The importance of stupid questions. Accurate banging on the head. trolley. horses. Work for venture capital investors. Relative Kevorkian. Headhunters. young people. dynasty. Offer - Letteri. Rammstein. Vader. bicycle trainers. green IT. About comments. Meeting of the standing. familiar. By the testers.
Previous chapter:.
Chapter 1. Server.
Chapter 2. Admin.
Chapter 3. Running on the Spot.
Chapter 4. Pornonet.
Chapter 5. Blue threat.
Chapter 6. plot.
Striped blue and surrounded us, it was useless to flee. However, we did not try so strongly acted intoxicated. I noted the edge of consciousness that somehow strong and well vodka to beer attach, long time since I do not astounded, frankly.
Looking around ( with a kindly smile, as I assume now ), I asked the major for me, but probably a very stupid question to others:.
- You do not kill us?.
- Well, you - smiling chef. - Of course not. Do you have a few more chapters in the reserve.
Then, as they say in bad novels, I was plunged into darkness. Usually, this means that on the head with something hard, but gently ( so as not to fatally damage the gray cells, or will not continue ) hit.
I woke up from a soft swinging. Opening his eyes, I found that sitting in a sort of open carriage stroller. My hands were handcuffed to a handrail, marching across the trolley. Nearby sat on a bench Cyril and Sergei, and Michael, also chained, but, apparently, still sedated, was chained to a handrail in front. On the other hand also sat Chef ( the EU, but he had no handcuffs). We went inside of a building for a very long and wide, 8 feet probably, the corridor.
In principle, after all that has happened before, it was possible to expect the worst waking.
But then my attention was attracted by propulsor cart. Instead of horses, or ponies, dogs, or well, or an electric motor, in the end, were harnessed to a cart 3 people. They were dressed in a (very decent at first glance) in striped suits and pulling a cart for lifting, stretching from the jacket. It was evident that they are a little tired, but still ran smoothly without knocking step.
I felt that the continuing obsession with existential.
Noticing that I look at people harnessed, chief asked:.
- A good horse, eh?.
- Hmmm. And who is this? .
- This is a venture capital investors to the backend MySQL, - said the Chief. - Now we are working now.
I sighed, mentally calculated the natural logarithm of the eighteenth degree and tried to concentrate. My head was cloudy in the field of view is constantly loomed a reflection of - it happens when behold the monitor is too bright.
- Well, since all woke up, I'll tell you what 's going on here - chief rubbed his nose and continued, - To start seeming. My name is Herbert Kevorkian, I'm the head of the personnel department of the field north-west branch of the Company.
- Division of Personnel? . - Rather You look like a chief of the calculations. and the final.
Cyril, as I noted, too, had a pretty kind of nailed. Apparently, he also gave to the head.
Then I got accustomed to the large black icon on the chest Kevorkian, which adorned the letters H and R, adorned with skull and crossbones. So, here's an example of someone taking our personnel officers, especially those of them who calls himself a headhunter.
- Employment of personnel officers uneasy - without smiling Kevorkian said. - Good candidates are hard to find, you know, the market is overheated, salary expectations are too high, loyalty is virtually absent. One has to resort to non-trivial steps.
We sat in silence, remembering the recent non-trivial steps of Mr. Kevorkian and his subordinates. No, of course, good IT shnik deystitelno hard to find, all suffer from it, because young people want to just pull grandmother and did not heed wisdom of elders. Will freymovorkov couple, a few examples of the steps will be, and forward to the interview on the lead programmer. And you ask, than the formal parameter is different from the actual, can not say, not to mention the principle of pointers. But why destroy our server, and hit on the head with the candidates?.
But Herbert is still someone I vaguely resembled.
- Excuse me, but Jack Kevorkian have a relative? .
- This is my uncle, - nodded Herbert. - He worked in the subdivision of layoffs, well, I have added a. However, as you know, from our company no one goes, but the dynasty is particularly encouraged. Now, however, he had already retired.
Herbert went on:.
- But we digress from the topic. On behalf of the Company is authorized to, I invite you to work. Please read the preliminary offer c - Letteri.
With these words he gave us three leaves, filled with small slim type.
We looked at each other - a situation once again took on an unexpected turn.
- Do you offer us to work on Aybiem? . - But in what capacity? .
- On the question of 'why' is easy to answer - said Kevorkian - We follow the non-trivial human. Someone trying to attract to their side, someone - to send on the other side. You do decide to check out - even though he did not single out the word ' yet ', but it was impossible to miss.
- And here's how you use it, it is certainly not an easy question - Kevorkian went on, - But we will solve it soon. right now. I drove you to the production shops of the Company and will try to show what we do. Then we sit down together and try to determine the best position for each of you. First we visit the shop coding.
The trolley rolled up to the big metal double door and stopped. Herbert jumped off the truck and opened the door wide open. Rolled out a powerful shaft of heavy music ( in my opinion, it was. 'Sonne. ' Rammstein ) -' ayn, zwei, drei, su kam dir Sonne! '. Herbert pulled the door because of the thick chain and docked it to the guard rail, to which we were riveted, and opened the lock, blocking one of the handles of the handrail.
- Get out - he ordered - Offer Letteri, you can read later.
We got out, slipping the handcuffs to the chain and proceeded in single file along the chain into the room, called the shop coding. Misha was sedated and remained in the cart.
The shop turned out to encode a large room filled with bright light. The walls stretched metal structures up and down the left column, entangled in power lines, the floor consisted of a common metal gratings.
This is all very reminiscent of a hangar from the television show Battlestar Galactica, and in general of such cosmic sagas. However, no spaceships, no saylonok cute to be seen.
In the middle of the room arranged rows of seats, equipped with some kind of hideous devices, with multiple cables sticking out, deep into the seats were people. It was evident that the head of each was a white plastic helmet, and on his hands - the white plastic gloves, and they are constantly stirred, and leading hands in the air.
Above the rows of chairs hung from the metal bridge railing, on which stood a figure, dressed all in black - a black cloak and a hefty black helmet.
When this figure is turned around, I once again felt that break away from reality. Glotnuv air a couple of times, I managed to say:.
- Peel. Darth Vader is, or what?.
- No, this is Kent Beck - Herbert.
It took a couple of seconds before I remembered who the Kent Beck:.
- It's that writer?.
- Yes, the same guru IksPi. This shop is just being developed and tested to the latest techniques of Extreme Programming.
- And why is it so. wearing?.
- Well, he likes Star Wars, - shrugged our escort. - In the end, we do not prevent the individual self-expression and self-determination.
Once again, I looked around and tried to take a fresh look at the situation. It looks like helmets on the heads of the programmers were a virtual reality devices. Well that is very advanced interface, terribly expensive, by the way. Chairs with numerous options and built-in massage. Not a bad job, in general,.
Then I remembered that the canons of XP (eXtreme Programming) is assumed to work in pairs and asked:.
- If it's programmers, why do they sit on one? .
- And there they - and Herbert has shown down through the grate.
I looked and saw beneath the grate a lot of people sitting on a sort of bicycle simulators, which are heavily pedaled.
- They twist generators and produce electricity for his teammates - said Herbert.
- And why. that is, why? .
- This is an important step in saving our planet. Green IT - said Herbert, - As you probably know, our company has launched a program of environmental improvement of information technology. Therefore, we voluntarily give up the supply of servers and workstations with electricity, which is not obtained from organic sources.
- Strong - commented Sergey. - And the lighting and everything else in this way is supplied with electricity?.
- Of course not - surprise, Herbert. - Are we to look like idiots?.
We looked at each other again. In principle, from the perspective of an ordinary office worker, all IT shnik like idiots. This constant desire to redo everything and rewrite, some nonsense about the optimization of business processes. Perhaps here, at IBM, in the center of the world of IT, there is something that we do not know, and that fully explains what is happening around us? .
On a chair in one of the programmers suddenly lit up the red light. Moved from above huge mechanical arm and pulled programmers from the chair. He screamed, fluttering and jerking his arms and legs, but the arm mercilessly dragged him away up, and shouts died away. The other programmers do not even turned.
- This is the violator of team spirit, - said Kevorkian - The third time, broke the format of the comments now, most likely, is designed to lobotomy klizmennuyu.
I guess my eyes got a diameter of tea saucers. Frankly, I never liked people who do not bother writing a proper comment, but so so so so.
- It's okay - I was reassured Kevorkian - We value our staff, no one really critical not suffer. In the end, we have good doctors. And a prestigious cemetery.
At this point, a powerful long-drawn whistle. Soundtrack from Rammstein immediately stopped and began to hear a variety of operating noise. Programmers in their seats and their companions from the bottom moved, the top began to get out of the seat and the bottom - from the saddles bicycle generators. Kent Beck, snoring well, just as the very image of Darth Vader, was the droning voice to give some teams.
- So, let's go away soon - our escort worried - will now be standing meeting, we should get out of here, and then trampled.
We were, ringing chain, wade to the output.
I noticed one of the programmers who got out of the nearest chair and took off his helmet, his face seemed familiar to me:.
- Ruslan?.
He looked at me and now I'm sure he knew we had once worked in a rather gloomy town. He also recognized me and started it up to me, then Kent Beck growled something in his pipe and talking shop Ruslan returned to service.
- Familiar? - Asked Herbert.
- Yes, - I said - but he did not seem to work at IBM.
- All work for IBM, - didactic said Kevorkian - Just a few do not know about.
We left the shop coding, Kevorkian pushed us back into the truck, unhooked the chain, and the doors slammed shut.
- Now - to the testers - announced he smacked his lips at the investors ' But, stray! .
We looked at each other puzzled, because investors have been on the pants, but investors seem to have understood, and briskly Kevorkian took place with the.
End of Chapter 7.
Continued here.
I have almost no dependence, except that an incurable craving to reading books and the need for constant communication. But it has always been very strong dependence on weather. I suffer from rain or cold, as the neat people from accidentally picked up by lice.
February of that year was a particularly nasty. Even in a cup with yogurt I dreamed spongy snow mixed with black water. And in my dreams I saw the dirty snow. In reality, he often gave way to frost. It became easier to breathe, but not easier to live.
It is time we had to carry on the folk group of the regional contest ... Us that to me, Galka, and the hired driver, ... The contestants shoved in ... Voices of the singers acted on the nerves of my patients. Every half hour I had to calm down a big gulp from the bottle. In the healing of the bottle splashed red wine, aloe juice and honey. Because of the first ingredient Galka felt like I was constantly drunk. Jackdaw rarely drank alcohol, and only ... My Galka slurping out of the bottle bravely endured - as it should be brought up a young woman. The driver, moreover, do not pay attention. He watched the road - a brown, fuzzy, which led....
... In that same slot, because this is an unpleasant word has come to my lexicon.
The road is rough, from podskakivany ... Lord, who art in heaven, or in the depths, explaining why I like this car? . During my gap hit the cutting and stitching pain?.
- In the village it was in Olkhovka.
In the village it was in Olkhovka....
Began to warm up the contestants. Ten of them were female, and only a rough, but very cheeky young man belonged alto thirteen. Looking at the child, I thought a couple of years would be able to erect a laurel leaf, ripped off his innocence. But then he remembered about his problem, and drank a swig from a bottle....
- Relax? .
- This medicine - a tragic voice, I said.
Not a bit of lie. This, in fact, it was the medicine, no less popular than the song of my competitors.
The tragedies and sorrows of love the naive young men, and the driver was classified as a blond I have just in the category of ...
He had a blue - presinie eyes, regular features, beautiful hands. I immediately decided to pour their pain by its beauty. Of course, the decision vicious and unfeeling woman. Bad behavior is dictated by the terrible state of the slot, nothing else. Cracked container sheds all of its contents. And my soul flowed drop by drop through a damn tear.
- Is it true? .
- And you tell me - I said, throwing in a bitter brandy of his voice a little bit of sweet spice - watch the road, please.
Of course, on the way back blonde asked me for a phone number and asked me whether you can ... A word from the lexicon of my parents was fun and tickled inside a pleasant expectation. And as I entered the empty apartment, caressed his black dog, and stood under a hot shower.
Bath is contraindicated. Liquor is prohibited. Nor can it be too cold, and I, in spite of bans and higher powers, went through the winter in a very short skirt and very high boots.
I wanted to be acutely sexual, angry, nervous. Emotional state of frustration - the main writer of doping. And I knew that I did not want to be in this life by anyone, but the writer.
Perhaps the gap deliberately drew a poor power to permanently ruin my mood and create the desired emotional atmosphere for creativity?.
The cafe was noisy, smelly, dark and very boring. The table on the left drank a group of local extremist guys. They politely shook hands with me. I twice had a chance to wipe his bloody snot and cauterize the wound with iodine after the fight with the rappers - the same age that their enemies - from sixteen to eighteen. In my blond companion extremists lopsided ungraciously. Hate group to the ... They recognized its me, not Russian, but immediately disliked the appearance of purely Nordic blond, as it came, it appears, from Dagestan.
Right desk greeted, on the contrary, with a blond. There were sad, a little more drunk sluts - kids. I thought that the blond is likely to have tried them all. I felt sorry sluts. First, on the table from them was just a lone bottle of white wine cheap - not for salads, or especially, in the hotter of the girls was not. And secondly, the blond was fatally boring. Romantic as the provincial lady of the seventies, he did not understand humor, nor English, nor the computer slang. And his intellect was not higher than that of the pupil boarding school for children with retarded mental development.
The bluish- gray sadness touched my forehead, as if measuring the temperature. She told me that in bed with the new fan will be very sadly.
- What do we eat? .
- So, so - all the cafes announced Alex ( so it's time to call him by name), - two salad, roast potatoes and steak - two servings!.
- I do not eat meat! . The menu at the cafe were not there, and I'm certainly not a lady. Who am I, which considers itself smarter small sluts, extremists and noble in all respects better than Alexis, I do not know.
I'm just a shell, thrown from the distant warm sea on board a ship of the old decaying. On the ship, the pirates are having fun, dancing, and prisoners are languishing whores girls. A shell lying on the sidelines, and no it does not have emotions. It formed a gap, which slowly dries and destroys the shell.
- Why do not you eat meat? .
- Because I - vegetarian.
Several times he asked, ... Visitors turned into a cafe. I started on the nerves of the rural simplicity of.
- Order drinks. A man waits - a nod to the waitress, I showed.
According to her mockery I thought that with her I slept with a blond. For some reason, he gave the impression of indiscriminate, is capable of any table, and cast under any fence.
But if it were not for these people, and everything shone with a spiritual beauty, goodness and chastity, the writers had nothing to do. It is impossible to imagine a novel or a story, even without the bad guys, evil plots, or just everyday squabbles.
- ...
- I will not vodka - again, I interrupted.
I still was not enough vodka to tease his illness and his aggression - inseparable friend of vodka. I immediately began to tease the skinheads, cuss out the girls, youngsters and send a loud voice to the devil hearted Alexis.
It's boring in this world, gentlemen, cried classic, lived happily by his good friends in the summer vacationing in Italy and contemplating the architecture of St. Petersburg in the winter. I would have him to Italy and boredom instead of the viscous blackish void, which hung in the cafe. Carbonated low-alcohol doping did not help. Alex and came to us at the table of his lisping friend with iron teeth, drank vodka and impressed me with stories about something. I looked to left, then right. But everything in the cafe - the extremists, whores, the waitress drowned in grief. They felt it as tear gas, all at once swept stinking gloom. People, what the hell are you sitting here, I wanted to shout. After all, you are also sick, and even more squalid than me because you do not realize - as the fetus in the womb of mother - alcoholic writhes in disgust, and whence it comes, does not understand.
Then Alex accompanied me to the house. Waving hands in the street shouting: ... And snow-covered timbered houses hung a terrible frost, snow, grind underfoot, as broken glass, all shone, double vision in his eyes and seemed terrible picture of antiutopicheskogo film about nuclear winter.
I thought that luck myself obliged to continue this novel. Angry and irritated - negative feelings, but something better instead of gray sleepy apathy.
In apathy will not write anything worthy of. In general, do not write.
A few days later, I dashed off in one sitting the first two chapters of his novel. They lay on a sheet vordovsky easily and cleanly, not one word was underlined with red wavy chicanery, except obscene, self-. All this thanks to Alex, I thought almost with pride, is not addressed to the blond, and myself, of course,. I stepped over his absurd cries (calmly talk to Alex did not know how ), through the gifts that he brought me (a package bound with a picture of a kitten or krolichka inside - a bottle of wine, chocolate, one orange and one peach). I quietly moved his autobiography, as set out at two o'clock, on the floor of my living room. The story touched a sentimental heart of any. Alexis threw the girl with whom he lived for two years and managed to make her child. I knew this girl ( slut of a large dysfunctional family ), and the cynical thought - oh, the rural youth is a common child of all sexually active youth of the town... And six months before the betrayal she faithfully cared for Alexei, falling from the third floor building, where he is .
It was clear. The girl wanted to marry a primitive, to escape from his drunken family, which had four daughters, two of jeans and three bra Okrut Elaeagnus, and then changed it to something more than money.
After this story, I took Alexis to the bedroom and made him impassively nemudryaschy Zoological Act. The act was tedious and boring. I experienced a stabbing pain and boredom boring.
For small values of the unit was not weak, who could hardly have come into a state of ... all elementary. Injuries to the spinal column does not have consequences.
Alex was sitting in the light of a lamp, beautiful as Apollo, frantically repeating what so cool it has never been. Then he asked me to marry him.
I laughed silently, then said that I get up early tomorrow. And putting him out the door ( in the hallway were kissing and inappropriately loud cries again ), I turned on the computer in the living room, exposed the bank to pineapples and called a taxi.
- You can bring me some wine? .
Up to six in the morning went on a creative frenzy. I drank wine out of coffee mugs, seized by pineapple and pounded on the keys. Then I fell asleep for a couple of hours, pressed to the heart of a sleepy puppy that night puzzled clung to my feet.
The extraordinary lightness in the head there after a night of wine and the future of the novel. Scary nemartovsky felt frost, lack of sleep - even more so. I was happy crunching snow, and even abdominal pain did not interfere. I do not care that I was going to die. I have time to write a novel, and therefore, physical death is indifferent to me. Written word - it is thought the cloned. Forever remaining thoughts - immortality is more akin to reality than those born children, built houses and planted by the village. Because children are dying at home devouring fire, cut down trees to build houses next generation dream of immortality.
Galka has already nervous about the cold. Entrusted to us the culture department of the contest will not be able to snowmen. On such a cold the snow is not glued, crumbles....
- What do I do? .
Eugene, molodyaschayasya woman of forty-three years, which considers itself a large and important authorities, ran towards us and shouted angrily. Holiday Carnival - an important event. We want to break it to his irresponsibility?.
- We can not include the batteries of heaven, - I answered.
On the way to work I managed to swallow the bank devyatigradusnoy Pop. It is nice to lay down wine at night, and it was fun to look at Eugene and the psycho distressed Galka.
- Moreover, we have prepared a fallback.
- What?.
- Drawing contest, which we will have in the room. In three categories: ...
For myself, I have added: ... But felt sorry for Eugene. It really almost cried. She wanted to please the district authorities. She wanted to curry favor in the post, which took only a month.
- Now, hang your ad, and people will draw instead of modeling.
How to fuck people, when on the street on Sunday, ten in the morning and cold tridtsatigradusny. I felt the heat from the novel, who has lived in me, and the realization that I am free of all. I'm not waiting for her husband at home, as Galka, I 'm not afraid of high officials, like Jack, I do not hang on the children, as participants in the drawing contest.
I did my pain is not related. I'll come home a couple of pills glotnu dipyrone, and you shut up, foul gap.
Snowmen were drawn. prizes handed out. Jack continued to ride with a microphone on the main square, where other crazy residents of Liberty climbed naked from the waist up on the poles for hanging boots prize. And I went home, and smiling as long as no ringing phone in your pocket shubeyki.
- Hello. Hello. It's me, - said the voice from a past life.
- Hello, Alexander, - I answered - with Happy birthday.
- Do you remember...?.
- Of course, I remember. Sorry, I did not call itself. I thought you were still in hospital.
- I've been out there. I have not had acute. I put just for prevention, I'm not crazy violent....
He wanted to tell you something, and called me as before - priceless. And this is not followed. I dropped the phone in the snow, not from weakness but from anger, my tears flowed, instantly ledeneyuschie. Gone was the euphoria spilled out of the stomach pain is delighted reptile.
Up to nine years, I have not thought about why I given the nature of this gap. In the nine years I have red hair sprouted on his body down, and the gap has become sticky white goo wring. It was very nasty - from that moment on there was my disgust to the bottom floor of a human life. It seems a long time has grown, educated, good sleep a thousand times with all sorts of different ways, whether hormonal manifestations of disdain children's development?.
What is now - a dry, dead and stuffed inside the red-hot needles - of course, worse.
We arrived at the cafe - I, Galka, bespectacled Nina, Angela fading, alone, without men - to celebrate March 8. The Russian daily mockery of feminism. The coffee shop were only human females. Young, with scarcely the outlined nuclei breasts blossomed in which the breasts bulged daring clothes, mature, whose charm is already evident among the poor rolls of fat and old, shaking empty folds of flabby skin. Everything sparkled with sequins, Lurex and gold chains. All the hair on the head swayed buildings - three hundred, five hundred and a thousand two hundred rubles, depending on the length of hair and the hairdresser conceit.
Not a single man.
But, jostled in the crowd Inflamed solitary females two drunken teenager, but appeared a bald fat guy. Teens, fearing an abundance of aggressive female bodies, fled. And the guy was attacked by a whole bunch of ladies age - they took him into the circle, danced around the pseudo- dancing and enticing views and swaying bodies: fuck me! .
Horrible holiday, I thought, picking a cabbage salad with a fork. Rampage hungry slits. The air is saturated with female pheromones to such an extent that now kindled. From the oxygen molecules will samozarozhdatsya human embryos. And all - female....
Festival reached its climax when the stale aunt fifty -something began to attack the dance at the young blonde shlyuhovatuyu. At first it all looked like a joke. Just funny dance. Just the ladies drank. But then on Auntie unbuttoned blouse, to tear a piece of white hung loose belly and boobs in old-fashioned bra. Without noticing it, aunt, shaggy, red and sweaty, then the blonde grabbed his stomach, below. The people around did not know whether to laugh or spit.
- How many lesbian women, - I said Galka - the time it sits inside, drunk and on the bench spills....
- This woman - director of pension for the disabled - said Galka mockingly disgusted voice - as a nurse girl working there. Well so have to dopitsya!.
At this point, blond nurse, apparently, more sober, ran away, and her partner turned to me. Perhaps, in the twilight of a cafe she did not distinguish those. Or she believed the mantra ...
...
From nausea caused by an abundance of female flesh, an urgent need to try muzhichatiny. I called the blond. He gleefully shouted into the phone now, come!.
And... we went by taxi to it.
Alex lived together with his brother. More precisely, with his brother and brother's mistress. Girlfriend was pregnant with her fifth month. And she had the sister izmenschitse, once abandoned by Alexei.
This strange family lived in a large good-quality private home. The courtyard house was lost in the snow. At the gate hung on a computer printed message: ...
- Why is sold? .
Alex, we have purchased taschivshy dozen cans of a variety of swill, muttered something about the desire to return to Dagestan. And then, without any connection with the previous remark, began to shout, how cool with it, we 'll live in this house.
In the hallway smelled strongly of old sheepskin, birch brooms, and mice. Under his feet rattled a bucket and some tools. It was impossible to see the interior - light - sorokasvechovka overgrown dirt.
The house was a large number of rooms, small rooms, and closet cubbyhole. In one of them we found Alekseeva brother and his lover. The girl lay on a wide bed with leopard blanket, she wore erotic short robe and her hair fell on the shoulders of the waves. Brother Alexis, quite unlike his short brown hair, dyed a girl toenails painted scarlet.
- Well, you're a fig a perverted! . - Alan, you look at the crazies!.
I have seen too many psychos in my life abound, so with great pleasure that looked on a Russian stove, hand- painted by his brother Alexei. The painting reminded me of the owner of voices from the past. The owner of a beautiful voice drew much more pretty, though more and more architecture and urban landscapes. A stove was daubed on the blazing fire and flying upward pigeons - the picture in the style of ...
I knew what I wanted. Get drunk and go to their thoughts. I need a fair-haired Alex was in the role of drinking companion and only - neither of which did not want to think of intimacy.
By the end of the month, it became clear that living with constant pain inside can not be. Her mother scared me all sorts of incurable ailments and the inability to have children. I do not know whether I want kids. It seems the only thing I dreamed that spring - is to get into the warm, dark burrow, curl into a ball and sleep forever.
But the ailments that threaten me, in the words of my mother, did not provide the possibility of quiet and sweet to die. They promised the chemotherapy, vomiting, hair loss and multiple picking my innards with a sharp metal.
I gave up and went to the regional city of the doctors.
The regional city has been even more wet, gray and heavy than my tiny town. And seemed to be a concentration camp hospital, workhouse, spetspsihiatrichkoy - anything, just not a place where you will regret, and cure. The doctor was under the weather and become the building. The old, wrinkled, sour, spiteful.
... - ...
I felt sorry for value for money and even more sorry for himself.
- A terrible erosion. Nightmarish, ugly, - exclaimed the old woman. - I think this is not the erosion already... you need to contact the office of cervical pathology. And it would be better to excision.
That's all. My grandmother saw the good, or better still scratching their money for good vision. Erosion of this magnitude would have seen even a plumber, I think. Purpose of treatment, apparently, was not part of the amount received by an experienced doctor.
- So, excision should be done - my mother said firmly, - nothing in it is not okay. Let's go to the regional oncology and make.
- And why in oncology? .
Maybe the old woman, a doctor secretly whispered to me, my mum that my affairs are very bad, and will soon come kirdyk. In Russia 's not to say the truth to the patient. Tell the truth to his family, to torment them morally. The patient suffers physically - before the coming of his game-over are subjected to numerous vivisection in Oncology.
My mother began to explain to me that all serious diseases are treated better in oncology, and besides - there is in fact free.
For the opportunity to be a guinea pig, humane medicine does not take money.
I listened to my mother's explanation, looking at the snow and rain and I thought that just in this big park we once had a quarrel with an artist who loved to paint architecture. He ran after me shouting on the Square, and is not ashamed of the people: ...
Then it was a sunny day. Then I have not hung oncology, and above it - a psychiatric clinic.
I am very responsible and a good worker. Wherever I worked, my actions are always disciplined, careful. When I do a lot of makeovers.
All day I work as an ant. I make out piles of magazines. Write down the names of these important items on the cards. Cards pile up in drawers - it's called methodical file.
Yet I'm typing on the computer pretty leaves and hang them on the stands. Around the silence stands in the building - just me and an old radio technician who teaches young people the art of dying radio communications. Before dinner, youth do not have it sitting around at their desks. And our building is quiet as a tomb. Only my steps are given under the high ceilings. The building was built in 1905. What it is not only tolerated over the years, I now suffer.
Because I get bored and have a strong perfektsionnoy. I was setting on a long table jars with gouache and preparing to paint a colorful ad, which will post on the city board. ... We are waiting for everyone to April 12 to 14. 00. ...
First, I create a background. The black sky. When the sky is dry, I scatter it on the white stars and bright planets. Be sure to Saturn with a ring and the blue earth with green veins.
Inside the tunic and nasty nibbling. To drown out the pain, and I go to the store the other hand, the bank allowed me to buy a low alcohol. I draw and drink. Pugh and not think about the gap, through which one can already see the black sky, with absolutely no stars. I do not believe that in the next life, we are waiting for the stars.
The phone rings.
- Alain? .
Never seen by me, Volodya, a virtual source, unknown creature from the depths of the Internet, reports that yesterday, I read my novel.
I finished the novel until the middle. Posted to the Internet. And immediately erased from his blond reality - as unwanted text, filled with tautologies, tastelessness and cliches.
Blond Alex never even read a couple sentences from my novel. Volodya read. Moreover, he wept when he read. It is very similar to my main character, admitted Volodya. He was a hard way: suicide, neurosis, alcohol and loneliness.
I have the determination of pride, happiness and sweet sadness. My first reader. I drink from the can, paint the stars and cry, too, not from pain, no, I drink to Volodya, for his characters, for this world in which there are still a few stars.
The doctor in oncology - a young, tall, ugly, brutal. That is not my type of man. I love the young, beautiful, fragile, nervous, a little crazy. The doctor, however, has a positive trait. He speaks quickly, roughly. Hysterical with kantserofobiey need to order. They do not listen to regular doctor's disgust lisping.
I'm on the verge of a banal Babskii roar. The doctor said that the excision should be done right now!.
- Without pain? .
- What kind of anesthesia, crazy? .
- No, - I wear shoes, causing a very black shoes with black feathers. - I can not live without anesthesia.
In fact, I was very resistant to physical suffering. I'm a damn dentists, intravenous injections - at least in flat veins, even in the brush, in the fifteen years I uncovered a very sore on his finger with a razor blade, I can not eat for three days, and still I had in childhood meningitis and asthma. I'm not afraid of anything in this world. But I feel disgust and horror to the vile manipulation within the body orifices. I do not know where it came from. I've never looked at myself in the mirror ... I am disgusted with every man who is trying to offer me oral sex.
I have the right to have a complex and something to fear in life, because I'm still mentally normal.
- I refused - I told the mother in the hallway.
The doctor was ahead of my explanation. He looked out of the office and told my mother that I was very wrong nerves. A gap in even greater danger - a couple of days, and there is all the ...
- Let us so, - I interrupted the doctor - I 'm going to the store, buy chekushku vodka, drink, and come to you. If you feel sorry for the fuck of anesthesia.
- Buy her a sedative drug store anything - the doctor said my mother, - give three pieces at once and bring here. I 'll make her an anesthetic injection into the cervix.
From the tablets I was well and happy, and I even laughed with the doctor and nurse assisted him until they were bred between my legs bluish smoke and the smell of burning flesh.
- What are you a bad girl, - the doctor kept saying, - beautiful, smart and evil! .
- As if I would agree to it! . Do not cling to the fate of laboratory animals, and beautiful things and kill themselves, for example, poisoning a large number of tablets.
- Here is a fool for you!.
In the process, they have suddenly there is some hesitation. They whispered to each other nervously. Rattling some pans and tools. I did not care. I looked at the gray ceiling and thought that after the execution, I 'll never are the same. I will forever be disgusted with myself that the smell of burning flesh. I also thought that a young doctor - a pervert. And what else can be a man, from morning till evening contemplating rotten decrepit female flesh? . In the corridor, sitting alone grandmother of eighty years and more. Grandmother clinging to life. Bald from chemistry, cut up and sterilized, they want to live, live!.
Yet it occurred to me that my fear and loathing of the gap may be due to violence at an early age. So what? . He was always horny (which was transmitted to me ). Even think I vaguely remember something like that... or a dream....
- Everything is ready, - the doctor - only to have to grease the neck of every day of iodine. You can find it in their own doctor or midwife?.
- No, - I said - I do not communicate with the local doctors and midwives due to acute personal animosity.
- Why?.
- Because my only child was born dead at their ...
- All the same, find someone else - the doctor said, - it is necessary. A month later, you come to me, and here's my card - if anything, call me at any time.
He shook his head, and finally repeated: ...
Coming out, I looked in the mirror on the wall. I had a drunken eyes with dilated pupils crazy. Her hair disheveled, cheeks and neck - red spots, like splashes of wine.
...
Mom organized. She took a familiar midwife speculum and she smeared me every day of the cervix. The neck was bleeding terribly. I lost a day I do not know how much blood - maybe half a liter.
It has been happily and easily. I felt as a man condemned to death, which was released three days' work up to the guillotine. Drank alcohol, writing emails all the familiar and unfamiliar guys, and all promised to ...
As the bleeding was clear that I never did not recover.
In my euphoria, I almost did not sleep. At night, sitting at the computer and wrote and wrote. Roman loomed just as quickly, nervously and angrily, as the first.
At work, I moved a lot. The designer some tickets, bought some prizes, communicated with the inconceivable number of people. Home to me is often came to visit - the girls are much younger than me, which I considered a friend of. In dark-haired Arishki father drank, my brother dragged home whores. Do freckled Rima 's father drank so that he seemed to see squirrels, and the water flowing out of the wall. He is with the full force of squab on the floor a thick stick and triumphantly exclaimed, ...
Therefore, Rima and Arishka loved me and my flat. I suspect that my apartment they liked more, because they were allowed to almost everything: cook a cocoa, taken from the refrigerator he wants, to try on my clothes and smoking on the balcony.
I offered my ...
They enthusiastically agreed to. With five hours, I covered the table: fried potatoes, eggplant, chicken, all sorts of teenagers favorite dried salinity. The girls came with the cake, but without the bottle. They have not sold a bottle.
I turned them on your computer, and alternative music went to the store.
Type I had a blinding and stupefying. Black silk blouse, black lace pants, through transparent, rushing in your ears earrings, collected from a variety of chains, and a bracelet on her left wrist was. At the same time - white hair, trimmed tufts, and white as paper mug with black circles under the eyes. Blanc, noir, black and white classics of the genre. My sister's husband, met at the store, I saw that I was, all blanc - noir, buy vodka. He was very interesting, which is what I gathered, why vodka. I guess he thought I was going to drink with some admirers. About my admirers, as well as about the state of my health, my sister and her husband knew very superficially. Type - it is always a member, and she made some sort of operation.
Probably, and it is not necessary to load the brains of relatives and close their problems. They are the brains to their own experiences of love and disease.
I returned with vodka, and Rima, and has danced Arishka alternative dance - reclining on the floor. Probably, they built themselves from any foreign music stars. I remembered that when my sister was from fifteen to nineteen, we also poses as a pop-stars, recorded their voices on tape and danced wild dances. The age pattern.
After the third stack of my girls got a little drunk and began to greedily devour all that is seen in the table. I drank a couple cups - for their health, funny toast. Outside the window the infernal darkness thickened. In my city, save electricity, turn off the lights after seven pm. Local Government believes that respectable people have nowhere to go after seven.
- And let's go to the disco! .
I refused to sluggish. On the one hand, the local disco - miserable and vulgar entertainment for youngsters. Even my girlfriend will look like old lady out there (and I - a living corpse ). On the other hand, I got to lose? .
I replaced the gasket on the toilet - the third in the evening through, and this is the ninth consecutive day. Then even walk a puppy, and the girls in the meantime washed the dishes and culture called a taxi.
To the west of cancer patients and HIV -infected persons actively treated by psychologists, psychotherapists and psychoanalysts. People are easily persuaded to look into the eyes of death.
We've all humane. The patient was provided to deal with a very. Without the brainwashing and abuse of nerves. Die as nature has destined you to.
I advise everyone who walks arm in arm with bony lady. Go into the night, a drunken mob. There's not scary. It 's funny, there your sorrows dissolve in the light of the disco lights.
I have not danced so much in the crowd scurried. Smashed a young looking at me in amazement. Everyone I danced a slow dance with a new beau, and among them there were no older than eighteen. Rimma and Arishka enjoyed much less popularity. They bought the apple cider beer ( itself) and a cocktail flavored rum cola (I ).
- Give me a try? .
It was Nikita. A tall handsome boy, in love with me, wordlessly and painfully with the thirteen. In his seventeen I became its first woman - in the dark forest of fallen trees, under the cold pink dawn sky, we stuck together for a couple of minutes of birch. I forgot that moment, and Nikita carefully kept them - in the collection, where all normal people, probably, are the exhibits ... My memory is quite another adds, ... Dawn, the birch passion I do not appreciate.
- Alena - said Nikita - you are so beautiful. What brings you here?.
- Accidentally went - I said.
At the disco din of hard to hear, so Nikita took me by the hand and led her on the street. We have nothing agreed. Just a young man was drunk, and I - even drunker, our drunken consciousness conspiracy and called a taxi.
We walked into my apartment and right in the hallway, in coat and hat, kissed with mad passion.
- I love you, I love you long time - he repeated in a whisper.
What this all possible, I said to myself I'm very drunk. He is a student. adult.
...
That's how life works. When you're healthy, you do not care about declarations of love for young, beautiful, sincere. Believed in the sincerity and beauty, but it turns out - too late, you already put on the light of absenteeism.
Of course, I drove Nikita. I could not submit to the vile slit, pulling out of my life. I said, Nikita and so the operation, blood. But let's go to sleep, poobnimaemsya, in the end, the Romans knew how to make love outside the areas of reproductive.
Late at night called Oleschuk. In the lower right corner of the screen lit up 3. 22.
The puppy jumped off my lap and ran to the phone for me.
- Alan, I'm sorry, that was awakened, - muttered into the phone Oleschuk. - I'm terribly bad, and no one to tell you, but you....
My only friend was a male in a depression and a drinking bout on the care of his wife. His wife had gone to a successful man - handsome, authoritative and healthy. Oleschuk was ugly, with a strange private business, a patient with alcoholism and neurasthenia. The fact that he was very smart, graduated from high school in his time with honors, I read a bunch of books and wrote poetry, was an aggravating circumstance.
- I still can not sleep.
- You have any boyfriend?.
- What the fuck boyfriend? .
- Sorry, sorry... Why do not you call the doctor? .
- Okay, I do not need your advice. What do you call? .
- I can not eat more than vodka. no strength.
- It's good.
- Well good, and I can not drink vodka, and the mood - even climb into the loop.
- Listen, Oleschuk you really maeshsya foolishness. Your Baba is gone, so what? . You stayed in a huge apartment, you have a job, you're healthy as an ox. Bring another woman, fuck it, take off the video and send the video of his Ole.
At the other end of the tube is heard men mirthless laughter.
- Are you well know human psychology, blond.
- I do know a lot of what is good in this world.
The next day I called in three nights Oleschuk.
- Do you want to come, - strange mashed voice he said, - I drink whiskey. Johnny Walker. Gift bottle -chair.
- I do not want to whiskey. I just want to chat.
- Let's chat. How do you feel about the rule golden section?.
- Normally am. If a person has a sense of the nature of the golden mean, he knows how to make beautiful: painting, dress, sing, and te pe.
- Strange, but I have bad paint. Although I feel pretty.
- You fucked dress.
- Because I have nowhere to dress well. During the day I 've been stuck at the sawmill with his hard worker, an evening drink in an empty apartment.
- Listen, Oleschuk, you're an idiot. You drink because women who do not even love. But what if we are loved. The meaning of life can not be in a person, whether child, woman, man....
- Do you know the meaning of life?.
- Of course, I know, damn it. The meaning of life - life itself. You're born alone, without Olga. Your body is designed to operate without any kind was Oli, Julia, Dasha, or Clara. I was always infuriated fictions about unrequited love. It's hysterical self-suggestion - I can not live without her... People survive in concentration camps, not only without Ol, and without zhrachki.
- That you know what is the meaning of life, why are you always so nervous, unhappy, unhappy?.
- Just because I know I can not switch your thoughts to the suffering of slobbering on some Sasha, Misha, Grisha.
The sun shone, and went on pairs of exposed earth. Residents of the city were worn as naskipidarennye, doing ... That is scraped out of the yards and gardens cans, bottles, rags, bags of rotting food waste, which he himself had sketched for the winter.
A yard of our old building was clean. We have removed several Galko casually got here and decided to paint the bottles around the lawn bordyurchiki. Lit paint, bright blue as the sky in late April. How did my strong dependence on the weather, I thought. Only the sun came out, and I am happy. So nice to smell the earth from the lawn! .
Galka I squirted water in his face, and an old radio technician shoved under the nose of a bottle of smelling salts, borrowed, as it turned out, in front of the kindergarten.
- You fell so suddenly... we are terribly afraid! .
- As what? .
jackdaw scared. She blamed all over himself - what she came up with this painting....
- But I do not think that you are still....
I sat in a taxi and went home. Nobody is to blame for the fact that slowly die. So conceived, and not even someone over. I think my illness and death of the future conceived me samoyu. somewhere inside. I do not like this world. Not that it boring, as he said Nikolai Vasilyevich. It can, and have fun, but not in my fun. Not amuses me is that most of the nice normal people. I am indifferent to the burgeoning on beds vegetables and berries. I was not exciting romantic devouring expensive meal in a restaurant in the company of a handsome male. A gift in the form of a bouquet of roses for me - the lack of evidence of human imagination. I feel sadness and disgust at the sight of felicitous family, contemplating the reality show in the cozy living room.
Maybe there are people in this world, like me, but they are very far away, and I will never reunite with them.
Mama called the doctor. The doctor immediately ordered to go to him. He assumed this because even during the operation the blood gushing too much. Because the doctor had to remove a layer of rotten meat is almost two inches thick.
- But why you went so long with bleeding, and do not call me? .
He brought me a sponge made of natural material. The sponge will stop the blood and will resolve itself within the.
- Call if a day does not stop the bleeding.
The bleeding has stopped. Inside is absolutely no pain. The sun shone every day in May promised to be hot.
It seems that this ought to put an end to. Perk, to start life over again, how many more clichés coined on this topic.
But to me like that just does not happen. I am one of those people that deliberately attract misfortune because they think about them.
I forgot to list above - the list of things that I do not like is ... I do not know what it is. Since the majority of people believe happiness is popular with the restaurant's idyll with a male ( option - female ), Rose and family togetherness at the TV, happiness seems to me a very nasty term.
However, I felt a certain euphoria. When writing a novel, and when put on a light spring rags. I wanted to wear something very challenging. And my wardrobe consisted of black a la gothic or ( mood ), wild pink.
In the stomach, I had tied a green woolen thread of the amulet, which are to ever get rid of illness.
I do yoga, wrote a novel, read modern literature. A lot of girls and the students walked up to me in the evenings - I worked with them in English.
I also corresponded with Volodya (my first reader), Bear ( my ex- lover, younger than I am twelve years old), old Dutchman, who invited me to her - to smoke grass and see Antwerp.
The world around me was crowded, eventful, fun noisy, but all the noise and traffic do not touch me. They proceeded by, and I still sat alone on her rock, as Khrenova Torvaldsenova Little Mermaid, is not looking out for the prince, and a shipwreck, in which Prince sinks - interesting action sentiment.
It's time to go to the doctor, so he passed sentence - I am cured or not.
- Very good condition of the cervix. All healed perfectly - happily said Dr.. - To be honest, I did not expect. Here, Alyonushka, it's the conclusion - he waved some papers, not letting them into my hands.
- I sent your stuff on a biopsy. There were cells. That is why I am writing to you is not erosion, and dysplasia of the third degree, and put you on the account in our clinic....
- What are cells? .
In the next few minutes I had a soundless hysteria. Rough imperturbable doctor was afraid. Like, I did not beat her on the floor and said nothing at all. But somehow, he pulled my face to her gown, began to stroke the head and tried to persuade:.
- You have nothing. I killed all those cells. You're healthy, you hear? . Dysplasia occurred in response to stress after the death of a child....
I came out of the oncologic dispensary, staggering.
To the left of the palace bombing was a pine forest. I was walking through the woods, touched trunks of trees and confusing for red legs in last year's needles. Through the needles have made it to the young green grass. To fixed stuff: grass, pine resin on the bark, clouds, similar to pieces garnetted wool defiant blue sky. Do in the woods I felt absolutely nothing, it should come down to the road, take the bus and go home. I wandered among the pines, and was probably very similar to heroin drug addict in a state of ...
As such, I still got on the bus, and there met his sister, returning from a regional workshop. We sat down together, I began to tell, and roared, and my sister startled pressed me to him and patted on the head, as Dr.. I have not felt the touch. The brain is probably the absolute indifference of programmed. Since I already had - in the first three days after birth, when there roared and howled the women, too, have lost their children ( humane medicine gathered all those in the private room, that kind of happy Madonna and Child is not mad with them).
And I told them jokes and hammer all you can eat - chocolate, cakes, bananas, beans.
...
I. I have no instinct for survival.
I went barefoot because of the newly painted toenails. The puppy ran after me and happily growled, glaring at my teeth then the leg, the heel. I've spoken out loud in French verbs Future Simple. Puppy grassiroval cool - better than me.
On the shelf the phone rang. It was my ex - boyfriend may stand, or rather - the father of my child.
Without any quarrel or offense, we did not communicate more than six months. This, incidentally, often between spouses who have lost a child. Psychologists have some way to explain it. And I did not like to even think about Dimasike.
- Hey! . - And here I am standing at your doorway. You can go to?.
- Come on! .
He stamped on the stairs, I opened the doorway, and we have embraced a surprising themselves, and especially a puppy.
- Be careful you are, damn it! .
He looked at my nails, painted blue cornflowers and white field. And put his hand to me by the collar.
His actions have always been natural and rough. without sentimentality. Why did I let him so long in his biography. A man should not reflect on for a long time, otherwise it thins the psyche under the influence of unusual male sex emotions and turns blond Alex - cried excitedly impotent person.
- Condoms are? .
Dimasik upset answered - no....
Nothing! . Life is full of accidents.
I was glad I came Dimasik. Because anyone else but him, would not want to revive their lives to the gap. Dimasik for me - its in the board, more than her husband, dearer than a brother ( if I had a brother). I am not ashamed to go with him in a toilet. That is why we should never live together.
And yet - his thought will never interfere in my. I do not think about this creature, I'm not interested in where he is, what happened to him that he feels. Strange but true.
As my crack yet capricious than my consciousness, was perceived Dimasik it is the best. It was perfect and wonderful, as they say in American films about love - it is usually the hero and heroine are following the action on his massive trahodrome, he runs down the temple brutal drop of sweat, she chastely having covered with a blanket, but artistically valid piece of exposed breasts, stroking it to . Playing music by Ennio Morricone, the carpet on the floor of a dark red (the symbol of passion), playing shadows on the ceiling (the symbol of romantic dreams ).
I have a red carpet, the bed we do not have time to lay a veil, and frolicked over the whole conversation between me and the young creature ( Dimasik younger than me for fifteen years) lasts for 3-5 minutes. We obtain the relaxation time and immediately after her fall asleep.
At the moment of sweet sleep the phone rang - just above the bed of love.
- Hello! .
The tube snorted in response, as the hippopotamus bathed.
- Hello, tell me!.
The tube again snorted. This was unlike the technical obstacles. There's something alive nozzles.
- Will you say no? .
I hung up. Dimasik put his curly head on my shoulder.
- Who was it?.
- Some zadrot ripped foolishness.
Zadrot called back a minute later. Again, in the tube nozzle and smacked his lips a little.
I understood the meaning of the game. Wheezing - lover in me kid. Place your vote, he is afraid of - in my small town I know all the male voices under the age of twenty-five. A call can not stop. Hormones bursting pants and loud banging in the vessels of the brain, heart and abdomen.
- What do you want, do not FIG?.
Love posopel affirmative.
- The mother of your leg! .
sad wheezing.
- I know you?.
Short frightened sniff.
- Look, I broke with you to play. I've been with a guy lying in bed.
Inflicting moral wounds unseen fan, I hung up. Exactly twenty seconds, the bell rang.
- Damn, he asks the horn? . And he is so sophisticated and artistically curled in a few garlands obscene phrase that I have long riding on pillows in a fit of laughter.
- Dima, bounce! .
Phone rang a fourth time.
- Okay, let 's talk - I said. - Are you a student? .
Sniff confirmed that the student. In the same way I learned that my unknown admirer of study in grade 11 with the letter T.
- I think he breshet - said Dimasik. - I think this is the newcomer, which the artist.
- He was twenty-four, in FIG him to engage in such foolishness?.
- You told me that he had a tower out of order.
- Now the spring, it is likely undergoing treatment in a psychiatric hospital. There's no phone.
- How do you know he can in the attic where the hacker 's office, and he calls out, and wrote a letter?.
It was funny. I wanted to fool around and jump. On the visit Dimasika and wheezing with a bell boy to see me back my youth and a desire to move, create, make noise, vandalize.
Down with the rationalism! .
All night I could not sleep. Excitedly beating his fingers on the keyboard. When the numb back, I walked into the bedroom to the Dimasiku. Wake him, tickled, and encouraged to stir up trouble in the new contact. Three to five minutes. Simultaneous orgasm. interlaced fingers. Half an hour of sleep. The computer hummed and was waiting for me. He knew that I would wake up and come again - because I have to finish the novel tonight.
May rasshvyryal the gardens and the gardens fragrant bundles of white and pink allergens. From the blossom of a sneeze, I always. Maybe from the tree. Maybe from the plum. Or even from the subtle currant flowers.
The inhabitants of my town - genetic gardeners. Their ancestors came here in the eleventh century, not for tourism purposes. They were dragged here in the fertile Ukraine to cut down the forest, uprooting stumps, primitive tools to pick open a solid nechernozem and plant cabbage, turnips, barley and oats. They lived in the land, and their offspring will always be in my blood gene farmer.
My paternal ancestors walked with a bow and quiver over his shoulder in the dark woods Erzya. A mother's relatives in the ascending line of mountain deer stalked by an evil sun Pamir. I also have Russian blood, forty or fifty percent. But what is blood, my God, if his hands and feet I have little, if Orel master reason for my great-grandfather built a stone house with a tin roof, if the grandfather had no idea of poking around in the ground, and was appointed the notorious gentleman (one hundred pounds, .
My natural instincts - to lie in a lordly on a sofa, chatting in French and aglitskogo herself ( for want of other companions ). And if you get off this couch, so to hunt, find, lure and kill.
Bent over the beds back and protruding ass to the sky are alien to me.
- I, too, - said the Jackdaw, - I love to plant only flowers. Would you like some more tea?.
- I.
Every day at two o'clock precisely, we drink tea with Galko. Work with us, and so ...
- We have dinner!.
She came to us to drink tea bespectacled Nina from another department. She tried to start a smart conversation. On the vocation to be the basis for other work. On the work, which should be directed to a reasonable, good - eternal. Sometimes even the love of native land.
Galka did not dare to argue with Nina while I did not argue.
- Vocation? . - What, your mother calling? . The mother could not shoot me an apartment in Moscow. I had to learn where the cheap. Vocation she wanted!.
- In fact, Nina! . - I graduated from high school in the nineties. Nothing to eat, vouchers, father unemployed, mother gets paid every three months. What do you mean by vocation high school? .
Nina was a clever beast. Arousing us to a temperature of forty, she said:.
- Girls, but what sucks for me to have sex....
I saw her manipulations, she knew that once a light and pleasant conversation about sex she would ask to borrow a good Jackdaws.
People have not a mystery to me. My friend from the fifteenth century Francois wrote: ... And I know myself.
I already know that I am both overwhelmed and Galka new trouble - bulimia, anorexia, intermittent. We do not work half a day, go shopping and the shops and look for what we would eat with tea. Such a reduced calorie, but that is not howling in the stomach from hunger. This cheap, but to no chemical additives. We fress these low-calorie dishes to vomiting. Vomiting kills our sense of guilt, but does not take away the problems that cause....
Anna walked up to me to learn English. She was togda16 years. Flaxen hair, blue eyes, rich parents. Insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus. Four times was in a coma in the regional center.
- I can even bear to be - fun to say Anya - only need to be registered with a good doctor. to control the sugar. And to make Caesar's, of course.
Sasha place with me doing yoga. It was almost as tall as a high- Anna, in spite of its thirteen. She had insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus with eight years. Sasha pricked his insulin injection pen before each session of yoga. And she assured that yoga lowers blood sugar.
- I drink cocktails and beer. And what of it? . - Mom permits. And the doctor permits. Just add insulin, he says, and do not worry.
I listened to these girls and I thought cynically - and the mother and the doctor know that Anna did not live up to the age when you can give birth, and Sasha - as long as she legally sell alcohol in the store. And I thought sadly - that have problems. And unless you have a problem? . Rejoice that you see in May, and that the kids love sopyat to your phone.
When you learn to be happy?!.
I go with my black pup. Fun puppy wags its tail, because it comes without a leash. In the green meadows, the wild field, where a lot of sun and no people.
We pass garden area and proudly marching past the bulging ass to the sky farming. Space, covered with wild weeds, thistles in the growth of Schwarzenegger and burdock in diameter with a satellite dish. Once there was a civilization. About her look like a giant alien facility in the form of radar. Radars rusty, scaly. I know that ten years ago these devices were used for processing or packaging of flax. Now, they decompose slowly in the sun and rain. They can carry tourists. ... Author unknown ...
At the top of a rusty track, at a height of ten or even fifteen feet above the ground with chalk drawn cyclopean phallus. Who was the daredevil who climbed to the top of the unbalanced structure and drew a symbol of post-Soviet free-thinking people? . So that no one mistook what is drawn on a monument....
There is no limit heroism of our people, I think, looking at the picture and the inscription. And undress, substituting the sun its very white, and on the shoulders richly freckled skin.
Insolation banned me from the brutal Dr. oncology center. But moderate tan from eight to twelve days allowed. Now ten in the morning. I am no one will see a rusty obelisks - no idle villagers, nor a strict doctor. I stele mat and stop the motion in the sun in his beloved Sarvangasane. Legs straight up. Hands shoulder support. The blood rushes to your head, it activates the thinking process, and most importantly - the thyroid gland. thyroid rejuvenated. I will always be 27 years old.
Why should I always be young, ask activated by a rush of blood brain? . I do not want to star in a movie, even if all the directors of Hollywood will come to ask for this honor. I do not want no car - I hate cars, they stink chemistry, they swayed me.
Sarvangasana has a positive effect on the health of reproductive organs. My crack must be healthier. Why? . I do not want anyone to sleep in my bed all night. I despise the pure love and mocking attitude toward casual relations.
Why then you healthy, sun, tides of blood?.
I look at the sky and see how it is slowly splitting in two, as it opens a huge fiery gap. It is unlike any of my sick nature. She exudes a red sap of life vibrates and laughs at me.
- Hey, you! . My hands are spread out boldly to meet the fiery gap. It should, perhaps, evidence of my insanity. But I know that this is a provocation of the sky, or perhaps the depths of hell.
- I'm healthier than all of you together! . - Cells are killed! .
I do not remember how strange the vision vanished. I woke up from what my black dog licked my cheek. But a few minutes lying half asleep and heard a voice speaking from far away:.
- You give birth to a son with blue eyes. Your son will reach great heights, and you'll be very proud of him. He will bring you happiness.
- You have said it to me, - I replied angrily, - two years ago in a dream, I remember! .
- I'm not talking about that child. And about the next.
I shook my head to wake up. She sat on the mat and quickly dressed, talked a puppy:.
- Let's go home, Asya. It somehow unclean. Like, damn, Gogol - an enchanted place. Voices, dreams, visions....
Puppy Asya waved under the ears and pulled forward - in the thickets of saltbush and yarrow.
- And it is not no dope growing to such an imagined!.
Maybe somewhere in a parallel stream of life is my alter ego talking with a gypsy fortune teller, or the philosopher -guru or savior - messiah with. Do not know. I do not believe in the supernatural.
I do not yet decided what I believe in this world.
October 2010.
Permanent address.
