Book: Moscow-Petushki

Why are they all so rude? Huh? And rough-in fact, highlighted rough in those moments when you can't be rude when a person with a hangover all over your trousers, when he is faint-hearted and quiet! Why?! Oh, if only the whole world, if everyone in the world would have been like I am now, quiet and timid and would be as sure of nothing, neither in itself, nor in the seriousness of their place under the heavens - as it would be good!

I expand them horizons as much, and they really liked it when I extended it to them: especially in all that concerns Israel and the Arabs. Here they were in a perfect rapture - love from Israel love the Arabs, and from the Golan heights in particular. And Abba of Eban and Moshe Dayan with a language they have never left. They came in the morning with a b***OK, for example, and one asks the other: "how was it? All of the 13 room Diane Eban?" And he answers with a smug smile: "Where did it fucking go? Of course, Diane."

Not all simplicity is Holy. And not every Comedy is divine...

- Well, Nikolay Gogol...
- Nikolai Gogol?..
- He always, when he was at Panaeva, asked to put him on the table is a special pink glass...
- And drank from a pink glass.
- What about drinking?
- And who knows!.. Well, you can drink from a pink glass? Well, of course, vodka...

A "stepped on" - why? Because, suppose a man is sad and goes to Baba. You can't go to Baba and not to drink! that bad, you pussy! Yes, even if bad - you still have to drink. On the contrary, the worse the woman the better we got to turn up!..

Because human life is minute Oceania soul? And Eclipse of the soul, too? We all kind of drunk, only in their own way, one had more, another less. And who how does: one laughs in the eyes of this world and the other is crying on the chest of this world. One has vomit, and he was good, and the other just starting to feel sick. And I - what am I? I have a lot of taste, and no action, I even never like to be not laughed, and I didn't throw up once. I have tasted in this world so much that you lose count and consistency, I think clearly everyone in this world; I just have tight work...

Desperately drank! All honest people of Russia! And why were they drinking? - with despair drink! Drinking because honest! Because not was to alleviate the plight of the people! People are suffocating in poverty and ignorance, if you read this Dmitry Pisarev! He writes: "people can't afford beef, but vodka is cheaper than beef, and because drinking Russian man, from the poverty of his drink! The book he cannot afford because the market neither Gogol nor Belinsky, and one only vodka, and exclusive, and every and on tap and a takeaway! Because he drinks from the ignorance of my drink!"

Yes, Yes, that day my lovely heart for half an hour fought with reason. As in the tragedies of Pierre Corneille, the poet laureate: the debt of struggling with heart attraction. Only I have the opposite: a heart desire fought with reason and duty. My heart said, "you've been hurt, you razed to GOV***. I suppose, whisk, and drink up. Get up and go and get drunk as***". So said my lovely heart. And my sanity? - he grumbled and rebelled: "you don't get up, Erofeev, you're not going anywhere and will never drink". But the heart of it: "well, the broom, okay. Much to drink don't get drunk as***, and drink four hundred grams and enough". "No gram! - he rapped her mind. - if you have to, go and drink three mugs of beer; and about grams of its own, Erofeev, and remember to forget." But a heart ache: "well, at least two hundred grams. Well... well, at least a hundred and fifty..." and then reason, "Well, Vinnie," he said, "well, drink a hundred and fifty, just don't go anywhere, stay home". What do you think? I drank a hundred and fifty and stay home? Haha. I from this day drank one thousand five hundred every day to sit at home, and still remained sitting. Because on the sixth day already so soaked that vanished the distinction between mind and heart, and both in the voice I learned: "Go, go to Petushki! In Petushki - your salvation and your joy, go ahead."

Well, get up and go. We all saw what you went. Don't insult us and do not torment. Get up and go. Well, I got up and went. Not to relieve myself. In order to alleviate it.

Amazing! I entered the car and sit, suffering from the thought, who took me - the moor or not moor? A bad opinion of me, is it good? And these drink warmly and openly, as the crowns of creation, drunk with the consciousness of their own superiority over the world... "snack type? I beg of you?"!" ... I pohmelfs in the morning, hiding from heaven and earth, because it is more intimate than any intimacy!.. To work drink - hide. During operation drink - hide... And these!! "TRANS-prices-den-talтально!"

I pulled out the suitcase with all I have, and felt all around, from sandwich to pink strong for the ruble thirty-seven. Felt - and suddenly I'm all satamile and faded... Lord, here you see what I have. But do I need it? Is this longs my soul? That's what gave me the people instead of what the soul longs! And if they gave me that, unless I would need it? Look, Lord, here: pink strong for the ruble thirty-seven... And all in blue lightning, the Lord answered me:
- What's with the stigmata of St. Teresa? They're her too. But they coveted her.
- That's it! I replied in delight. - That's me too, me too - I coveted it, but no need!
"Well, if desired, Venichka, and drink" - quietly I thought, but still he paused. The Lord will tell me something or not say? The Lord was silent.

Someone told me once that to die is very simple: what to do this forty times in a row deep, as deep as possible, inhale, and exhale as much, from the bottom of our hearts - and then you give the soul. Maybe to try?

I cried, perhaps aloud cried, and woke up again, this time even in the throes, because now everything in me trembled, and the face and clothes, soul and thoughts.

Ablaze with the sunset, and the horses trembled, and where the happiness about which they write in the Newspapers?