Rus Articles Journal

Day of sixth

a Week later after holiday. At 7:00, as usual, I am awoken by a mobile phone alarm clock with a melancholic melody of “Happy Circle“ under which it is more pleasant to fill up, than to wake up. You remember, how in the movie “Groundhog Day“ where the hero woke up each God`s morning under sounds of “I got you babe“. Both the same melody, and one more day - the twin, as like as two peas similar on previous, and same incredible “pleasure“ from his approach. And I.

Ya right there I throw off from myself a blanket and I go to kitchen where, as always, I a mechanical motion put boiled water and I begin, as always, morning ablution. Then I have breakfast, as always, swaged porridge, I put on, I will bring in visibility of an order, I see that I have in a stock five more minutes, and I estimate what to me to spend them for - on morning conversation good luck or on the last impressive fulling on the made bed. Some time I hesitate between the first and second, then it becomes a shame to me with the shameful lack of faith and laziness, and I kneel before image, I become straight, I put in a hand prayer, I close eyes and I begin, as usual, the prayer, as usual, with the same words “My God, Pater Noster, Izhees on Do Not Enrage …“. In the head, in chaotic circulation, as always, any trite miscellanea spin: what shoes today to me to put on whether it is time for me to be tonsured whether the rain etc. will go. Sometimes, however, I nevertheless without special vanity and with sincere feeling manage my monologue with the Father Nebesny after whom I feel better, I want to live and fight further. But not today. Today I am full of the most bad presentiments, everyday concrete monotony presses on a brain - how to fight against trite routine of an ezhednevnost and to remain the optimist? I jump out

Ya on the street and a fast pace I go to a stop. On the road I nevertheless decide to rejoice to all small pleasures which will meet to me on the way today and not to be upset at all to those small troubles which and the egg which is eaten away does not cost, but afflict also strongly, as well as global catastrophes.

Having arrived to work, I, as usual, vigorously philosophize about people and God with also philosophically adjusted Valeria Andreevna, meanwhile, serially connecting all our computers to a network. Always it gives pleasure to me our morning dialogues probably because both of us think in a similar key as two disappointed in the lives of once pure in heart romantic which forcedly became cynics - philosophers, one old, another is younger. She only of all other our ladies who refined and patiently observes the unwritten time limit of discussion does not outvoice

and does not try to convince by force of decibels me of the correctness, verbosity to push the opinion as only true what I am very grateful to it for. Our views can be opposite, polar, because of an age difference, education, sexual distinction, but any of us does not raise the voice and does not try to overpersuade by force of a voice and the number of words another.

of Judgment of Valeria Andreevna can carry a severity shade, even severity in relation to weaknesses and shortcomings of people, her opinions can be sharp, pessimistic, is unforgiving, but they are never poshla and are vulgar, are not covered with a petty-bourgeois layer of sausage, vodka, mobile phones, wheelbarrows, dachas and to that similar “integral“ vital rubbish, as at all others. They, straining veins and the remains of muscles, on the shrunk legs of Valeria Andreevna for disabled, a rachitic green sprout of a stubborn thistle, through concrete of the cities and manure of villages, always safely reach up, for the sun, for God, but are not beaten it is a pity down, to liquid dirt of pervasive narrow-mindedness and an obyvatelshchina.

B 8:28, in two minutes prior to the beginning of the working day to us promptly rushes the director, is canny, but, seeing that yet not all working collective took the workplaces, it, having turned on heels and having looked for an absent look to whom to direct the irrepressible energy, suddenly in a military way an accurate step goes to me. It is necessary to notice that on all visibilities, it always had special views of me, and he took that me for the purpose of attraction of bigger number of clients and according to sales level increase, but, alas, has to admit that its expectations as he tried, I did not justify.

- Smiths, well there with Kazan? - habitually our factory leader hoots.

A that with Kazan? With Kazan anything. Called, wrote, provided all necessary information. But, as always, nobody showed interest in cooperation with us. The prices that at us together with a tax will be higher, than at our competitors, and production, troublesome, it is necessary to deliver for three nine lands. So waste of time and paper.

- We Call, Vladimir Sergeyevich, we work out each client. Which - who already became interested - just kills me washing, no, not lie, washing the sticky resourcefulness learned with sourish hitretsy, a bechevochny uzhovost. I almost redden, so I do not want to wriggle, say that it “is necessary“, it is so opposite to me from all this lame “half-truth“, and there is a wish, oh, as there is a wish to tell all plain truth, what is actually - simply and not absolutely is simple - that all on - a fig our cooperation and our production that the prices are higher, than at our competitors, quality is worse that it is necessary to carry goods month and so on - so everything is simple and clear! But the gloomy persons who meanwhile are brought up colleagues from - under low foreheads look at me with severity of sphinxes - will not answer a management riddle - and not to pass to you a terrible penalty!

On big scores and on small too, all our work consists of such here “half-truth“ if not to tell simply, lie: the exaggerated figures or fabricated, or stsarapanny from a ceiling. We always say to our Great and Awful director what he wants to hear and not that we believe or as is actually, or at best selflessly we are silent, ourselves in damage. We always share the cowed unattractive truth only with each other, and that in a whisper, “from - under floors“, so it is ugly.

- Call Kazan, you have phone numbers, and tell here that. Tell that we are ready to include the VAT in production cost to relieve them of bustle on tax administrations. Quicker.

“Well and that? You think, it will interest them? All the same final cost of goods will be higher, than at our more successful competitors, and quality will remain the same, that is it is worse“ - and washes away me to tell. But I am not the Japanese pilot - kamikadets, and I have no plane heroically to cut it in the director`s battle ship, and to die death brave, some time remaining on lips of the colleagues - it would be so simpler and simpler.

Ya I rush to phone, I consider the phrase, I call. From thirds of attempt I am connected, at last, to one of directors - their desire to communicate with us, their future business partners, &ndash is so big; and I, becoming covered by a perspiration, trying that my voice sounded as it is possible more surely, I begin the monologue of the daring pedlar, seller “all that it is so necessary for you and without what it is impossible in any way“.

Despite my oar enthusiasm, a voice on other end remains quite sluggish, uninterested, and my ardent enthusiasm loses the degree too - I understand that all this waste of time and cool genocide of my living nervous cells.

- Well, we will think, and if that we, will contact you - the voice for four thousand kilometers from me though I perfectly understand that nobody ever will communicate impudently lies. One more “polite“ lie. I hang up a receiver.

of Tu enters the director accompanied by some small suite from any “poddakun“, and is interested:

- Well that, Kuznetsov?

- Called, in detail explained everything - I snuffle - it seems as became interested,

promised to ponder and call back.

- Well - our leader shines as the polished dollar. It seems that he sacredly

trusts in the scheme. And I am not present. Probably, I am a fool.

the Director leaves. I remain in an environment of colleagues. As always in such cases trite verbal fuss and speculation rises: who as as told, who that thought, who that he not so told, not so thought, who did not think that he told, and who spoke not that thought at whom what was a look. We as if court who were just visited by the sunlike and lunoliky king, we discuss each gesture, each step, each word. All are excited, affairs are forgotten.

Ya, meanwhile, I rush on a warehouse - I need to enter receipt of new production into the database and to be in time with listing of arrival and the rest to meeting. The program new and I still not blindly can manage with it.

When I come back, 40 minutes later, I see that passions “on the director“ did not settle yet. I am summoned by the deputy director. I have a presentiment of bad. Undoubtedly, someone all reported on my conversation with the director, as always vulgarly having raped the truth.

Ya I come. I sit down. I wait. Having lectured the head of department of sale for sins present and former, having pricked few times her female vanity and human dignity, it turns the clear look on me.

- What you to the director naplet there? - I am surprised always by bossy talent to speak with the subordinates as if with a small group of towns, the degenerates who forgot the name. All the an important, at best indulgent, look, each word and gesture, you it is let know that you either the idiot, or the idler, or the liar, and is more often - all together.

- Yes anything. Told, generally as is.

- Give in detail, in details.

Feeling as the careless school student, I begin the boring narration, again feeling

as disgusting sticky sense of guilt in my soul lifts the grease golovushka, with pleasure stretches and impudently smiles decayed teeth.

Few times the deputy reproaches me with lie, few times with “misunderstanding of a situation“, and in the end in general calls me “a pig in oranges“ - as “I do not understand some horse-radish“. Amusing expression. In the address for the last year I heard such here expressions, probably, more, than for all the it is not enough - malsk conscious life - but, this time, blood rushes to me to the head, and, reddening for the caused offense, I ask it to choose as a firm voice expressions - we not on a market. Funny, someone from the famous people told that the person cannot be humiliated without him on that permissions. Blue-eyed dreamer. It is possible, and still as. who only taught us to tell to

I in the childhood the truth - and you feel that you think? Who taught us to believe

in all these common truths which on figs are necessary to nobody?

Who taught what the truth always wins against, and the lie always is prostrate? Yes each lived day, and in particular each working day, each new situation, each little and big chief, force, compel and just ask and order - EMBELLISH, EXAGGERATE, DISTORT, LIE! You will not lie - you will not live!

Well, matter of course - who does not lie? And grandfathers our liars, and differently would not win the Second World War and did not survive, it was necessary to parents, otherwise would not lift us, but how it is done now - and all for the sake of the tolstopuzy interests, on fronts of commercial fights, I have no words.

Here and this time, having remained with it alone, it it is attentive, with obvious reproach of the senior companion looks at me.

- Smiths, you, in general, are able to lie? - indulgently he as if the question sounds questions “When you cease to lie?“.

- I Think, in a year that you know me, you could understand that in this subject at school I had fat unit - I defiantly answer.

Conversation is finished. What it is possible to tell the person who is not able to lie? Whether it is possible to trust it? He will always give you, will sell with giblets from - for the foolish adherence to principles. Whether it is possible to rely on it at the most responsible moments? It will always bring you with silly, to nobody the unprofitable truth. What benefit from the truth? One losses. Tell

I to the director: “Yes, yes, Vladimir Sergeyevich, we work, without cease, for the last three days 100 letters are already written, 50 potential clients are rung round, 25 regions are in detail informed, the enterprises became interested, call and write us, ask to send a price - sheets, to acquaint with cooperation conditions - see scale? Masshtabishche! And the director is happy - work is humming! here - well, I for these three days wrote to

A twenty letters, well, rang round twenty enterprises (and more and it will not turn out! It is strange that the highly educated administration does not understand that for such short period it is more and you will not make even if to tear a navel! If to take into account the mass of others routine, alas, not noticed by anybody, put) - you see all this poverty, and? Here, it, truth. So the falsehood is more favorable, a krasivsha.

the Truth is such little, dry old woman with a silent voice which and a bag to bring it is possible to help, crossing the road, there, to help, sympathize even, to regret - but not Bol! Too it sluggish, ugly, unfashionable, uninteresting. Gets under feet, prevents to work. And a falsehood - as the young long-legged maiden, with big buffers and blyadsky eyes. And caracoles, and flaunts! Bright, kromkogolosy, impudent. With such it is pleasant to deal. Both it is possible to go and to lie down.

During the day waits for me new test. I sit in front of the computer and in search of the necessary information on the machine-tool constructing enterprises I kill the remains of the sight. Suddenly on the monitor the inscription “Carefully appears! Virus!“ The computer freezes up. I call the programmer. The computer is switched-off and taken away in repair. The Internet is connected to other computer that in a far corner. I do a pause, I leave. Then I come back and sit down at the computer in a corner, at mountains of office equipment and the expanded ficuses. At office, except me the economist Irina Aleksandrovna, the economist Lenochka and the storekeeper Maria. All of them are keen on the last gossips, and do not notice me. What they speak about, I do not listen. As usual, some muck about someone. I try to concentrate at the work though to make it quite difficult as until the end of the working day, Friday, there were two hours. Suddenly, edge of an ear, I catch the name. Involuntarily I begin to listen. Conspiratorial half-whisper the economist Irina Aleksandrovna speaks:

- And in what, for example, he is engaged? What from it, on figs, sense?

- You about whom? - with obvious interest the economist Lenochka is interested.

- Our Egor - educates her news agency, - the computer plainly does not know how many times I asked to make it che - nibud - could not.

- Yes, yes - the storekeeper Maria assents. I it too somehow caused to help, so he ten was picked minutes - did not make. And called Tanechka, it in a minute corrected everything.

Ya I begin to doubt - they obviously speak not about me. I am not a programmer, not the programmer, does not belong to my duties perfect knowledge of computer facilities. The speech, obviously, goes about some other poor fellow, the victim of a babsky gossip.

- Says that it not on protection took …

- Lies, the director has to him an obvious interest as if it to it the relative - it is similar, nevertheless

about me. I as far as I know, only in collective who settled not on acquaintance - it was just lucky. And these people with whom I worked more than a year and whom I quite well know, people to whom I made much kind and good, to be so spoiled cannot that at my presence to discuss me. Or they do not guess what I here? No, the speech, obviously, not about me.

Conversation, meanwhile, proceeds - that can be more pleasant than a gossip,

of disgusting gossips behind someone`s back. Such zhelchepuskaniye give illusion of your superiority over object of a gossip, allocate with false feeling of confidence, but only for a while.

- Sits, for hours is silent as if despises - zlopykhat news agency.

- Yes, I too, want to add, are wildy some, unsociable. Neither to talk to it plainly, nor to communicate - the economist Lenochka paints sponges, puts them a bow and looks enough in a mirror.

- Somehow it saw the wife. Did not want to show, never gave it, neither on a drinking bout, nor in the company outdoors as if did not want to show. And so, ordinary-looking such, small, as gray mouse. Speak, they cannot buy the apartment in any way. Live in some semi-shed where even the relative who …

without feeling legs under itself has no toilet, I rise and I approach a window. Lively heart-to-heart talk is suddenly cut short. These words were, obviously, not for my ears. THEY BELIEVED THAT I AM not AT OFFICE! Hangs heavy as a huge cobble-stone before falling from break, awkward silence. Even in such angry and vulgar petty bourgeoises there are some remains of conscience. Back skin I feel as to all of them it is awkward, it is a shame for told.

- Well, I went, work waits - the storekeeper Maria says and hasty the door retires for


Ya I come back to the place. I look at the screen, but I cannot concentrate in any way. As sick and disgustingly to hear it how your colleagues “celebrate“ you for eyes! For a moment I want to rise and state to them, these small gossips and foolish squabblers, everything that I think of them! I want to shout them that as they live, caring only for the petty-bourgeois “intestinal“ interests it is impossible! All their problems and eggs rotten do not stand! They for weeks feel unfortunate only because they have an old &ndash mobile phone; “in total“ for hundred dollars, then, as at the girlfriend new a mobile phone for five hundred! That someone bought an abrupt wheelbarrow, giving, went to pyramids to Egypt, bought a new jacket, sandals, pants! Someone was marked out absolutely unfairly by the administration - just in the morning in a toilet well descended and therefore stayed in good mood. They are gnawed by chernozhelchny envy that someone earns more, than they - money - their mammon, their meaning of life, their god! The first question which they ask the stranger what came to them with the order is “And how many you receive?“.

All their talk are reduced to the small self-interests. Another does not interest them. What to devour what to dress how to earn more. A new mattress on palm leaves, the Czech toilet bowl with heating, plastic windows which do not pass in the winter cold, and in the summer to heat. And me ON ALL THIS to SHIT FROM the HIGH BELLTOWER!

I want to shout them, this svinopodobny, covered thick layer of salted pork fat and cosmetics, to gossips that besides a thick gut the person has also a soul! Small, wrinkled, driven into dark boondocks of our being, a dushonka. It has huge sad eyes, and to it it is very uncomfortable in our fat body. I want to blurt out

that it is possible to derive pleasure and has to not only from tasty food and expensive binge. That it is possible to fast not only for the sake of a slim figure. It is possible to stick out not only from the fact that on you a new dress and a stylish hairstyle, and you feel better, above the others.

I want to get up and to throw contemptuously into their full too choosy muzzles what so to live as they live, it is impossible! But I perfectly understand that my angry appeal to them will be in language, unfamiliar for them. And I will be simply declared the madman. In a madhouse, perhaps, will also not send, but to collective stigmatization without fail will betray. There live these “bodies“ by the principle “who not with us, that against us“.

their hammered, confused with envious thoughts and silly lascivious words, zazhraty sausage and filled in with vodka, a sovestishka nevertheless sometimes wakes up in them, it is a shame to them, MORE TRUE UNCOMFORTABLLY because comfort of ueber alles for them - above all.

of Minutes about five they crawl the fat bums on grease chairs, then AI rises, as if accidentally passes by my table, and as if accidentally throws: “There is no wish to work, however, Egor?“ What attention! “Yes, heat“ - languidly the second says.

is ended the Working day. I say goodbye to all. My silly education does not allow me to show the contempt for these low gossips and vulgar persons, to let know that their silly company &ndash is unpleasant to me; I cannot leave without having said goodbye. The economist Lenochka again on a horse, from a hip caracoles to and fro. The news agency lours as if I it offended it, but not it me. I know

Ya that I will not manage to close a door behind myself as a new disgusting gossip will begin, gossips in the form of versions, watering from a tub. To muffle pathetic bleating of the conscience, me will paint even more dark colors, and will be repaid, will hang up the medal “For Morals and High Morality“ on a breast, and under loud fanfares of the voices they will go home, resolving global issues it seems “That to prepare it for dinner“, “Where to spend days off“ and “To buy the new mobile phone because “old“ already half a year, or to wait“.

Instead of going down on the main ladder, I turn on the left, and I go down on lateral, conducting to locker rooms of workers, a ladder - so I do not want to see anybody and, pretending to be to speak “Good-bye. All good“. From the majority of these baby`s dummies just feels sick me.

All these court and feigned “hello“ and “good-bye“ - and it is worth seeing somebody in the city as, will turn back a head as if sees you for the first time - all these luscious ulybochka, “oh and that you“, “oh and cannot be“, small talks or about same, all these dears, small with hypertrophied vanity, cause in me convulsive involuntary reductions of a throat now.

the Street does not calm me. On the contrary, I feel, how in me as if the sphere which is pumped up by air, the irritation grows. The elementary, evil irritation on all these full, self-satisfied, with is proud hitched up, or louring, people.

Here, towards to me, as if on a podium of the city of Paris as some spoiled top - a modelka, the baby of years of twenty paces. It has really quite good figure fitted to impropriety a sexual bum with the thongs pushed between rolls. She is proud of the back as the most “outstanding“ part of the being. She knows that in it, men appreciate it. And all she looks down on all. All who are not so good as it, she despises, in soul. Who is not less attractive, she also despises. Her biggest dream is to be model and to act for glossy magazines. Or to pick up the oligarch. Well, or there, some mother`s wealthy darling, at the worst. The last book which she read was … eee, probably, it was only yesterday, only not the book it was, and, again - some glossy magazine. Its favourite words are “Super!“, “Uau!“, “Cool!“, such modern Ellochka is the cannibal.

With lines of the movement it is replaced by the well-fad man of years of thirty. Such fattened pylon, with a double chin and a fat beer paunch. Despite the full raskormlennost, it does not hesitate of it at all, and, apparently, on the contrary, even more forward exposes the “labor make callous“. Life to it “in a high“. He loves beer, too respects vodka, to devour, pomatsat a telok, the abrupt mobile phone with “ blue tooth “ and the megapixel camera “to come off“ on Fridays in “Palatsa“ with boys, to go in the summer to the Crimea and Turkey. Its credo “Life is good when you drink slowly“.

A here well-fad, with dissatisfied as if it has an itch in a sphincter, a look, the young woman of years of fifty, with decoloured, apparently, it is called melirovanny, a bush of hair. On it white, almost transparent trousers through which the pants pushed in the back distinctly are seen (what for fashion at women, especially, already at not young women, to wear transparent trousers with obviously appearing underwear?) . She something cackles in the mobile phone - a folding bed at what without lowering at all the opposite voice as if in the Universe only it and the one to whom it pours out the discontent.

Ya I cannot understand all this female “pleasure“ - to parade, on a public potreba, itself half-naked, with all the delights as if prostitutes who cannot be bought. All these fitted bottoms - they as if compete at whom objtyanuty more sexy, all these thongs and not thongs thrust and the pants which are not absolutely thrust into the back. Especially I am “killed“ by mature, “middle-aged“ young women, in a pursuit of youth fashion “ïîëóíþ“.

Lovely women, really is pleasant to you that unfamiliar men lewdly examine you, undress and bang the views? You, for certain, have husbands, grooms, gentlemen. Be bared for them. Bring all sensual, imaginable and inconceivable pleasures to the beloveds. Please them. They will be SO grateful to you. But why it to do for all?

Really do not explain to young little girls of their mother what is bad, simply indecent, to walk the streets in “to a piska“ the cut-off shorts, with the rolls which are sticking out in the fresh air? What under a transparent T-shirt it is necessary to dress a bra, but not to sport the nipples which are sticking out in different directions? Where notorious maiden bashfulness got to?

Near the trade Dynamo pavilions a body holiday. Such “Fair of vanity“. Crowds of the fat, full, well “packed“ bodies. The chewing bodies. Whipping beer, bodies. Scribbling on mobile phones, bodies. Everyone is proud and happy with itself(himself).

of Wons, goes a couple. It bears just bought … What is it? Computer? Audio system? And, home theater. Abruptly. Just super. It it is proud paces as if in his hand the torch with Olympic flame got by it in equal sports fight, but not a piece of plastic for zombiing of brains. She also fatly and surely looks on people around. Happiness and exudes from them.

A here, on an abrupt wheelbarrow, whether “Bentley“, whether still what crap, approaches cool persons of a gangster exterior. The chuvikha with the decoloured hair, the fitted back, on noguvyvorachivayushchy hairpins gets out of a wheelbarrow, and the dude, shortly short-haired, sunbathed, it is visible from the South. “Bentley“, it, of course, got for the salary the worker - the machine operator. They enough, and as if soaring over the guilty earth while all others are forced to go nevertheless into it, go to doors of “feeding trough“, the grocery pavilion “A“.

A in “feeding trough“ the promised land. Paradise of the glutton. The horn of plenty for a minute does not cease to vomit the gifts. Sausages of various forms and grades, smoked, raw smoked, half-smoked, boiled. Completely zayevanny servelata, a salami, balyks (why “fish“ called a piece of air-dried meat - I will not understand), “Hunting“, “Moscow“, “Siberian“, and with not it huge keeping of all these “razeshenny the Ministry of food and the food industry of additives E“ “Doctor`s“, “Anniversary“, “Leningrad“, kumpyak, shanks, briskets, barrels and other. Svinink`s

, a telyatinka, a govyadinka, a yagnyatinka, a kuryatinka, a gusyatinka - slyunk run - not words, but song! It seems, slaughters and meat-processing plants do not stop for a minute the wheel of death. The live creature will be born on light on command of the owner - the person. Quickly, on hormones, antibiotics and artificial additives, in close and dirty closets, zagonchik, cowsheds, pigsties reaches the gargantyuansky sizes then, only several months later, and at best through a year and a half of such life, it is hasty destroyed (here, a word - “is destroyed“ as if “has a good time“ or “amused“ - there is in it neither bodily fear, nor the death, despite the misleading word root, but “is not simply hammered“ and “will be earned“. Its only thing, skotinka, mission is to lay down one more layer of flabby salted pork fat on fat thighs and vspuchenny a belly of the misters. But nobody from imposingly strolling between the filled-up counters of full burghers thinks of it. And what for? Differently appetite will be gone.

Fish from all seas and oceans. Red salmons, humpback salmons, Kets, fat Atlantic herrings, white pollocks, hakes, Norwegian halibuts, pollacks, royal Caspian sturgeon and beluga, starred sturgeon, huge crabs, crayfish, shrimps, salmon and beluga caviar.

Fruit and vegetables from every quarter of the earth. Juicy fragrant melons in the middle of June from Iran. The red, not expiring juice at all and not spoiling water-melons from Uzbekistan. Brightly - orange, one size oranges, lemons, grapefruits from Morocco and Spain. Olives from Greece. Tomatoes from Moldova. Bananas from Ecuador. Apples from Poland. Pears from Hungary. Plums from Slovakia. All gladenky, brilliant, as if fake. Lies for weeks and does not spoil. It seems, planes, trains and the ships plow air, terrestrial and water open spaces, despite of thousands of kilometers day and night, without sparing gasoline, kerosene and coal that to all of us it was tasty.

of the Mountain of nuts, raisin, marzipans, candied fruits, candies, shares, cakes, cakes, pies. Mayonnaise, ketchups, spreads, horse-radishes, mustard, sauces, salads. Forfeits, stakes, sprayta, dzhyusa, cocktails, teas, kofe. The chemical and food industries go hand in hand, they are brothers for a century. Sometimes also you will not sort where who. Semper fi! Verna to a grave. To death … From glut of an organism chemistry …. people or do not watch

In the pavilion at each other at all, so they are busy with contemplation of all colourful, attracting as from the magic fairy tale, food variety, or if nevertheless notice whom, then excessively and are falsely kind, or try somewhat quicker from an uninvited communicator - the Tatar to get off and to run, run, run on the important and “tasty“ issues.

On Saturdays and Sundays the whole families as in the Hermitage, Tretyakov gallery, or at least in a zoo, come here. Fat and important, as domestic roosters, husbands and daddies, the watching eye looking around, overdressed, on very tall heels, in hope to buy still so necessary “che - nibud“ the wives and mummies chewing the cholesteric hamburgers and sausages whipping poisonous “Coca“ or to “Forfeit“, the children who early are growing fat. Secular rest. Cultural action. Vanity fair.

Sometimes here get the shabbiest look to a floor - bomzhik, poorly dressed rural old women, or just natives of dysfunctional families. They are similar to nasty doggies, it is unknown as the thoroughbred dogs who appeared at an exhibition. With such shop assistants are usually extremely unkind, thanks to extreme financial insolvency and low purchased ability of the last.

The other day had honor to observe how creeping away extensively, with “Pisa“ on the head, the bedash shop assistant of sea delicacies and a bird, roughly as it the hungry doggie or a cat attracted with a food smell, nearly kicks drove the dry old woman with a crutch. That, the “forest“ look frightened off the full “konsumer“ moving sedately the rolls and loaves. I, did not stand up for the old woman, that already slowly and sadly, from verbal kicks, went away. But, in revenge to the fat gorgena I decided not to do shopping at her.

Once I met at an entrance to “feeding trough“ mother, modestly dressed tall woman, with the child - the disabled person, the boy of years of six, in a wheelchair. It nervously squeezed lips - the role of the beggar was so burdensome it, it was also not childly serious and vseponimayushch. They asked handouts, alms, sincere or at least financial participation at rushing by mad consumers. Of course, I made the smallest that could make - gave them some kopek, - euphoria of extreme consumption shook with still narkopodopny shiver mine malonasytevsheesya a body. I began to watch other “konsumer“.

Here, some stout woman put a crumpled piece of paper in an old shapchenka and hasty left doors of “feeding trough“. Here, the young man, at first having flown by by, stopped, returned back, picked in pockets, chose some trifle, threw there, and rushed off further. Thanks to you, the person is lovely. Not such bad youth at us. Someone the third, aged, already slowly, sedately put the shred of mother and to the son.

the World everything is not without kind people, you will think. Also you will be right. Earth Russian and okolorussky vsegdand were famous for soft-heartedness and pity. By the way, earlier in Russia maidens did not speak to the promiseds “I love you“, spoke “I feel sorry for you“. To feel sorry for someone was “decently“. “Indecently“ now. “Pity is not necessary to me“ - tells in us pride. And so, count how many “konsumer“ ran, a bullet flew by by, hasty expelling, “chur, me, chur, do not get an infection“, from the consciousness this picture unfortunate mothers are the beggar and the son - the disabled person. How many hasty condemned how many contemptuously sniffed how many indifferently passed by … Hundred … And heart was stirred up at three. And that “on - trifles“, for a second …

At last, I fall out of this den of gluttony with a full bag of some tasty chemical pseudo-food, and I go home. I in confusion. On the one hand I am glad that joined this tribe of gluttons and drunkards, dandies and fans of dolce vita - a dolce vita. It amuses my vanity. With another - I despise myself for the weakness - in a weekend, I all - gave in to temptation of a zheludkoublazheniye, this most widespread and vseprostitelny sin from all.

of Crowd svinolyudy thin, mobile trills are distributed more and more seldom. In air there is less arrogance, narcissism, egoism. It becomes easier for me to breathe. Suddenly, I see “normal“, real people. Real men and women. They “normally“ ragovarivat - not on mobile phones, “normally“ smile - not by means of foolish virtual smilies, points, commas and a dash, or “normally“ look, go, laugh. The paroxysm of consumerism passed. I begin to breathe exactly.

Fir-tree tops grow at me before eyes. The road passes into a narrow footpath. Air is purer. Deafening sounds the engines are not killed any more by a silent, melodious twitter of birds. On heart becomes easier, “more divine“. Yes, yes, I am closer and closer to so far God. I, big sinner. I do not think that it was from sausage that lies at me in a package. Though “I want“ it too. For that matter, I too only the person, from blood and flesh, and nothing human is alien to me.

in the Evening, home “is tightened“ the wife. And though we are very “different“ people, and are full of disagreements, I am glad to it, more than ever. As to any person in the Universe. She is dissatisfied with something, grumbles, well, know how all these women: did not wash a plate, not there put socks, still that. Well, well, has the right. I am far from perfect. And all the same I am glad to it, more than ever. I am glad that it came that discontentedly bukhtit something there, I am glad that we have a daughter that we are healthy that we together …

“Telenyanya“, as always, hollows brains rubbish it seems “Kill me again“, “Stupid, stupid and still growing dull“, “Dump mother from the train“, or brainwashes debilizm it seems “Do not brake, snikersn!“, “Make a pause - eat “Tviks“!“, “Play a lotto - there will be that!“.

Here the girl - the canary, with a good ringing voice, paces in front of a chamber, in the form of “an abrupt napomazanny telka“ with a lascivious look - there were teachers! - which only mission to provide a constant erection to “boyfriend“ - another, at the sight of it, just will not get into the head, in the form of successful business - the lady, in a mine - the skirt opening thin matches - legs, again - with a playful look, in what stupid glamourous look.

the Girl vanishes, giving way to some other brainless nonsense. For example, very much concerns all as, shopping in one of the most expensive boutiques (one more foolish word, or “shop“, for example) not to overpay and not to buy superfluous, the average Russian, the poor creature, so suffers from “ shopping mania “. To psychoanalysts, unfortunate goes - if only it was cured!

Or what dance floors on Ibiza in this season - “cool!“, and what “sediment!“. How to buy garage not at the price of the apartment what wheelbarrow is suitable more for the second Russian trouble from what mayonnaise there is less fat on thighs what dogs of breed fade less - and all this in an evening prime - a time.

the Evening family film session very much “pleases“ with niagara from even the smoking blood, an everestama of the bodies honeycombed by bullets, variety of naked bums and breasts. The mankind has no other problems, except dilemmas like low-calorie mayonnaise or cocaine dance floors on Ibiza.

that in Russia every fifth - the finished drunk, and every third - the household drunkard, the fact that every tenth densely sits on a needle, and every twelfth carries in himself AIDS or HIV, the fact that every tenth street child, that EACH official the bribe taker, and every fifth woman the prostitute, the fact that children`s homes and nursing homes are crowded, and on abortions “great“ Russia is high on the list in the world and the first in Europe - occupies a little. But we have Sochi.

Ya I cut down “an idiotic box“ and I go to a garden. There is nothing interesting, everything is familiar for a long time. Several beds of cucumbers, cabbage, beet and other vegetation. Some bird is filled in on an apple-tree branch. I try to adjust with it dialogue by means of the parody to the bird`s song.

the Sun slowly inclines to the horizon. At fields, behind gardens, horses are grazed. Having caught sight of me, they come off the important occupation, eating of a grass, and look at me. I look at them.

Ya I enter the jungle of the expanded clover and I dive down. Behind a fence the neighbor potters about. For certain it twists a finger at a temple, watching my equivoques. It is sure, he saw me going by and something speaking in beard, and sometimes and just loudly aloud more than once. “Unless there can be normal a person who talks to himself?“ - “normal“ people question. Also answer “cannot“. Only the one who behaves precisely is normal as we, “normal“ people. “Normal“ - means banal, means as all. To be “normal“ - means to trendet about houses, cars what to devour what to buy. To be “normal“ - means, to drink when Friday. Means, to have the mobile phone. Means to paint a head in all colors of a rainbow as everything, and to carry thongs. Means, so means. That`s all. And I talk by itself, I read aloud Akhmatova and Tsvetaeva, Pushkin and Lermontov, Byron, Goethe, Schiller`s verses, own verses. I read to myself because you do not read them others. Not interestingly. Or will tell “you Will think!“, or “It is set!“. Will call “botanist“, and will laugh at my philosophy. Today to read someone verses - it is ridiculous. And I argue with myself in five foreign languages and me it in a high! I am the best listener and the interlocutor.

Having dived into a clover, I scatter hands and legs in different directions. I close eyes. Then I open. I look in the sky. The sky looks in me. “Well that? Got tired? “ - asks the sky. “Got tired“ - I answer. “Nothing, will pass“ - tells the sky. “Will pass“ - I speak.