Книга - PAR-Tea-S

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PAR-Tea-S
Elena Sinitsyna


The text is a�funny mind reading of�an ex conservatory student. The time when your Internet access is off is probably the best opportunity to�deal a�mess with your head and heart.





PAR-Tea-S



Elena Sinitsyna


Riddle me this: Why is a�raven like a�writing desk?�� Lewis Carroll



��Elena Sinitsyna,�2017



ISBN�978-5-4485-0247-7

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Part�1

NONFORMAT


I�have small candles. You know, such tiny tin jars, filled with paraffin. Every evening when I�open the cover of�my laptop, seedy in�long journeys, I�take one of�these candles out of�the small box which is on the piano, set fire and with the abrupt movement put it down in�a�house-lantern with holes cut through its sides. I�like to�type, drooping my head towards the flaming candle, looking from time to�time at the lively fire, because it has the natural riot of�thoughts and images essence, which the pale flicker of�the computer�s screen is totally deprived of. At least, this is my opinion and there�s no need to�be agree with.

It has been almost the circadian since there is no Internet in�our district. Just think�� twenty times of�sixty minutes, but I�am aching all over, tighting and curling up owing to�the impossibility to�escape from this uncivilized city, virtually at least. This is an illusion but I�like millions of�users stretch hands for it every morning, pressing on the start-bottom of�the comp. I�want it, I�eager for it because I�desire to�receive, to�be with it, to�be it self� what is�IT?

WHAT is it? What IS it, if loosing it I�don�t find any place for myself, dashing between rooms and kitchen, poking bottoms of�the TV set remote control; either rarely trying to�drop off to�sleep, wrapped up in�a�rug or diving into the near-empty fridge.

Books become arid and tedious, they simple turns my stomach. When it all comes down, everything is read. Everything of�there�s at home is read off. Actually, I�ought to�visit library but I�can�t be bothered, and to�buy in�the shop is costly. True, something could be printed at home but then the sense of�the book disappears and its content transmutes into the text, into composition of�A4 size. But I�don�t like this size. It is truly to�say I�hate it sufficiently. Apparently there is an effect of�the endless educational process, in�which I�was involved by�the system. Every year you do write, invent heaps of�ideas, endeavor to�fix your thoughts on paper, defend all these essays and projects, degree works and research thesis of�every sort and kind�� and what for? For some years somebody will discard them sluggishly as useless sorting dusty folders? But in�this dust�� your dust�� my thoughts are! My ideas, my expectations, for your please, as you like. Eventually my soul! But tutors need proper format, distance from sign to�sign, punctuation, and violation could be always a�very good reason to�cut down pass marks, to�trample an individual; to�humble for execution, for format or more precisely for non-format.

The day before defence of�graduation project I�was taken the hint that there is no place for my name in�graduation list. Oh, what a�night I�went through then! New-unrestricted, in�a�grayish hanging haze above the trembling lake� the water fragrance� Then slow-to-grasp morning and the bustling-dazzling day� but full of�joy and the boundless scope� For the first time in�my life I�refused to�fight, to�overcome, to�prove and to�strive; to�achieve to�be fit. To�fit other standards, but not my own. Non-Format. You are not the form. Form-no-t� No time and no form� Thank goddess, hallowed�be!�




Part�2

Buddha


There�s just one trouble�� the absence of�Internet. Even tea doesn�t cure for situation. The story goes Buddha was fond of�tea, or his followers were�� that guys that preached his teaching. As a�matter, as we all are Buddhas per se and we like tea thus it tells its own tale�� Buddha did like tea too. If I�like tea it means I�am Buddha too. Surely one should be a�complete idiot imagining oneself as the Prince Siddhartha who is reborn nowadays next time in�turn for the sake of�all the living beings are well and happy. Because a�prince isn�t Buddha, but Buddha is the Prince. As for me, I�am neither the prince or even the princess. I�am a�Buddha because I�like tea too (or that�s why). We are united by�this fact which means, I�am Buddha too barely do not make aware of�it. And Gipsy women in�the market�� they are Buddhas too because they like tea as well. Yet� to�be honest I�don�t know what Gypsies like. I�don�t know who they are�� at all, because since childhood we have been taught to�be afraid of�them. But I�think that if there is a�strong probability of�they may like tea as well, there is no need to�be afraid of�them, because they are Buddhas too, and as well as we they are do not assume it (neither everyone does). Somebody may suppose; may guess.

I�also like the cold retreats when candles burn. February cold beyond the window of�the flat and the electrical cold of�the screen window, which is opened into some other mock-bright reality, draws back facing alive fire. The reality, sure, is not bright in�generally; nor that nor this, even online, i.e. on line. On thread, thin linen thread like silk that I�will never wear�� I�am not the prince or even the princess. I�am Buddha. And Buddhas don�t wear silk. Buddhas wear garments of�virtue and enlightenment. Indeed, I�wear jeans gifted by�good soul, long-sleeves T-shirt-wingspan, a�sweater on the point of�warming bad and shaggy-soft socks. There is, surely underclothing but there�s not necessary to�mention, because it is quite clear: Prince Siddhartha didn�t wear such an attire but silk and become the Buddha. But is this a�reason? Would I�get a�Buddha state if I�do not have garbs which Siddhartha was wearing? True, it was told that Buddha was living like a�hermit and only after that became a�Buddha. But I�am not a�hermit nevertheless but want to�be Buddha. Still I�only don�t see why, but the wish exists.

If that prince had Internet, would he become a�Buddha, I�wonder?




Part�3

I�like�


I�like Johnny�Depp

I�like�milk

I�like when doves�coo

I�like blue color

I�like the fragrance of�spring

I�like�mum

I�like to�live

I�like to�suffer (I�should to�admit it whenever)

I�like to�love

I�like to�love (yes, once more)

I�like myself




Part�4

I�don�t like�


I�don�t like Quentin�Tarantino�s movies

I�don�t like blood

I�don�t like when somebody is warming-up the car under my window

I�don�t like loneliness

I�don�t like the fume from the factory

I�don�t like those who I�don�t know, but if I�don�t like those who I�know, it is their fault

I�don�t like to�not-live

I�don�t like to�suffer

I�don�t like to�be mistaken

I�don�t like to�make mistakes with people (am I�not a�human?)

I�don�t like my own reflections




Part�5

It doesn�t matter to�me�


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No,

It is a�matter to�me



YES!

IT IS A�MATTER TO�ME!!!




Part�6


To�sleep



Internet has not been connected�yet.



***turn off***




Part�7


***turn on***



THE SOVEREIGN OF�THE�TIME





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