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the writer, the poet. And to get me on the path of righteousness have helped the work of Mikhail Litvak, that I was reading out of boredom, when I go sailing round the world on the cruiser “Peter the Great”. For six months we hung out in the oceans – the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Indian, the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, the Strait of Gibraltar, the Suez canal, the Cape of Good Hope. The main water areas that create an idea of what it was for the journey. More precisely, it was not a journey, but a real combat campaign, because we had to conduct operations to catch Somali pirates in the Gulf of Aden. In General, I read a wise book Litvak is “Psychological vampirism”, “the adventures of the Eternal Prince”, the “Principle sperm”, “From hell to Paradise” (should have been called “From hell to heaven short cut”, but short cuts, unfortunately, does not happen). When I got tired of reading Litvak, I began more serious work: “the Art of being”, “the Art of love” – Erich Fromm; “People who play games”, “Games that people play” – Eric Bern; “Lectures on psychoanalysis” – Sigmund Freud, and so on… Until, one day, I met on the way a very nice woman. I thought I had fallen in love with her, but it was really just a psychological addiction that had nothing to do with love. At first, she was, and is, older than me twenty years. She was, and is, married. As/that, we had talked on what/sort of philosophical topics, where I captured shone with their knowledge of philosophy and psychology, after which she gave me a book of Michael Weller’s “All about life”. Her husband, by the way, immediately began to call me a Philosopher. The first phrase in this serious book is: “I know everything about life. The funny thing is, it’s true.“And then, I read the book in one gulp, missing all the strange moments. And then I became interested in the work of Weller so that he began to write, not even books, because the books were still very far away, and short sketches, so to speak – sketches. Then, I fell in love with Tasha. But I don’t want to talk about that yet. Thanks to her, I again turned the wrong way – I started doing business and all sorts of financial tricks. And when all these machinations ended in a catastrophic failure, I swore never to touch such cases again. Since then, I began to study literature professionally. I wrote the first book on philosophy called the Immortal book. In it I set out my view on the nature and way of life of man and society. Then, just three fiction stories, and so on – for two and a half years, I published twenty works. This, it turns out, twenty-first, but she zamislili huge volume, so here you can safely fit in all of those twenty that I wrote before. The only difference is that in the early works the concentration of thought is much more dense, and the work on artistic images is much more thorough, though not always. In General, I tell you the story of his “feats”, and I think, whether I have enough power to finish a book of twenty-five author’s sheets. After the first three I already started to feel the lack of knowledge and weakness of talent. I don’t even dare redcity text because the volume is again reduced, and again I have to grind, scrape, withoiut to vismirnovite, to extract, to squeeze the thoughts from the depths of memory. And I can already see that here we are not talking about the hoarse notes. It is rather a question of piling up as many words as possible. But not without meaning. The perfection of genius, you know. Every letter lives. Every word flutters. Each phrase is amazing. Have you ever seen such a degree of egocentrism? Beata stultitia – blissful stupidity. I love those Latin expressions. It is important the correct pronunciation: beat of stultitia. Did you see that? Beati of possidentes happy with. The price paid for love. I lost everything. However, he acquired a treasure that is more precious than all metals. I have acquired a woman who is firmly entrenched in my head. Wine-colored cheeks beauty. The one who loves has to pay. Love is expensive. But she’s probably worth it. One day, I got Her drunk the rare wine of origin. Since then, everything has spun. We burn the fire of passion in a box from/under the TV. Wandering lovers. Nothing in the world is better than to steal the bride right in the Church. The ransom is still nothing to pay. Why am I sitting?! It’s time to think about where to get a place for our joint residence. There can be no wedding without living space. As, however, without a stable income. How much are you or sing about the great love and the numbers will not lie. Most marriages, I note, break up because of the financial insolvency of the young. How long can you hold on to the help of parents? Some parents leave early. Married people are drowning in the depths of the scandals. The life of an idiot passes through the purse of capitalists. It is not possible to bypass it. Can be only to agree or to swallow, as a malign fish oil. I prefer to swallow. To negotiate with people who have no morals is akin to suicide. Once the devil persuaded Faust to go on a long journey. But to the noble husband these difficulties as seeds to lust. If only there was something to eat and smoke. The rest is the little things of life. How many people can live without food? And without water? This and that. Heard Mavrodi, when I was sitting in a special block among the most frostbitten killers of the country, he several times protested with a hunger strike. One of these hunger strikes, called “dry”, is the complete rejection not only of food but also of water. Like the twelve days it lasted in this condition. However… I want to remind, our ancestors lived in such conditions that such hunger strikes at them were perfect norm. We are not talking about a dry hunger strike, because you can always drink water – there is no shortage, if you do not live in the desert or Savannah. Sea water, however, can not drink, though it is a lot on our planet. And the glaciers are too inaccessible to hope for. I read that travelers in Africa, if there was an urgent need for fluid, cut the artery of the horse and drank blood directly from there. The horse was dying, of course. The thirst for this quenched not too. But why not do it for the sake of survival. Suddenly I thought that if my brain contains billions of neurons, and if each of them contains at least a drop of information, then I can write a work of a billion letters. This has never been done in literature. And/I think it is possible only theoretically. What if I’m already tired of clicking on the keys. And dictate personal Secretary! I’m not personal. You have to do everything yourself. Good supply of cigarettes and potatoes allows you to slap on the buttons of the laptop. My laptop, by the way, is about to die – it’s so old. This will be the end of my literary career. I should have bought a typewriter. Or mountains of notebooks. I am often asked if I have a notebook in which I write down interesting ideas. What a fucking notebook! Ideas arise in the process of working on the book. It is quite rare that they arise just like that. Even less – quickly forgotten. It is a habit of mediocre people to write down successful phrases on a piece of paper. How much time will it take to write a full-fledged work in this manner? Forever?! Joyce has been working seven years on Ulysses. It is important to understand that Joyce was in no hurry, because he sat on a scholarship patron. It is important to understand that he is not day by day engaged in writing a story, and combined with other work, or just idle. In the aggregate this novel was created days a hundred/two hundred – not more. They say that the work on Faust was carried out fifty-three years. Rubbish! If Goethe regularly worked on the work for fifty-three years, it would have turned out to be exorbitant volumes. Has it occurred to anyone that there are no such legends about the divine Comedy, which is three times longer than Faust? What about the nine hundred and twenty-nine pages of Vergil’s poetry? About the antics of Scheherazade? The adventures of dunno? By the way, to write a children’s book of this volume, you really need to be a genius. The adult population can be so driven. But children have to weigh every word. They’re sensitive. The impact on the sensitive psyche to be very easy. But fear not need to. Children on the contrary like creepy horror stories and unusual stories. Here, if only the imagination did not disappoint. Always dreamed of which/something for kids to write, but so far, only one little knizhenko suffered. And then, based on his own childhood memories. Writing a lot does not mean writing original, unusual, cool or epic. Without greatness, magnificence, scale of thinking of the author it is impossible to achieve epic. Here it is necessary to think at the level of a combination of States and entire worlds, or even entire galaxies. But, originality can be achieved only by the ability to think deeply – at the level of quantum physics – paradoxes, so to speak. I feel like I’m prescribing the basics of literary studies. I don’t have a higher education document. Yes, and in the certificate for the average one three,
