Book: It's too early to bury us. Page 1

Winter this year was like sour milk. Nasty, causing nausea, destroying the appetite for life. The vector of motion is lost again. The route is rebuilt. Where to turn? Left? Rightwards? Turn? One thing is for sure - the main thing is not to stand still, so as not to go crazy again.

Zhenya walked along the dark street, looking at her shoes, disfigured by white stains from the salt reagent that communal services generously sprinkled on the roads. These curves, blurry lines reminded her of internal scars, no matter how much you wash them off, they still show up.

From all the nearby streets, people flocked in groups, forming a single stream. Someone carried posters with portraits of Ostrovsky, someone waved the flags of radical organizations, others stood in the corners, shifting from foot to foot, holding Whatman paper with hand-drawn bright red slogans in their hands. The girl did not leave the feeling of the artificiality of what was happening. Everything looked like a carefully planned production. Have seen. We know. In Kiev, Minsk, Moscow. The same shots. Gradually, the crowd became thicker, richer, boiling like a saucepan of traditional Slavic borscht, in which, according to the classic recipe, fresh meat, and dark scarlet beets, and mischievous carrots, and, of course, crispy cabbage were ideally combined.

Yes, I am also dissatisfied with the actions of the authorities on some points, but I clearly understand that bloodshed will not solve anything, as well as the replacement of the main chess pieces. The inexplicable Russian soul has a number of strange features. Unhealthy and senseless heroism, aimless risk and self-sacrifice, fighting for the sake of a fight. The crowd starts with half a turn, including women and old people who happily wave clubs and anything that comes to hand. There are many problems in the state, but objectively, Russia has never lived better than it does now. How they do not understand that it is impossible to create an ideal world, and change requires time and tremendous work. Hard workers who in the evenings in the kitchen whip vodka and scold the government, young people hanging most of their lives in TikTok, managers lazily sitting on a salary and living on credit - all of them are only able to shout "Give, give, give!", like seagulls, but they do not want to act, build a country with their own hands - laziness, it is better to drink beer in their free time. The school was finished, and, thank God, and if there is also an institute, then everything, the plan is fulfilled, the development is stopped, and degradation begins.

You do not know what a real revolution is, and what its consequences are, it all seems very romantic and heroic to you, but in fact there is nothing romantic about it, only blood, violence, poverty, looting and shit everywhere.

When you are in a certain image for a long time, you literally merge with it. Becoming yourself again is like ripping your skin off alive. Scary and painful. What if in vain? It's safer in the usual role. It's easier to go into denial than to believe again, but sometimes you really want to take a chance, what if? ..

At a certain period of life, there comes a time when you do not care whether you have friends or not, someone loves you or not, whether your neighbors like you or not. The main thing is to be in tune with yourself, but this does not always work. Gradually, there is something in the look that people begin to fear, and stay away from you, and you already enter the taste and specially test them for strength. So far, none have survived.

Most believe that it is a shame to be a patriot now. Fashion chovers tolerance and asceticism into people, dresses in unisex, oversize and masks. I periodically feel sick of the imposed need to observe political correctness. Society, in fact, does not exist, there is an abyss between generations, between rich and poor abyss. And we think about how visiting traders and persons of non-traditional orientation would not be offended, but we forget about each other, Russian citizens who are subjected, frankly speaking, to methodical destruction from all sides. And no Mongol yoke is needed.

Eugene had a clear civic position, simple and easy to explain. She loved her country with all her heart, generally supported the current government, respected, even admired the current leader, but considered unacceptable any attempts by parochial politicians to manipulate the population. They did not know how to play honestly, did not grow up, cared not about people, but about profits. Budgets were quickly "sawn", mayors, regional ministers and heads of departments were imprisoned one by one, and the inhabitants of the long-suffering city of N were increasingly plunged into despair.

Usually adults are incredibly boring. Mortgages, viruses, crises, prostatitis and wrinkles. I would like to talk about high, beautiful, transparent, but not everything about everyday life, money and world domination. Too close to the ground, too cold. When you are thirty, no one will kiss softly on the neck on a summer evening and tremble at the touch of hands.

When chocolate ice cream hits the tongue, you begin to feel happiness with all your gut, and you even want to close your eyes to keep this moment. In relationships, I also do not seek to "throw" people into myself quickly in order to satisfy the "hunger", I choose carefully, it is those who taste, those who are able to give this feeling, leisurely, saturated, from which I want to squeeze.

In her life there was always only work, but not intentionally, just so it happened, loneliness is not planned, it, slowly, on tiptoes, comes into your life, and gradually transports things, stuffing, imperceptibly, the whole space.

Adults for some reason do not care about childhood experiences, they are ready to close their eyes even to the most egregious events, just not to strain, because their problems are full, and adolescents, in their opinion, overwhelmed by hormones, often invent, compose, embellish. And then these same adults wonder why even their own children become completely strangers, strangers, closed, nervous.

Broken children. Too early. It's too scary. They plunged into darkness even before they knew all the joys of the light.