Rus Articles Journal

The dream


I extremely was nervous All that week, finding that some reasons and explanations, simply writing off my nervous state for flashes on the sun and lunar phases. Everything went worse than ever: in a stopper staid hour, having been late for work, at work there was a number of problems on which solution the mass of forces and time left moreover last night was almost not succeeded to close an eye, turned with a side sideways till the morning - and there passed the whole day as the sleep-walker, with the head in sticky fog.

So there passed one more day. Towards evening tension did not fall down but only it amplified, and I decided to make secure and accept for the first time in life sleeping pill. Dropped to itself some drops on the basis of a valerian and still something there which found in the first-aid kit whose period of storage as it was specified on a label, expired last year. Then dropped still a dose, for fidelity, and went a bit earlier to sleep. But as I did not try, trying to imagine that summer sea gradually lapping about the sandy coast, pictures from the childhood where I with friends swam by the boat and made attacks on a collective-farm kitchen garden, it was impossible to fall asleep. Whether sleeping pill was too weak, whether my nervous tension too strong, but hour two I provorochatsya with a side sideways: rose to open a window to close, poured to itself water, tormented with thirst, unsuccessfully trying to be sent to Morpheus`s power. Having risen once again, I still dropped to myself drops and the evil flopped in a warm bed, with irritation thinking of how everything bothered me and as I was tired of everything. At last, in half an hour it seemed to me that my thoughts became a little putany, and sleepy fog fell to the head. I felt how my body became soft, noise from vanity of day was gone in ears and in ten minutes I felt how everything mixed up, and I slowly floated somewhere up, up and aside, and minutes through ten failed in some black hole, having physically felt and also having physically thought last time that here it, long-awaited rest.

And me the dream came in dream, stranny and it is finer than which, I and nowadays can imagine nothing.

In - the first, having woken up in the dream, I precisely knew that, having woken up in it, I, actually died. In - the second, I found myself on a mountain track, soft loops of the leader to a bottom, to the valley summer, full of morning moisture which was stretched on all parties, stretched to most before me pictures shook imagination. Everything was enormous, huge and filled with itself all space around. The feeling was it as if you were reduced many times or all increased around is hundredfold, having strengthened tone and shades, having aggravated all your feelings. In air it was warm and smelled of a mountain heather. Why a heather, I did not know how I did not know how it looks or smells and whether smells in general, but what smelled of it, I from where - knew precisely. In a mouth it was sweet and tart, and on a face warmly. Gold sunshine extremely beat through branches and foliage of the enormous pines and beeches hanging over a track, being scattered on one thousand gold threads, millions of sparkling sides falling directly under legs. Over the head nightingales were filled in, in air bees buzzed, scurrying about from an edelweiss to a mountain violet and back, somewhere in the distance, below, is hardly heard with the muffled rustle, the mountain falls fell and broke against stones.

All colors were bright, juicy as if just applied on this natural terrestrial cloth with the Creator. The sky was blue and deep with couple of snow-white clouds which hung in the distance which are shaken up in gentle clubs which it was visible as change the forms, stately float on the sky and curl, the sun not simply yellow, namely gold, bright and saturated to gloss and eye pain, the valley of violent green shades stretched by a circle, from dark, almost black in most are far, below, to gently lime shades of foliage which quietly and sadly rocked from hardly notable whiffs of wind from the valley which flew, vanished again as if being amused.

The feeling of rest, a pacification and tranquil pleasure an invisible cloud fell by me, having shrouded me as if in invisible gas. I tried to remember some of the problems about which worried every minute, but to the considerable surprise did not find any. My ego did not torment me any more. My ambitions evaporated. To me it was perfect all the same as I look in what it is dressed and that I am in someone`s strangers, invisible eyes, also as well as in own. To admit, it was very unusual feeling as if you left the house and forgot himself, habitual and there as always. The pleasure of life independent of anything superfluous but only that I am and therefore already this in itself is fine, was in me. It bylamny.

In the distance, on a footpath, two light figures seemed. Two women. As they came nearer, I could make out them slowly. One with light, colors of ripe wheat, the hair falling on shoulders, big gray eyes, is a little nurseries, the swelled up a little features, average height, harmonous and smooth, years of twenty five. The second with hair chestnut, big black moist eyes, the wrong features, a little plump, somewhere under forty. Both dressed in simple, most likely, linen dresses as if from the Middle Ages. Women came nearer, and to the rest I felt still feeling of unclear, almost inaudible pleasure and reliability. What gave it to me, I could not understand.

Women stopped, almost indistinctly, as if not corners of a mouth and eyes as it is accepted at us, ordinary people, especially when we do it intentionally, and from within, sincerely and not affectedly smiling to me towards. Their look was not curious, haughty or otsenivayushch, and such as our parents or very close people look at us, rejoicing to us what we are. And here I remembered, learned who was reminded to me by these women: that, what is younger, was similar to my first teacher, Irina Aleksandrovna, then, in the first class as remembered her, and the second on my great-grandmother whom I never saw, but about whom heard much and who was for some reason presented to me in such form. And then I understood from where I had a feeling of pleasure and confidence.

They did not tell words, but I and so understood that I should follow them. With ease having climbed a mountain track upward, and at all without feeling fatigue as if it not I went, and my legs carried me, we came to be at an entrance to the big house from a stone which for some reason reminded me the estate in Tyrolean style and still something. Later, having already entered inside, I understood that the house reminded me the house of my late grandfather which he built own hands and in which at his life I was only once. Having passed further, I saw that at a wooden table, people sat. It is a lot of people, each of which, whether the person, whether clothes, whether gestures, in a word, something to imperceptible, but such family, reminded me someone, good and kind of my past. All of them quietly smiled to me and were obviously glad to me.

stood On a table something from a food, but that it was, did not interest me, did not interest as all these numerous people who gathered at one table, apparently, in my honor interested. At last one of them, the old man with a white beard and the person without uniform wrinkle, something reminded me my other grandfather though the person he did not resemble it, quietly said: Whether “Your way was easy here, the sonny?“, what I answered it: “My way to you was difficult before appearing with you, I tested a set of sorrows and disappointments. But now, when I here when with you, everything changed“.

Gesture the old man suggested me to sit down together with them and to try their meals. It consisted of simple rye bread which I ate in the childhood, and spring water in jugs, but as it became clear, was more tasty than the most expensive dainties. When water my jug reached a limit, I asked to remember still as I wanted to feel again and for a long time this taste.

“You can descend behind water. Leave the house, turn round the corner and pass ten steps“. I took a clay jug, descended on wooden creaking steps to the yard, turned for the house, took exactly ten steps and stopped as driven, obuyanny and having been horror facing opened to me shaking any imagination to a show.

I stood on the very brink of a huge abyss which a space black hole yawned directly under my legs and fell down so suddenly and so deeply that I could not make out what was there, in the very bottom. Forward, afar, on kilometers and kilometers the primitive valley, with steep slopes, densely overgrown blue spruces and green beeches, steep rocks and serpentines running down in a lilac haze of morning fog swung open improbable beauty. And over the abyss, at arm`s length or slightly - is slightly farther if to become precisely on the break and to stand at attention, from - under hung as dense eyebrows of the old man, a stone the spring transparent as a tear of the baby, water, myriads of small splashes falling on the bottom of valley beat. Looking down, at this supernal, virgin loveliness, to me it was thought how once in youth when I also sat on the edge of already other abyss, hardly overcoming unclear desire to jump down that across this valley now surely there have to pass dinosaurs that the picture received the natural end.

I was captured by strange, double feeling. On the one hand to me it was incredibly terrible, I literally was beside himself for the horror which captured me, standing there, on the very brink of an abyss on thousands of meters steeply rushing in the bottom. For the fear which held down me at me without ceasing, goosebumps ran on a back, pulse, and a forehead, despite cool wind from the valley without restraint beat, became covered by a perspiration. On the other hand everything in me exulted from unclear to mind of pleasure, pleasure of horror, pleasure close and, appear, the inevitable end which has to be the beginning, the death which is so close standing from me - death in death, death from death because I precisely knew that I already died. To me so, the unclear, excluding itself image, there was a wish to live and die, jump at the same time down and to remain there, with my new old friends that I could not understand what in me more - desires to live or desires to die once again. I stood there, on the edge of this abissala, in a face to me the wind smelling of pine needles and an oven smoke from the childhood blew, merezhitsya in the distance, getting into the brain, fragmentary dreams from the past, some vague lines of acquaintances and long ago forgotten faces, echoes of the unknown worlds, scraps of some far words and dreams were heard, and could not understand what I want more - to take a step forward or to take a step back...

Standing on the very brink, I peered afar, and, appear, distinguished in vague outlines of abrupt elephants and rocks on that side something to pain to me familiar and native. That it was, definitely not to tell as all thoughts and feelings in me were not physical and arose not from the outside, and from within, and were some unclear metaphysical knowledge, the memory of heart long ago forgotten, it is unknown from where undertaken.

Along with deafening warm triumph and pleasure of life I also felt incredible, mortal melancholy, universal grief from one reminiscence of the mortal life in which there was there much everything, and there was a continuous emptiness. There were so many cases, but any important, there are a lot of pleasures, but any original, there are a lot of friends, but any present. Everything, all was the unnecessary and unimportant peel which is not demanding any proofs, statements of the return neither for others, nor for itself. I for the first time needed to anybody nothing logically, mathematically and analytically to prove. I just knew, and the knowledge it was in me.

The feeling of pleasure of life and disposal found on me again, poured a warm wave from within, reached finger-tips, responded tender whisper of sudden thought in the head, shrouded in warm and absolutely informidable shroud of life, but not death, and peretvoritsya in thirst on a language tip. I became extremely thirsty again. Lifted a jug which still held in the left hand, convulsively squeezing, rose closer, on the end of an abyss, moved very much forward and stretched for pure as a tear of the baby, a spring stream …