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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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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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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.
- Виталий Куклин
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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?
And whether a useful study of the materials of the noosphere for a better understanding of the theme neocolonial?
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As I read the thread "fundamentals of energy-magic" ,that may come in handy).Виталий Куклин wrote: ↑Tue Mar 26, 2019 9:10I ask here and the name of neocolony associated with the noosphere?
Аура wrote: ↑Wed May 27, 2015 13:31Nookular 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
Source: viewtopic.php?f=35&t=5782&start=25Аура wrote: ↑Tue May 12, 2015 23:25Andrew 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.
PS Download it with intention.
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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.Виталий Куклин wrote: ↑Tue Mar 26, 2019 9:10I ask here and the name of neocolony associated with the noosphere?
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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.
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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"lust for life"
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 ...<
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 ...<
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
"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.<
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.<
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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.
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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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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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.
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.
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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.<
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.<
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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.
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.
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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.
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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.<
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.<
Discuss and ask questions on General topics
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...
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...