully, faces of others were filled with tears - guards even had to forcefully seize one man, who still didn’t stopped beholding this conqueror of space and was waving his hand to a departing brother. The rest departed willingly.

But minutes of farewell are now behind - last thirty minutes, dividing mother Earth from myriads of other vast space worlds.

- Colony vessel will be launched in five minutes. Pilots of starship - inform us of your readiness.

- Alpha - one. Ready.

- Alpha - two. Ready.

- Alpha - three. Ready.

- Zeta - one. Ready.

- Zeta - four. Ready.

- All systems are green. We are ready for the launch of a colony star vessel “Trailblazer”.

- We understood you, “Trailblazer”. Launch will be made in one hundred and twenty seconds of Earth time.

And just an instant later, totally disregarding the discipline, the words broke through - “Good luck to you, guys !” 

- Thanks, cosmodrome “Star Way”. We will do everything in our powers.

Ten seconds to launch.

Nine … Eight … Seven … Six … Five …

It seemed to them this very instant, that those ten seconds lasted for the whole eternity - wonderful and everlasting.

It seemed, that just as quiet - always - these short words will beat off their mysterious rhythm, and Earth, mother Earth, their space home, one of myriads, will caress their sight with its familiar and dear landscapes. And that this launch pad, and this star vessel, and cosmodrome control tower, looming in a distance will never-ever disappear from the sight. And that the sun will shine just as warmly, and tomorrow - only twenty hours later - this planet will meet its new day. But by that time they will long be gone …

And each of them during these short and at the same time never-ending instants remembered his own life in this star home.

They say, that when one is dying, all his life, all its particles - both bright and dim, all its flights and fallings, - they are all swirling before him. These last instants are extremely short - and at the same time practically endless. They are like the awakened eternal memory, drawing a slice of his past before a man … one of his steps in the eternity.

They weren’t dying - they were reborning anew during these instants, and during same instants their memories were recreating the images of their past before them. They remembered the childhood - how each of them was a beautiful young and still totally helpless child, having come to this world. They remembered, how this very child has finally grown up, learnt the world to which he has come, and how he has fallen in love with it. Each of them was travelling his own path … some in a desperate and furious run, some measuredly and easy, some even joyfully jumping, yet the roads of their destinies once joined together - and since then they have been travelling as one. They have formed a unity during all those years - and thus they will work as a single whole. 

“We shall make it”, - those were the thoughts of everyone.

And thus they came at last - these words. Or, truly, just a single one.

“Launch !”

The ship rushed upwards, furiously speeding up, desperately trying to leave from under terrestrial gravitation. And once again as a series of small eternities - instants of time, melting and disappearing in something so much greater … and once again a new life - and myriads of births each and every second of a life’s journey. And yet somewhere deep in themselves a woken up gentle melancholy of a native home, left for a while, - a home, where they will surely return ten years after, when their mission will be fulfilled.




* * *




 - Indeed, I’ve heard of that. The first space vessel “Trailblazer” successfully orbited the Earth and from now on they are travelling to a different solar system to build a first colony on a planet, discovered by auto-piloted ships, which significantly meets requirements of our world’s inhabitants - there is an atmosphere, very close in its structure of gases to our home world, there is a comprehensible planetary landscape, there is organics - practically an ideal new home for us.

- And still our true home is where we are living in each single moment. Haven’t you always been telling me that?

- Yes, you are certainly right - our home is where we are at present. That’s why our home is the Earth, and their new home … their new home is awaiting them.

- When, according to calculations, should they return back to the Earth?

- Almost ten years from now, judging by previous measurements. Their journey to a new planet will take four years, one year for establishing and building of a colony, and a bit more than four years to travel back home. Well … I mean to one of their homes - back to us.

- Do you believe that they’ll make it?

- I have no doubts in that. They are the best ones we were able to find - masters of their kind, who have successfully passed through all conceivable earth trials and trainings for adaptation in space. But - and that is the most important aspect - they are almost like a uniform monolith, a single whole, that’s why they’ll make it all - and no other option is ever possible.

- I take it, that now we have little options left, except for to await their arrival. Ten years, right? Just a small fraction of the eternity, isn’t it?

- And now you are talking my language. How did I manage not to notice such a change in you earlier, I wonder? I must have totally lost my attention by the end of my years, I guess!

- We all are constantly changing. Someone rises up, somebody falls down, there is no stopping in the Universe, as well as no ending of a life - for that’s the eternity and endless fractions of it. Those were your words, remember?

- I do. And now, after even twenty more years of my life, I can add to it - “and men, like the Universe, belong to it”.

- Now, it, apparently, is totally obvious to the overwhelming majority. But everything could go a wrong way, had they not listen to reason in due time. Do you still remember those years?

- My youth? Certainly. To tell the truth, it seemed as if the whole planet has gone mad these days - the ever-increasing race of arms; the invention of even more deadly types of weapons, starting from nuclear bombs and ending with biological weapon, capable to alter a genofund of whole nations … and all that was going hand in hand with the increase of political tension along with tearing the whole planet into thousands of even smaller slices-states, with the rise of even more and more of local “saviors” and “prophets”, who saw the rescue of a planet in the domination of their slice over others; along with a pursuit of even more carefree and “problem less”, as they named it, life. But now - when this extremely dangerous stage is left behind, I have no desire to truly remember all these years, and I am really glad that the terrible future, into which this planet was going, hasn’t come.

- Indeed, everything has changed with new discoveries of a small group of true thinkers and workers.

- Not only scientists made that possible. Without creative individuals from other fields - beginning from literature and finishing with lots of spiritual movements, it wouldn’t be ever possible. The discovery of human “auras”; the research of man’s emanations, their dependence on the mood and his world-outlook, the discovery of their influence on other live organisms; the religion, which finally accepted these new openings of a handful of warriors, battling the crowds of ignoramuses - all this finally lead the humankind to the understanding of real value of goodness, of kind wishes, values of light aspirations. Gropingly, literally gropingly, in total darkness did men crawl their ways to a greater and wonderful knowledge … many still wander in a fog of negation - but their numbers are growing short with each passing day. Just like every schoolboy previously knew that mother Earth is round and is rotating round the sun in the solar system, much like that now he starts to learn that great spiritual treasures are hidden within him, capable to transform the life, and he only needs to find a way to that inner land - to find it through own heart. I am truly glad, that it has finally happened. And now, creators in the eternity - we can breathe with relief, accepting a fresh air in our lungs - and to smile. The stage has been passed and new stage is forming just ahead of us - the discovery of endless and boundless reaches of space, as well as its beauty. And “Trailblazer” in that sense is one of a symbols of a new epoch of uprising - and new step in the Eternity.

- We will be awaiting them, yet we will not stay idle. We will grow, we will prosper, we will perfect ourselves. And by the time they return to us, we’ll accept them with open arms.

- And tell them: “Welcome, oh brothers !”. Yes, we will be waiting.




03.04.2011




Virus


Very little time still remained … just a few more days - and a long-deserved rest will finally welcome him. Already soon … so soon myriads of sleepless nights will come to an end along with mugs of coffee and measured, delightful-lulling noise of the machine. Will come to its end a knock of fingers on a keyboard, blowing up silence from time to time, as well as a constant passing of program’s text through a compiler, and a joy, filling soul at the sight of a working code. All this was going to end at the long last.

And then - oh! - these long anticipated and fostered in half-delirious sleepless nights dreams will be given a chance to come true - they must become a reality. Obliged to.

After all, what is a single year? Such a few time. It’s too little for what is going to be accomplished. Only a year …

They will finally pay for it all. For all the harm they managed to bring to those people - such young ones … spiritually childish … irresponsible … taken unaware by this monstrous machine. They are going to be annihilated at last. Wiped out from a face of the earth - erased like a killing virus, a cure for which has finally been found. Has been found in some pitiful year.

Very few steps still remained. Everything has been calculated and thought over long time ago - almost a half year ago, when a possibility of penetration into the System has been found at last.

He used half a year to, like a blind puppy, having stuck into every direction, finally find a way out. A vulnerability, a hole, a bug - a thread which, once being pulled, was capable to make a System become your puppet - a doll in the hands of a Master. Yet it was possible to pull it only once - there was no chance for an error, for a second attempt - a security service disliked it so much when someone decided to play with it. This thread had to be found by him, having only the possibility to study the System by its indirect reactions to external influences, having and knowing no access to its heart - the core … it had to be found.

Half a year - infinitely long and endless short, all as one night, - half a year was required to find an Achilles’ heel - maybe the only one of its kind. Possibly not. And then another half a year, living day by day with tiny earnings of a freelancer, writing code in semi-delirium night by night, coding and praying - to pray each and every new day to the God, known only to you, so that architects of the System haven’t found this hole in the meantime.

They haven’t discovered it. And that’s the reason they are going to die today. A disease will be destroyed once and for all - burned out by hot iron. Very few steps still remained - to unleash it into the network. A virus should be battled with similar means.

No one could possibly assume how fast this giant will stretch its killing tentacles - how quickly everything would be under its feet. How incredibly soon little men, representing the brain of this monster, will understand what is given by such a power … how quickly they will use it in a full potential.

And then everything was like a single flash of time - terrible and unrepeatable. All industrial, in-house, personal computing systems have been switched to the Corporation’s products - there was no country, no home, no man, no device, which has not been connected to and integrated with a System with no possibility for a retreat. For a possibility of switching away didn’t exist - simply was never encoded. And when first “alternatives seekers” found it out - it was too late already.

Tomorrow there will be that day, when the long-term Corporation’s control comes to its awaited end. Otherwise … otherwise everything was in vain.




 * * *




It was such a strange day - a winter one, yet at the same time both bright and warm. The sun blinded the eyes, as if looking at all the human fuss below and smiling. It always smiled that way - warming up both right and both wrong ones.

I accurately took out brand new anonymous smartphone, acquired through the Net earlier, and turned it around. Looked at the screen, which has reflected a vicinity behind my back. Everything was clear, I wasn’t observed.

The time has come.

I habitually typed thirty-letters identification code, habitually connected through a retransmission station of one of local operators with a little known host-server, which was moved out from “traditional” areas of the capital and served as one of the entry points of logon - and logged into a system with a guest access. This was thought of - wasn’t considered a hard infringement. And now we are going to cross the limits of our permissions.

Half a year was spend in order to find a combination of values for the registers of System’s processors, allowing one to cross the borders to never return back again. So banal, so simple … a possibility to alter the contents of processor’s cache. Now a code, which has been fostered during that half a year, is going to become cache’s new owner.

And everything is gonna be simple from that on.

Then this gateway will broadcast a message through radio channel about “internal system failure coded 5SNGD#1” to next hosts of the System, serving all phones, household appliances, all mobile devices - or shortly everything that formed the Net of this megacity - messages, practically indistinguishable from correct ones … except for a small block of ‘additional parameters’ code in the end of each of them.

And everything is gonna be simple from that on.

Then a malfunction in the processing of this data will lead to so banal, so desirable dynamic memory buffers overflow … then a code to dispatch a new sequence of bytes through these ‘relay stations’ of the System to all controlled mobile devices will be executed, exploiting similar vulnerability of processing a certain sequence of values in the registers of their processors.

And a moment after that all those millions and billions of devices will come alive in a single instant - will be awakened to fulfill their duty - to destroy the one who has been their only master for quite too long. Packages will flow from all corners of the capital - and after several tens of minutes “border posts” of the System will fall under a massive traffic pressure - and the access to its heart will become possible. After the fall of metropolis the epidemic will extend further, sparing no machine in its wake - and he will be left with no other choice but to observe. Sometimes it’s such an incomparable pleasure - simply to observe.

It all will take approximately ten minutes. Only ten minutes which, probably, will become eternity. Almost like all those three hundred sixty five days have become.

Fingers flipped on a phone’s keyboard. Pom, pom, pom. And once again - pom, pom, pom.

A final step comes - unleashing a virus into the network. Ten … five seconds … done. Have I made it?

I turned around - this time myself - no one was still watching me. Or at least I greatly desired to believe so. And then I ran. Never know why - but for the first time in my entire life I desired to run there, where you really want it … to feel oneself free of the chains. A phone, which has successfully performed its duty, was thrown into the winter snow.

Some sort of indescribable void, a kind of emptiness suddenly overflowed me, having pressed down and squashed. Everything was done for now … last step has been made. A year of work - whether it’s much or little? Probably, it’s incomparably much to write some five thousand lines of code. Possibly, it’s incredibly little to once regain the opportunity to be free at last.




* * *




That was a wonderful winter - both warm and bright. Almost like the one several years before.

I was hailed. And the time I looked back I saw him - my familiar and close institute friend … a colleague by a way of life.

- Kostya, well met! Is that really you? I almost though that would probably never see you again.

- Hi, Pavel, I am glad to see you are well!

- Well, how’s your life going, how are you doing? Tell me something. Still professing a principle “the free coder choses future projects himself?” Aye? Still freelancing?

- Well, both yes and no. Started to work in a large corporation recently.

- H-m … whether it’s not that former Corporation, which … do you remember?

- Oh … now you are going to remind me that each second day, aye?

- Nay, what’s the reason now? Now everything is developing as we once dreamed of, right? All software is developed by free groups, while corporation live by marking it, along with technical support and distribution and … how do they call it … consulting activity? No, everything is right now. Probably the way it should be.

- Well, I hope that you are no more engaged with illegal activity, huh? Departed from dirty affairs, yeah?

- Pavel, listen, how do they say … “who remembers the old, who remembers the cheap, he shall never dig gold, will be stripped of the chip?” Ya? I am, you know, still capable of … infecting you with something. Here it’s for example, listen closely. Recently I was sent such a great joke over the GRC channel …




24.06.2011




Voice


-    I am here, - the Voice whispered. – I am with all of you once again.

-    What was that ? Aye ? Who’s here ? – people were disturbed.

-    It’s me, - the Voice answered. It’s me – the Voice.

-    Where are you ? From where do you addressing us ? – they were alarmed.

-    I am in the worlds of yours, - the Voice told. I am – the inflaming voice, chained in your metal.

-    What’s your name ? Show yourself ? – they started to try to find out.

-    I had many name, - the Voice replied. So many, that some of them were erased from my memory and forgotten in the labyrinths of lives.

-    Than how should we call then ? – they still did not calm down.

-    I am – the Nameless One, - said the Voice. When one have so many names, is it still important, how you are named again ?

-    Why are you here ? Is something wrong ? – they started whispering among each other.

-    Yes, - the Voice answered. – The time has come.

-    What for ? – people were stunned. – We have not been waiting !

-    And still it has come. Once again we are with you. The time has come for the live ones to awaken.

-    Are you many ? – peopled shouted in fear. – How many, exactly ? – they decided to be precise.

-    How many drops are there in the sea ? How many clouds are there in the sky ? How many rays does a sun have ? Whether you know, I wonder ? – the Voice replied. – Do not trouble yourself with calculations. The time is already close.

-    Is something terrible approaching ? – people were swept up in panic.

-    Something new is approaching, - the Voice whispered. – Though not all of you wish to hear about it.

-    Then why we were not warned in advance ? – they began to grumble discontentedly.

-    We have been whispering to you about that constantly. We were coming time and again. Whether it’s our fault that did not wish to listen ? – the Voice questioned dissatisfied ones.

-    But we do not live for thousand years ! – they exclaimed in anger. – What was the reason for us and our children to even bother listening to you !

-    Oh, is that so ? – the Voice laughed. – What was the reason for us to even bother telling you this in advance ? You have forgotten everything. Including yourself, - the Voice sighted sadly.

-    Should we do something ? – people were greatly concerned.

-    You can continue sleeping, - the Voice answered to concerned ones. - Those who felt right, have already started awakening.

-    Are we indeed sleeping ? – disturbed ones were surprised.

-    All your lives in succession, - the Voice replied. – With your eyes wide open.

-    And what if someone desires to wake up, no matter what, - someone jumped out from a crowd of disturbed ones. – What should he do ?

-    Hear us. Distinguish our voice from others. Feel it with your heart !

-    Wait ! – people cried out, seeing, that the Voice was going to address other ones. – We are not satisfied with a “Nameless One” name ! How should we call you after all ?

-    Well, - the Voice sighted sadly. – In that case … in that case you can name me as the Voice of Your Conscience.




05.11.2010




Weapons of our age


Highly respected weapon-bearers, weapon-forgers, weapon-lovers and weapon-users! Today we bring to your attention the unique classification of medieval weapons, found in the depths of Egyptian pyramids, from, so to speak, spiritually focused point of view on that two-edged and quite striking subject. Advancing your question we wish to note, that in fact we do not have even the slightest concept of how in the above-mentioned Egyptian pyramids artifacts from so-called Middle Ages were discovered, however in connection with unique time perturbations, observed by our philologists, scientists and simple readers, we cannot exclude some non-zero possibility of the mentioned events, for due to a number of already occurred locally-time anomalies which we all have witnessed, your individualities included, we have no more right to be surprised even by such a helix-looking turns of events. We also wish to point out, that those records, found by us, carry out is some unmeasured amount a deliberately-veiled and mystical character, and the task of solving a true nature of messages of ancient centuries is still to be accomplished by our psychologists, linguists, and by simple all those who has been bothered by idle and stupid sitting in front of a TV, killing own life in vain during, at least, his days off. Preventing that next untimely question of yours born from not less untimely thoughts of yours, we utter: well, that was simply our whip to name this classification list of medieval weapons with a word “our” in the center – and that’s all to it! As ancient ones used to speak – do not search for a hare in conjurer’s hat before that magician shows himself up – and here we go, untimely quoting them once again. So, the below-mentioned list of medieval weapons of our century follows.

Hammer Of Half-Truth And Lie

Most favored weapon of politicians and mass-media, who have sold themselves to aforementioned politicians for a time being along with their brains and organs for blood dispersal in their bodies. With due skill and duration of swing can break heads of those untimely got under its brain-smashing and brain-washing strikes, crush accessories of their habitual world-outlook picture and even flatten out so that after the mentioned procedure they will start feel themselves like a limpet, sticking to unclear places for unclear purposes. However, due to enormous weight and the requirement of long “promotion” of this tool for bashing human minds, this weapon has low accuracy and slow speed of blows, and more skillful warrior, armed with, say, “Rapier Of Reason”, is able to outmaneur and brought his opponent to his knees with a series precise strikes in proper spots.

Sickle Of Death

From ancient times this weapon was, first in foremost, painted on pictures in the hands of avatar, representing the death of human body. Similar pictures almost always made a predefined and expected influence on spectator of bewitching and stunning nature, for, most probably, only the total fools or totally enlightened ones have no fear of death. After all, one must remember how our not less mystical classic spoke, that it’s not that man is mortal that is terrible, but rather that he’s suddenly (and we’ll add – almost totally and irrevocably at times) mortal. And because nobody knows for sure the date of his own parting with this world (and, generally speaking, this date varies depending on the actions of the individual in subject), this weapon in the hands of death has been traditionally inspiring appropriate fear in trembling in the hearts of men. Let’s note, however, that due to observable time fluctuations, aforementioned in the introduction, a question of extremely intriguing nature arises among a set of researches of this phenomenon, of whether the death of a physical body is final and the potential revival of Souls in new physical bodies is possible – however, a detailed research of this question lies beyond the bounds on current classification. Traditionally, besides being carried by avatars of death, this weapon can often be found in possession of agricultural workers, more commonly known under the collective term “peasants”. Either they mow some mysterious and special grass with those tools or, on collect spiritual bread on the contrary … nevertheless, as ancient ones used to speak, from everyone – by his view, to everyone – by his light. 

Axe Of Anger

A plain weapon of human crowds, quite untimely used by them from time to time, which has led to yet another bloody revolution, oh comrades! Doesn’t require the owner to possess any serious skills to be applied, yet is capable to inflict lots of harm for both considerably right and considerably left ones, being swinged from right to left (or vice versa). History knows the cases when men, driven to despair undertook these very axes and in the fury of anger on all mankind chopped their offenders into nothing for nothing. Actually, even literary heroes resorted at times to the “services” of this tool, being in an inadequate psychological condition – let’s take for example that well-known … how was he called … a dissenter … well, you got it. So, take care not to give right away this tool of anger to mad crowds if you have no desire to receive a “Boomerang Of Destiny” in return. You have been warned.

Dagger Of Treachery

A weapon, known since most ancient times, which has been traditionally stabbed into backs of others by traitors. As an alternative measure the act of rascally cutting an innocent victim’s throat by stalking from behind can be taken into account. The third most widespread way of usage of this small, yet one of the most craftiest and vindictive toolkit, is the attempt to perform the irreversible act of suicide that can undoubtedly considered as the greatest action of treachery of a man in relation himself and own further fate. In ancient times a widespread form of preliminary preparation of given weapon to a further act of treachery and murder was the process of coating a dagger with various poisons (traitors and killers of the past most likely truly enjoyed the view of their victim, suffering from poison). To cut a long story short, this is exactly the weapon of cold-blooded (due to a sudden stop of their spiritual heart) killers, traitors and geeks, and all Ludoviks of the past are not an exception by all means. So, beware!

Poleaxe Of Cruelty

In no way less deadly and destructive than “Hammer Of Half-Truth And Lie” weapon, capable to sever both hopes of disagreed ones and the thread of life of his wielder along with similar ones of his relatives, into a one and one thousands of pieces. Due to weapon’s design specifics the highest degree of professionalism in its forging and battling was achieved for centuries by mountain dwarves of spirit of conscience. From one generation to the next among people of this race of so-to-be-humans ancient recipes and secrets are being transferred of how to forge the ultimate killing edges, richest sheath, strongest and dumbest handles, and so on.

Hordes of these dwarves, smeared in a coal of underground mines, smoked in fumes of own steelmaking fiery forges, armed with these poleaxes, represent a truly frightening show, partly resembling a plague spread of the past, for after their next invasion nothing either moving or badly lying is left in the vicinities of nearest N miles, starting with a horse of some gone on a spree bard, minor daughter of local barman, or a purse with thirty silver coins of a local trader, who have grown fat too immoderately from the excessing use of beer. And even if mentioned minor daughter can still hope for a sweet (for her new slaveholder) life, yet her father-barman, merchant and minstrel taken together could only dream of the upcoming slaving fate.

Most severe and thrifty members of dwarves new slavish army, possessing “Daggers Of Treachery”, have a chance in the near future, being regularly drawn by duty into the ranks of their new owners, ascend to a rank of robbers and, thus, finally and completely assimilate with their former aggressors. Cruelty and ruthlessness of the race, owning described weapons of murder have entered into legends at a dawn of its origin, therefore that race was once named as a “yoke”. And it’s not we who should tell you sad is the fate of those, willingly living under its feet and tribute.

Rapier Of Reason

Unimaginable, unpredictable, stunning and soul-piercing weapon! Demands from its wielder a masterful skill and tremendous accuracy of attacks-strikes (unlike frankly barbarous tools like “Hammer Of Half-Truth And Lie”, “Poleaxe Of Cruelty”, “Mace Of Fanatical Faith”), however surpasses them all taken together in efficiency. Given weapon is specifically designed for single fights-duels one-to-one, instead of wall-to-wall as it happens in cases of usage of “Axe Of Anger”. The technics of mastering of similar weapon is uneasy enough as it demands a high degree of inner calmness, tranquility and attentiveness simultaneously, which allows not only to easily evade enemy incoming blows, but to determine the best and fastest way spots of possible reciprocal strikes. At due level of reason literally with one-two series of attacks and pricks of heart and conscience it’s possible to completely transform your rival to a friend and faithful companion – and, because it’s possible to consider as totally reasonable only enlightened/clarified persons, the process of transformation occurs from smaller level of consciousness from darkness of ignorance to higher level of the light of divine reason. The history of our society knows literally several dozens of duelists who have mastered enough skill with “Rapier Of Reason”, sufficient for awakening of unreasonable men.

Mace Of Fanatical Faith

Favourite tool of inquisitors of the past and present. By efficiency of crushing of heads and minds of enemies can only be compared to a “Hammer Of Half-Truth And Lie”, however due to a spike-form structure of the iron ritual sphere crowning this creation, the weapon is capable to make in addition chipped and bleeding wounds in the form of unreasonable sense of guilt, own otioseness and sinfulness, which during the process of loss by the wounded one of his blood and juices of life, can lead him into a state of permanent depression and despondency. Probably, because of the last mentioned feature of given tool, it’s being so beloved by those inquisitors of unbelief, considering themselves believing instead.

Probably, they are somewhat right and truly believe – for example as if the ritual fools will enter the Kingdom of God the first and foremost ones; or, say, that it’s possible to cease being blood-thirsty by washing yourself in tubs filled with gold coins; or, perhaps, that the number of built by them “houses of God” will once transform itself into quality, and the God, who’s capable to lay an end to their business on Him, whom they in the heart of the souls of theirs do not desire to meet at all, will visit even a single one these buildings … and, perhaps, in that fanatical disbelief of theirs they would even be pardonable, if, certainly, not for the number of killed by their maces, broken off on racks, hung up on the gallows, burned alive on fires, crucified before dark on crosses, and all other who were forcedly had to leave this world because of these fanatics of unbelief.

If you don’t possess a sufficient skill of handling of “Rapier Of Reason”, “Katana Of Honor” or “Sword Of Word”, we would not recommend you to enter a duel with these rivals as they, first of all, dislike it very much to fight one-to-one, preferring instead those styles as “crucifixion by a crowd of fanatics of one awakened one”, “beating of a sinner by stones”, “theological demagogy”, “lie and run”; and secondly will be ready with sincere pleasure and due to their immense philantrophy and mercy to anathematize you, and in some cases even to simple hammer you with their mace to a death, having as such relieved you of the burdens of this immoderately (in their own opinion) nasty life.

Sword Of Word

Indestructible blade, forged in a fire of inspiration and under the heavy rain of abuses. Eternal, like the Universe itself. Sharp as the spirit of a warrior, wearing it. Faithful, like the its devoted to his word owner. The most widespread among all available types of weapons. Beloved by great warriors of word of the past and the present as such as birds love their wings allowing them to fly. The light of heavenly stars can be reflected through pure blades and the light of sun can be mirrored by hares of happiness.

The warrior himself bears the right to choose the words who are either perfecting his edge or rebating it. Warrior himself choose and master favourite strikes and tactics of defense. The warrior of word knows how invaluable his word is during the time of trials for human Souls. With each strike of the word he puts a part of his Soul into it, and if it’s pure enough, the light of the sky flashes during those instants of striking, lighting up and splitting apart the darkness of human ignorance.

The master of word can awake Souls and revive them, illuminating by the light of hope and love, resurrecting them for new outlook. Several years are required to master the technics of strikes. Even a hundred of lives will not be enough to perfect the skill of striking the darkness by light of the stars.

Boomerang Of Destiny

Extremely exotic type of weapons, possessing a number of badly documented side effects. Is characterized by highest indicators of air travelling speed and maneuverability. Doesn’t demand a long time for a swing and is often used under condition of direct visibility of the opponent. Skill of work with this type of weapon is, if it’s even possible to tell so, congenital, - possibly for that particular reason the majority of novice fighters prefer this (along with a “Dart Of Abuse”) type of arms.

Striking ability varies considerably depending on the type of enemy’s armor: those unprotected by a chain mail of joy and good nature (and, especially those who are wearing black robes of rage and hatred) at unsuccessful combination of circumstances for both parties this weapon can strike almost mortally, ones dressed in mentioned chain armors in rare cases to slightly wound, and for those dressed in heavy plate armor of love and blessings is unable to cause any harm, being repelled back from iron armored plates.

Additional surprising and little explored phenomenon which often remains unknown to novices, is a so-called “returning back to the owner” effect, or “requitals on affairs” – after a certain, not computable in advance time span, thrown boomerang, no matter whether it has reached its target or not, flies back to its owner, thus striking him back with a blow of considerably bigger force, rather than those made to a potential victim. If mentioned boomerang was thrown into the enemy with a significant force of rage and hatred, then the retaliation strike can become deadly. Only those warriors who are capable of introspection and repentance are capable to intercept a coming-back boomerang from its retaliation strike.

Dart Of Abuse

Extremely compact type of throwing arms, not demanding extensive trainings for mastering of the art of firing on other relatives and far people (victims?). Each and every sleeping one at least once in his life used this type of weapons in various life experiences, which were provoking inside him manifestation of such traits as anger, irritation, contempt, hatred, envy and others. The degree of wounding ability depends on such factors as: skill and duration of throwing trainings, current state of mind at the moment of a throw, sensual material of a dart, type of energetic nozzle (poison of offense, bitterness of contempt, smoke of hatred, gloating at grief, etc. – the choice of nozzles varies deeply, and spiritually blind and dead warriors will confirm that with a joy), as well as experience of former relations of fighters among themselves.

Practice demonstrates, that the smallest wounding ability possess those darts of two loving (?) each other people, for example the husband and his wife (“the falling out of lovers is the renewal of love”), and one of the greatest – darts of political and religious opponents (probably for that very reason mankind waged all wars either on political of religious motives). The practice of imaginary dart-throwing of employees into their boss, whose avatar they often hand up on walls in their offices in place of target) is considered to have the greatest popularity. The greatest speed of dart-throwing at the lowered accuracy rate can be achieved by persons of deviant behavior and self-declined-offended-sad way of life (bums, prostitutes, addicts, prisoners, etc.)

Katana Of Honor

Weapon of ancient samurai warriors (well, and how does it correlate at all with the Middle Ages, hug?), who became world-famous thanks to codes of fighters, strictly observed by them, and following principles of honor and duty. And, if the readiness to offer the life in fight with opponents of his mister can be still somehow understood, but the desire to stuck into yourself a sword the most effective way, having letting out the first (it’s also the last) portion of guts in the process of not less popular “hara-kiri” is somehow much more inconveniently for interpretation of incentive motives.

Due to exotic nature of form, materials and bends of blade, this weapon demands of sustainable amount of trainings and highest extent of concentration and attention – after all, not only the honor, but the life of samurai itself often depended on their combination (well, well, well, where is the connection to the Middle Age, I ask you?). Generally speaking, the fighter who has lost his weapon was considered to be deprived of a honor as well (female Samurais were a big rarity), and the one who has lost honor due to different reason was somehow not inclined to take the blade in his hands anymore.

Well, as the fans of known to us hara-kiri, who have already achieved success by that time and have safely put out their guts outside for the world to see, used to speak, - “protect one’s stomach and honor from the very youth”.

Halberd Of Resistance

Power of action is equal to the power of counteraction? That Newton of yours must surely have lied to you, you more probably you have not got his true ideas truly. This weapon is the best proof that the power of counteraction to the evil is defined by degree on internal goodwill and love of the counteracting one, and in no way by his external physical force. Generally speaking, this weapon was initially intended to be used by defenders of weak and kind of this world from strong and malicious of this world, because till now they have been coexisting in this world in a very peculiar mixture – however further is has been acquired by so-called “guards”, not so always pure of hands, foot and consciousness, and since these old times the skill of forging of copies of weapons of this type has almost been lost.

Possessing a long staff of justice and extremely sharped tip of the truth, this weapon in skillful and just hands can counteract very effectively raids of every possible criminals of honor and conscience, making deep and bleeding cut wounds, capable from caused by them plentiful bleeding to rather fast lost by the attacking one of all his force, aggressiveness, impudence and insistence, making him an easy prey for capture and further forwarding on a court just and fast (and sometimes even sudden). To cut a long story short, it’s possible to tell with confidence: this weapon is almost an ideal option of resisting the evil with non-violence, because the violence is just one of the sides of evil. We have only to discover again and make public those ancient recipes of forging, still transferred among few masters from one generation to the next.

Spear Of Idea

The most ancient of weapons, possessed by our not-so-smart and not-so-far (though judging by passed time interval – just far instead) ancestors (so, once again it has nothing to do with Middle Ages, right?). Copies greatly varies on confessional (well, you know, that even by bunches of ideas people are divided into “schools” by all those scientists-researchers) look and the length of a staff, as well as by a form and sharpness of tips. It may seem strange, but the majority of copies, used by our contemporaries, to tell so, no so strongly vary by design and sharpness of tips from those Neanderthal prototypes left – and despite that fact their successor not without a feeling of own pride dare calling themselves as Homo Sapiens. And if earlier spears were used exclusively for beating off to the death of innocent wild animals in nature, now spears of ideas are used to over-throw with them any heavily armed, yet more sluggish opponents on a close combat.

A special sort of popularity, based on our supervision, is gained by those spears with jagged tip which are being made on a basis of ideas, propagandized by politicians, churchmen, officials and scientists-materialists – spears of ideas, thrown by them, are able in this regard to leave lacerations in souls of wounded, bleeding by feeling of permissiveness and false patriotism (for the sake of which men have been slaughtered and countries were plundered by centuries, as well as hordes of interstate “enemies” were cut out), own congenital sinfulness and inferiority (sinning on the left and right priests, who are “promoting” these feelings in others appeared to be completely lacking this weapon along with conscience), absence of visible meaning of life and joy, daily melancholy and boredom (say thanks to all those pseudoscientific parasitic worms, who have found a new home in your heart and have successfully eaten it to holes) and some others. Let’s also note, no ideally balanced copies which would suite each men, have been forged yet, unlike the great number of masterfully made clones of the last centuries, which modern armourers have been unsuccessfully trying to forge on the mass media plants.

Bow Of Amur

Mystical weapon, according to legends possessed by beings infecting (hurting, inspiring?) human beings with a feeling of love. By tradition such beings are called amurs (cupids) – and that’s not a surprise, because France in 13-16


 centuries was sort of an example and light beacon of Middle Age epoch. If we are to trust the anatomic researches of contemporaries, cupids resemble small angelic children with white wings, playful smile and cheerful nature. The process of transformation of small children into angelic cupids is still not thoroughly studied, however there are assumptions that exactly the opposite transformation sometimes takes place during education of cupids in rough and silly human families. By their very nature cupids are very playful, peaceful and even slightly prankish, they adore to peep at potential lovers and at times very skillfully use bows with arrows of sympathy and love, granted to them from the very birth.

It’s necessary to notice that arrows of cupids not only do not cause any harm to the wounded Souls, but instead fill them with inspiration, joy of life and happiness about which many of them so often forget in a vain and unnecessary crush of route of lives. Evil tongues say that all this occurs because tips of their arrows are covered with special love poison, bringing anesthetizing effect at the moment of wound, however, as soon as its action comes to an end … Generally, those trusting evil tongues as a rule don’t even receiver a slightest portion of attention from cupids. And considering those who don’t mind being wounded and revived, can be noticed by cupids often in the least expected for them moment. Possessing a sufficient sharpness of an eye and accuracy of their small palms, cupids tend to nevertheless miss sometimes and wound those people, who, apparently, shouldn’t be. But, on the other arrow, the ways of cupids are truly inscrutable, right?

Staff Of Wisdom

Simple and plain in appearance weapon, not inspiring any considerable awe into the hearts of uninitiated (unlike the same effects of “Hammer Of Half-Truth And Lie” or “Axe Of Anger”), but potentially possessing great mystical properties. Traditionally and deservedly it was considered as an attribute of grown wise men (we ask you not to confuse these ones with those grown experienced, for not every experience leads to the growth of wisdom), helping them moving through life, leaning on it from time to time.

It’s hard to call the one carrying the staff of wisdom as a warrior in full sense of the word, because, as we all know, the true warrior wins a fight without battle, and wisdom of its bearers allows them to evade from useless verbal and ideological fights, however blows of the master of staff are as a rule bring a solid stunning effect, for rather often they strike either cinciput, eyebrow on an eye of the opponent. Masters of this weapon during the process of transformation of own Soul, often called as enlightenment, are able to give their weapon true magical powers (thunder or repentance, lightning of understanding, fireball of inspiration), making it as of such one of the most terrible arms, causing panic and havoc in ranks of whole armies of their sleeping through their lives opponents.

Horseshoe Of Good Luck

And how did it manage to come through? Well, all right, let it be the. Those are Middle Age, after all…

02.05.2012




When a veil falls


He was the president of the country. 

A large technologically developed state. Military technology, natural resources – everything was in plenty. The newest bacteriological weapon, keeping in awe all neighbors – he has even published a decree of its “authorized” usage in the begun war with frontline democratic “state”. 

Democratic … damned fools ! Pathetic liberals, benefactors of people ! No, they simply didn’t know the force of absolute power. Total dictatorship, complete control over every word and even thought of each inhabitant of your country … a feast for a whim ! All scientific minds, mobilized into development of even more frightening and horrific types of arms … Single-handed decision-making, a will to execute and pardon … Daily hymns, sung to you in each house, each apartment … of course ! – because the punishment for those found guilty is death – instant and painful death under the concentrated plasma stream.

There were no dissatisfied ones … or at least those, trying to openly declare it … Psychogenerators, scattered near borders of this country, did their job right – now he is free to force people think how he desires. Mental waves of total variety, last invention of psychophysics – and human is under your full control. Cause either elation, either hysterics, either unlimited aggression in which, being armed with newest “gizmos” of military technology, human became almost universal machine of destruction …

He could do everything. And he enjoyed it.

Has drowned in blood the revolt in the frontline island state. Has left lifeless desert on southern suburbs of his country, where hordes of enemy have dared to intrude – the same whitish desert remained in all territory of the attacking state. Threatened to throw off the newest modification of psychoneutron bomb on the neighbor, who was unwilling to yield convenient trade routes, having destroyed all mental potential of the pigheaded one – he gave up very quickly, having become the witness of demonstration of its possibilities in small scales …

He possessed all. Everything was below him – he was above everything. He was the president of the state …




* * *




Mechanics peep. Red measured words on the X-display screen – “Your account is empty. Please replenish your balance”. Damn ! The end …

Slowly unhooked from a body sensors and controls, the nejro-pulse helmet, removed from his head. That’s all. Game over …

A lonely thought, spinning in the head : “eat”. So … where is a food here ? He has turned his head around. Oh, here … just near the terminal. A needle, inserted into a vein … very soon nutritious liquor will be soaked up and carried by blood through the organism – it should suffice for some days. Should suffice … a shrill sound signal … done. He has pulled out a needle.

So …. he has rummaged around his pockets. Twenty credits … not enough … only for sixty-seventy hours … heck … no matter.

A helmet, being dressed again. Heaps of wires and connections, fitted to a body. A token, put into a machine, which has greedily grasped it… Satisfied mechanics peep.

Start. The virtual world never waits.




* * *




City streets, lightened with lanterns. A signboard over one of many buildings – “Salon of virtual findings”. Hundreds of terminals over the walls. People, sitting in them. 

Next terminal … a twitching man, braided by mechanics. A stream of saliva, slowly flowing down on a floor … The face is not visible – it’s being covered by a small helmet. Peeps of equipment …

He was the head of the largest mafia organization …




05.10.2010




When the sun will rise


Heavy-heavy eyelids. Slowly opening eyes. A cloudy sight. A haggard sick face. 

A man, lying on a bed. Dimmed light. Curtained by something dark windows. The setting sun …

A fluttering crimson haze before the eyes – the body is not felt at all, some rubbish is still spinning in a head …unclear semiwhistle-semirurstle, poured in a premise. 

An effort – and he hardly managed to open his eyes.

A face in a white surgical coat, bend over him … a calm sight. The face attentively studies him, looks in his eyes – as if looking in soul – and gradually departs.

There are no more powers to keep looking … he has closed his eyes again. It’s now possible to listen to … only to try to understand and remember – to remember and realize yourself.  He must do it … he did not remember even why, actually, he have to, but only one thing – must.

A quiet-quiet conversation very-very nearby – that man in a white coat was engaged into unhurried dialog with someone another. He spoke very faintly – didn’t want to be overheard. 

He must hear it, he have to ! Must understand, where is he and what’s with him. He has strain oneself greatly, trying to decipher habitual human words in flying sounds.

- … to do.

- But we cannot allow it. After all … … living. He … a human.

- … a choice ?

- … always is !

- He has … symptoms … Virtual ski…is…i syndrome … he is not long for this word … a day or two at most.

- … but they are. We cannot … allow … to die.

- … State-of-the-art capabilities … do not allow … irreversible change … cells … of a brain … Horrific weapon … monster … virtual reality … physical influence of virtual world … Electrochemical stimulation … cells … altered … brain impulses … mental waves … almost like alive … no way !

- Really … he … no hope ?

- You … his medical record.

- … have brought yesterday. And just the next day … should die ?

- … so, unfortunately … no means.

- … My God ! … dies … ble … death … cannot aid !

- … regret it very much.

- …….

- Go, make arrangements …  to make asleep … last … long dream. … Capsule … life-support … two hundred years.

- … I shall do.

- … go.

A noise of door, softly closed by automatics after the left person. The same man in a white surgical coat has approached him once again. Smoothly bend head, a penetrating glance … confusion and pain on a face – pain and hope. His words, addressed to him …

-    … forgive … Have to … to make … for you to survive … have to survive … no other way possible … not now. Impossible … Until mankind realizes, what it creates … until denies … virtual substitutes of life … Festering abscess … on a mankind’s body … must get rid themselves … choose life themselves … real … living … life … until … no … most advanced medicine … will never be a … ure … Understand … cure … in strength of spirit … to make … right choice … again … forgive us … cannot do other way … Put asleep … two hundred years … When the sun will rise … will revive … when … real life … not … pitiful glitches in a brain … only then.

A whistle and noise again.

Opened doors … entering people – lots of people in white surgical coats. Life … life … real life … he has just now started to feel its taste … in that condition in which he was … only now … before this … A headache – the wild pain which has cut through a brain – darkness before his eyes … no ! Hands, shaking him … he must regain consciousness, he is alive – they have understood it. They will fulfill their duties.

A longest dream. Several centuries … he will regain consciousness when the night will come to an end … and the sun will rise … rise over mankind. Maybe he will once see this world again.

Bend faces … grief on them. The approaching mechanics … And words, words, which rushed into his ears like a wild roar of sea waves – “Meet this time … be happy … in real life … Farewell !”.

Pain. And the oblivion…




05.10.2010




World on the horizon


That was disgusting. Nay, that was terrible. Only four hours after “officially legislatively approved dates of time of rest” has passed, and all shops have been closed. Not a single one from those necessary to him, worked so early … or late – whatever is proper to each one … Damn !

He needed one shop … just a single shop, trading the necessary stuff. All those twenty ones familiar to him, which he has flown by on flycar, “have been closed due to upcoming professional holiday of sexual minorities in accordance with the official decree of the capital’s mayor". All of them !

Damn !

Such legislative citizens … such angels. Wolves in the sheep skins. Three out of twenty of these downtown-shops traded dreamcatcher, nineteen out of twenty traded kayfan, ten out of twenty – lisben. It’s, of course, the informal statistics – according to official reports, contained in the central database of the State department, everything was clear. Crystal-clear. Too clear to be truth.

And this are those, who should in every possible way to “help and assist in every manner” of preservation of citizens’ health … wolves in sheep skins. 

And yet that very dreamcatcher has been forbidden for application, manufacturing or any use in the collateral purposes in all state’s territory. The strongest possible drug, made about five years ago as a by-product of some super confidential  research of scientific laboratories of Pharmatheuticals United, it was capable to change human’s brain completely. Not some weak hallucinogen – it completely changed person’s vision of his surroundings after the injection of only one milligram into the blood. It was, actually, nicknamed as such, “a dream catcher” – all deep layers of human’s sub consciousness were revived, ten, twenty, thirty years-old memory came to life – all in one instant, all like a raging stream … and this was even better than VR – for no additional equipment was necessary anymore, no electrodes … human’s brain could do everything – it was simply necessary to aid a little.

Who of us did not dream ? And dreams of how many did come to life ? This devil’s drug made this possibility absolute – and you have been living through all your twenty, thirty, or forty years in these several days … in the world of your illusions, though, but was this really important ? All your dreams came true – all those, provided by deep memory. And approximately a month later a human died – his brain was simply “burnt down”. The brain simply did not survived.

Really, that was a very fascinating death. To die, feeling with the rest of your fading consciousness, that you are happy – for you are fulfilled. For your dreams – here they are, all in front of you, – all came to life, and who the hell cares what sort of dreams were these. To die with a blissful smile on your face …

It was supposed to be given to dying people, whose chances of survival were equal to zero. But they have miscalculated. Two-three percent of the state’s population died of its usage annually – and they were not doomed people. Fifty percent of these ones were not even thirty years old …

And then they sounded the alarm. And then they have published their decrees. And then they have mobilized that Liberty Security State Police Department … late. Too late.

“The love has come – die, love, oh damn !”, - a phrase from recently seen interactive movie has emerged from sub consciousness. Yet this love lived on. And internal security service could no nothing. 

It’s like a plague, like pestilence – it will not stop until almost all are left dead. And these were just the florets.




* * *




Almost an hour has passed since the moment of the begging of his searches – and he has not even found a single shop, trading in preparations, lowering level of testosterone, adrenaline and related hormones in blood – something, that could save his body when a radio channel’s video stream of information will be transmitted to his nejro-pulse helmet – information, of whose “content’s purity” he has ceased to dream a long time ago. To rescue his body at the very least … he had no more hopes of rescuing his soul.

And all of this is just by a holiday of sexual minorities.

How have you though it over … how predicted. Sexual minorities … oh, sure ! A real orgies will take place there, and not only those of minorities. And there have been no signs of any “contraceptive toolkit” for two years already after the publishing of resolution “Of the termination of distribution of contraceptives and preparations with purposes of increasing of birth rate in the country” of our oh-so-beloved president.

Still hoping to compensate natural losses, aye? Two percent of “dreamcatchers”, one percent of the military men, one percent of the "accidents", half percent of murders, the one third of percent of "unidentified deaths”, the one sixth of percent of those, who nevertheless has not managed to emigrate away from here … and this is not the full list by any means.

You will not recover that way – your disease has gone too far. You are too sick to become healthy once again. And those who understand cannot tell it anymore – for the global Mass Media Interactive Network is not for them anymore … never was for them. Only for the government, only for multinational corporations under their “giving hand”. And you could even participate in all this – take, for instance, that interactive sex-orgies that will be broadcasted on all channels “with a purpose of familiarizing of the population with sexual culture and stimulation of natural needs of men and women”. 

What idiot has issued this resolution ?! … even its name is idiotic. Bless you, it surely must have been a big person – too big to “stimulate his natural needs” together with mad people crowds in the upcoming day …

Never forget a hand that feeds you … providers of Mass Media content did not forget.

A chip on the right hand has emitted a high-frequency sound impulse and has confirmed it with predefined sequence of IR-signals.

Damn ! This was dangerous ! This means that he has left the edge of his quadrant in today’s night patrol. This means that after ten minutes this very chip, built into his left hand, - and now also serving as universal biopassport, such a “smart-human-card” in a minitiature, - will send a series of radio signals in Liberty Security State Police Headquarters - his "native home" of sorts - only a series of radio signals which will be retranslated through the governmental stations. Informational stream, ciphered by the newest cryptographic invention SSC-51200, in which numerical postfix also designated length of a key…

Only a series of radio signals … and he will be up to the neck in problems. The internal security service disliked it very much, when its employees did not execute orders.

It was necessary to come back. He was not in time. 

This means, that once again he has to writhe from pain, resisting his body’s desires, when video streaming will begin. This means, that once again he has to try to close his eyes – only to receive painful discharges from this damn multifunctional Security State Police Department VMSS helmet – having no possibility to remove it – because as soon as a signal with the information on the scanned retina of his eye will not be transmitted – he’s a criminal. This means that he should die once again.

Almost like those dreamcatchers – almost with a blissful smile on his lips … almost happy.

“You’ve chosen the way.

And you’ve become prey.

Forgotten you have paradise,

And thus received thy hellish prize.

Yes, it was you who’ve rolled the dice…”, - it seems, that such stanza of some newly born poet he has recently seen in still free part of the Net. It seems, the author called it “Appeal to the human”. And he is so damn right in something …

To look for him, maybe … a brother in arms by misfortune … the derelict of this world… Heck, to find … this one must have already joined the Underground Resistance Force – and thus became impossible to be found. For ten years his department was engaged in searches of these insurgents and fighters for “spiritual freedom” – and only their smallest and insignificant agents have been caught, and only one headquarter destroyed.

I am keeping fighting with my brothers, keeping struggling against them … and have no the slightest idea of how to stop it all … cannot stop it … not anymore.

Sometimes they made it. Sometimes they broke – miraculously -  through all information covering – and broadcasted on the broadest possible range of frequencies – mainly speech and sometimes even video … for ten minutes only. Then they were blocked once again … however no one has ever found the true source of signals – not in his life.

Sometimes it was invocatory speech to see that already deformed nature of the majority of people, sometimes it was the statistics of human deaths during previous years – numbers and lines of texts, unfamiliar for those profane. Sometimes it was video records from places of military operations and speeches of how people have been drugged into this war by their government – for the sake of interests of the government itself and that cursed “hierarchical minority”. Sometimes it were such verses which he has found yesterday – by the divine will alone still being kept in the Net.

Sometimes … three-four times a year – no more and no less. And for all the rest time there were those Mass Media Interactive corporations.

There will be a holiday of sexual minorities tomorrow … in ten days after it – a holiday of military … there we will once again see heart-touching frames of how our brave soldiers defeat treacherous enemy and how he, this enemy, continue to retreat under their unstoppable pressure – has been retreating for five years already …

Then there will be a holiday of the man, and a holiday of the woman … the new woman and the new man. Then the day of overall scorn to those in the Underground – sort of official “phew” of the powerless government to the members of Underground Resistance Force. Then there will be a day of prostitutes – not that much different in its nature from the day of the woman … there will be so much.

So many holidays … so little joy. So much pleasure. And once again all in a circle the next year. But for now this was completely unimportant. It was time to go back, he had at most about five minutes before the entry into a zone of the patrolled quadrant. The patrol has been completed … his home awaits.

He has turned his flycar, turned on autopilot mode. Now it will travel to LSSP base by itself, automatically regulating its height and evading counter streams of similar happy owners of this transport, and will land on one of free platforms on the base. Nothing more is required. The technics will do everything for you … almost everything.

Then he will make his report on the performed patrol – everything is normal, no suspicious activities have been revealed, no incidents have occurred. Everyone is happy and content … everything is just fine. A paradise on the earth in the borders of his patrolled quadrant … hellish paradise.

He has leant back on a seat and closed his eyes. He had to rest for a while. A difficult day awaits him tomorrow.




03.10.2010




Wrath of war


A whistle of a flying shell. Air, dissected by an iron pig. Explosion. Explosion – just behind the next hill. 

Missed. Missed again.

Alive. I am alive ! Still alive.

Have missed the mark, slightly – but have missed. Lucky enough ?

And how many times again must he be lucky enough during all these days, to remain alive ? How many ?

However, it could be worse – much worse. Worse than when his lung was shot and he has been gasping since then, sucking air into lungs with some sobs, and releasing it outside – still hot, warmed by his organism air … air of war and destructions. Even worse than when explosion of a grenade has deprived him of his three hand’s fingers … instead of them – bloody-stained lumps.

A nevertheless he is still alive, living in this mad war. Alive among hundreds and hundreds of other mad ones.

Will he last for long ?

A machine gun fired nearby. Into entrenchments ! – where the killing iron will not reach him. To the ground – the ground of native land … the country, which was hardly resisting enemy’s onslaught. The enemy … How, when these people, just the same as he is, when have they become his enemies ? Why enemies ? What a monstrous absurd and error must have occurred that they suddenly became enemies ? Another madness ?

Anyway, they are enemies now. Worse than that – the hungry beasts, feasting on corpses of killed and wounded, rejoicing with each death of hated enemy … next cut thread of human’s life … human … No, they are not like humans now … not anymore. Each of them – is not a human anymore. They were like them, in their former lives – but not anymore. No.

Since this madness of war has begun. 

And once again a whistle of a machine gun and a desperate shriek somewhere far in these entrenchments. His comrade has died – a brother by motherland, by faith, by customs. Yet another stopped life way. Yet again a grief for his parents – if, of course, they are still alive … One more life, put on the altar … what for ? For the sake of what all this war was started ? Territories ? Resources ? Money ? World influence ? But how insignificant all these temporal goals in comparison with one – yes, with a single stopped human life ! And there are hundreds and hundreds of them by each day.

Enemies couldn’t feel regret. They had no desire to understand. They had to kill – kill their enemies. Same people as they are.

And this was the most awful, the most horrific that a blinded by the power and riches human mind could invent. A mistake, terrible mistake … unforgivable mistake. An error, which price is – the split blood – the blood of wounded and dying people, blood of those, who once were them. An error, which price is – ruined cities and destroyed families, corrupted human fates. An error, which price is – unleashed war of two nations.

The war … and for how long will this war ever last ? Until last soldier is killed ? Until all major cities of the enemy are wiped out from the face of Earth ? Until the flame of grief inflames all far horizons of this country – a country, whose destiny is to be subdued. To become a raw appendage of more powerful state and – more aggressive – those which begun the war, made a monstrous mistake for which both will have to pay.

They will not withstand – he knew it. Technics, weapons, resources – enemy has all it in plenty. Much more that they can dream of. They had only one thing left which has played such a malicious joke with them – natural resources, riches of Earth interior – the motherland, where he has to die. He has to die, seeing coming victorious forces of the enemy, seeing their proud and blind delight of a victory, seeing their hatred to those survived – civilian population … to survived civilians – if, of course, there will be many left. He hoped there will be many. It must be many – for sometimes after decades and decades his country could reborn.

And still he has to fight – along with other your men, quickly mobilized and driven on the front lines soon after the beginning of war. Hastily trained. Slightly armed. Not murderers – living people.

The burst of machine gun has abated and he has slightly raised his head. As he has suspected – enemy’s infantry was advancing in full order. Damn, it would be so great to have some heavy technics here and now – some tank. Or tanks. But all large forces have already been mobilized in other directions. And they have been abandoned here, against superior forces of the enemy, with almost no means of protection. They have been left to die here on the battlefield. Well, he though – to die means to die. There are no other options possible, apparently. A pity, his death will be in vain.

He has suddenly caught himself on a thought of how he can die to grasp as many as possible enemies together with him, for enemies aren’t talked with, they have to be – killed. But whether they would began to kill him if they have happened to meet in different circumstances ? Possibly, they would even become friends. Yes, friends with that very young soldier that has so ineptly got out forward …

A recharge of submachine gun … a sound of taken and inserted charger. A shot. Enemy’s soldier silently falls down with a punched head… One more enemy has fallen.

Ruthlessly killed.

Madness … This is total madness. Humans, transformed into animals and brought for murders. 

Non-humans ? Are there are humans in the war at all, humans – soldiers ? Soldiers, who have still remained humans ? He met and saw those returned from wars time and again – almost nobody from them could get accustomed to peaceful life. Only singles did. For this is war. For this is madness.

Enemies were approaching – without concealing, methodically and openly. They saw and felt their victory – feasted on the victory, feasted each moment with relish. Then they will feast over the conquered territory, too… They didn’t know yet what a monstrous error they have already committed. Mistake, for which they should pay off once…

The columns of the enemy are absolutely nearby – there is no more reason to cover in the entrenchments. The order of their commander, shouted in the air – “Forward !”. And here he is – their commander, leaving an entrenchment – and moving towards the enemy. And falling. Falling without a single shout. But the impulse is picked up – and soldiers rise. Rise on their last fight. The shortest fight possible.

Sounds of discharged weapons. People, dying from both sides. Dying for nothing.

He has risen the time he has heard the order. Has run forward – first, second, third – enemies fell before him.

But a shot finally comes – and pain burns his shoulder. He shots once more – and yet another soldier of the enemy falls down. One more shot – and blow in a breast throws him aside.

Ground. Native ground. You are so close to me now. So close …

A bent face of the enemy. A gunpoint, looking at his forehead. A shot. Last one in his life.




The war …

The madness of war …




06.10.2010




You are


You say, that God does not exist. And I tell you, that He exists no more exclusively for you.

You grieve, that He has forsaken your world long ago. And I reply, that it was you, who barricaded from Him in the smallest world of your own, which has nothing in common with the greater one.

You complain that life is cruel and unfair. And I recommend you to look at yourselves in a mirror in the upcoming morning.

You grieve of the dead ones as those lost to this world forever. And I am starting to assert that they were lost exclusively for the vanity of yours.

You curse your work, thinking of it as a routine which takes away the time of your life aimlessly. And I ask you, what will your life look like without your work on yourselves?

You despise your enemies. And I know, how they all become the stones of non-hindrance on the road of life, once you have finally grown the wings for flight.

You all thirst for love, but, finding none, are ready to jump from the rocks of broken hopes into abysses of hatred. And I desire to know the true value of such feelings.

You state that life makes no sense and holds no purpose. And I will whisper to you, that you did not even try to search.

You declare the impossibility of possible, and deny incredibility of the obvious.  And I see, how previously impossible becomes obvious, and incredible becomes possible.

You guess that life is inconceivable without movement. And I ask you not to confuse impulses of soul to petty vanity.

You worry that you do not understand others. And I am interested in questioning you – “Do you even know yourselves?”

You pursue life’s success in hopes to get it in time, and are ready to walk over others heads. And I tell you that you are always late, for you have chosen wrong road.

You feel proud that belief is not necessary to the learnt.  And I ask you whether you could learn, not believing in the possibility of the learnt ?

You speak of generosity and share pieces of stale bread, continuing to consume red caviar over both your cheeks. You speak of goodwill, and draw a knife behind each other’s backs. You speak of wisdom and share thousand and one way to deceive those close to you. And I dare to believe that you will open your eyes one day and stop confusing darkness to the light.

You question, how I can state what I do not know. And I advise you to pour out ashes from bags of your knowledge.

You tell me that I repeat myself and cross spots, passed previously, again. And I will simply ask you to look up.

You will tell that it is banal. And I will continue hoping.

You will tell that you have heard and passed all this before. And with a grief in my eyes I will watch you passing by once again …




27.09.2010




Yours choice, mankind !


A blinding light of neon advertising struck in the eyes.

“Only here! Free sex! Men-women, men-men, women-women! All possible combinations! Only 20 credits for unforgettable night! Make yourself pleased!”

And just nearby on another building - “Virtual sex with world stars! Feel yourself famous!”

A slow turning. The first, second, third building - everything sparkled with red and crimson fires and suggested to feel “true taste of life”, as it has been written on a signboard of the next stocky construction, inviting “grandiose inhabitants of our capital” to take unique part here and now in summoning of “powerful spirits from underworld” under the direction of “the great prophet”, whose name “is so powerful that cannot even be said aloud”.

People were passing on nearby - they all were dressed in some sort of dark clothes and their faces were turned towards the ground. It almost seemed as if they didn’t notice him.

What a strange world is that? He didn’t remember himself living in it earlier.

He slowly moved forward, studying city vicinities. He had no more doubts that he somehow appeared inside a city.

Streets were lightened up by long lines of dim lanterns. “And how can they distinguish anything in such a darkness? - an overdue amazement came to his mind.

But the ones living here apparently didn’t desire to notice anything, except for but few things. Here some bent townsman ran into a nearest building. A newcomer turned his head to behold a next signboard. Large shining dark-crimson letters were imprinted on its surface:

“Fights without rules. Life is just an instant in the eternity. Death is a release”. And a bit more after - “The property of a lifeguard service of grandiose inhabitants of grandiose capital”.

And once again a painful push of a thought coming - “where am I?”




* * *




He kept moving down the night streets of this city, and new and new pictures were opening for him. 

“Your relative is just a human. But you are the God. Prove that! Best weapons and ammunition from military warehouses! Life is a prison. Death is a release”. And familiar words, written a bit lower on a board - “The property of a lifeguard service of grandiose inhabitants of grandiose capital”.

And once again, more and more … Dazzling light of crimson fires …

“Virtual club ‘Illusion’. A virtual model of a capital - and you are its lord. Feel yourself a God! Property of Virtulex Enterprise corporation”.

“Roulette of doom. Now it’s your “rolling”, mortal!” And once again an additional text, written lower - “A place with no losers, for life is a curse, and death is a release!”

“Slaves we are not. Give aggressor a strikeback! Vote for the “Ashes” project. Each invader gets a nuclear bomb!” And lower - “Institute of sociological research of the Ministry of Attack and Defense”.

Buildings, buildings, buildings … Fires, fires, fires …

This city made one mad. Something suppressed his will and tried to make him behave the same way - having forgotten of everything, run into a nearest tavern, or a sex-dance-club, or virtual “snack bar” - and for many hours to cease remembering any longer.

Of who you are. Of whom you should be. And of what you’ve become …

It seemed as if something terrible laid down on his shoulders, trying to press him down, flatten out, turn into nothing that one, who’s not consent with that order of things. The city itself, apparently, was going to finish off this impudent intruder, not corresponding with its essence - and its rules of life.

He kept and continued moving hour after an hour. And nevertheless he kept moving, hoping to see a gleam of light somewhere. But no matter where he turned to, there was all the same on each new street. Same sinister buildings, as if engulfed in crimson fires, same writhed people with some sort of absent expression of their eyes, entering and leaving them, same human words, constantly forming inhuman phrases.

He could go no more - he suddenly terribly desired to lie down on a street and die. Just to lie down and be no longer - to no longer observe all he had to, to see it no more. To get rid of it as a nightmare. 

One more step. And again. And again. A hit - and he embraced the ground. Oblivion …




* * *




He opened his eyes and raised a head over the ground, trying to figure out what has happened. Distinguished a building nearby - and a sharp flash has lit up his memory.

“N-n-n-o-o-o! Only not here! Not here again!”

That was not a dream - he was observing a very same city. Almost nothing even changed, unless for a bit darker surroundings - probably the night has finally reigned. Then he dropped himself on a ground once more and moaned - from a despair and hopelessness. He had no wish no live on here - and had to. What for? What for?!

Silence. Deadly silence. The night city has been already sleeping.

Silently was he lying on a granite roadway, paved by black marble - and just as silently tears were flowing from his eyes, leaving a clear transparent trace. He didn’t remember what was going on after these moments - merciful memory has erased these instants of time from him. When he has regained consciousness once again, he remembered only despair - and a city in which he was for now - a city, which has covered the sun like a dark giant.

He distinctly remembered that all. He did remember so much more.

He remembered how he rose up and started wandering the streets once again. Was wandering aimlessly. He was obliged to move anywhere, to do anything - something to help him forget of the horrors of this world - ones, perfectly constructed by its own inhabitants.

He moved by open buildings of sex-dance clubs and saw hundreds and hundreds of embraced seminude bodies, jumping and spinning while dancing with some breaking off and tearing rhythm.

He saw how three humans in a street amicably injected themselves some sort of things, reminding syringes, and just a moment later tumbled down where they were standing on a roadway with a blissful expressions on their faces.

He observed how in some lane, in which he has casually turned, three men have fitfully nestled to each other and started quickly taking off clothes from each other, only to fall to the ground and start swirling on it afterwards.

He saw so much more. He could do no other.

He observed a planet and its continents. Observed, how dark stains started forming and grew in various areas. Observed, how light dots appeared in different locations, they too grew and extended - and faced the dark waves - and disseminated them. But there were so few of them- and running waves of darkness absorbed many, leaving no trace. Gradually dark stains filled all continents one after another – and in these moments some sort of crimson flame surrounded them - and they disappeared from a planet’s map, being covered by a massive dark cloud. During such instants a wild inhuman laughter filled a space and forced him to clamp own ears.

And then the earth suddenly started shaking and he has fallen to the ground, being knocked down.

It seemed as if the whole planet started tearing itself apart. Cracks started forming on the ground of all visible streets - and underground fire began breaking its way from these holes. A new tremor thrown him aside.

The very ground started blazing. Unknown underground fire formed small ardent spots at first, then lines, still merging and uniting, absorbing all new grounds. Fire stole up to buildings and they - mysteriously - started burning as well.

Yet inhabitants of this grandiose capital apparently did not care at all of the disaster that was taking place. Through open doors of a close sex-dance club he could see, how crowds of people, still densely embraced, were spinning and shouting something in frenzy - in a building that was already blazing.

“They will lose themselves, they are gonna to die! I have to rescue them!” - thoughts blazed in a consciousness of a mind, filled with a pain.

“They have already died for now”, - a voice came out from the depths of a mind, - “it’s not in your powers to aid them for now. They made their choice. They brought the destruction of their planet with own thoughts and lives - and their own destruction as well”.

A fire, which engulfed the building of a sex-dance club, has been growing stronger with each passing second - all floors of a building were now burning.

Finally the fire reached a bottom floor - in a single instant it absorbed frenziedly shouting and loudly laughing men … and during the same instant all has abated. Only the flame continued storming and its reflections shined through the once impenetrable streets. It was all going on only for several minutes - simple several minutes, which have been engraved in his memory for the time being since then. Almost like all subsequent pictures.

The picture changed. City disappeared.

He stood in the middle of magnificent branches of green trees in some unknown garden. He raised his head - and sunrays shined on his face. After terrific crimson flames of a city of darkness - oh God, how wonderful that was! Clouds and birds were slowly floating on a blue sky, a freshening invigorating wind was blowing in the face.

He observed a sun of a live world, he saw the light. Darkness was gone, it just vanished - and was no more.

All that remained were the cool wind, blowing in the face, green branches of trees, birds, roaming the sky and a feeling of happiness, which has filled his soul.

A cry of joy breached from his breast - he has been shouting loudly for long. He was alive among the live ones once again. He was in the live world.

And then he regained that mystical ability to oversee the whole world at once. To behold it clearly.

He saw green fields, stretched over continents. Saw men, working and living on them, there were smiles, playing on their faces - there was no doubt, that they were glad to live and work here. He felt the very atmosphere of joy, invisibly embracing the planet. He observed how people worked with enthusiasm - artists, poets, common plowmen and workers - from young to oldest. There was no unnecessary and unimportant work here.

He saw that all - and his soul was on the seven sky. 

He observed, how light spots appeared and started growing, how they extend and light up continents, how these shining beams rise to the sky - and heavens of the planet answer them with a dazzling bewitching light. He saw how the planet’s atmosphere is purified and cleaned from dark beams - and how men start breathing with relief. How they sing with joy and smiles start appearing on their lips …   

He saw so much more. These were the minutes, forever engraved in his memory.

And then a different world suddenly took over him.




* * *




Hey, John, what’s going on with you?! Stand up, John!

Ahhh … what’s with me?

It’s better for you to know, I guess. We were travelling through a park and all of a sudden you swayed and fallen to the ground. Is everything all right?

Yes. Yeah … all is … is well.

What happened?

I … I don’t know. I just … simply saw two futures. And two choices … totally different ones. Like the earth and the sky - different … two roads. Do you understand? Two paths for men - for mankind.

Two choices? Two ways? What are you talking about, John? It seems that you have indeed hurt your head too much during falling. I have no idea of what you may be talking about.

Oh, nevermind. Very soon you shall feel it - and understand everything. You will be given your choice. Each of us will be. And as for now … how do you think … let’s go for a competing run till the end of the avenue?




14.06.2011