Work Text:
Love, like lightning,
might not strike the same place twice
may not kill or cripple,
yet it leaves an indelible mark,
it scars your heart and soul
with a lingering echo
of fuzzy feelings
much like thunder's distant roll
after the strike...
Don't want to be like others.
It would seem like a desire
that sets me apart from the rest.
But here's the irony:
at least once,
every person living on Earth
has had this very wish:
it unites me with the whole world.
I am just like everyone else.
And even if I become –
I will still be,
I will be like Them,
I will be Them.
It's a double-edged sword...
To be like everyone else
is a truth of Life –
just as terrifying and undeniable
as the loneliness
of two parallel lines...
It's such a shame, that
Parallelism
exists in the world!
Who came up with the idea?!
Who proved
two parallel lines'
incompatibility?
Why are they doomed
to eternal solitude?..
I am against such a fate!
I am for endless
Perpendicularity!
I am for the eternity
of meetings
at the Crossroads
of human destinies!
What is loneliness?
It is Insignificance.
It is Emptiness.
It is Nothing.
It is Zero:
«0-d-i-n-o-ch-e-s-t-v-0»
begins and ends
with this empty digit...
Solitude is a complete zero,
despite its singularity.
It's so strange: in English,
the word «light» denotes both
illumination
and lack of weight...
But Light is heavy –
only Shadows are truly weightless.
Weakness always submits to Strength –
shadows depend on radiance,
therefore are forced
to be more mobile,
while light is ponderous,
despite its incredible speed.
Is the glass half-empty or half-full?
No matter how you look at it,
there is a clarity.
But while an empty glass
might seem to be full,
a full glass might appear empty.
And that is self-deception.
Its Emptiness – or Fullness – represents
either Absolute Deficiency,
which is Nothingness,
or Absolute Surfeit,
which is a perverted form
of Everything.
Having been born, people scream.
They meet their death in silence.
The scream is their joyful anticipation.
The silence is their voiceless denial.
But sometimes, it so also happenes,
a baby's cry is its protest,
and the silence of the dying
is their boundless consent.
And how come
we didn't become
genetic abominations?
We are descendants
from Adam and Eve...
Was incest the only way
to feel closer,
like true brothers
and sisters?
Then why do we build
walls instead of bridges?
Having ceased to be
Cains and Abels,
we turn to solitude.
Beyond the restless souls
who roam the world as phantoms,
some, it seems,
cannot find their refuge
even in the shackles
of their mortal human flesh...
Instead of dealing
with the troubles
of the Flood,
Babylon,
the Crucifixion,
and so on,
God should have just
taken a week off
from the start:
they say,
Rest and Peace
are the best remedy
for workaholism.