Rus Articles Journal

Happiness... or perhaps it it?

In a rat race under the loud name “life“ where the fast gets the most big chunk, to the most dexterous, the most impudent. Who, having immediately gobbled up it, this of belongings of desired salted pork fat under the name “success“, “money“, “glory“ that others did not catch it, did not grasp quicker it, again and again with even big acceleration directs behind even more big chunk, and then behind fatter, then still … and then still … and then …

A then in one fine morning he wakes up and understands that he hates fat and that he is not a rat, and some hamster - the overage. Or guinea pig. An experimental guinea pig because all his life is series of experiences and experiments which were put on it by the unknown high gods solving everything for it: reorganizations, crises, defaults, inflations, devaluations, socialism, communism, capitalism …

In a meteoric rain by the flashing days similar one on another, as twin brothers, in the epicenter of this remarkable life which ceased to trace and feel long ago (unless only then an avalanche of horror and presepulchral cold thirty some there birthday suddenly collapses - and still yesterday there were sixteen!!) to you unexpectedly there comes some little old woman and calls herself your mother (mother - she always was such young and beautiful, and fed you with cream of wheat with lumps). Between work and a dinner, work and the TV, work and a dream, work and work, work, work and work... one morning you wake up and a lightning in badly slept brain understand: today you should not run for work by the put nine o`clock.

… You understand the tired brain, but not the tired body which till years to the electric circuit developed and fulfilled to accurately debugged mechanism wearily prozhektirut in habitual vertical position and goes to kitchen: to shave, wash, cook, drink, to swallow.

The brain gives to a body other team: to lie and doze hours so to nine. But the body cannot understand why in a brain there was such shocking phase lag and, poigryvy the muscles which badly had a rest in a night, aims to jump, jump out, cavort and in a habitual pose of a hungry tyrannosaur to run across the territory, being enough and swallowing, pulling and extending, rushing and rushing, precisely to keep within to seven thirty, and after to jump out of the house, and forward - on the bus, the subway, an electric train …

Gradually to a body reaches badly clear signal that today so early, as usual, for work it is not necessary for it. But up to the end it is not able to master the habit which took roots to little fingers of legs to rise at the same time. And therefore the brain and a body should be reconciled with idle uneasy lying under a blanket at most hours to eight. Then all body begins to itch, to hoot and heat up, promising to ache, fuse, blow up. In order to avoid undesirable consequences it is necessary to rise, come to kitchen, to make coffee, to cool all chips …

Between times and as opposed to a brain joins an uneasy body it is unknown from where undertaken and before peacefully dozing call of duty. Despite of all reasonable arrangements and messages to go to sleep is farther, it wakes up even more and begins to crawl so the opposite prickles in all body what to suffer there is no urine any more.

I cover with a jacket, I run a brush on the become dusty shoes and exactly for an hour after put I take off for a door, straight for a May alarm and the commotion. And on the street - mother honest! - life in all its force: thrushes couples output the anthems to the sun, bees - toilers round dances dance around apple-trees and vishen, the neighbour`s cat Timofey sits having blinked on a porch and here - here will die, a paskudnik, - so to it it is good! The beauty is what!

… Ah as it is exciting to go outside in serene May day, directly in the middle of busy everyday life! You as if get to another dimension about which did not suspect. Here sky, pure to a stupor. And sun, bright to a blindness. And around the forgotten freedom. Around freedom and you in its middle. And you should not run anywhere. In total at work, and you are not present. All fight for a survival in the jungle of human hearts. And you hurries there is no place. You are free. Own master. You - strangely enough, the person, also go down the street, and not only to work …

Ah, this forbidden feeling! It is not absolutely similar to that feeling of freedom when you on the lawful, given you by a broad gesture of a generous bossy hand holiday, and it is not similar at all to when you have a casual extraordinary day off in which you stick still to a pobola of that at work. No, it is absolutely another. Better. More brightly. More tartly on taste. It - as Evino apple, is sweet - a sour stream of a forbidden fruit of pro-boundaries of the shivering fingers and to the generous spring earth …

Feeling of a silent intimate holiday. Silent, because it not for all. It - only for you. There are no crowds, huge number of the people hurrying to taste all pleasures of life forward you. A silent, warm fever that ninety percent of your tribespeople do not try to pull out, tear out and cut on pieces at you this yellow sun, to drink this blue sky, to take away this spring commotion …

Towards, on concrete to the sidewalk along spring, the lonely passerby, so lonely as if on a narrow track of a pine glade where sometimes you go comes across to you. His look is not strained at all, confusedly is not lowered, affectedly is not detached. He looks to you in the face, you look to him. Also you see that they the same color, as the sky, only slightly more gloomy. His look is not fierce. In this week hour in it there is no fight. And even something like tenderness and understanding common to all mankind,

so long ago forgotten … However everything passes in this world, and good passes, having hardly come as if is afraid to be late and stick in this world. It is time for me to be at work. And there, mummies … noise, din … dismissed someone … took someone … the director and therefore all are tousled … came

my idyll of the yellow sun and the blue sky is scattered in a flash. The rage is felt on contrast especially brightly. First I choke … but then - a drink - another of this vivifying to poison, this belladonna … and I come to life … I recover … and here recent, fleeting I am already forgotten, and I familiar, “usual“ rose.

The scheme earned … hello, it I.