idleness [Theme]

Idleness is a brew for despair.

God Himself lay down at the end of his working day under the tree of knowledge: so he rested from his being, as the being of God ... He made everything too beautiful ... The devil is only the idleness of God on every seventh day.

The trouble is neither idleness nor laziness can be corrected.

Idleness moment.

Where could Lyubonka go, who was repulsed from everywhere? Perhaps she would have fled to the regiment, or I don't know where, if she had been a man; but as a girl she fled to herself; for years she endured her grief, her grievances, her idleness, her thoughts; when, little by little, a part of the wandering in her soul began to settle, when there was no satisfaction of the natural, strong need to speak out to someone, she grabbed the pen, she began to write, that is, to express, so to speak, to herself that occupied her and thereby relieve her soul ...

At the school of life, I was a congenital poor student, but I also wanted to move from class to class, and therefore I developed my own system, familiar to every mediocrity: at exams, you need to copy the correct answer from your comrades and pretend that you solved all the tasks yourself. Often this simple method, even more primitive and unworthy than using a cheat sheet, turns out to be quite effective. The exam is passed, the student passes to the next class. However, classes here are already at a new level of complexity, and the poor fellow did not understand even simpler material. He sits in the classroom, seems to be listening to the teacher, but he cannot comprehend anything. The unfortunate dumbass faces two paths: either to give up on everything and disappear, or to pretend further, as if science is given to you. The choice is determined not even by how much courage and how much weakness is inherent in you by nature, but by what properties these courage and weakness are. Each of the decisions can be explained by both the first of these qualities and the second; and in any case there is an ineradicable, almost poetic addiction to idleness.

Because you should be able to have fun, ' continued the Marquis. In fact, it's the only thing in life.

Victory is idle time when people are most vulnerable.

The glutton have like. Are you going to devour itself until the end of time.

For someone idleness is the mother of all vices, the ending is brutal slavery and death. For someone idleness is a challenge. It was not the worst punishment for Russian peasant 18-19 century like to watch "idly tied to the chair" working friends. Say sophisticated penalty that came up with the Industrialists, the Germans in Russia. The Germans are generally good psychologists when it comes to stimulation of labor. But the trouble is to put German psychology on Russian soil. Through the asphalt of the city strikes the mutant rebellion. Not be good for anyone.
I'm in a spiritual small, because adhere to drawing from his own life experience. For me sloth is the reason for the discipline and internal discipline. Idleness, as a kind of freedom requires tremendous effort, because this freedom is easier to give to someone - to throw to the feet of the authority to free themselves from the burden of responsibility. Not everyone is able to carry freedom. Most people prefer the freedom to sell for a mess of pottage, as Esau sold his birthright to Jacob. Idleness will master not everyone. By nature most of us are slaves of Convention. Understand yourself, identify your own personality are the characteristics of the original freedom. But the original freedom is a heavy load. Believe in the word. Easier for a mess of pottage...

- I think you are wasting your time!
- I think not! The time will not lose, not this attacked!
- You're with him, I suppose, never talked?
- I may not be talking, but was not thinking how to kill time!

They began to thump even more - now not from grief, but from joy, Russian is somehow different...

The rains have gone... In the morning fog spreading like a huge feathery cloud. Not see the house across the street, the Windows shrouded in steam, the trees like cotton. All around - soft, plush, weightless. I love these in the morning. The calm, the silence, the feeling of a fairy tale. Today, Socrates woke up at five in the morning, something was trying to say, then curled up and fell asleep.
I think he was trying to whisper about how nice to be idle and quiet. I know it is. Without prompting homegrown philosophers. Idleness has taught. Work, including. Paradox? Not at all. Try to spend alone and idle at least twenty-one days. The duration of the quarantine. If you don't decide by the end of the second week to commit suicide from the opened abyss, then begin a new existence. Nothing feels human freedom. It is one thing to obey conventions, to compel myself to work, as a duty, another thing to realize the desire of his heart. But first - a painful return to his real "I". All the breaking of the three-pillar human beings. Flour weakened by the twenty-first day. Why? Say that updated blood composition. And where there is blood there is the spirit. The test is not easy. Sometimes, at night will be without the usual worldly pleasures, and then frantically found the button, which wants to escape from himself, his self. Noise comfortable because it allows you to listen to the silence. There will come from the heavenly bells? Well, as something terrible? Run from yourself, do not want to stop and take a break. I'm afraid to be alone with freedom.
From birth we fall into the slavery conventions. And then can't stand freedom.
(Psychologist and a psychopath)

The rain came pouring down in the morning. And a veil held out before lunch. To work do not need to go. There are savings. However, not much. Cost of living. However, this time the rain has put a dent in my meager budget. Bare "meaning" to my existence in the form of cracks on the roof. Bad men worked with the Kalmyk people. All summer skipped like hell on a hot flat roof. Something smoked, burned, blackened. Descended from the "heavens" dark, heavy, drunk from exhaustion.
But the cracks remained.
Through these cracks flowed the muddy streams of water first aunt Gali, then in other neighbouring upper floors. Stirred people. I do not know how many living souls accommodate our small entryway. Wail, rushed out into the street, nervously deciding what to do? The voices - a Legion.
Heads viscous bass Semyon Ivanovich, a former Sergeant of the entrance. Thick bald man with a raspy voice. After the psycho-neurological clinic became deaf and passive. Used to go to door and collected money for housing repairs. Now not walk. Run on doctors engaged in health, day, drinking beer and telling old ladies about their medical exploits. Praise.
Semyon Ivanovich always very much. Too much. I would have him cut. At least a little. Somehow it does not strike by lightning. Didn't deserve it. But we all deserve such a neighbor.
- It is necessary to collect from each apartment, Basit man. And to call.
- Must - agree. And to call.
Decided to call a team of repairmen of the roof and patch up the cracks. To finish the job for those who have already received the money. They may be from the same company?
Red briefs from the balcony of the stranger disappeared immediately after rain. Funny men with Kalmyk cheekbones too. As it was not them. But the cracks remained. Circle of hypocrisy. Even the devil from the middle Kingdom rush this summer.
Gave the last savings of a roofing crew of climbers. What to do?
Tomorrow will contact the Director of the market Street, volunteered to sell meat. At least until the beginning of autumn. You need to patch the cracks in the budget. Funny, isn't it? Spitting on the world gave rise to the heavenly embarrassment, Livni revealed the flaws of the house, the cracks of the roof has exposed holes in my budget. The only real groundwork to roll a hog, butchering of the head, punching knife of the peritoneum, to stand behind the counter in a blood red robe and to trade. I'm better than two bald men with Kalmyk school? Nothing. Perhaps they, too, of former psychologists? Idleness is the sort of thing that requires constant vitality. And a lot of sources for covering holes in the budget.
(Psychologist and a psychopath)