/ Language: English / Genre:poetry,religion_rel,religion_esoterics,comp_www,religion_self,

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 …

Divine Age


-          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!


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 …


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…



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?


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 ?


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.


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.


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 …


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.


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”…


H means : Hope

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 …


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.


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 …


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.


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!


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.



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


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!


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.



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 !


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.


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 !


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 …


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.


Notes of the Nameless One

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.



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 …


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 …


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 …


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.


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.


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!


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.


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 !


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.


Monologue with a child


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 …


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…


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 …



- 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.


To the People of Now

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 …


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.


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?


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.



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 …


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.


- 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!


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.



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?


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.


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…



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.



- 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!


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…


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?


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.



- 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 …


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!


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.


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 !


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.



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?


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?



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 …


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.


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.


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.



-    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.


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 …


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