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Integrated control technology a reality
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Post by Гуфест » Tue Feb 26, 2019 13:16

For the transition to take, which gives one peace and then it's wash and go is seen in the new world. Blurring can occur if you have something catchy in the world from where you want to go, and the transition may not occur at the desired item if you did not see where he went, or went, so the new world is a must see.Otherwise, if you do not see a new world, that will throw another under the hand of new virtuallock under the new hologramme, and will be new to see, the insight occurs quickly, if you have experience. During the transition to see the destination to be useful.

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Post by Гуфест » Tue Feb 26, 2019 13:32

Rayban will stand in place)) if you turn and walk away into oblivion.

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Post by Лон » Fri Mar 01, 2019 13:49


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Post by Гуфест » Mon Mar 04, 2019 10:56

LON, on the courses that they themselves decided to choose for themselves.

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Post by Лон » Mon Mar 04, 2019 11:05

Гуфест wrote:
Mon Mar 04, 2019 10:56
LON, on the courses that they themselves decided to choose for themselves.
while nothing is chosen, no strength to do science and development at the same time))) while all the reserves of energy spent on organizing the sea of junk information in his head and body))) and on practical implementation, building a rhythm of life.

in all its tasks, it seemed to me that this resource may be useful to someone.

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Post by Гуфест » Mon Mar 04, 2019 14:45

The idea is good, to get an education and find a good job, helps me very nookular mental, to keep the attention on the desired task, the work he disciplinarum.

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Виталий Куклин
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Post by Виталий Куклин » Tue Mar 26, 2019 9:10

Since this topic is for General discussion... I will Ask here and the name of neocolony associated with the noosphere?

And whether a useful study of the materials of the noosphere for a better understanding of the theme neocolonial?

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Post by Радуга » Tue Mar 26, 2019 15:22

Виталий Куклин wrote:
Tue Mar 26, 2019 9:10
I ask here and the name of neocolony associated with the noosphere?
As I read the thread "fundamentals of energy-magic" ,that may come in handy).
Аура wrote:
Wed May 27, 2015 13:31
Nookular how the product was created on the basis of the holographic model of the universe, if you like, holographic program, this program is more real though, because in response to the high aspects, a greater number of markers of real/virtual programs that were described above
Аура wrote:
Tue May 12, 2015 23:25
Andrew wrote HV(a):
How to make a reloading real programs using neocolony.
We can say that this is the basic principle of operation of nokolaev. Only in this case, sookwan nothing dozagruzhat, it offers (extension of integral fields), and to download can only the operator.
Source: viewtopic.php?f=35&t=5782&start=25
PS Download it with intention.

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Post by Aura » Thu Apr 11, 2019 21:14

Виталий Куклин wrote:
Tue Mar 26, 2019 9:10
I ask here and the name of neocolony associated with the noosphere?
Of course it is. It is important to understand the difference between the concepts of the noosphere and GAIP, the difference was explained in the thread BRM, if I'm not mistaken. In short, the concept of "noosphere", formulated by V. I. Vernadsky, refers to the community of organic consciousness, and we are in the power of a modern vector of development have the energy-information field which in addition to the vibration mass of organic consciousnesses involves a technical component, satellites, mobile communications, telecommunication, etc in today's world we can't distinguish an organic compound with no inorganic (crystalline), so methods of access to GAIP are other.

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Post by Лон » Mon Apr 15, 2019 11:26

The future of the system / Tips and insights

People wonder ponder:

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Post by райбан » Wed Apr 17, 2019 14:07

Timelessness, when there is nothing: no past, no future.
Accommodation in the mode of temporality through the past.
Fixing on a point to live "here and now", in the sense of the present means to live also in time.
Temporality — the enormous accumulated volume of time which is continuously consumed every living object, organic with inorganic.
There are individual scale crushing movement from one point in space, or on the plane.
With a certain rhythm: internal and external.
If we discard the concept of "time", the timelessness of each will appear in the tree view, the key of possible events, in similarity with the family tree.
It is not fixed, but exists in all versions outside of time.
The human's living according to the pattern "tree" is fixing some branches in it.
Branches of reality, if we take the basis that the time in the branches of the realities flowing everywhere the same.
Key mandatory event points for every person: born died. For example — Mozart.
He was born, then died. In between, did so-and-so.
(Very important for General culture, and therefore remember)
That is, there is no description of relative temporality.
Or to say it simply: time does not exist for the dead.
Time only for living beings.

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Post by райбан » Fri Apr 26, 2019 10:45

from new. "Lust for life"
название
Steps in the sweltering February.
Cautious and shaky.
Prompt night movably carries a secret life.
It is everywhere, gets all the secluded places, where you wish.
Shuffling, uncertain gait gait interspersed with a muted thud is heard somewhere in the indecipherable hum of open space, universal, unceasing every second of the hubbub of the city streets of the metropolis.
Barely audible sighted steps almost steps barely visible in the dark.
So merges the noise of the wings of the butterfly in the full range of sounds of the meadow glades.
They creep closer and closer.
Seemed barely guess the silhouette of the walking shadow, looks like a sexless creature.
Formless, enclosed almost completely incomprehensible garment.
It came out of nowhere, barely illuminated as the night lights bubbling lights in polumgla, quick before dawn.
More precisely, slowly rose from the top floor, or slightly worrying somewhere not to do. Then he moved somehow to the main roof with a solid protective fence, where gleamed the inverted stars an outdoor pool with clear water.
Now was rising with stops at the ladder to the roof of the technical chamber premises the maintenance of elevators and other mechanisms of a tall building.
Bulky premises adjacent to the rear wall of the hotel, overlooking the steep cliff above the building.
Dimensional tapping, sometimes with a dull clang on the metal parts of the stairs made walking stick or staff, which it tapped in search of a solid support under the feet, groped obstacles ahead and relied on slow movement upward.
There, at the top of the entire roof, it dropped the subject like a stick in the side, with some bitterness wriggled out of clothes, similar to a burial shroud and stood silent idol.
If at the present moment, were found, who watched the scene, it became undoubtedly clear would be unknown to the audience that this is a man without a certain age.
He came to the place where they still wished to be contrary will.
Perhaps it would be nicer to be somewhere in a cold home.
Or let's say, a leisurely stroll through the night, not sleeping a clean prospect, filled with an idle and carefree people.
Where people like twins that look like each other, but different.
Then slow footsteps on the freshly washed pavement, by which it is carried by fast riders on electric scooters.
To stay for a short time near some iron box, about braking with a squeal of the bus, sitting where the old Asian guy in white shirt wearing a straw hat on a bench playing the accompaniment on his shiny saxophone jazz unfading tunes of yesteryear emanating from a portable speaker.
And the old stand by and a street musician would play, self-absorbed, removing the enchanting sounds of the magic pipe, and he would stand there and listen, enjoying the game of fingers and lips.
Let the melody will be simple and not so virtuous.
Let him, if only to listen and to contemplate the very flow of life.
To the sheer edge of the falls from height only need to take a couple of steps.
... Hey, don't go, don't go. Hear!— someone whispers hot in his numb temples of the man.
— Wait a little while, irritating and begs her wounded soul.
— Do not hurry,— says this inner voice whether in parting, whether cautioning against the rash step off a roof.
Explosive mix of not understand why and different things, knocking on all the doors in the brain: shame, conscience, bitterness, resentment, remorse, reflex fear of death.
Dokurennaya cigarette, flashing past the lights flew down into the darkness of the abyss of endless high-rise hotel.
All! You have to decide: now or never.
When to introduce such a convenient moment for the timely care of all that holds strong ropes in this world.
Only need to be completed and ready for such a step:
— Are you ready? — He asked himself, pulling his hands outwards, just embracing the celestial horizon.
Being similar to the human form and simultaneously a huge bird with bruised wings.
Flicked a lighter, setting fire to a new column of the cigarette.
Again falls a bit of a delay, finally to determine the intelligent choice.
The thin wisps of smoke rise up, spun fanciful swirls away into the distance, immediately razvivalas dissolve the heavy oppressive air of the local microcosm.
<

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Post by райбан » Sun May 05, 2019 14:37

"lust for life"
God... It left me in a distant country.
Unnecessary now a foreign land.
Marg! Where are you?!
But Marg, the elusive invisible next as always.
See incorporeal shadow, feel his quiet purr.
Lying next to the bed.
Ears, keenly guarding my escape into oblivion.
It happens or not?
Wants to shout in all throat a bestial howl that he heard and understood some frenzied condition of the doomed man.
Because God hears the humble prayers of the earthly flock, and heed only the obstinate who read out the whole world with pain and rage.
The Creek doesn't have to be loud, not mechanical or memorized, is more important than the emotional component and setting inside the perception of situations.
You can enter the arena of life of the modern Gladiator, let him die in battle fighter.
And you can run out on the sand of the arena frightened gray mouse, to die under the feet of the battling players, or accidentally get in the head with a sword.
He frantically thought the brain worked hard, not wanting to waste to give up on the values of God, life, death and destiny.
Struck in the head is unclear how breaking into the moment of the fatal farewell fragments of thoughts, memories, conclusions.
Interfere other nonsense that we ought to leave a note or to write a will, at least by hand on paper, or both together.
Fate... what is fate human:
"Fate better not to run and then die tired."
It is, rightly so.
Unexpectedly, accidentally flashed with a thought like insight, he remembered that was one of the reasons has driven him here.
That was long ago, in his past, left behind life, or lives.
Thinking about it, he muttered, not going to make sense, so just to maintain a little conversation:
— Hmm, nothing, the week has just begun.
— Come on, it was already over.
He looked and looked at the old woman with surprise:
— How? After all, today is only Tuesday in the yard!
— So what. Tuesday is almost gone, tomorrow is Wednesday, then you look for Friday, and Sunday came. That week flew by in a flash.
— So right, if this reasoning, then the whole life seems one summer day.
— Right, young man,— Tamara G. shook himself internally, if rejuvenated immediately, remembering ran's youth, turning from the gray-haired old lady in the mischievous dark-haired girl with curls in a construction brigade jacket:
That's when I was young; uhh!— as the time stretched long.
So it seemed to me. First, the Komsomol, learning, student construction, then kids went. All because time was missing.
But here achieved with pensions, look at the past year, like not really lived. Too headlong life flew by for me. And now all too quickly. Raaz — and no my last, God measured out years. How so?!
— Can we steal now?— he joked unsuccessfully:
— Aliens or aliens from alpha Centauri.
— Probably. If anything is missing, Tamara G. was supported somehow crazy idea.
— Yes, I agree, but it's fair to say — you live in time, live in time. Wake up call alarm routine, the same schedule for all. New day was like the previous day, to every detail.
Week like another week.
So now you think life has passed very quickly.
Yes, leave, for himself and for himself, the past.
Tamara G. reluctantly shook his head, clearly not agreeing with the arguments quietly old paplavskis to the door, went home.
From that casual conversation thoughts on the sacrament was left the head. Sometimes he felt that the answer is somewhere close.
It lies directly on the surface of existence.
One has only to reach out and gain the coveted secret known only to a select crowd who had not known death.
Again to think you can retire into a world of magic or the world of science, and he burrowed into the world of time.
He almost merged with it, became, if not the smallest kernel of a system called Time, one of the particles of the world, bore it in.
He created an illusory personal worlds, consisting of myself and of time, then destroyed them for no need, and again, creating something new and perfect.
After all, We're creating a world, worlds, worlds create or us, or both and a third.
Naively thinking that is on the right path, he hammered into the brains of knowledge, telling myself that already knows about this world, everything, or almost everything.
But what does "know everything"?
Is equivalent to saying that nothing know.
Because man cannot completely know due to the fact that you cannot understand basic things.
Why do rivers flow why grass grows, why the sun rises, where does the time go, what is the whole world.
Yes, all men do likewise; always talking about something, someone to discuss the show, pyzhas struggling to seem at some matters summarized nerdy.
But in fact it is not.
They show like all know.
Bragging right and left, throwing beautiful words, they know how to live right.
But again, don't understand what it means to "truly live".
Teach life, certainly not for so, for the sake of mere interest or charity, and earn on this case, easy money, public relations, fame in various fields.
Yes, I wish people paid attention, would be engaged in the development, real work.
But the further it was set in a deep impasse.
Like the composer, who plunging into a new creature, is a fast learner from the air the invisible musical waves of the unknown music heard to one it, he also struggled to catch the waves of time.
More and more he went into speculations, dazzled by fantasmagorichnost plan, like kooky in his old age the master watchmaker, continuously trace over the accuracy of the seconds hands over a dozen faulty hours.
Indulged in this occupation between odd jobs, devoting all free time to the world Time.
This world is deeper swallowed it as if in a swamp quagmire, absorbed, fascinated by the mystery and inaccessibility logic to embrace the simple attention of countless variations of different theories.
But time passed, tech, around, not paying any attention to the pathetic attempts of a tiny little man, to subjugate the law of time.
Time mischievously grinned, clearly joked nal him; then suddenly accelerated several times, then slowing down at random within the cycle, or just froze on the spot without the slightest movement, like a sailing ship, the sea become attached to one latitude in a dead calm.
Where is she now, old woman of God dandelion Tamara Georgievna...
He shook his head, banishing the past, tormented soul memories.
After fruitless attempts to ride the unruly fractious time, he subdued the anger in the soul of the left, threw up my seloputo idea.
Burned records, deleted files, erased posts.
Dropped everything and forgot exactly a nightmare.
But now if resurfaced, the Ghost of the old woman revived from the past, this Tamara G. not wanting to disappear, as in reality, in the course of that memorable conversation, asked a squeaky voice:
— Did you figure out over time? Learned how to make life longer?
If she were alive, made of flesh and blood, and already experienced a crazy idea he replied:
— How? I don't know, Tamara Georgievna, did not work. But unlikely you'll probably. Try to Live outside of time, treat time, live today like the last day.
Touch of tomorrow, like a new born life.
There are more options, but there are more difficult...
He wanted to continue to produced hard work achievements, unconsciously enjoying the new delay, but the vision of the old woman melted, accusingly waving a dry pen, or saying goodbye to you soon, whether...
<

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Post by райбан » Sun May 05, 2019 15:47

"lust for life"
Now he thought again about time and the timelessness of life, mentally flipping through the destroyed notes:
"... Outside of Temporality, when there is nothing: no past, no future.
Accommodation in the mode of temporality through the past.
Fixing on a point to live "here and now", in the sense of the present means to live also in time.
Temporality — the enormous accumulated volume of time which is continuously consumed every living object, organic with inorganic.
There are individual scale crushing movement from one point in space, or on the plane.
With a certain rhythm: internal and external.
If we discard the concept of "time", the timelessness of each will appear in the tree view, the key of possible events, in similarity with the family tree.
It is not fixed, but exists in all versions Outside of Time.
The human's living according to the pattern "tree" is fixing some branches in it.
Branches of reality, if we take the basis that the time in the branches of the realities flowing everywhere the same.
Key mandatory event points for every person: born died. For example — Mozart.
He was born, then died. In between, did so-and-so.
(Very important for General culture, and therefore remember)
That is, there is no description of relative temporality.
Or to say it simply: time does not exist for the dead.
Time only for living beings..."
Fear did not prevent him from thinking.
The brain reduces them to the limit, on the contrary worked on the verge of capabilities of the mind like the engine of a racing car when the fast and the furious.
Now standing on the roof, two steps away from jumping from a height, he asked himself the eternal question:
"What I know about life?
Or I also like everything and I know nothing about it...
Here it is the life while you are here, safe on the roof, but once you cross the line — and here it is death.
But come!' all about itself Yes about itself.
It is interesting to say the answer in my place, those, all the other people about life, about fear?
What is it that's so, take away from the life, Mr. Time?"
He sadly smiled and continued inner monologue:
"They say everything changes: times, people.
But as always, wrong.
Damn, nothing has changed: neither the times nor themselves.
As it was, and is, and will be tomorrow.
Change only one setting, the scenery, so to speak.
The execution of a mentally ill human theater..."
Almost unbeknownst to him, because he was fascinated by his flow, brain called for vague conjecture, completely interrupting the rest of the garbage:
"What if people could live forever, or almost forever.
He reduces life? In principle.
Let the lifetime selected by the master Time.
So be it. But what else?
Yeah, there where tree of events.
We present visually that we draw it on the Board...
The event tree would grow indefinitely, and could be any desire to bring it to an extreme, but life always presents unexpected surprises.
And it happens because the event tree placed the key point, where all branches of the realities from the last point.
It is an event life line is laid down from birth for the development in the desired specific direction, or to perform some kind of a preset task, that is fate.
Yeah, here it is clear.
But who is programming these lines, objectives, key points, branches of reality?
So, go ahead.
Between key points, you can move as you like.
In any event the branches farther from the root, the stronger the voltage the external environment, but avoid the points themselves can not.
Because too large a distance from its own root, or the point can cause stress in the external environment is not compatible with life.
Also points are some common people, injury, illness, death of loved ones, accidents and other events that drastically alter the view about the world.
So, wait: what does that mean?
It's true, people would live much longer, judging by the inherent nature of the resource in the body, but the point!— the damn point.
They are to blame, that's the hitch.
Who creates them, if not God himself, the Creator of the universe, or artificial intelligence?
For example, experimental man currently lives smoothly and happily, in a moustache does not blow, their branch events.
Then BAM, surprise!— God throws man to another branch of reality where the point associated with sickness or accident.
It is clear that for healthy subjects, at once lose most of their health and time have nothing to do with.
No, too tricky and despicable to God.
So, think ahead...
Entry into the next key point or branch of reality, can take place quite imperceptibly.
And depends on how a person builds a causal line between points, how big the resistance is the root and the external environment, i.e. the World.
Then it turns out it was a human equal with God, by deeds, by causal relations, he creates a future point.
Similarly, if the subject drinks too much, then the next point is cirrhosis, how to drink, or something worse.
So, to understand its purpose — is to reduce the level of stress and health loss to a minimum, when entering the following key point...
Transerfing reality for half a minute in its natural form!
Whew! There! All out — and succeeded.
But what is my role, how to understand, what should I do?
So. You should try to find the result in the construction of mathematical models of life, or, in one word, matrix.
The matrix has me, and Yes, I am a product of the matrix, spit in the reality of the struggles that black–and-white, white–blue and not the colors of the seven coloured rainbow.
But it does not matter, because it does not see the future, to exercise freedom.
The matrix as a symbol Mat. The analysis uses in its calculations, variables, functions, and complex–variables-on life.
Wanted to try something new in life, you go to a special market of matrices, the variable buying adventures for a hundred bucks, you put it in yourself and it starts.
You're on a snowboard on snow-covered slopes of the Alps.
Ten minutes passed, and you're again back there in the market.
But where to find such a shop?
Okay, now calmly next: the task of algebra take the variables "x" and "y", protravel the axes in volume space, an equation to drive the data 6D dimensions...
And the result fell in the white sector zero?
<

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Post by райбан » Sun May 05, 2019 17:31

"lust for life"
And came about as casual computer games and VR (virtual reality) called, well, let's say, "Lust for life".
Options data download client on the game server;
Features: repak, hacking security codes, pirate copy;
The previous starting location: somewhere in the province of the Russian Federation;
Difficulty level: maximum, ultra–hardcore survival.
Conditional spawn points of the character — no;
Genre, rating, multiplayer, linear RPG with open world, populated by various NPCs (non–рlayer сharacter): bots, freaks, media, morons, zombies, etc. There are elements of quests, horror;
The method — randomly solo;
Character abilities: beginner, no perks, new;
Level, HP (hit points) — below the average value;
The ultimate goal is to solve the Problem..."
Calming the excitement by making two steps, he came and stood at the edge of the solid wall.
Not a big secret to say that location was chosen quite well, with the front side of the hotel a security fence from the grid were absent.
Everyone froze and stopped.
Subsided a breath of warm breeze faded the noise of the avenues, even time itself gave the go-ahead to stop.
If he whole world, the whole universe waited to see what will the miserable man, in this decisive moment the main problem.
Because a tree branch the man draws himself, each time making a choice.
It's time to go, time is running out, and the Task seems already passed.
Now he knew in advance what it is to die.
First, of course, will hurt.
Then will take place. And like a dying buzz release.
Slightly bent down and looked him in the eye inviting to his abyss.
No ustashas swaying height, not believing that it is dangerous to the future point.
Somewhere very far below, standing out cloudy patches in the night light, could see a rare point of people rectangles of cars in the Parking lots and ovals of low trees, the squares of the roofs of houses, diamonds flower beds, strips of straight roads and curves of sidewalks...
And suddenly, before my eyes everything swam in circles, spun, mixed and intertwined.
Your ears growing ultra-high whistle of the coming flight.
His bare feet in sandals, felt a tingling sensation sure a hot needles.
After a few seconds of increasing vibration.
Then half the roof shook under the feet of the enraged bull in a bullfight.
The body staggered backward.
Unconsciously, without wanting it, he kept a delicate balance not to fall down from dizziness or shaking.
Probably, a simple auto-suggestion, he thought and, oblivious to these little things, waiting for that to happen.
But diabolical obsession has not let up.
All the spots of the landscape, structures and buildings turned first to a chaotic mess of flickering shapes.
Then merging into a flashing operation, which fades from one to the other figures, spread in a more complex structure of visual images: a rotating cuboids and hexahedra pouring toroids, spinning fractals.
Here it is — a hacked brain multi-dimensional reality, honed finished beauty in every small element.
No, now he looked, he Saw differently.
But not with the eyes but unclear what.
Vision spontaneously switched to this way of perceiving.
— Man also has a structure as a fractal architecture surfaced from somewhere inexplicable how this decoded information.
Although time itself, also arises from fractal structures.
Themselves are fractals possessing his body, and he was of them, and he now perceived the World as the greatest set of geometry.
The download is successful and ...<

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Post by райбан » Sat May 11, 2019 22:32

"lust for life"
Somewhere in the province of China.
Swarthy, black-haired, short Chinese woman wearing a lightweight white jacket with blue stripes and short shorts, brought me to the entrances, dual elevators.
She busily pressed buttons on both the digital display immediately, perhaps someone to stop and pick us up.
High-speed elevators moved with the quiet noise on numerous floors of the clinic.
She said, a studied smile, funny explaining a little mangling of the language by its pronunciation, but I interrupted her:
— look Yulia, you know...
— Chito?
Thoughtfully repeated the idea, not a bit confuses this point:
— you know I thought I was not afraid of anything in this life.
Neither God nor the devil, nor death. Absolutely nothing to make me take on the fear. It turned out that all had been resolved.
Was already on the roof, and could not step down.
Don't know why. Probably still scared or something...
— do you understand me? why is it so?
But Julia said nothing.
Only watched it is unclear how wide-eyed.
No, she is not condemned for cowardice.
Blamed condemnation for attempting suicide.
Just as it looked special.
And maybe the interviewee on duty did not understand until the end, because repeated:
— you know I didn't cross the line...
No, again look slanted eyes and silence.
Perhaps they're in the habit: everyone makes their own choices.
Once and for all.
Life is not a series of Chinese melodrama.
And sentimental persuasion — not here.
Elevator doors suddenly opened.
She nodded to me and went inside her spacious cabin with a capacity of around ten people.
Although she was already filled with people.
They are slightly parted and we entered.
Immediately she pressed the button, the doors closed, the Elevator jerked a little and went on.
We stood near the exit.
A normal lift.
Bright plastic walls without mirrors and without graffiti, steel handrails to hold on.
At the top of the digital display, with podmanivaya red numbers of traversed floors.
Almost in the middle, separating me from Julia, is a black wheelchair, behind her back, holding the man, apparently a relative or someone else.
The chair is huge, large as two of me, a man my age with a shaved bald head.
His forehead in the hollow was wrapped in bandages, in nostrils and mouth stuck on the tube, some of the droppers with a liquid, supplied from the counter top back mobile chairs.
People either slept protracted sleep, or was in suspended animation exactly is green vegetable that will never return to normal life.
He hoarsely breathed through the transparent tube, not looking around, not moving.
Just breathing, just living, nothing more, not thinking about anything.
Immersed in durmannogo dreams, just falling asleep forever Buddha.
I wonder what he sees there, such.
I thought, imagining myself in his place.
In the Elevator of doom all was silent.
I said loudly, in order to disperse this fucking silence, in spite of what a lot of people, Yes I would and no one understood, referring to the unexpected acquaintance, expressive putting a hand on immobilized cripple:
— is also now the same going?!
While there, I wanted to ask a different question, slightly expanded, what can I expect in the future according to the doctors.
But how come it happened.
"Yes," without going into details, she answered briefly, turning away and turning over the leaves with my tests.
Yes, she and I clearly understood each other, almost with one word, and it wasn't the language barrier.
Not at all. The attitude to life here is quite different.
Lift something clicked, paused, opening the door wide open.
She stepped out, I followed behind her, leaning on the Hiking stick.
Reality if sweating at the top, welling hardened colors, if you come out of the womb.
Probably insisted the time to explain what it's about.
I then stood at the edge.
How to explain do not know.
If the average person to bring to the brink, to the precipice of the waterfall, or he will just stand on the ledge of the mountain, it is unlikely that you will feel.
But joy or something else.<

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Post by райбан » Sat May 11, 2019 22:57

Somewhere in the Russian province.
Sanka, I really tried.
But I couldn't do anything about it.
Feet and hands, and especially the tongue no longer obeyed his malicious orders from the brain.
Was a hell of heat
Nothing was saved except the saving shade of willows near the river, on the shore. Or even bathing in it.
He was definitely trying to find happiness..
Only not given it.
No way.
Where's his happiness?
In what it is.
He didn't know.
Therefore, stuck and stuck his shovel into the stony ground full bayonet, omenaas and slabas, not sure who.
Digging this black earth soil as got the tractor.
By nature Sanka Logonov was not angry, not militant, but rather the opposite.
He is kind, if unattended dog a hard life.
Grey hair crew cut, , just white fluff of poplar lost its now firmly glued to the top.
Deep lines, like furrows plowed in it a century fathoms.
Mustache... but where are they now.
Shaved on the orders of the rural Sergeant, now a local policeman, who occupied the village Council.
If only vkladchikov to gather, but at the mention of the honourable whiskers.
But these seditious thoughts have not occurred in the little head of the humble villagers.
And even more so at the Sanka Logonov.
He, too, felt a Scream.
Yes, not a yell, in which you can Express in a rollicking song to the accordion, all that is in my soul.
Because neosoznanna aggression leads to consequences.
From which it is difficult to get rid of.
Just "Krycek", but he kept quiet until the time to time.
And that in fact the asylum shines: not look that the village Council, instantly primchatsya from the district station svetlozara "loaf" with a syringe in his hand.
And just come running, not on a second or pomedliv the efforts of "well-wishers" one call to the relevant authorities.

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Post by Гуфест » Sun May 19, 2019 22:05

The VOYNICH manuscript finally Hello,that was ancient Aromatny the style of the text in the book indicates the agreement between humans,demons,vampires,etc., after the cataclysm of the agreement has ceased to operate,the entity gained their freedom,it is the insights of the author.After began re-establishing control people in entities.

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Post by райбан » Thu Jul 11, 2019 23:00

The wind., wind, wind...
He alone knows what happened to me.
And perhaps I too will become wind, messenger of the Arabic Sands.
The desert itself will do everything for me.
The mound of the grave, and sing a curl at the funeral, that will not find Easter sandstorm.
Invited guests will become the burial bones
The Golden sand seemed to relish all the knaves to enrich themselves for free...
Immediately and punished for their haste..
The sand is punished or who is I need to learn.
There, beyond the horizon of the dunes is there a Door into Summer.
Enough to sit and whine.
Time.
The time has come to collect tents and backpacks.
To... you must learn the bitterness of Golden Sands.

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Post by райбан » Thu Jul 11, 2019 23:07

Lust for life.
God...
He left me in a distant country.
Unnecessary now a foreign land.
But who am I, little worm, which caused himself to raise an unjust rebellion against the crowned Start which governs all living things in the world, including the tops of the flowers, as if by the wave of a Regal finger blooming buds in the morning, and carefully folding the petals at the approach of evening.
Marg! Where are you?!
But Marg, the elusive invisible next as always.
See incorporeal shadow, feel his quiet purr.
Lies near my bed.
Raising his ears, he keenly guarding my escape into oblivion.
It happens or not? What happened to the phantoms of love?
Wants to shout in all throat a bestial howl that they all heard and understood some frenzied condition of the doomed man.
Because God hears the humble prayers of the earthly flock, and heed only the obstinate who announces peace with pain and rage.
Cozy room in a luxury hotel is now my tiger cage where you can't escape no matter what.
White sheets and blankets that had given the shade in the hot afternoon, Terry towels, changing every day.
Air conditioning, TV, why should I?!
I don't see anything with your eyes.
Think again, white fluff on my head is spinning like an autumn forest pautinki.
He's visible only to me.
Now know only invisible and intangible , not material.
Aura...
It is visible as never before from my body.
The glow from my hands, from my fingers.
And the breath escapes from the lungs, then from the lips barely perceptible whitish stream.
Dissolving somewhere in the red, nervous cloud, which is called the society.
Fighting again tidy maids for my mess, arranged in the room.
Only to anything.
Bespoleznyj, as they say.
What and how, it's all crap.
Not fun, if you know exactly what you have to pay.
Does not add up life in your tricky puzzles.
And if you want to develop how? wrong, as always happens with losers.
Somehow got out of bed, balancing my dark reality.
Sliding the balcony door gently stepped aside, revealing the muddy form.
Groped on the bedside table, a pack of cigarettes with lighter, Chinese shit, but have to smoke.
No, it'll never get thrown out, balcony, fenced grid.
And so you just have to think further.
There is a camping knife and storm rope.
Throat cut, or Vienna?
But there will be a lot of blood that can never wash off.
In the ceiling of the room was a steel hook.
Maybe for hanging something there.
I already touched: he seemed massive and strong. to withstand my weight
Hook beckoned me: come on! Don't worry, I will not fail!
It was like it was specially crafted and hammered into the ceiling, so I is hanged.
Fucking hook was seen made for such fatalists like me.
But it is not!
Not gonna tell the father that hanged himself on the pipe steam heating.
Grinning inside, approached the Desk in the corner, blindly groped for the pack of painkillers.
Two pills at once? Yes.
Drinking water from plastic bottles, which were brought by the attendants.(tap water is crap)
All bullshit.
All pass or not pass.
After such moments of present life, will not be the same.
Never, old.
Hard to fit in the head, but as always.
It happened and it is so.
That I was blind.
First completely, and then fully.
All bullshit.
Quietly beating heart to live.
I kind of like the song, sort of not.
To the tram stop moving and smiling.
Don't know why, so simple. All then all then.
Hug the shoulders, where you only hear the voice:
— There are open doors for us, white-white will be that separation won't be long, let the earth you will boys...
Which "there" was.
And in a different reality, how are things going?
The artifact is the neck too tight and burns like fire.
Not to break would be the "face" in the dog–fight competitions against astral werewolves.
Now I began to understand the elderly and grandmothers sitting alone on the benches near the entrances of houses.
Used to think, well, why should they sit motionless, moan, groan, for what?
Now it is clear.
Zen, Nirvana, old wisdom, experience of life, and if you're still alive and smoke the sky their breaths, call it what you want, but it's there, and it is also a pleasure, the contemplation of life itself, akin to the euphoria of drugs.
Just what happens to the age-old wisdom and experience; she is to leave in the dust, into oblivion?
Then why? It repeats again.
Ten-year-old boy could remember exactly what I have in there somewhere a long time went to a kindergarten and a school, taught lessons, cramming the alphabet, engaged in "Fitzroy" and other things, and then not remember.
Seen erased, or erased from the memory.
Oath... Yes, if any military or pioneer, a religious sacrament in churches and mosques.
Who and why, I ask.
The oath to someone, swear allegiance, and then it disappears or becomes not a priority, quite simply unnecessary, and samurai are made ronin.
So, apparently, have to swear allegiance only to themselves or the University, who was able to go into eternal Summer.
Tsars, kings, presidents, Huber, measures — they are people of the same flesh and bones.
So why worship and humiliation before them.
Also to feel not only build of jelly and bone, and something else, more advanced than the water and the sky, than life and death.
And will only squeak rang out in the gloomy silence, the soft soles of my sandals on the spacious hotel corridors.
The wind., wind, wind...
He alone knows what happened to me.
And perhaps I too will become wind, messenger of the Arabic Sands.
The desert itself will do everything for me.
The mound of the grave, and sing a curl at the funeral, that will not find Easter sandstorm.
Invited guests will become the burial bones
The Golden sand seemed to relish all the knaves to enrich themselves for free...
Immediately and punished for their haste..
The sand is punished or who is I need to learn.
There, beyond the horizon of the dunes is there a Door into Summer.
Enough to sit and whine.
Time.
The time has come to collect tents and backpacks.
To... you must learn the bitterness of Golden Sands.<

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Post by райбан » Thu Jul 11, 2019 23:28

lust for life
I was in some kind of wild reality.
We walked around the City, my aims or not, look gritty, not particularly linger on the faces of people passing by, each time finding them irresistible differences, reflected in the mirrored Windows.
Head squeezed like a Hoop.
Slowly, as if in a dream, a very slowly — rotating gears of destiny.
The world again, for the umpteenth time, firmly puts me on my knees in front of him, forcing her to know the pain.
The evil wolves of fate finally caught up with unreservedly distressed all contingencies of the tiger.
I didn't feel I knew for sure — the Wolves chased the Tiger.
And soon will come the end of the endless RAID.
It happens: when you stand in front of the light, you the shadow falls, and she suddenly splits in two.
Or shade to become ten times more in size, there, indistinguishable in the dark.
Fleetingly pay attention to it, short nod in response, as if welcoming their silent "second I", that's all.
Not terrible, what is there to be afraid of, fear comes later.

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Post by райбан » Thu Jul 11, 2019 23:31

Hey mages, good scare at night..

put points also all.
shoot you down like dogs nerezanyh...

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Post by Гуфест » Wed Aug 14, 2019 13:11

Tiger lying in the forest licking the front paws of the meal, which was completed tolkochto, his face stretched into a smile each time you touch the tongue to the wool, which he loved to lick whenever his tongue out to lick his paw, he suddenly froze, suddenly out of the bushes jumped a wild pig of medium size which slowly ran to meet the sunset sun. The tiger head flashed several thoughts, the pig is already someone mining and how dangerous chasing her, and the thought that this beautiful plump pig can be, very good Breakfast, lunch or dinner, fixing his gaze to track the fleeing of food, which every second turned into a diminishing point, waiting for a few seconds making sure his pursuers no tiger scored through the nostrils a full breath jumped up and began pursuit.

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Post by райбан » Wed Aug 14, 2019 17:11

The wind, the wind, the lonely desert winds El Maghreb...
He alone knows what happened to me.
And perhaps I too will become wind, messenger of the Arabic Sands.
The desert itself will do everything for me.
Nametet grave mound, do not skimp on the funeral tent with high top, and sing a vortex curl on the Wake, that will not find.
Hissing melodious snake, howl Easter Samum, under the musical melody ringing lances of the ligaments of the app-Rabat dirhams in the weightless outfits half-naked dark-skinned beauties in the bends of the sweet–sticky belly dancing.
And then, after a while, uninvited and invited guests at the funeral feast will become a funeral decayed bones, and gnawed by scavengers first.
And the desert, she look there?
Probably burning the yellow sand, like schists studded with microscopic gold shimmers under the sun, gradually disappearing into the sunset.
He is tempted by all the knaves of the world who want to enrich themselves for free, in search of the fabulous king Solomon's mines.
Immediately and punish such haste.
Quicksand punishes or who, is I need to learn.
There, beyond the horizon of the dunes, is there a Door into Summer, into a blooming oasis of life?
The natural thirst, in that desert, what is it in the taste of madness and despair in the near expectation of death?
What is there more important to her: the minute wish to drink plain water from the Sizzling heat, unwavering desire for survival, or one derives from the other?
Enough to sit and whine. It's time for a trip to Africa.
To look for the face of suffering and understanding where one loses all sense of self-understanding of life processes.
It is time to collect the tent and unloading a backpack, be sure to know the bitterness of Golden Sands sprinkled near FEZ and Marrakech.
Then walk through the Blue City, to look into the ancient tombs of the Medina, and to stay overnight on a cold night near the Kasbah of AIT Ben haddou.
Yes, I am ready to drink your own urine to catch striped snakes for dinner with his bare hands to dig the dunes and dirt of the desert to learn the absolute truth steeped in wine.
The truth of the sages and old men who have forgotten what it is and there is.
Because it is not true, — "Just live".
Just to live?! And what on earth for.
It is not clear? But what we have in the body.
Something I sold, you first need to restore sight, and so many problems again with the road there.
But you have to remember that all great journeys begin with one small step.
You need to take that first step to dream, to achieve the goal.
I want to explore the World.
As a small child to look into the tired eyes of the conductor through the desert of the Arab scourge of our camels
I wonder what you see in them, and he in mine....
Greens of birch forests in the country white people when they Istachatta life juice, blue expanse of rivers, the expanse of feather grass steppes, the boundless road of bitterness and loss,
meadows full of uncut grass, fields, dal, dal really has stretched over the horizon.
Rain, snow, frost...
And in return., instead, don't know how lucky you are, because they hide your eyes,
closing them for a handkerchief turbans or turban from the sandy wind.
I raise my head and look up, there the sky is filled with stars, shining precious pearls in the veil paneveziukas daughter of a Muslim Sheik.
The sky, or not, as in Russia.
And probably not that.
Yes, of course, is suicide.
To go into the wilderness without a guide, without anything.
And I'll look up the path in the Summer.<

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Post by райбан » Wed Aug 14, 2019 17:25

And the system of the World, it is what?
The taste is full of madness and despair, when I want to shoot and shoot, killing every living thing...
If it consists of many millions of subsystems.
For example, the human system: there is a man always wants gradually to chop, to breed and to cheat.
Yes, if anyone on the imaginary place: a wife, husband, boyfriend, passers, random passengers in the tram, boyfriend, girlfriend, colleague, doesn't matter.
Man man always wants to fuck on the full program, and even worse — to kill, to exterminate completely.
Who, I wonder, the arbiter of man's life, really?
The man himself — the carcass of flesh, blood and bones;
whether fate determined by the stars in the sky, God's Providence, or donkey head with skin of a Zebra, which a studied podzuzhivaya saying in us: "all right, deep right, do not worry, once again, throw a coin for good luck and everything will work out", decide what to do, where to do?
Sometimes, and not sometimes, but always, it seems that hell is not somewhere out there after death, and near here, on planet Earth.
Who sinned and how am I to justify myself to Sun...

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