Episode.

In the depths of my soul, 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"

- As usual? - Yes.

It was usually whiskey. Whiskey until I started to forget myself, but still I could think normally. This is my bar. I have been going to it for a long time. I know people, manners. The menu has not 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. They blind me. Deafens the roar of engines. Feelings intensified incredibly. But the picture is blurred, fuzzy. 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 walk here, you don't breathe here. It's not your air, it's not your clothes. That's not you. It's not all of them. The sky... How clear. What a beautiful thing. White stars, not drowned out by the lights of the city, are visible on a dark blue canvas. Small, huge hearts burn with billions of watts. Burn everything! Burn everyone! All living things around! The unbearable heat of love! The heat of life… It burns, burning you from the inside…

And then everything sank in my delusional Universe. Time stopped and I fell into my subconscious. I failed to wander through those corridors with a gloomy dim light, blinking mercury lamps and showing their once white and whole, but 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 the sun, already tired after a working day, plunge into the ocean, highlighting the sky with shades of red and, refracting them, lit up with soft pastel tones. The wind played with hair. I heard the sound of the waves crashing against the breakwaters, I heard the water whispering to me, now insistently proving something, bumping into the sand, then going back with a rustling, only to return again later, roll the pebbles from place to place and sharpen larger stones with their perseverance scattered along the coast. The lonely night is coming. The city is shrouded in darkness. He is illuminated by her lights. Once again, I'm alone with her. I'll finish my cigarette soon. I'll drink liquor. I’ll start the engine and break loose in search of some kind of drunken or drugged frenzy to forget my loneliness, and then hate myself for the fact that my life means nothing, for the fact that I don’t give a damn about everything for a long time. To hate that I sent my woman to hell because I am a callous selfish and bastard... Or just fall asleep in the car. In a lonely car, standing on the beach, running away with me from everything that has been so sick and tired for many years. Fall asleep in the night longing, hugging not HER beautiful body, but some kind of pillow soaked in female juices and perfumes. In a dream, I will see my life, full of some kind of sticky mental dirt and unfulfilled dreams, but not without charm and happy moments...

Wake up tomorrow, not remembering where I was, with a sore head, see an unfamiliar woman nearby, get a cigarette, smoke, smile a little and think about the fact that this whole life is going to hell, that it no longer has that charm, that intrigue and romanticism that great poets and writers loved so much. Slowly crawl out of bed, find clothes and while pulling up your pants, trip over something, waking up the woman. Lie about having 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, having made sure, she will think to herself that there is no true love and that her maternal instinct will never be realized and, holding back tears, leads her to the door and kisses goodbye, hoping to throw up the last a glance…

All day long, communicating with someone and solving minor issues, the memory will not scoff, busy with other things, but as soon as the sun begins to sink below the horizon and the first shadows fall on this damn city, it will remind you of to yourself, remind you of the painful thing that torments. Make the wounds never heal. I know that this is necessary, because if it is otherwise, then the heart will simply die, and I will die 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? 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 wonderful. Like that evening... The happiest evening.

The only one that I have lived. And then everything went to hell. I did not understand what was the reason, either my inattention, or the fear of spoiling everything, or something else. Probably then we reached the highest pleasure, there was nothing further... Fly off, fall like a stone, break soft-boiled, so that later, lying smeared on the pavement, smoke and think that my damn life had at least some meaning, had a spot of bright color, flown from the brush of the Great Creator. And you stayed there. Stayed in heaven. For eternity, even a million years mean nothing, what to speak of a few tens.

I held her hand.

Do you want me to tell you something? - Yes. Certainly. - I once had a period when I was very ill. I've been at home all day. I didn't want to see or hear anyone. Every day I cursed, cursed with everyone: with my parents, with friends, with acquaintances... I often had tantrums, causeless tears... I just wanted to be alone, and they wanted to be around. But not you... You know, I couldn't go on like this anymore. I only had one way out. And I went to the bridge... Railway bridge... I firmly decided to end my life. Kill her. I couldn't help it! There was no other choice! And so I stood, leaning on the railing, and waiting for the train. Anyone, it doesn't matter...

She fell silent. Her breathing was heard. Lowering her eyes, closing them with her long eyelashes, she clung to 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 cute smile appeared on her face, creating equally cute dimples on her cheeks. Brown eyes laughed, now hiding behind long eyelashes, now showing a bewitching brilliance. It's rare to see such brilliance. People with a pure soul, hope or childish joy, the realization that life is beautiful have it. It comes with the ability to see only the positive in the world around you, or just comes after good sex. In any case, it suited her very well.

- Nothing, nothing, drink. You need it now.

Indeed, coffee was very welcome. After a short pause, she continued:

- You know, I think that we should at least try to live this life differently from everyone else. In the end, you can always get on the everyday rails of the daily freight train. What could be easier? And how about getting on the track, raising your hand and surrendering to fate, tasting the intoxicating taste of freedom and being in the constantly alluring uncertainty. What happened to it?

- And how many people do you know? All grown-ups today were once dreamers-rebels too. They also wanted to dance.

- Yes, you're right. This is conflict. Conflict between a wild animal and a domestic cat. She lives well in warmth and comfort. Nothing cares. From boredom, she begins to get fat, dull, act up. The wild animal has no time for this, it has a different life. Everyone chooses for himself. And there is no right choice here, no wrong choice. 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 have flown 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 dreary and hopeless that word sounds. All in pair. Even boots. And I'm alone. Boredom. Bad luck. I... what happened? I will turn on some song, yellow or orange. Maybe gray or black. Let's get in the mood. I will go out into the street with the thought: “How I hate everyone.” But not with that real hatred, but rather with protection from everyone, realizing in the soul that life is still beautiful. But I hide this thought. Hiding so deep that no one knows about it. I hide 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 from the people around me. Close my eyes, close my soul. Close my past from strangers. I wanted to tell the story of my life, but it turned out to be some crazy set of thoughts, incoherent and confused with each other. A new day begins. A new opportunity to be 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...

Go outside. Smile at the sun. Fuck everyone and enjoy this fucking amazing life.

Photo: notsogoodphotography flickr.com/notsogoodphotography

Author: Anton Shakal

Belarusian men's magazine MENSBY. COM