Insanity #08 19 января 2001

Самиздат

Unusual - Literary Page for news of the day.

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     eї ° √ ¤ ¤ √ ∙ ° ўeE ... The Dream ... eї ° √ ¤ ¤ √ ∙ ° ўe
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    $% DEUS ^ tmr, 2000



    Year 2000. How many different and conflicting sentiments, he
prevnosit in life. In what kind of life, and whose, you ask?? A
in fact, is there a difference?


    It was just a dream. Sleep, which in life we ​​see many
hundreds and thousands. It was just an illusion generated by 
the nervous system is deeply sick man. A man who can not,

or just do not want to define themselves in this evil, and this
failed the world.

                              ...


    For the past 36 hours without sleep Grim watching myself 
from outside. He did not understand what is happening all 
around - just pointless vanity. But he believed, believed in 
what was once his spoke as a child. He remembered the words 
mother, which she always reminded him: the theater is the art 
of the gods, it is impossible doing something just like that. 
In all must be the soul and meaning. 


    Deep sense of harmony and beauty. If you're not sure, then
better not think about it and forget it, said his mother. But 
he did not forgotten, and indeed, he stole from mother to read 
it and took out everything I could find about the art of the 
gods of his dream. Moody yet then decided for himself that he 
is willing to give his life only for the fact that for a while 
to look at the present stage in the This theater ...



    He did not feel the time, he did not see anything except 
crash their hopes and expectations. Surly did not even realize 
how much big mistake he made once in my childhood.



    Running off into the distance of the road were replaced by 
sophisticated tunnels, it is indescribable whirlpools of plasma 
and moving energy. Around was uncomfortable, but pretty 
comfortable and ... scary. Surly covered insane fear. He did 
not chustvoval own body, he could not move his hands. His legs

vrastali into the ground and he chustvoval hot bowels of the 
earth. He Tears flowed, simply because he could not omit the 
eyelids. His had never seen, and felt.



    For him, now there was no difference how he feels: color,
smell, or sound. It was just a feeling. Around it circled
geometric figures and gloomy for the first time in his life felt
how complex and unique images familiar to him
square, circle and triangle ...


    He was seized by a fever, he intuitively understood that 
reached the center land. And suddenly he found himself in the 
vast cosmos. He felt insanely cold, but he chustvoval that in 
his veins is still something boils. Surly with breakneck speed 
pulled into the unknown. Flew past the planets, moons, stars, 
whole galaxies. Millions and billions of tiny dots merge into a 
stream of pure information and were in a surly.



    He was struck by the beauty and impossibility of
what is happening. He understood that it had long been dead, 
but he knew that this was the birth of something new and as yet

incomprehensible to him. The whole area around it became morose
like himself, he filled a still so young and
untouched world of their own illusions and dreams. Whether it 
was Reality or just a vision, a surly not interested. Now

he knew the truth. He understood much, and he smiled to 
himself. His smile reflected in the billions of copies of its 
fractal in time and took with them the creation of the world. 
He became a god. 


    Gloomy started, opened his eyes and at first did not 
understand where he is located. However, memory reminded him of 
his dream - the theater. Yes, He was in the theater, in the 
real theater, with the that on there is a real scene. Returned 
to him hearing and heard the sullen someone systematic and 
continuous murmur. 


    He looked around but could not identify the source of the 
whisper. Around him were the same as he, no different people.

He asked - what is it, who is whispering? Sullen pointed forward
scene, a small building but for some reason in the form of 
unopened grave. - It's Maxim unbeliever. The most professional

prompter-baydist in this theater. someone said. - Today, 
advocates rather complex actor - Vsevolod Random, he 
self-taught actor, and throws, it happens, all sorts of feints, 
but played from the heart! - continued the same voice.



    Just now noticed a grim scene of the actor.
Wrapped in a camouflage body throbbed in convulsions and 
contrary script and prompter, vopilo: "Yes you do suck! I just 
know What is constructive chaos !!!".



    Surly neighbor asked why so few people? - No
understand the contemporary avant-garde and the classics have 
long been forgotten. Here I came only because I work as a 
watchman at this theater. Say what you like and sit until the 
end. Look over there, the people of the last leaves, - said the 
man did a hand pass back. 


    Surly looked around and saw that the audience hastily 
fleeing their place in the hall, throwing useless utilities 
that buy in the near Pavilion videotapes and go home.



    - Understand ... - The voice said. -Theatres on the country
decay, actors and directors go to the more lucrative
movie ... At best, the best actors and director will organize
New, modern, theatrical shows, studios, and sold for
a lot of money on the western scene ...


                              ...


    Moody newly opened his eyes. He did not know why, but he 
has already clearly felt himself to be God. He knew that what he

seen - just a dream, and in the labyrinths of time, he - the 
prisoner future, the punishment of his memories of the chaos 
that was involuntarily victim of an oppressive reality ...



                             *



                                    Dedicated to all sceners ...



          Sketches of the parallel worlds spektrumizma.

                   Sketch One: Hike.



    $% Surv! V0r, 2000



    Tape federal highway went far beyond the horizon.
The clouds, like St. Petersburg's blue, inspired by the anguish 
in the noonday heat. August heat last ready to face the 
oncoming autumn - before the storm, it should be.



    At the edge of the curb toward the Baltic winds sure step
moving people. He did not stop. His purposeful
opinion outlined the only one he knows the point approximation
which make up the meaning of an imminent hike.


    Step, another ... an endless stream of cars and climb
road dust is carried away into the distance. That seemed to 
regular road pointer. Blue plate with a reflector reads: "1161

kilometer ...".


    - Yes, only some few hours and I go there! -
smiling man said to himself.


    He paused for a moment, took out a bottle of soda
mineral water to quench their thirst arose.


    - Well, it is necessary to step ... It's all Bayda!


    And he went after the show through the clouds the sun. On
his shoulder hung a conventional sports bag in his hand a box 
with inscription 'Firebird. Elite '...



    Passed another mile road Samara -
St. Petersburg.


                             *