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January 30th, 2010

переедем

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если кому интересно - мы теперь на golovipolovina.livejournal.com

February 20th, 2009

мудак

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- налысо

- что, простите?

- руби, говорю под корень. Все, чтоб черепушку видно было. И в темпе, мне некогда

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October 6th, 2007

***

– Да сколько ж можно-то? И опять посреди ночи заявилась, непутевая, окурков на лестнице набросала! А убирать кто? Мариванна убирать? Так ведь и у меня, внучек, дел хватает, я-то седьмой десяток разменяла, что же, мне теперь за всякими простигосподи мусор выметать? Что я, проклятая какая? А родители, родители-то ее куда смотрят? Ой, кошмар какой, горе-то какое, позор для семьи! Да гнать надо такую, гнать взашей! И давно пора, чай не младенец, выживет! А так сидит и сидит на шее, тянет и тянет соки из родителей! Ты на мать ее посмотри, черная вся ходит, постарела на глазах! Не человек – тень! А у нее, простигосподи, жалости-то ведь никакой! Никакой жалости-то к родителям! Ууух, так бы и вытолкала на улицу, прости-господи-грехи-наши-тяжкие…

Монолог Марьи Ивановны, соседки-слева-которая-Знает, действовал успокаивающе и в некотором роде расслаблял, притупляя сознание. Расслаблял настолько, что не хотелось думать о предстоящем дне, который обещал быть ничуть не лучше предыдущего и нисколько не интереснее завтрашнего. День, по прогнозам моих личных внутренних синоптиков, намеревался пролиться хмурым дождиком из неулыбчивых-и-вечно-усталых лиц коллег, периодически разбавляемым преддверьями грома из-за двери Кабинета, вмещавшего в себя драгоценный телеса не менее драгоценного шефа. Скучный обед около двух, утомительный разговор о машинах (возможно – футболе, если присоединится Степаныч). Заигрывания двадцатиоднолетней Олечки, секретарши шефа, более-чем-посредственный интеллект которой компенсировался постепенно уменьшающейся длинной надеваемой-на-работу-юбки. Шефу, впрочем, нравилось. Оно, впрочем, и понятно.
В-общем, мирно покачиваясь в уютном гамаке, сплетенном из убаюкивающе-скрипучего голоса соседки, я забылся на мгновенье, представив, что синоптики, как ни парадоксально, ошиблись, что идти никуда не нужно и что пролет лестничной клетки укроет меня сегодня в бетонном своем спокойствии, усыпит, спасет от…



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September 24th, 2007

(no subject)

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Олег

Я, собственно говоря, уже привык к бесконечной манной каше своей повседневности. Да, раньше, бывало, тешил себя надеждами на тему светлого будущего, веселого существования. Но то были обычные студенческие ошибки. Не получилось. Как-то затянуло постепенно в серую безликую окружность, закрутило по маршруту «работадом». И привык. Стабильно, вроде, ну и ладно. Да, накатывает иногда… Бывает, ветер ударит по лицу холодной своей ладонью со всего маху, и как почувствуешь вдруг никчемность свою, муравьиность какую-то среднестатистическую, бессмысленность себя. И тогда хочется сесть, обхватив голову руками, и сидеть так, пока ноги твои не прорастут в землю, став корнями молодого дуба, а на голове не зазеленеют листья, вбирая себя сомнения и тоску. И тогда сознание превратится бы в древесный сок, постепенно теряя суть и отпуская меня на волю. В такие моменты я стою на тротуаре, явно мешая жить проходящим мимо пешеходам. Впрочем, рано или поздно самый сердобольный из них толкнет меня, вырвет душу из сумрачного лимба, и вновь пустит волчок существования по обычному маршруту. Меня всегда хватало только на сомнения и самоедство. Редкие же подарки жизни я с негодованием отбрасывал на обочину своего существования, руководствуясь вечным принципом «лучшее враг хорошего». Раскрашивать повседневность я не хотел и ленился, за что, видимо, и был наказан…

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August 1st, 2007

Лето проливалось на город тоннами невыносимо приторного сгущенного молока, скатывало во рту шарики из наждачной бумаги, покрывало тела влажным глянцем испарины и собирало обильную жатву задорно красных носов и плеч, болевших нестерпимо. Лето сводило с ума термометры и, злобно хихикая, стучалось в окна – «как? все еще без кондиционера? Тогда мы идем к ва-а-ам!» -, превращая тесные квартирки в мечту спятившего римского патриция (персональная терма на дому – подумайте только, как удобно-то!). Тяжеловесный хулиган, лето пряталось за покатыми плечами молчаливого своего сообщника – июльского солнца. Солнце же, подверженное легкому нарциссизму, день за днем смотрелось в зеркало глаз цвета молодой хвои. Глаза принадлежали Лизавете Павловне и, по глубокому ее убеждению, безумно были красивы. Не-о-бы-кно-вен-но. А мнению Лизаветы Павловны можно было доверять, ибо изысканна и воспитана она была сверх всякой разумной меры. Преисполнена врожденной грации и благородства. Дворянка, что и говорить… Досадное одно обстоятельство вносило, однако, безобразный диссонанс в упорядоченное течение утонченной ее жизни. Обстоятельство звалось Юлечкой, работало в библиотеке и напяливало на себя вещи таких не сочетаемых абсолютно расцветок, что заставляло Лизавету Павловну всерьез опасаться за здоровье больного своего, немолодого уже сердца. Жили гордым девичьим дутом: Лизавета Павловна по причине самодостаточности и независимости, а Юлечка – ну никак не везло ей с дурацкими этими «амурными делами».


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May 27th, 2007

прокотенка

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Котенок выглядел потерянным. А еще промокшим и рыжим. Вернее, рыжим он не выглядел, он им был, и это в чем-то роднило их с Марусей. В любой другой день она бы и не заметила, наверное. Да, не заметила бы и мимо прошла. Но просто этот дождь, да еще звонок Андрея все отказывался покидать добровольно покидать ее многострадальную голову. Там и без того бардак, а тут еще это… Котенка было жалко. Его хотелось целовать в нос и кормить. Ему можно было бы позволить играть со старыми носками. И прыгать на диван со шкафа. Мордашка в забавную рыжую крапинку бесцеремонно забралась в Марусино сердце и захлопнула за собой дверь, предварительно поправив висевшее там «не беспокоить».
Маруся была ленива. До безобразия. А потому назвала котенка Копирайт. Писать удобно, потому что. И быстро. Буква и кружок. Просто. Андрей, конечно, засмеял. Вернее, высмеял. Глупо, сказал. Андрей был Марусиным соседом. И по совместительству другом. Он был красив, перспективен и безумно любим Марусиной мамой. За потенциал. «Молодой человек с блестящим будущим» - да, именно так она его называла. А Марусю – бездарем и неряхой. Маруся не разбиралась в биржевых котировках и о мировых ценах на нефть не знала. Она читала Борхеса по ночам и мешала всем спать. Жить тоже мешала. Иногда. Так Андрей говорил, по крайней мере. Но любил. Кажется. Правда, упорно звал ее Марией. А еще созданием. Бездушным, но чаще гадким. Да, так и говорил: «гадкое ты создание, Мария, опять всю плиту кофе залила! И разбери книги, тут сесть негде». Впрочем, он дарил розы. Иногда. Подруги Марусе завидовали. Ну, по крайней мере, так считала мама, а мама была человеком знающим и опытным. И мудрым еще, да. Копирайт же Марусе не завидовал. Копирайту было, в принципе, плевать. Не все. Кроме Маруси. Ну, по крайней мере, так считала Маруся, а Маруся была человеком. А это, господа, приговор окончательный и обжалованию не подлежит.


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May 23rd, 2007

the reason

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“What do you love in others? My hopes.”
Nietzsche




– I won’t stay here long, you know! My mom just called, she said she’ll come and get me in a couple of days! I mean, not that I don’t like it here, but…
– It’s ok, sweety, I understand! Don’t you worry! Now, why don’t you drink this…



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May 18th, 2007

... that was washed by a stream of spam to the shore of my e-mail...


***

Hi there! My name is Samuel Maximilian Bartholomew jr., my friends call me Sam though. Hey, is that my face you’re laughing about? It’s my nose, right? I know, I know…
Whatever!
I might look funny, but I bet you have no idea of how important I am!...

From the very moment of my birth my mom kept on telling me I’ll play an important role in world’s history one day. She tried to give me the best she could. Me and my bros and sis too, of course. There were obviously not enough opportunities for us in the place where we were born. Dark and cold. For my whole childhood I saw sunlight just once. Although my twin brother Erik told me it was some searchlight or something… Didn’t care!… I knew it was the message from sun, telling me to hang on and hope for better life. And so I did.
One day the flow had changed and we moved to a nicer place. Warm and cozy. Loved it!

Although several of my siblings got lost on the way… oh well, I didn’t know any of them anyway! And besides, I still have, like, thousands of others!

Oh, I’m sorry, I think I forgot to tell ya something… I’m a krill. Aha, exactly, a “shrimp-like marine invertebrate” thing, they say. Although the epithet “invertebrate” is a little bit humiliating and kind of diminishing…

And here you go, to burst into laughter again. What kind of importance a tiny 40 mm thing might possibly have? Well, get this: if it wasn’t for me you would most likely not sit in front o this devise (a computer, right? Is that what u call it?) thinking about a cup of hot coffee and reading this story. See, I only need you so that someone could read my notes; you need me in order to exist.

What’s this “huge mission” my mom kept on telling me about?

My siblings and I launch one of the most complicated and simultaneously most naturally-simple processes on Earth, for we happen to be the very base of the food chain. I was destined to die in a chap of some fish, penguin, seal, whatever!... Although my ultimate dream is to be eaten by a baleen whale!.. (Don’t tell my wife I told ya that, please! She already thinks I’m a careerist… I’m not though! It’s just… perfectionism!) why do I dream about being eaten? Well, that’s my contribution into sustaining the balance of the nature, for food chains – the ultimate forms of organisms cooperation – existed for ever.

Here is a little fairy tale that you might like. Centuries ago, when people didn’t know anything about love or hate, frustration or confusion, when they simply felt and lived, the most fidgety one figured that their world stands on three whales. As time went by and the homo sapience became homo doubting, inquisitive and self-confident, some of them thought: “How come do we have to believe in those whales? Our lives can’t depend on some… fish! What a humiliating nonsense it is!”. And – nice and slowly – their minds begun creating the new reality around them, for human brain is a great power. This reality was based (for the most part) on a completely new phenomenon, called science. The Earth was becoming more and more round, the three wise whales disappeared into the huge wet fields of green salty water, got families and kids and begun a whole new life. But as the significance of science grew, the value of those initial Earth keepers decreased…
You, people, may think that the technological progress and scientific discoveries transferred you into a sophisticated and versed human beings. That there are few processes left in the nature that you can’t yet cope with, nothing that you can manage or regulate. But somehow you don’t see, that your interference only makes things worse. You know, at first we thought oil spills were funny! Colorful and amusingly weird, they made some of us come closer wishing to swim in this vivid water. Until we started to die because of it. And by “we” I mean not only krill… You can’t hear the screams of the dying parts of the ecosystem, but does it mean we have to pay for your imprudence, your games with the eternity?... If the Earth doesn’t need whales any more to swim in an impartial vacuum of the space, does it mean you don’t need them either?...

You might think I’m funny and laugh at my nose, my name, my insignificance. But are you better? Just like little children, in the endless attempts to become independent from nature, you’ve developed endless high-tech equipment, build huge stone labyrinth you call cities and invented the methods of killing each other as “fast and furious”©, as possible. But have you found the place where you really belong yet?...
Will you ever do?...


Samuel Maximilian Bartholomew jr.
Proudly eaten by a seal in March, 2007

May 16th, 2007

Growing up in the vast arid steppes of Mongolia, I was brought up as a pitiless furious warrior. A horse, a yataghan and a wineskin of fresh kumiss were my best friends and a pinnacle of my desires. I was preparing myself to an amazing career of the nomadic Gypsy. However, Moira, the unpredictable old lady, had quite a different plan in her crazy mind… The rigorous hand of fate threw me in a very heart of civilization, here, in Saint-Petersburg. Russian-Mongolian dictionary, skull-cap and complete chaos in my head were all I took with me. Oh, and my notebook, of course!...

So, the Internet.. The Mongolians are not really fond of this creature / ultimate evil / worldwide, publicly accessible network of interconnected computer networks© (underline the one u like better). Although we do use it from time to time to navigate a horse… but here everything is completely different! You use the Internet to communicate, find information and stuff, even to study! Aaaawesome!

Yes, I’m getting close to the topic. What do I think about the way of doing our home reading through the lj community? Well, it’s ok, I guess. Pretty cool, since it helps both us and Irina Olegovna (I hope) save some time. Pretty amazing, because we can 1) study and improve (again, hope so…) our English without even leaving the house; 2) discuss the topics we personally are interested in and express ourselves in the way we want to (yes!); 3) drink coffee while doing our home reading (luv it!); 4) and last but not least, we can polish up our writing skills. However, this way of dealing with our home reading does not, unfortunately, involve such an important aspect as speech and verbal communications. I like to look into people’s eyes while talking to them (the Mongolians believe that way one can capture an interlocutor’s soul (be gud, don’t tell my compatriots I’ve told ya that though, or else they’ll eat my brain!)). I like to talk. I like to write though too, although it does take me a bit more time. A lot more time, actually. See, that’s the main problem, I guess, at least for me. It’s kinda hart to make myself sit down, make up an interesting (?) idea on a given topic and make myself write the first couple of lines. Afterwards the whole thing gets easier though :)
However, it’s only my discipline problem, which I have to deal to myself, whereas for the most part this way of dealing with our home reading seems comfortable, gud and b-e-autiful©! So, I’d vote in favor of this method. Oh, and you know what’s also great about it? As far as I’m aware of, the majority of groups do their hope reading in a usual way. So… our “lj community home reading method” makes us pretty much… unique!! which is fabulous!

Take care and don’t forget to drink milk once in a while!


Yours, no, MINE truly, Val

December 19th, 2006

Hi, my lovely 2ir ppl!))

Guess what?! I figured that making you read a scientific_kind_of essay on on-line education will not be fair. So I’ve decided to present you a little fiction on pretty much the same topic (not exactly the same though). Hope that Irina Olegovna will not be disappointed with this idea))… we’ll see…

note: there is no connection whatsoever between my life and this story. And another thing: I do not see my life as a dusty road... and i hope neither do u...


***

Frankly speaking, we don’t have the whole lot of interesting stuff going on here. You see, Awkworth is such a quite little town. Nice, safe and friendly – yes, but awfully boring. I mean, a couple of homecomings a year, that usually end up with a big fight, bring at least some diversity. Oh, and Jenny Whithman’s boyfriend from Stanstown gets drunk once in a while and starts singing yodels on the streets. But for the most part the local tale-bearers hardly have any occasion for a good gossip.

That’s why Emily’s story made such a racket. Oh, wait, you don’t know yet who Emily was anyway… Well, she was one of the girls from my high school. We had a couple of classes together every school term, but I didn’t get to know at all. I liked her though. She was wicked smart. Not a nerdy though, if you know what I mean. Just a nice, smart girl. Pretty, I’d say. Although, somehow she was very distanced from the other people. Not that she was unsocial or haughty. It seemed, however, that she didn’t quite care about us, “the ordinary ones”. As if she was a princess from a castle high up on the mountain.

One day, however, I did get a chance to take a closer look at her. Our English teacher gave as an assignment that we had to fulfill in pairs. And I got Emily as my partner. It was awesome, but I got a bit freaked out anyway. “ What if she thinks I’m stupid? Or ugly? Or…” and it went on and on. You see now, how scared I was before going to her house. (I’d rather invite her to mine, but my folks had just started a regular repair and the house was such a mess). However, it wasn’t as bad, as I expected.

The house she lived in with her parents was… well… I’d call it musty. Kind of boring, extremely faceless, grey place. Her room, however, was like an island of light in the sea of dullness. Plain and small, but very cozy and warm. She had plenty of books there, too. Even Russian classics. And tons of books on history.

– Wow! Have you actually read all that stuff? I’d never make myself read Dostoyevsky!

She smiled:

– Seriously? I love him. And all the others too. Besides, I need all those books for my studies.
– Oh, so you’re studying somewhere else except our boring AW- High?
– Well, yes. Have you ever heard about the Macquarie International on-line project?

And she told me, that for about a year she had been taking on-line courses on history from the Macquarie University. They had launched this M_IQ-project (Macquarie Internet Quaere), that let people from different parts of the US extend there knowledge with the help of the on-line courses It was extremely convenient – she could get plenty of information without even going out of the house. They gave her the assignments that she had to fulfill via the Internet and than she sent them the once the made via e-mail. Once in a while she had to take on-line tests and quizzes. She even got grades for that.

– What’s the point though? I mean, you can write a test with the book on your knees and… well, ya know…

She took my joke way too serious:

– Why would I do something like that? I study for myself, not for a good grade or some other positive reinforcement. I love history, and as far as I can’t get enough information in high school and I got suck, – she hesitated a bit, – well, got stuck at this awful place, on-line education is a great opportunity. Besides, I don’t like cheating. But anyway! Let’s move on to our English assignment.

And so we did. But I couldn’t through her words out of my head. I mean, not that I was madly in love with our good old Awkworth, but I’ve always enjoyed LIVING. Living in reality. No matter where, if there was someone I could hang out with sometimes. And besides – if she didn’t like it that much, why didn’t she try to persuade her parents move somewhere else? ..

I got to know the answer in a couple of days. We had to give a couple of final touches to our project, so I got to visit her one more time. I guess I shouldn’t have done that though. The first thing I could sense right after getting into the house was a dreadful smell of alcohol. I saw, how tired and ashamed Emily was.

– I’m extremely sorry. My mom… she… you know… well, she hits the bottle once in a while.

All of a sudden, she burst into tears.

– Daddy left us a couple of years ago. For no particular reason. We… just… We woke up one day and he wasn’t here any more. He never came back. And he never will, I know. And my mom… well, at first she’d have a couple of glasses every evening. And now… she gets so drunk, she can’t even recognize me sometimes.

I didn’t even know how to console her. Was simply staying there as a speechless fool, stroking her hair, knowing that there’s nothing I can do. I realized now, why was it so much easier to her to live on-line. She simply got tired of this dull life of hers, of the reality, where her mom was permanently drunk, her dad had didn’t care about her, and everything was completely usual, ordinary and dull. As if she was born to be the princess, but, because of an awful mistake, found herself lying in dust on the side of the road leading to eternity. And she wasn’t strong enough to get up and start walking along this road, struggling against the commonness of it, trying to rejoice over some simple things she could see on her way. She thought she needed something much more vivid and thorough. That’s why she was living in books, filling her life with the emotions from the old movies and trying to find her own little perfect mesh in the vast expanses of the world wide web.

***

But the life was going on and we were growing older. As the day of our senior prom was coming, I finally nerved myself and asked Emily out. She agreed. I figured I should take her to some nice quiet cafe and tell her something I’ve been thinking about for at least a year. You see, I was going to go on studying in one college in Nevada. And I thought I could take her there with me. I mean, not that I was able to provide her with a kind of life she wanted to have, but I could at least get her out of that vicious circle.

She was extremely beautiful that evening. And I thought I had never seen her to smile as much, as she did that day. I was encouraged. In vain…

– Tom… I’m so sorry. I really am. You’ve been so kind to be, but… but I’m afraid I can’t go there with you. You know, a couple of weeks ago I’ve met someone…

It was not surprised to hear, that this “someone” was from Austria and that she met him on one of the chats she used to visit all the time. He was, as she told me, like a prince from a fairy tale: handsome, charming, funny. Moreover, he had his own little business – a hotel, as far as I remember. He promised to come and get her out of the boring train of her days. He told her, that he would show her the Great Wall of China, the carnival in Rio de Janeiro, the Palace of Versailles and the Red Square. She was fascinated. I had no chances.

The first year in college flew by as a crazy martin. I didn’t get any messages from Emily (I guess she thought that I was offended of something) so I figured she had probably finally gotten what she was dreaming about. I couldn’t even imagine…

Awkworth seethed with the new long awaited gossip. They were all discussing Emily. A week before I came she swallowed a fatal dose of soporific. There was no one to save her. Her mom was drunk. Her fairy tale prince never came to take her away. I suppose, she got sick and tired of waiting. And there was nothing for her in this life to cling to. Or even if there was something – she chose not to…

My name is Tom Clameson. I live in Awkworth, Utah, and I’m 25 years old. I’m going to merry my girlfriend Nicole next summer. Everything is going to be as plain and simple as possible, no luxury – we don’t have the whole lot of money yet, ya see, I’m just an automobile mechanic. But by boss says I got some talent, so I hope I’ll get a promotion soon. You never know, right?..

There’s just one thing I know for sure though. For my whole life I’ll keep on loving Emily, the girl from my past, who got lost in a dusty road of her life. And I will always despise myself for not even trying to explain her back than, when she was crying in my embrace, that it’s not about the dust one has to swallow or the little stones that hurt one’s feet. It’s about the sunrise that you can see every morning, the people that you meet on your way. It’s about the laugh of your child or a friendly smile of a passerby. I should have taught her to find all those small little coins in the dust. Should have… But I never did…
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