Book: Confessions of an "inferior" person

Now, sin has stained my soul in the most natural way from the cradle; as I was growing up, he not only disappeared from my soul, but, on the contrary, has grown, has eaten the soul through and through, and although I compared their night of torment with the pangs of hell, sin became dearer to me, closer to flesh and blood; the pain he caused the soul, was a sign that my sinful soul is alive; I began to see the pain as a gentle whisper.

People who feel the fear of their own kind, oddly enough, feel the need to personally see the monsters - this is required by their psychology, nervous organization; the more a person has fear, the more he wants untamed passions.

I used to think that we are alike as two drops of water. I mean, of course, the days when I hung with him in dive bars, drinking cheap sake. In fact, being near, we were very much like the two dogs of the same breed, and, again like dogs, roamed the snowy streets.

I didn't want to see anybody, I ran to the roof, threw himself on his back, fixed his gaze at the rainy night sky. Possessed not anger, not disgust, not longing even, and terrible, unspeakable fear is worse than the one in the cemetery evoke thoughts of ghosts; I was overcome terror resembled the reckless thrill of the ancestors, when in front of their eyes under the cryptomerias temple appeared Shinto deity in white.

"Crime and punishment" Dostoevsky. In the subconscious of lightning emerged the title of the novel. What if Mr. Dostoevsky put these words in a synonymic series, and in the antonymy? This is completely different concepts, they are incompatible as fire and ice. Not only Dostoyevsky understood these words as antonyms...

But as I was oppressed with some misconceptions, as I languished because of them! For example: in the Cup remain half-eaten three grains of rice, and so there's a billion people - that means throwing away bags of rice! Or again: if each person saved a day for paper handkerchief - no matter how much preserved wood! This "scientific statistics" so frightened me that, leaving a grain of rice or vyskakovaci in a paper handkerchief, every time I felt a great criminal, in vain transforms the mountain rice and wood.

He sees me as just a pathetic suicide bomber, who failed to die, so he sees me as a nerd, unaware of shame, I in his eyes - a living corpse, dying of shame, the Ghost is an idiot?!

Want to die. I want to die. Cut way back. Now whatever you do, no matter how you try in vain, only bigger shame would be hell to pay. Not to Cycling. Not to admire the waterfall "Young leaves". Ahead only shame and scorn, filth Yes filth - torture all the more painful... How I want to die! This is the only way. We must die; to live - only to continue to sow the seeds of sin...

The main thing - to make people laugh, and then they particularly struck my stay beyond what they call "life"; in any case, I should not become a thorn in their eyes; I am nothing, I am the air, the sky.

People constantly plunged me into panic, I have already believed, that did not take place as people and all this translates into the fact that I hid my anguish in the recesses of the soul, heavily disguised melancholy, nervousness, sakalavas in the clothes of naive optimism; increasingly improved as the eccentric comedian.

I am convinced that human life is filled with many pure, happy, serene examples of insincerity, truly splendid of its kind - people deceiving one another without (strangely enough) any pangs of conscience, people who don't seem to even know that they are deceiving each other.

The same woman in the morning and in the evening - totally different people, they have nothing in common as if they live in completely different worlds.

People without a penny in my pocket easily understand each other.

If this is our world compared with the sea, as through the water you can see the fantastic wavering glare, as well through the laughter lurks hidden deep into adult life.