Deep down, I have a feeling that I will have everything … Go outside. Smile at the sun. Fuck everyone and enjoy this fucking amazing life. Story.
Chapter 1 "Depth"
- Normally?
- Yes.
It was usually whiskey. Whiskey until I began to forget myself, but I was still thinking normally. This is my bar. I have been going to it for a long time. I know people, morals. The menu hasn't changed for a long time …
Nice bar …
The freshness of the city at night brought me to my senses. Thoughts became a little clearer. I wandered … Lights. Blind me. Deafens the roar of engines. Feelings heightened incredibly. But the picture is blurry, indistinct. The feeling that you are in another universe, you are a stranger here. Nobody sees you, but you see them all. But it is not important. Does not matter. Because you no longer live here, you don’t go here, you don’t breathe here. This is not your air, not your clothes. That's not you. They are not all of them. The sky … how clean. How wonderful. White stars, not drowned out by city lights, are visible on the dark blue canvas. Small, huge hearts burn with billions of watts. They all burn! Burn everyone! All living things around! The unbearable heat of love! The heat of life … Burns, burning you from the inside …
And then everything sank into my crazy universe. Time stopped and I fell into my subconscious. I failed to wander through those corridors with gloomy dim light, flashing mercury lamps and showing their once white and whole, and now dirty blackened and broken tiles, carefully laid by nature at birth.
Chapter 2 "Space"
Sitting in my car, I smoked a cigarette and watched the sunset. Relaxed, in an armchair, I watched as the sun, already tired after a working day, plunged into the ocean, illuminating the sky with shades of red and it, refracting them, lit up with soft pastel tones. The wind played with hair. I heard the sound of waves crashing against the breakwaters, I heard the water whispering with me, then persistently proving something, swooping on the sand, then with a rustle going back, then again to return, roll pebbles from place to place and sharpen larger stones with its tenacity scattered along the coast. A lonely night is coming. The city is shrouded in its darkness. It is illuminated by its lights. How many times I am alone with her. I'll finish my cigarette soon. I'll drink some liquor. I’ll start the engine and break off in search of some drunk or drug addiction to forget my loneliness, and then hate myself for the fact that my life does not mean anything, for the fact that I don’t give a damn about anything for a long time. Hate that I sent my woman to hell because I am a callous egoist and a bastard … Or just fall asleep in the car. In a lonely car parked on the beach, running away with me from everything that has become so fed up over the years. Fall asleep in the night melancholy, embracing not HER beautiful body, but some pillow soaked in women's juices and perfumes. In a dream I will see my life, full of some kind of sticky mental mud and unfulfilled dreams, but not devoid of charm and happy moments …
To wake up tomorrow, not remembering where you were, with a sore head, to see an unfamiliar woman nearby, get a cigarette, light a cigarette, smile a little and think that this whole life is going to hell, that it no longer has that charm, that intrigue and romanticism, which was so loved by the great poets and writers. Slowly crawl out of bed, find clothes and pull on your pants, trip over something, waking the woman up. Lying about the fact that you have to go to work, that you are already late or come up with something original on the go, so as not to seem like a simpleton. And this woman, understanding everything, will sigh and for the hundredth time, making sure, she will think to herself that there is no real love and that her maternal instinct will never be realized and, holding back tears, leads to the door and kisses goodbye, hoping to throw up the last sight…
All day, communicating with someone and solving minor issues, the memory will not be mocked, busy with other things, but as soon as the sun begins to sink over the horizon and the first shadows fall on this damn city, it will remind of itself, remind of the painful that torments. Will make the wounds never heal. I know this is necessary, because if things are different, the heart will simply die, and I will die along with it.
Chapter 3 "Remembrance"
- Do you remember how we swam in the ocean under the rays of the setting sun, and then drank whiskey, warming ourselves with it and each other's bodies? Do you remember that fine, fine sand? Do you remember the color of that sky? Do you remember the silence and majesty of the ocean? Do you remember our conversations about the future? Our beautiful dreams? They were like that because we loved each other and everything we did together was the same. It was lovely. Like that evening … The happiest evening.
The only one that I have lived. And then everything went to hell. I still did not understand what was the reason, whether it was my inattention, or the fear of ruining everything, or something else. Probably then we reached the highest pleasure, there was nothing further … To fly off, fall like a stone, crash soft-boiled, so that later, lying smeared on the asphalt, to smoke and think that my damn life had at least some meaning, had a spot of bright color that flew off the brush of the Great Creator. And you stayed there. Remained in heaven. For eternity, even a million years mean nothing, what to say about several tens.
I held her hand.
- Do you want me to tell you something?
- Yes. Of course.
- I once had a period when I was very bad. I sat at home all day. She didn't want to see anyone, much less hear. Every day I swore, swore with everyone: with my parents, with friends, with acquaintances … I often had tantrums, gratuitous tears … I just wanted to be alone, and they wanted to be near. But not you … You know, I couldn't go on like this anymore. I had only one way out. And I went to the bridge … Railway bridge … I firmly decided to end my life. Kill her. I could not do otherwise! There was no other way out! And so I stood with my elbows on the handrail and waited for the train. Anyone, it doesn't matter …
She fell silent. Her breathing was audible. Lowering her eyes, covering them with her long eyelashes, she pressed against me. So we stood together for a couple of minutes.
- What happened next?
- Then I saw a train. I was ready. Ready to die … I was about to jump when the phone rang. And you know, it was you.
Chapter 4 "Exhale"
A sweet smile appeared on her face, creating equally cute dimples on her cheeks. The brown eyes laughed, now hiding behind long eyelashes, now showing an enchanting shine. Such brilliance is rarely seen. It is in people with a pure soul, hope or childish joy, the realization that life is beautiful. It comes with the ability to see only positive things in the world around you, or it just comes after good sex. In any case, he was very good for her.
- Nothing, nothing, drink. You need it now.
Indeed, the coffee was very helpful. After a pause, she continued:
- You know, I think that we should at least try to live this life differently from everyone else. After all, you can always get on the everyday tracks of the daily freight train. What could be easier? How about going out on the track, raising your hand and surrendering to fate, savoring the heady taste of freedom and being in a constantly inviting unknown. What happened to this?
- Do you know a lot of such people? All of today's adults were once also rebel dreamers. They also wanted to dance.
- Yes, you are right. This is a conflict. Conflict between a wild beast and a domestic cat. She lives well in warmth and comfort. Cares nothing. Out of boredom, she begins to get fat, dull, naughty. The wild beast has no time for this, it has a different life. Everyone chooses for himself. And there is no right choice here, no wrong. And I don't like the middle. Live between salty and sweet, black and white. To live between wealth and poverty … Sorry … You yourself know that everything is known in comparison. You will never know how high you flew until you fall. This truth is as old as the world.
- Listen, who are you?
- Me?.. Stupid … I am your life. I'm yours.
One … How wonderful. How sad and hopeless this word sounds. All are paired. Even the boots. And I'm alone. Boredom. Bad luck. I … What happened? I'll turn on some song, yellow or orange. Or maybe gray or black. Let’s set my mood. I will go out into the street with the thought: "How I hate everyone." But not with that real hatred, but rather protection from everyone, realizing in my soul that life is still beautiful. But I hide this thought. I hide it so deep that no one knows about it. I hide it in order to be free from relationships, from pain, from misunderstanding.
Today is a nice sunny day. Dark glasses hide my eyes from the sun and people around me. Close my eyes, my soul. They hide my past from strangers. I wanted to tell the story of my life, but it turned out to be some kind of delusional set of thoughts, incoherent and confused with each other. A new day begins. A new opportunity to get better. How many more will there be? Or maybe this last one?.. Despite the fact that everything is not going the way I wanted, I do not despair. Deep down, I have a feeling that I will have everything …
Get outside. Smile at the sun. Fuck everyone and enjoy this fucking amazing life.
Photo: notsogoodphotography flickr.com/notsogoodphotography
