Book: A word that is not

We lost sky in the hustle and bustle in the run, in business.

In response to widespread your selfishness, I want to become nothing. Just. Out of spite.

Close to the eye. And then - nothing to see. And ears shut. And do not listen to any monologue.

And let him scream until the sorrow all suckers, all fools, grab the corkscrew, drink tea and run away at the hands.

Tear of the moon transparent ray - sew and darn common bed.

But OK, if we have no rough and shaky deception: just the two of us surrounded by vast, like the sky, the ocean.

The emptiness of the heart is only a moment of knowledge that the sun is perfect, and that soon, this wonderful blue world drops you on the shoulders.

And the sky is flying to us in the fires and the wounds, heavy, wide, night, and in the middle of the great ocean
just the two of us.

Here's all you, all about you, it is a collection of memory and words.

Everyone wants to be different, to stand out in the crowd, in the achievements, at least in fantasy. Every man secretly wants to open in a little more than it really is. It is easy for anyone to embellish your life and find excuses for everything their business. The realities of life, in which only a small part - actions, and everything else is demagoguery, beautiful tales of spiritual poverty, stolen pictures, which failure voids. We all know how to be real heroes in words, while remaining in life, just people. And sometimes it seems that to be different, to be exceptional to be chosen is happiness. But only the man who had the strange fancy destiny is to be born sighted and in a world of the blind - smashed all the mirrors, took a shard, and he cut out my eyes. To become like everyone else.

The world of the blind sighted rejects, pushes him off as dystrophic embryo pushes out the belly, cures the silent boycott of this malignant growth on the body of society.

I look out the window, I see people. I see the streets pass such different worlds, colliding with each other built their own walls. I know that each of them is in its own right. But in the right, in its unwavering truth, they have lost the ability to hear and understand others. And there's so much loneliness, so much pain, quarrels, squabbles, abuse, hatred... And no one, no one wants to hear and understand, but everyone is ready to prove it was his, the only possible case. No, this is not a war of faiths, it is the loss of losses. The loss of understanding. Because of the wall of his cramped little world, little world inside my head, everything is alien and hostile. We can't hear each other. We don't want to hear, we already all know. But we know it?

Personality needs to grow. As trees grow, how mountains grow, how to grow grass how to grow the city as a growing man, from his early immaturity of feeling joy and pain of growing up. But as a growing person? Because it is not measured in centimeters, grams, high wages, expensive watches, honors, or other earthly blessings. No, the identity of the person grows, covering him all around. At the beginning of this path, you're a baby. All you have is a chubby awkward arms and legs that you just learn to manage the voice and smell of mom, the taste of warm milk and a blur of colors, which slowly begins to emerge the reality. But you grow and your personality grows, covering more and more, you throw in the growth of understanding of the father, the grandmother who gives you candy and knitting the endless sweater, and a favorite toy, and favorite book, and many other things. Your world grows with you. He grows out of things, sounds, smells, residence of the feelings and thoughts. Then you will outline your world around a handful of the people close to you will build an unbreakable wall and... blind. Your world, your personality will cease to grow.