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llection of motivational short stories

      © Sarazhin S., 2017

      © «Napisano perom», 2017

      Introduction

To the reader

      It is happening, and your heart is beating inside of your mother's womb. At the same time the inexorable countdown to your end has already begun. Everybody has their own lifespan.

      Some timepieces are covered with magnificent ornaments of gold, silver and precious stones, and some are simple and unpretentious, but they all bring you closer to your death.

      The hidden mechanisms of self-destruction tick away inexorably. Every precious drop of your life drips away into the ocean of time. Every drop represents a moment of your life; every drop represents the amount of time you have left, like a poison.

      So, from being a nice cute child, you grow up to become an independent human being. In the beginning, you find everything exciting, but with each passing drop of your precious time you become an adult. This disease relentlessly undermines you. At first, it shows no signs, but then you notice the first wrinkle. The symptoms are relentless. This disease is called old age. This is the only illness that depends on your lifespan in hours, minutes and seconds, and it batters away at you day and night. Every birthday and anniversary brings you closer to the inevitable.

      But you feel full of energy, powerful and in control, because in the end you are a human being, and you are responsible for everything around you, and you create it only for yourself.

      Listen to your body clock. This is not the sound of your heartbeat. It's a different sound. It's the sound of your personal time bomb. Feel the movement of the cogs and springs, as this perfect mechanism is inside of you, and it defines who you are.

      Take some time, and slow down the pace of the rat race. You do not need to be afraid of time. You do not depend on the movement of the cogs and springs, you do not depend on the program of self-destruction. You are your own god, and you can pause the heartbeat of this mechanism inside your body itself. Firstly, slow down the pace of your life, enjoy the miraculous changes in your body, and then throw the broken mechanism away, because you think that you are immortal. You have no control over the metered steps leading you into oblivion. You have no control over when you look in the mirror and no longer recognize the unfamiliar person on the other side.

      Try to remember that you are not free from restrictions, especially restrictions on the time that you have left. The date of your death has already been set, you've done it yourself and you move towards it deliberately with a smile on your face, trying not to think about the great void that lies beyond. A natural fear, a fear of death, lives within you. A program created by your ancestors, who died according to plan, makes you follow after them, feeling like you are just like everybody else.

      Get out of that mindset! Get out of this system of belief and look back on those who remain in the system. Look them in the eye. They still have that fear that you have stepped over, after throwing away the broken mechanism designed for just one life. The system consisting of the cogs and springs of society which has forged the stereotypes.

      Enough. Listen to me, enough is enough. Enough of self deception. You are not a self-destructing time bomb. You are free. Just remember that, and when you do remember, listen… What do you hear? This is the state of total freedom and silence in the void. A feeling that God exists inside of you and for you, out of time and space.

      The Atlas holding up the sky…

      Spring is a great time! All of nature wakes up, and even the sparrows chirp in different voice. The first grasses, bravely rise up out from the black soil, saturated by the melting snow. I am standing in the midst of all this beauty, deeply breathing in the air. People pass me by, looking at me puzzled after seeing my happy wide smile, happy and a little bewildered by the splendor that I see all around me. They immediately avert their eyes and walk on faster, only because I am standing in the middle of the sidewalk, stopped by a sudden sense of life going on around me.

      Suddenly, I pay attention to a man standing there, just like me, with a sheepish smile on his face, taking in the world around us. Our eyes met and we and understood each other without saying a word. We smiled at each other.

      He was a man of strong physique, you could even say huge. His powerful shoulders were almost bursting through the seams of his lightweight jacket, showing off every movement of his muscles. The man drew a space around him with a sweeping gesture of his hand, as if to ask my confirmation that the long-awaited spring had arrived. I nodded to him in agreement and a smile lit up his dazzling strong face. He came over to me and offered to shake my hand.

      "Atlas," he said in a deep bass voice.

      Automatically I shook his hand and as soon as I did so I made a hissing noise like a punctured tire. The man's hand felt like it was made from railway tracks.

      "Sorry I didn't get that," I said, through the hissing sound, shaking my hand around.

      "That's my name," repeated the man, anxiously watching my hand flicking around in front of his nose.

      "My apologies!" He said. "I always forget that my grip is overpowering! My name is Atlas."

      "My name is Slava," I said, holding out my hand to this athlete, but thinking of the consequences, I immediately withdrew it.

      The man laughed, and for a moment it seemed to me that his laughter, resembled something similar to the sound of falling rocks and a summer thunder storm, reflected against the blue spring sky as it echoed over us, covering us with a wave of pure energy.

      "You would not happen to have a cigarette?" Asked Atlas, closely watching carefully every person in the river of people flowing past us on both sides.

      "Sorry… I don't smoke," I said, and I wanted to add: "And I advise you not to either," but looking at his powerful figure, I remained cowardly silent.

      Atlas smiled knowingly and said: "It all depends on how you feel about it! If you inhale the pure mountain air and can still be sure that it is dangerous for your health, believe me, you will not last long."

      Atlas laughed thunderously again, and once again I caught the strange effect. His laughter surrounded me, sparkling with bright lightning and melting into space.

      "Instead, I'm enjoying every day," continued Atlas. "It has already been several thousand years. Every day is different to the one before. Every day offers hundreds of different opportunities, and I try to take every one of them!"

      Noting the change in the expression on my face, Atlas smiled understandingly, and clapped me on the shoulder in a friendly way that left my head buzzing. After that he turned round one hundred and eighty degrees, and confidently strode off down the road.

      I couldn't allow myself to miss out on the chance to talk with the real Atlas, because these days I didn't believe in accidental encounters. Having caught up with Atlas, I adjusted to his rapid confident stride, especially as he was heading in the same direction as I was.

      "So you are Atlas?" I asked, getting used to the pace of his walk.

      "Yes! I am Atlas," he replied nonchalantly. "Like the Atlas of legend, walking the streets every day, enjoying life."

      "So, who is holding up the sky?" I asked, straining to remember the image of a huge man holding up the starry sky.

      "My brother is doing that job at the moment," said Atlas.

      I walked a little behind him, and looked at his un-doubtfully powerful body, but it still didn't look enough for such a massive mission (supporting the vault of heaven with all the satellites, aircraft, space debris, and the clouds).

      As if sensing what I thinking Atlas stopped abruptly and turned to me. I nearly bumped into him with my nose.

      "Listen, Slava," he said, looking me straight in the eye. "Surely you're thinking that no amount of muscle could hold up the sky? There is not a man on earth strong enough to hold such a weight. Why do you think I told you about the power of persuasion? Atlas holds the vault of heaven on his shoulders because of the power of his belief that he is able to so. And

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