I’m going to post a story (a bliss? noooo way..wait for it). It’s written in russian but translated by me today (I’m lazy and I’m bad at it, but enjoy). I guess it’s some kind of a teen fiction. I honestly never thought about a genre before today lol. So me! But because I stuck in the “teen” age, I probably can write only that. Or the poems. I don’t know. I’m too lazy to think anyway.
There’s a song at the end of the story…(kinda song 😂). I’ve recorded a short audio for you – it’s always easier to get ‘the idea’ how it sounds if you can listen it. I wanted to “present” you the melody. Yeah, the voice is mine. But don’t worry, you’ll survive, because the song lasts only 26 seconds haha
The horribly-lovely sketches of the heroes attached below as well.
And yeah, go ahead, say “whats the hell is going on?” Haha. I know you want.
It’s all a Lie
No one knows where is it. The Place. Only me. And from now on…- you.
I want you to close your eyes. Please, do it.
Look quietly inside of you. Do you see the unlimited, beautiful, peaceful space? It is yours. Even if you don’t know anything about it – it is yours. The Place where you are absolutely free. It is your life and your mind. It is real. It is immortal. It’s a mark to be penetrated. Penetrate it, my friend.
Now open your eyes. Tell me what do you see. The same old stuff. You are surrounded by familiar things, by the people you know, by the dreams you are dreaming, by the news you are creating…Sometimes you are happy, sometimes you are depressed; some days you are angry and bitter, the others – calm and weird. You are different. But you are you. A human. Living the best life you can. Because you’ve got only one. You are banging your head about endless YOLO-wall every second, until you die. And you believe you are here, on the Earth, to live.
But all you really are –
Just the Source.
The Electric Transmitter.
Don’t worry, you’ll understand what I mean when I’ll tell you everything I know.
First of all you have to understand – I am real. I do exist. And everything I’m telling is the truth. My name is Linda and I’m living in the usual swedish city with my family. Very small family. The name of the city is Soderhamn, but we call it here – Doderhamn. That means “The Dead City”. No, there’re no zombies, we named it so because the streets are always empty. Noon? No-one outside. Friday night? Still no-one outside. Fighting loneliness? Go out alone to explore my city – and get back home more depressed than ever. That kind of the city it is.
I am the only child. And tomorrow is my birthday. How old? Oh, too old! 18.
Every year, the day before my birthday, I’m reading the letter from my father, again and again, trying to understand: why the life always make us to sacrifice someone who we really love?…
“A long time ago, long ago, so long ago that no one can remember, and no tree can remember, and no rock can remember; so long ago that there were no people, and there were no trees, and the rocks had not been made… haha, I’m just kidding, Linda. It sounds like the perfect beginning for a very happy or sad story. Our story is happy, Linda, even if you don’t believe in it. And I want assure you – there’s no death. Like there’s no life. So when I’ll die – I won’t be dead. Of course, I’d like to see every your step and listen every your laugh. To cook breakfasts together, or maybe run every morning before your mum will get up and make her amazing coffee. I’d like to tell you how cute you are when you are reading or hugging a cat. But I understand it doesn’t matter because I know the truth and I’m going there, where the truth begins. Inside of It. The Earth isn’t what we think it is. We are not what we think we are. I can not change it. I don’t know even if I want to change it. All I want is to tell you – don’t be afraid. Never be afraid. Close your eyes. Dissolve in the darkness. Squeeze the space. Embrace the silence. Listen. This is where the things begin to change.
I know, I am the father you almost do not remember. But one day…again, like in the perfect fairytale, we’ll meet. I love you.”
I dont know anymore what Im feeling when I’m reading his words. Maybe I hope he’ll suddenly arrive at my door, by some magic. But he won’t. He’s dead. And I’m the next.
Yes, I forgot to tell you – I’m sick. Most of the time I’m spending at the hospital right now. The cancer. Everybody looking at me with such a despair, I can’t bear it anymore. “Thats not your fault, – I want to scream, – and thats not my fault either”.
Tomorrow I’ll be 18. Happy Birthday to me! And Hurra!
“Drundin, don’t touch her! Don’t you remember what our auntie told us about humans? They belongs to OM”
“So? I can’t leave the piece of the new flesh here. She can be useful in our science-class. We could open her up and check…Hm, interesting, what she is doing here? Humans are rarely coming to Din in their normal, mmm, cover.”
“Lets go. Lets forget. Let’s…”
The voices. Yes. I can hear them. Happy Birthday!? The clowns? A play? The present from my mum?
Trying to open my eyes, oh, yes, there they are, hanging…right above of me. They looks like some kind of the small dolls. Aliens? I don’t know, maybe. I think, I like them. Two cute chubby monsters. They remind me the balloons. Somewhere in my heart still lived a hope that my mum have ordered them for my birthday.
“She’s moving. No, I don’t understand how we could find alive human here. She shouldn’t be alive! And she shouldn’t be here!”
“Hey,” – I felt I have to start the conversation, – ‘Where’s my mum? I want to talk to her.”
“Mum? There’re no mums here, – answered the one called Drundin. – And you are NOT welcome, because you are still alive and if you don’t want to die right now – I probably have to do it by myself.”
“Hahahah. Sorry, she doesnt mean it.. ” – seems the second voice had a fun. But not me.
“I did!” – interrupted the bigger balloon.
“Who are you?”
“We are living here. Its our place – Din”
Din – Don. Don- Din. I hate you. I hate your Din. I hate your names. I honestly don’t wanna know your names. I want to know where am I and where’s my mum. And my bed. I want my bed back. And my cancer back. And my meds. And the doctors. Yes. I want them all back. Go away, balloons! Goooooo awwwwayyyyy!!!!!
Ok, I never told them that. But I really wanted. Do you believe me? Yeah…
We all have days when we feel “thats enough” – time for a change, time for a mystery. Lately, I felt the lure of the unknown quite regularly. I felt the itch to leave my “Dead City” and ran away to some place where no one knows me, my name, my family, my language. The place where maybe I could find the lost part of my real self. I can’t believe this is The Place I’m looking for. No.
What do I know so far? The creatures are real, and they looks like the balloons. Probably thats why they can float in the air and even fly if they need it, with a different speed. They told me the planet called Din. They didn’t know how I arrived here because all humans should usually go to OM directly. The OM was some kind of the ‘spaceless wall’ or the door in the middle of the Din. They didn’t know much about it. I’ve asked them how they could fly so easy and they told me that their hearts are ‘weightless’ while the humans hearts are ‘heavy’.
“Humans are never happy. They aren’t happy when they have 2 legs, they aren’t happy when they don’t have any legs at all,” – they explained to me.
The balloons think we are unhappy because of the lack of the brains: human heads are very small. The human head contains the brains which weighs about 1,3 kg. Then there is the skull, the eyes, the teeth, the musles and skin. In all, an average head weighs around 5 kg. Its kinda heavy. Go grab 2 bags of sugar (each 2,5 kg) and hold them with one hand. It’s a lot of weight perched up there on your neck, especially if you are in a car accident or a fall. Ouch! But balloons were irreconcilable – humans head should grow more, at least 1 or 2 sizes bigger.
What do you think? I don’t want any double-balloon head. I’m fine with mine.
Are you laughing? I would. It’s normal. Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait here. All the time in the world. Is mine.
Ok, now when you are done with your laughing, I want to mention: I don’t know why I’m here. How? When it happened? Did I die? Is it the place where we all going after the death? And if so, then why nobody ever told us about it? What is the OM? Why behind the door? Why nobody ever got back from the OM?
Chaos in my head. Too many questions.
I have to admit to you, the scariest moment was, probably, when I’ve realized:
I’ll never see you again, The Earth.
I’ll never hug you, Mum.
I’ll never grow up.
I’ll never run away.
Because I’m not Me anymore.
I don’t know what I am.
And this is what scares me the most.
Eh, and also one more question is boiling inside of my ‘1,3 kg of wisdom’: Why i am still alive?
“How’s your name?” – I’ve asked a bit smaller balloon.
“You’ve got a very beautiful smile, Prundin. The bright smile”.
“Oh, I can NOT stand this conversation. We’ll take you to our auntie now. And she’ll decide what to do with you. Hopefully she can make you look ‘dead’ and we can finally take your body to our science-class. Mmmm, can you sing?” – Drundin have started to jump up and down.
“Yes, when we are on the road – we are always singing”.
“Is it very far?”
Someone is anxious.
“Haha. Lets go…”
And then they’ve started to sing. It was so ridiculous, but still so refreshing:
I can sing like a bird.
I can swim like a fish.
I can jump on the cloud.
I can shine like the sun.
…after a while you could hear the third voice among those two. Three absolutely happy voices.
But even if this is the most beautiful planet in the galaxy or beyond, I still don’t want to die here. I think I don’t want to die at all. I’m choosing life.
Living in Sweden/Born in USSR. Happy. Ayurvedic food. Healthy lifestyle. Dogs. Literature. Painting. Meditation/Yoga. I love my life.
"It does not matter how long you are spending on the earth, how much money you have gathered or how much attention you have received. It is the amount of positive vibration you have radiated in life that matters" A. Ray