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True Sadness. Denis Nushtaev
Читать онлайн.Название True Sadness
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9785005653550
Автор произведения Denis Nushtaev
Жанр Современная русская литература
Издательство Издательские решения
– Sorry, I was thinking about your words on violence. Can you repeat?
– I said I would definitely go abroad. What were you thinking about?
– If you went abroad, you would definitely meet three-eyed dogs and you would be dressed as an amazon-warrior but in a spacesuit.
– Oh no. By the way, my father liked such fantasies. As did Alan.
After Alan’s act, I fell in love with Ursula: as if the yet unknown locks opened for me. Later, analyzing my first infatuation, I understood that it was this dialogue which made me fall in love with her. So much warmth cannot fit into a complex fetish or bright vanity. Warmth likes simplicity, ignorance and innocence. Warmth doesn’t like impressions, and light wind of love, making you worship human, is felt at the moment when you want to change yourself and reality around least of all – at the moments of acceptance. Or love pierces through your skin and makes you accept, or acceptance lets love enter – in any case, this light feeling of infatuation is present constantly and is reflected in the surrounding objects not with bright impressions but with the meaning of these very things. Such a dialogue can transfer you into your childhood room, where for the first time in your life you could not fall asleep because you became obsessed with a thought of a difference between a woman’s body and your own and of an existence of a large number of various types of women, which hide a desire unknown to you. And to perceive this unknown phenomenon, you, surprisingly, don’t start to study it but begin to think about the diversity of the Universe and think how you can become a whole world and to discover its mysteries. And our desires don’t grow older with us but always stay in their mysterious indefinity, and so, following her thought I understood that the area of human communication is a much darker place than a night forest, and to orientate there we are helped only by our experience of staying in this place, which has no gravity, and the space there is constantly being distorted, confusing a habitual perception of an already studied area of a stranger’s soul, and in search of stable landmarks we ourselves become more stable and empathic, noticing a live meaning in other people’s questions and judgements. Tears on Ursula’s face have already dried out and it now had an excited impression. Later I thought about my fantasy of Ursula. If I slice and dice everything, it will become obvious that a fantasy of Ursula The Amazon is maximally further from Ursula The Real but it describes her much better. As if in this fantasy one can recognize the very Ursula, her personality type. And vice versa, let’s try this:
“Ursula – female. Height – 1 m 70 cm. Likes tangerines. This woman has a balanced character. Quite educated, successfully graduated from the University”.
I have always thought that I knew Ursula well but now I definitely recollected a new person and understood that all this time I had known Ursula-Alan, and she, following her female nature, did not overshadow his originality where he was Alan The Rock for everybody. This is the element that Ursula The Real consists of for me, but Ursula The Amazon has a totally different content – exactly the one that belongs to Ursula The Real, who I can see now with a temple full of life and ambition. My fantasy of Ursula might be only my fantasy, but what is so important in her that helps me to acquire in my perception a more material Ursula and to reveal for myself her worldview?
I can only say that this fantasy made me fall in love with Ursula. I confessed in my feeling some months after what had happened, when we were sitting on the main keeper of Hoici’s history – the old and now totally tattered red couch on the roof of my house in the twilight, which in the childhood allowed creatures from another reality into my soul and took my sleep away, in return enriching my imagination with novel sensations, which, together with my confession, are now starting to burst into from the depth of my childhood yearnings towards the new shining of my dream. It is good that this couch was becoming more tattered, otherwise I would become scared that nothing is changing in this world and there is no use for me to count on new success – it might overlive me but it will definitely die one day, having told its story of “true sadness”. I fell in love long before this event but this feeling was hidden from my own mind with the layers unknown to me.
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