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We live in the different worlds for a long time. In different realities. Which every second scatter further and further from each other.

This morning the wife told me:

- Reality one. And it does not depend on your umnichaniye.

I nodded. And sadly trudged to cook for itself coffee. Because it is impossible to argue with the wife. Not that will leave without sweet - as the minister - the administrator.

But I - that know that she is wrong.

The flow of information falling upon us is more and more every year. And, the most important, is more and more various. What could be interesting in the Middle Ages? “In Baghdad everything is quiet“. Here and all information from the outside world. Zero the whole one 100-th percent. Remained ninety nine and ninety nine were from an inner circle. For private use: in the morning milk escaped; today it is cloudy; and the boot - that was worn out; at the neighbor the goat died … the World was invariable

. It is steady as the driven rail. One 100-th percent could not shake it. How to a snowflake to cope with a rail?

But over the years the situation changed. The rail became thinner, and the snowflake grew. And today from a rail remained that is about - this delay, thickness about a hair, it is no more. And the snowflake turned into a snowball size about the planet.

The person feels as the citizen of the planet more and more. The pan with soup poured by the neigbour in a staircase does not interest him any more. Yes that pan! He is not interested also the neigbour; in the elevator, having indifferently nodded hardly - to hardly familiar woman, habitually you put on earphones and you plunge in … m - m - m … information. “Good morning, with you “Ekho Moskvy“ …“. Well - well - that there at us in Iceland?

To master all volume of information it is unreal. I manage to snatch out from the huge snow planet a small piece - a snow ball. The wife does the same, but snatches out from other place. She since morning watched local news. The car hit the woman on the street round the corner. This woman is not in my reality. Does not exist. And the wife worries. She is sorry and brought down (the person was shown close up: half-closed pupil full of pain; the swept hair, horror, spoiled a hairdress; the bitten-through lip - poor how now to make up with it lips?) and her relatives to whom different unpleasant efforts are coming. The wife already tried on a situation on herself.

In any case the hit woman in local news! More than three hundred million people living on that side of a terrestrial ball are sure that they won World War II. Some of them in general live in reality where Russia battled on side of Germany.

And in reality of my wife Americans - well are stupid - y - ye! There, in its world, unlike mine, there are no Salinger, Joyce and Steinbeck`s books. Its world is inhabited by father`s daughters, Voronin and inhabitants “Houses - 2“. And every day this world is more and more detailed.

It seems to me that also these one 100-th percent, connecting - for the present one fine day will disappear! - our worlds. Information singularity will get the best of small, pathetic personal spaces, the general for our realities. And we will scatter from each other, everyone in the soap bubble. In the bubble which contained the whole Universe.

To you it is terrible? To me - no. Eventually, it is only my interpretation realities. My reality. The reality created by my brain.

And, by the way, in the Universe of my daughter there live princesses, beautiful horses, happy people and Superkorova. There all go with flower bouquets on the heads, and there is no death.

I want to live in this world. To Mira to my daughter.