I take a walk down the night street alone. Where my own long shadow trembles ahead, falling on wet, slippery asphalt. I came up with this idea under the drops of drizzling fine rain, under the dim white light of lantern.
The light comes on somewhere in the window of the suburban house. The light is yellow, burning in the pitch darkness of a long night street. For a moment, some thoughts of death and loneliness are appearing. I feel this stranger's energy flowing through my body, reaching my brain, shaking my bones, and turning into a thought. There is the thought flashes before my eyes in colors just for a moment. It seems to be drawn on the wet asphalt, being in the reflection of the gray puddle in front of me. There are the wet clothes glisten here and the shadow of my face distorted by the rain trembles. Although, I have a goal that justifies me. I remember that.
I see myself as if from the outside, being in a four-dimensional space-time. And I feel myself, like I'm on a street full of bright tabloid lights. Sometimes I even feel myself like a participant in an experiment, like in that terrible urban legend “Russian experiment with a sleep”, where you need to endure thirty days without sleep in order to become free.
Yes, I'm almost free. I'm exactly who is needed for me.
I open my red eyes, finding myself in the bed. I remember my childhood so often. For some reason, I often think about Mars, looking into the emptiness of my smartphone with my reflection in it. Where I am? Where is that roaring night express which shook my windows?
Often, when they ask me two or even three questions at the same time, I can poke my finger into the sky to get to the point. They, - those who persecute me - gave me the insulting nickname "Celine Dion". I'm closing my eyes, hearing the distant rumble of a bus speeding through a night echoing in my head. An estrogen hits in my ears, hitting my ears, drop by drop. My body is trembling menacingly. I remember again that they called me "Celine Dion". And it's not easy. My eyes are already dry with the tears, becoming dry as the sand Atakami.
I see myself as a hostage in this life. A hostage can often be killed or mentally depressed, or have Stockholm Syndrome. Simply put, a hostage can be a coward. Perhaps this is the sixth sense. My inner voice suggesting a solution. But I have no purpose in life. This whole life is someone else's performance. This is not my life.
God said: “Everything was created for man, but not everything is useful. What is the use of a man if he gains the whole world and harms his own soul. Or how to redeem it. God also said: "You are gods." So, if I am a god, then time has no power over me. Where there is no time, there is no space to limit me. What is a space? The matter is a reflection of light that returns to my own eyes. It turns out that if I do not reflect light, I can pass through an object. It's about the meaning of life. “I don’t understand anything without discipline. I'm a swindler, not a socialist, ha ha!".
As the great Russian classic Dostoevsky said: “The Russian god has already given up before the “cheap”. Nowadays, after all, everyone has a not own mind. There is still, there is! You could be suffering, and suffering sincerely, from that innocence. I love beauty. I am a nihilist, but I love beauty. Don't nihilists love beauty? They just don't like idols, well, but I love an idol! You are my idol! You don't offend anyone and everyone hates you; you look equal to everyone, and everyone is afraid of you, that's good. No one will come up to you to pat you on the shoulder. You are a terrible aristocrat. An aristocrat, when he goes to democracy, is charming! It means nothing to you to sacrifice your life and your own and someone else's. You are exactly who needs. I, I just need someone like you. I don't know anyone but you. You are the leader, you are the sun, and I am your worm... You are a handsome man, proud as a god, not looking for anything for himself, with a halo of sacrifice, "hiding". Most importantly, the legend! You will defeat them, look and win. The new truth carries and "hides". And here we will let out two or three Solomon sentences. Maybe I'm in a delusional, maybe I'm in a delusional! But I came up with the first step. But one, only one person in Russia invented the first step and knows how to take it. This person is me. What are you looking at me? I need you, I need you, without you I am nothing. Without you, I'm a fly, an idea in a bottle, Columbus without America. Are you afraid? The reason why I grabbed hold of you is that you are not afraid of anything. It's unreasonable, isn't it? Why, I am still Columbus without America; Is Columbus without America reasonable?"
by Artem Miachin
8 April 2023
Artem.Miachin 