Autumn is quiet, pampered. Early morning. Anticipation. Deceptive. The past are unaccustomed. Absolutely different perception. Occasionally a predator is eager to take what previously belonged, after 5, 7, 9 switching to childish harmlessness vulnerable. Fear with cold. Chains, a whip stopped the hanging one. Beats in rage from the restrictions of other weak. Sunny. Windless. Smells of rain in autumn. Sleepy, condensed, stretchy. A star among the snow-white linen. Plans for movement. birds, smells, movements in the given. Slowly, with a little aggression, but with fresh air. The day off is started. French ones tickle with melodies. The text of the servants, gossip, suggesting that their solitude among the tables is not disheveled.
Silence. Streams of cold, hungry, bite in, awakening, cutting Morpheus’ webs. There are similar, similar, having a quiet breakfast. By themselves, fascinating, slightly sloppy, gentle smiles from observations, discharges run along the wires, nourishing. Not of this world, or something, having pecked, they fell.
And at the next table they write. Gluing letter to letter. Fingers knock out a tap dance, click. The patterns of the big one on the screen are woven intricately lace, with hints of gray. Remembering that no one ever sincerely loves little men with a feather, by analogy with tassels, they will not shake hands until they themselves rise from the breath of fresh. Funny. Allow themselves criticism, rude with disdain. Until millions of other spoiled people bend the knee, With applause. Those past ones, as previously described more than once by others, will change, releasing thousands of words about their immense devotion, rattling hollow. Suddenly remembering the connections. Walking your character vulnerable. So early, so early, everyone sleeps, shuddering. French silence reigns in the café in autumn. He indulges. Waves of thoughts, one after another, rolled in, splashing. Espresso is a legal drug that bites into the blood vessels, sharpening perception, smiling brighter, immersing one’s own vessels in a state of rest, letting windy content pass by, absorbing the energy of a comfortable night, letting go for a while of care.
“I slammed it shut. What’s wrong with you? A little calmer? Or does it seem so? Does the storm subside a little or does it seem again? Waves of words roll in. Write if it’s cold. And I fly further, maybe my past life affects me – as a migratory bird. A little bit of emotions, upsets, guilt. Playing with the past in messengers. Tickets are bought. Alone again, well, with you through thousands. Silence, I begin to love its shades. Do not strain the superfluous with their complexes. Gradually looking, plunging deeper behind the scenes, into others who smell of strength, analyzing more and more, I find hundreds of similarities in their habits, childhood fears, being in a state of resentment, immuring themselves in closets. They smelled of grayness with suspicion, the chaotic nature of reckless thoughts, subject exclusively to their own logic. Interpreting what is happening, they use only gray-black ones. I’m a little tired of dancing in someone else’s dance. I want your tenderness. Snuggle deep, deep into the embrace, in appearance, but not strong at all. Kissing, longing, with hungry lips, the bristles of the weekend of permissiveness.”
The ball is in his own worries. Launching thousands of recognized professors, endowed with paper diplomas, with monograms, climbing, sorting out seeds, billions of theories, in an attempt to get to earthly sustenances. Following the rules, setting the bar of prosperity for everyone’s respect. Out of thousands, one or two will survive, will be of interest to the managers of billions, will allow them to get another diploma. By directing the worthy to the next increase in golden candy wrappers, accelerating bloodthirsty progress, unquestioningly leading to extinction, taking into account history – no chance of survival. Destroying an extraordinary, favorably different from the rest in the galaxy, a ball of magical beauty. Some are funny. Like moles, they buy Swiss bunkers in a selfish desire – just to keep their own. Lonely and ill-mannered sociopaths huddle in fear. Having given his soul to animal hunger, to the whims of others, to the worship of nakedness to those who reign. They give priority to accelerating progress in calculations, reducing previously created professions, throwing the next millions into the streets, natural polite extermination, not caring about their training, providing a minimum income for survival, giving rise to the hatred of cold hunger. To the facts. Nobel Prize. “One of the geniuses of quantum entanglement called it a passion at a distance. But the most mysterious and inexplicable phenomenon of this amazing microcosm is precisely the phenomenon of quantum entanglement. This is when two elementary particles that have the same origin or have previously tied themselves in knots of love, turn out to be not only connected to each other (in a completely inexplicable way), but also interdependent. Even if there are hundreds and thousands of kilometers between them. So if you know the state of one particle, you can predict the state of another with absolute certainty.” Simply put, confusing, stupid particles can seem to “communicate” with each other and influence each other, giving away much-needed energy in the moment in the depression of another loved one. Stopping in an instant the chaotic whirlpool of frantically rushing thoughts, depression, panic attacks, fear of uncontrolled trains – thoughts as if abandoned by train drivers. In the future, getting rid of the cynical chemistry of pharma, psycho-rights, often with an absolute lack of desire to cure. The goal is exclusively for planting.
