Stories from Another Life

By Aiko Sartayeva, Dinara Jones, Frequency Alcyone and 4 more

"Stories from Another Life" is an endeavor made by several female lesbian authors, currently living in Sweden. Their stories describe their life paths; sometimes tragic, sometimes contradictory, but full of hope and love, and of the lessons learnt with time. The stories are quite diverse when it comes to the style and the contents. All of them are based on real events. The names of the characters were altered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Olga Baranova
• Release date: May 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386070344

Book preview

TO FLY OR TO FALL DOWN

Max Ray

Angel and Demon – it sounds mystical.

Light and dark, like the Moon at night.

Their beliefs are so opposite,

Their missions are so different...

And we are humans, we are in the middle.

The right to choose is our power.

We have the ability to create events.

We have a choice. We just need to choose!

It was a jump into the unknown! Those who have never jumped would not be able to fly… or fall. One out of two. Only yesterday I was at home in Kyrgyzstan,¹ and now I am in Sweden, in Stockholm! I emigrated to the capital of Sweden with my beloved woman Inga and her son. Emigration… What a sweet and frightening word! None of us knows what problems and hardships await us in the place of our greatest expectations...

Spring was luring us with its charm and new hopes! It was April when we set foot on foreign land. We dreamed of starting a new life in Sweden, because there was no future for us in our homeland. What future could expect a lesbian couple with a child in an Asian country? Western countries have always been attracting us with their freedom of relationships and the opportunity to live in a homosexual marriage.

My homosexual orientation began to manifest itself in my early childhood. I’ve always been feeling more like a boy, the same boy as any of my six brothers, but the strict traditions of our Muslim family dictated to me a completely different role, alien to me...

***

I am six years old. I’m running in our yard with my brothers, happy and still too young to think about something serious... I am just enjoying the life and freedom of my childhood. I never thought about why I was only playing with boys and preferring boyish games... The world of girls has been too incomprehensible and mysterious for me. I often didn’t understand their games and conversations, but at the same time I felt some strange, slightly unhealthy interest in them.

…My father’s friends from Uzbekistan came to visit us today. We met them in the yard and conducted into our house. My parents introduced me to a girl, daughter of our guests, who was my peer. Zulfia was a very beautiful girl! Her big bright eyes and thick dark hair, braided into many braids, immediately charmed me! I was staring at her for a while, before proposing to play… Whilst adults were sitting at the table and talking, we also began chatting and playing different games. I showed my new friend our yard and all the secret places in it, trying to intrigue her and get her attention. Zulfiya was laughing joyfully when I was enthusiastically telling her the most interesting episodes from my childish life...

Until late in the evening she was running and climbing with me everywhere and it was the happiest day in my childhood life! But then we were called to the house; it was time to go to bed… I desperately wanted her to sleep in my room or even in my bed! In that case I would have been able to admire her when she had fallen asleep, to stroke her hair or hold her hand… At that time, I didn’t realize that my interest in this girl has crossed the line of friendship, and my feelings for her were not childish at all.

Unfortunately, Zulfia and her mother were sleeping in the guest room, very far from me… I was too upset about this! That night I couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. Half the night I was tossing and turning in my bed, never ceasing to think about the past day spent with my new friend. I have never felt such sympathy for anyone until that moment! Having woken up early in the morning, I hurried to the guest room to greet Zilfia and wish her good morning. Her mother was not in the room; she was hustling in the yard together with my mom. They had to prepare breakfast for the whole family, which is one of the usual daily duties of women in Asia.

Zulfia was still sleeping. Her cheeks were pink and her lips were slightly open… She looked like Sleeping Beauty who was waiting for her charming prince. I timidly approached her bad… Closer, one more step closer… and I leaned over the sleeping girl. Having admired her for a while, I unwittingly touched her lips with my lips, and my tremulous kiss was really the kiss of an enamored prince! At that moment I felt something that I had never felt before… Something painfully beautiful and exciting! When I got older, I understood that my interest in Zulfiya was a sexual attraction to her, which I could not have realized as a child...

***

Oh, my crazy dreams about freedom and acceptance! Oh, my hopes for a better life! I never thought they would disappear like the morning mist, having showed me all the harsh reality… How real life sometimes differs from our ideas and expectations! I didn’t even imagine that I would have no less problems and complications than I had in my homeland. I just didn’t think about all this at the time, being preoccupied with our resettlement. In addition, I was deeply in love with my girlfriend Inga and took care of her and her son Andrew... So sad that love often disappears just as suddenly as it appears! Although… Sometimes people meet each other to do something important in their lives. I’m sure that we met with Inga for a reason, perhaps to support each other at that important stage of life. I have never regretted being forced to fight for my beloved woman in Kyrgyzstan, rescuing her from the hands of her ex-husband – a cruel family tyrant who was humiliating and insulting her.

…We landed at the Stockholm airport called Arlanda. There was no one meeting us. When we were passing through the border control, we were very afraid that we would be detained and sent back to Kyrgyzstan… We felt the strongest adrenaline rush as we walked along the long corridors where the guards were standing, leaning casually against the walls. It was like passing through a company of armed soldiers! I put on my sunglasses to hide the anxiety in my eyes. Thank God, everything went well; no one stopped us.

Stockholm impressed us with a huge quantity of cars on the streets, original Scandinavian architecture and strangely dressed people. According to our Asian standards, the locals looked a little bit extravagantly… Everything was so unusual and exciting for us that we felt as if we had arrived on another planet! From the airport we took a taxi to the RFSL² building. We paid the fare of 150 euro that was too expensive. The taxi driver suggested we take the change, but we didn’t. We were very happy that we still arrived at the place where we really needed to be!

It was quiet and almost deserted in the RFSL building. We had a poor orientation in the unknown place, and there was no one we could ask to help us… After our long journey, we were too tired and hungry, and all we wished was just to find a place where we could relax a bit. Andrew wanted to go to toilet, but we didn’t know where the toilets were located. So we had to use a large flower pot with some spreading plant in it as a toilet...

Fortunately, the lawyer with whom we planned to meet was still at work, although the work day had already over. We didn’t speak Swedish, but we tried to explain to him our situation in bad English: who we are and why we are here... At first, the lawyer didn’t understand anything, except for a request for help, but then he called his Russian-speaking colleague who could translate our confused and emotionally-filled story.  As a result of all this, we received three tickets to a special point for refugees. We were sent to a small village with the mysterious name Hedemura, which was a three-hour drive from Stockholm. There we got a tiny one-bedroom apartment where our new life began, full of the brightest hopes!

The village and its surroundings turned out to be a very picturesque place: we could see the mighty  north  forest  and majestic mountains right from our balcony! Among the massive woods there were bizarre rocky agglomerations that more resembled the ruins of ancient castles... There was also a huge lake not far from our house, where afterwards I was fishing many times. Scandinavian nature impressed us deeply with its original harsh beauty!

But as luck would have it, the first day of our arrival was blighted by one unpleasant incident. Inga was looking out the window, admiring the local nature, and some Russian-speaking woman who was passing by, having seen a new face, shouted to her rudely: Hey, you! Why did you come here? Here is such an ass that you have never seen before! Don’t you believe me? Wait a little, and you’ll see for yourself… These words had a bad effect on Inga who was always too impressionable and emotional woman. She immediately felt under the weather and began to yearn and wither...

Two weeks later, Inga fell into depression. Neither magnificent nature, nor beautiful lake no longer admired her... She was lying on the sofa all day long, sad and indifferent to everything around her. It was unbearably painful for me to see the woman I loved in such a grave state of mind!  My heart was breaking apart! It seemed to me that I was losing her day after day, hour after hour… I recalled that the frequent melancholy was tormenting her when we lived in our homeland, and here the situation was the same! I didn’t expect this at all! I was sure that after a life change, a person would forget his past and enjoy a new life. But alas: in most cases human nature prevails, and the person involuntarily returns to his usual state. Unfortunately, Inga has never been an optimist… I was craving for a happy day when our life would finally improve, and my beloved woman would recover! But my hopes didn’t come true: over time, Inga’s condition became even worse than back home...

I can’t say that our lingering and monotonous days as refugees were a happy time. We were surviving on a small benefit, trying to support at least our son and give him everything he needed. Caring for Andrew was what gave meaning to our existence in that difficult period. Our boy was always well-dressed, had all the things he needed and was no different from his peers. He regularly went to school and studied quite well, unlike many of his classmates. There was only one thing that we couldn’t allow him – to have a dog, because it required a lot of extra money to keep a pet.

***

I had a good friend in the season of my youth. His name was Alexander, but everybody called him Sanyok. We often spent time together, drinking beer or playing cards... One day he invited me to his house to look at the puppies of his mongrel Marfa. I can never forget this touching scene: a nice pied hazel-eyed creature was lying on an old mattress in the corner of a shabby room surrounded by its five yelping and cheeping offsets! Sanyok told me that he was going to sell them when they would be one month old. The puppies were plump, fluffy and very funny! They were rooting with their snouts in my hands and looking curiously at me with their dark and shining, like those of their mother, eyes. I was so touched that I even thought about buying one of these cuties. Their color was similar to the color of German Shepherds, but, of course, they were not purebred puppies. I was taking them in my arms, stroking their soft wool and just melting away from the tenderness that overwhelmed me!

Some time had passed before we met with Sanyok again. My first question was about the puppies: whether he had managed to sell them or they were still at home. Sanyok confessed with a deep sigh that he didn’t manage even to give them to somebody for free, not to mention selling them. Nobody wished to take mongrel puppies... People were only interested in purebred dogs with good pedigrees. It’s a pity, of course, but I’ll have to drown them. Tomorrow I’ll throw them from the bridge into the river… concluded Sanyok. My heart shrank! How could I let this happen? Of course, I couldn’t! I’ll take them all! Give them to me, please! I asked my friend. Yes, please! You can take them even today! said Sanyok happily. That very evening, in order not to waste time, I came to him and took away all the puppies.

…In the days of my adolescence there was an ad on TV about dog food Pedigree. The star of this advert clip was the posh German Shepherd, which at the time was a very popular dog breed. I noticed at once that the color of the puppies was very similar to the color of German Shepherd dogs... And what if…? Of course, it was not fair, but in such a way I would save the lives of these lovely helpless creatures! So be it! I called all my numerous friends and told them that I was going to sell purebred dogs at a symbolic price…  All the puppies had been sold in a week! I was even persuaded to sell the last, my most favorite puppy that I wanted to keep for myself.

Then, after a few years, when I came to visit my friends and relatives, at the city market I met my old friend who became the happy owner of one of the puppies. Behind him, I saw a stunted dog with hanging ears, like a dachshund has… Being ashamed, I tried to hide under the counter, but my friend had noticed me. After we greeted each other, we chatted a little on various topics… And here look at your co-called German Shepherd! my friend said, pointing to the cur that was sitting quietly at his feet. Well… Did you feed your dog Pedigree food?I asked, trying to hide my embarrassment. No, was his answer. Then what did you expect? German Shepherds must be fed only special food! If you were feeding your purebred puppy a simple meal, don’t be surprised that the mongrel has grown! It’s your fault! My friend laughed, shaking his head… And then he squatted down next to his dog and gently patted it behind the ear.

***

Life has shown me many times that our society doesn’t like people who are different from everyone else. It prefers grey color… And if you deviate from the norms of society, then all the people around will try to push you into the usual well-trodden track. They put you on the Procrustean bed and make you average, trying to fit you under a standard pattern... But even in very difficult circumstances you shouldn’t lose confidence in yourself! You must always remain true to yourself! There is no need to blindly follow the crowd and obey the strict rules set by someone; you should have your own opinion and your own attitude to life.  When a person understands his life mission and realizes his goal, it separates him from the crowd and makes him special!

…In our village there were a lot of people of the Islamic faith who came to Sweden from Middle Eastern countries. Many people from the former USSR who were brought up in the Soviet mentality were also living there. All these people began to treat us with dislike and condemnation when they found out that we were a lesbian family. Inga was in a more favorable position with her purely feminine appearance, but I was constantly pointed with a finger on the street and whispered behind my back.

I often recalled my past and unwittingly made analogies: from my early youth, I have always been an outcast, even among the dearest and closest people to me. So I’m a lifelong refugee...

***

Oh, how I would like to eat my mother’s scones! I’m missing them so much! About half a year I’m restlessly walking the streets of my hometown, and only the sun is my everlasting and faithful companion...  I’m so tired and so hungry! And one day an idea crossed my mind: I should get somehow into my house to accomplish my everlasting dream – to eat my mother’s scones!

…That night was very quiet. I was going furtively down my native street where I had grown up, and from where I ran away half a year ago. Here is my native home! Tears involuntarily appeared in my eyes... Only one glance at my house - and I felt a surge of new strength! Now nobody and nothing could distract me from completing my plan! I stopped in front of our fence in the hope to get over it. Wow, what a high fence we have! I thought.  I started jumping in order to grab onto the top crossbar, and after several attempts, I managed to do it. I climbed the fence and got over it.

The first creature I saw was our old dog named Druzhok. It recognized me immediately and ran up to me, wagging its tail. I began to stroke the dog and talk to it, unconsciously asking the most important question for me: What do you think, Druzhok, how can I get into the house, if it is always locked up? The clever dog seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation; it looked straight into my eyes and then ran toward the garage... And here one idea came to my mind: I need to get into the garage, find a suitable tool there and use it to pull one of the small sections out of the kitchen window. An overwhelming desire to eat my mother’s scones and lie down on my favorite couch pushed me to take a risky step.

Meanwhile, I was thinking: How did I end up like this? How could I lead such a lifestyle that now I have to sneak into my home like a thief? All of this: my escape from home and wandering through the streets occurred because of my categorical disagreement with the despotic regime of my father that he had established in our family... I was afraid and felt uncomfortable, but, nevertheless I decided not to stop halfway and continue what I had already begun to do. It was not difficult for me to find the pliers in the garage, because I knew quite well where all the tools were. I took the pliers and went over to the kitchen window. It was a laborious task - to pull a small section out of the window as quickly and quietly as it was possible. After inspecting the kitchen window, I quickly decided on which glass needed to be removed, and I began frantically pulling the nails out of the window frame using pliers.

My eyes got used to the dark, and I was well oriented, but my heart was ready to jump out of my chest! It seemed to me that my heartbeat could be heard all over the street! Probably in the silence of the night all sounds were especially clearly audible… I was afraid that my parents would hear my heartbeat and wake up! Finally, the glass was taken out, and I started trying to squeeze through the narrow window frame. My head and shoulders passed immediately, but the thickest part of my body didn’t want to go through, and I had to spin for a long time to get it to squeeze into the frame.

But here I’m inside the house, in the kitchen! Stars were clearly visible from the window taken out. They were shining, as if they were winking at me and saying, We are waiting for you to get back! I hurriedly approached the big pot, in which the scones were usually kept. Oh, I cannot compare this taste with any other! My mom’s scones are the most delicious in the world! It was the taste of my carefree childhood and enthusiastic youthful dreams that were calling me somewhere off into the distance; it was the taste of maternal love and care... I poured some milk into a cup and bit off a large piece of scone, enjoying homemade food. Having chewed the piece and satisfied my hunger a little bit, I felt an irresistible desire to take a nap. I lay down on the couch, having decided to take some rest… Very soon, the warmth and comfort of my home had a warming and relaxing effect on me, and I fell asleep.

I woke up to the noise of the door being opened. I guessed at once that it was my mother who always got up at four o’clock in the morning to read a prayer - namaz and begin to perform her household duties. Mother entered the kitchen and, according to the old tradition, greeted the invisible guardian spirits of the hearth. She whispered, Assalam-aleikum. And I involuntarily answered her with my slightly rough voice, Aleikum assalam! My mother dropped a small mat for namaz on the floor in surprise. Who is here? she asked excitedly and began to enumerate the names of her children: Ermek? Battiar? Ichtiar? It’s me, mommy... I confessed. My mom, of course, recognized me; her eyes filled with tears, and she uttered a few words in Kyrgyz language that roughly meant: Damn you! But she was not angry at all... My mother gave me a hug and said that every day, while reading her prayers, she first of all prays for me, because she is very concerned about my fate. Then she began asking me endless questions about my vagabond life. I was answering her, trying not to upset her greatly, and convincing her that everything was fine with me... Mother looked at me with her sad eyes full of tears and, like a true Muslim woman, asked me: Daughter, have you tried pork?, to which I ironically replied:  Oh, mommy, when you wander the streets, hungry and cold, you can eat even a cat! And pork is, perhaps, even tastier… My mom took a deep breath and burst into tears.  During the conversation, we didn’t notice how the dawn broke.

And suddenly the door swung open. It was my father! With the speed of a wild cat, I instantly hid under the kitchen table; it was low and too long. We usually had dinner at that table, sitting on special pillows… I managed to hide on time! One moment more, and my father would have seen me! He unhurriedly sat at the table at his place of honor that had always been owned only by him. My mother was confused and frightened, because she was very afraid for me; and I was lying curled up under the low table. It was too uncomfortable!  In addition, our cat Marquis decided to greet me: it was meowing loudly and rubbing its muzzle against my ear...

Oh, it was the longest breakfast my father ever had, and it seemed to me that it would never end! Father was in a bad mood, as usual. During breakfast, he recalled me and began saying terrible things, calling me an outcast, a prostitute and a perverted person... He said that I should be taken to the holy mullah to drive the malignant devil out of me, which, according to him, had settled in me! My thoughts were mixed in my head, tears were flowing from my eyes, and my body was so frozen that I could not feel my arms or legs. I could not even breathe or move! It was just terrible!  Only our fluffy handsome Marquis, the only one who was always pleased with everything, kept licking my ear and purr softly…

Fortunately, my elder sister entered the kitchen and said: Father, somebody is calling you! I thanked Heaven and sighed with relief. Finally my father has finished his breakfast! Coming out of the kitchen, he continued to scold me with the worst and harshest words… My mother also was scolded by him for having spoiled me and having brought me up in a very bad way! And finally, my father threatened that he was going to put me on the wanted list, and when I would be found, he would take me to the mullah by force to drive the devil out of me! After that, I would be married and sent to the southern part of Kyrgyzstan, where the power of old traditions wouldn’t give me to step awry…

After my father left, I crawled out from under the table, barely moving my stiffen hands and legs. My face and ear were licked by Marquis who expressed in such a way its favor to me. My state of mind was almost unbearable due to strong moral tension and father’s threats against me. I felt like an outcast that nobody needed and brought only problems and suffering to all relatives. To top it all off, my mother was crying and saying that I didn’t love her and didn’t think about her at all! It turned out that my father constantly accused her of the fact that their daughter, in his opinion, had become a pervert, and that my immoral behavior made my parents ashamed of me… I could not stand it anymore and ran away without even saying good bye to my mother. After stepping out of the gate, I rushed off at great speed along the hedges and ditches, not seeing anything around me.  I was running so fast that it seemed to me for a moment that someone invisible lifted me into the air, and I was flying, feeling freedom and independence with every cell of my body. Having run like this for a while, I fell on the grass, prone. I was lying on the ground for a long time, breathing in the smell of freedom and feeling a surge of new and unknown power...

At that moment I realized a very important thing for me: if it seems to you that you should change something in your life, it means that it doesn’t seem to you at all! And I made a firm decision that I would rather die right on the street and remain for my relatives an eternal outcast, than I would slowly die in a traditional domestic routine called normal life...

***

Due to the endless problems and negative attitudes of other people towards us, the previous great devotion that was uniting us with Inga, began to gradually weaken. Our relationship began to deteriorate from day to day... In addition to all other problems, the Migration Agency employees called us several times a week and asked to show some documents that we didn’t have. Such an attitude annoyed us and put strong moral pressure on us. It seemed that the coldest and indifferent people from all over Sweden were chosen to work in the Migration Agency! We felt neither moral support, nor kindness or understanding. An immigration officer in round glasses, similar to the old prosecutor, was quite skillfully and methodically putting psychological pressure on us… It was making us really nervous! We seemed to be separated from that man by an invisible wall that could not be overcome. Formally following the laws was what we have seen in many employees of the Swedish Migration Agency! Moreover, the observance of laws to the detriment of humanity was considered absolutely normal! We could not understand and accept this... In my opinion, it was extremely unfair!

On the other hand, we were hated and condemned by local people who were refugees, just like us. They didn’t like my appearance and they didn’t understand how Inga could live with a woman! People considered our life unnatural and immoral and many of them even doubted whether we had the right to raise a child... This particularly affected Inga and our son through her influence. Andrew loved both of us and suffered a lot because of the negative things that were happening before his eyes.

Another very serious and painful problem was survival in a foreign country, not knowing the local language. Andrew often complained that his classmates were teasing and insulting him, and his lack of understanding of the language was only amusing them. They were offending him until he began to speak Swedish more or less normally. I got the impression that the locals treat emigrants as unnecessary and useless people, and all they want is to send them back home as soon as possible.

Over time, I began to realize that there was no place here for people with weak psyche! In addition to external troubles, serious problems arose in our family: Inga began to accuse me of having destroyed her family and brought them to this terrible place, where they were subjected to cruel trials and sufferings... In her opinion, Andrew was better off living in a full-fledged family with his father. It is difficult to describe the feelings I experienced when I heard such words from my beloved woman! I had no idea what to do next and didn’t see a way out of this situation. We couldn’t return to our homeland... We would not be able to live there, having lost the habit of obeying strict Asian traditions.

Andrew heard our quarrels and arguments and didn’t understand their reasons, because he was accustomed to consider us as a family and perceived me as one of his parents... Like any other child, he dreamed of having a close-knit family, in which everyone would love and support each other. Andrew was very concerned about the instability of our relationship with Inga; I often saw him crying... My heart was breaking into pieces! It is one thing when you only care about yourself, but I was responsible for the people who became my family, for my woman and my child! I was doing my best for us to live better… A small social benefit could not provide us completely, and there were moments I even had to steal things and food for Andrew so that he had everything he needed…  But when I began working, I stopped stealing! It was my moral principle.

…I knew quite well that people in our village treated us with condemnation and didn’t respect us for our so-called immoral life. But I remember one case when I made them to respect me! This happened when I began to go to the gym to keep myself fit. One day a local boy came there and we started exercising on nearby fitness machines. I was wearing an undershirt that bared my shoulders, and on one shoulder I had a grinning wolf tattoo, very bright and impressive. Having seen it, the boy asked, Have you been in prison? It’s a prison tattoo, isn’t it? Of course, it’s a prison tattoo! I’ve been in prison for several years. I answered without hesitation. Are you serious? And for what? You know, I killed one man… I continued inventing a legend. Did you really kill him?! For what? Because he was asking too many stupid questions and bothering me with unnecessary advices… I couldn’t bear it! As you understand, I never let anyone to humiliate or insult me! This shocking news of my past spread throughout the settlement, and people began to treat me with wariness. The inhabitants of our village stopped pointing fingers at us and whispered behind our backs, and some neighbors even began to greet us. This, of course, is too unfair, but strength is too often valued above all other human qualities...

After some time, Inga started working as a hairdresser, as it was her specialty. And since she was a professional in her business, she had a lot of clients. I also found a job as an assistant farmer in the household. We started making good money. However, the depression didn’t stop torturing my beloved woman; it even became stronger and more painful. Unfortunately, Inga didn’t consider her condition a disease and didn’t want to be treated at all...

The situation worsened even more when we received the decision of the Migration agency to deport us to our homeland. We were informed that Sweden refused us immigration status. It was a big shock for us! This event promised absolutely nothing good for the future of our family! I caught myself gradually falling into an indifferent, semi-depressive state, just like Inga… Oh, if only I could afford this! I was realizing the responsibility for my family and, no matter how hard it was for me, I pulled myself together and continued to fight for our survival. I didn’t expect this fight to end once, but, at the same time, I had no right to sit back!

…Often I hear people say, Oh, I feel so bad! I cannot change anything! I’m so unlucky! Circumstances are stronger than me! Yes, of course, the strength of circumstances is great, but there is one more thing that is even stronger – work on yourself or self-cultivation! It often happens that a person forms his life circumstances with his own perception of reality. He loses faith in himself, obeys fate and slowly goes with the flow of life, keeping blame the strength of circumstances... He denies his weakness and exaggerates the role of external forces. During the most difficult and joyless periods of my life, I used to say to myself, No, that will not do! It’s time to change something in my life! First of all, you have to realize what you have inside yourself that interferes with your happiness and prevents a harmonious way of life. After that you should accept it in yourself, and then slowly and consciously, drop by drop, get rid of unnecessary features of your nature and your perception.

Too often, people seek external happiness, while thinking: When I earn a lot of money, then… When I meet my love…When I change my job to a more prestigious one…  But all this usually doesn’t bring the desired happiness, because it is hidden not somewhere outside, but inside ourselves. Each of us should create our harmonious life on our own, without waiting for the appearance of a good wizard who brings happiness and prosperity… And if you have lost yourself, look for yourself in yourself, and nowhere else, because you are not present anywhere else.

***

Oh, how cold I am! There is pitch darkness around, only the stars are shining in the sky. It is late night... The streets are empty and quiet. All people are sleeping. Where am I going? Nowhere…

Sometimes in total darkness and silence, the minutes that flow in the ocean of time, revive. Their whisper is barely audible, like a light rustle of snowflakes whirling in a fancy dance. Their shapes are blurred, like a reflection of sunlight in the water. These minutes are crying with tears of heart, leaving traces in the diary of solitude… They are trying to tell me something, but I hear only the resounding wail of the cold autumn wind, which seems to be looking for a way out of eternity, but cannot find it...

The wind is my only interlocutor and listener now. I’m involuntary asking him a question that has long been bothering me: Do you know why people accept illusions so seriously?  Maybe all our reality is just an illusion, a dream that lasts a lifetime? People sleep too soundly! thoughtfully answered the wind, slipping smoothly through the stone jungle of the night city. How odd… I can hear the wind and talk to it! Maybe I’m going crazy? But it’s even better for me… Your present state has opened not only your eyes, but also your ears! the wind laughed in reply. "Are you talking to me again?! Don’t be angry with me, my friend, but now I’ll take my phone, dial several numbers, and we’ll be treated with you in