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(The novel, a fragment)
It is devoted to innocent victims
Psychiatric terror, and also
To lonely people and stray dogs
THE COMMENT OF THE INTERMEDIARY
The mentioned below manuscript has got to me under strange circumstances.
In word Russian "strange" and "terrible" are very similar — should
To be, it is not casual. The difference in one letter sometimes corresponds
To imperceptible change in sensations. The mood, an environment then changes,
Perception, eventually, all life. About one year I balanced on the verge
Between strange and terrible — and at regular intervals received
Letters... Ostensibly of the hero of the novel "Die or disappear!". Actually it
It is difficult to name the hero. We will tell so: from the character who has appeared zhivee all
The live.
The first letter has come after four months after a book exit. An envelope
Was self-made, stuck together of sheet of a writing paper not better quality. On
Him fragmentary handwriting had been deduced the address of publishing house and my surname. The letter
Intended for transfer. In an envelope corner was available hardly appreciable
The signature: "Max". Strange, but any kind (or malicious? — Already not
I know, as to think) the angel who was engaged in correspondence, has fairly executed the
Job — and the letter all the same has got to destination.
I will not retell its maintenance. Somebody (then I was absolute
It is assured of that, what is it someone's pridurkovataja hohma) tried to convince me in
Existence of the person which I also have thought up. Moreover: from the letter
Followed, that this person is there where I have left it in an epilogue of the
Books, — in a place, frankly speaking, unattractive.
In the first letter yet was not words about the help. Only descriptions
The hospital life, any painful conditions, psychodelic images,
Illusory visitings etc., etc. Well and there are some reproaches. It is a little muffled
Threats. Absolutely slightly... I have thrown out that letter and I can not already prove
Even to itself, that all it has not dreamt me. Here only a little
Characteristic fragments from it (I result on memory, softening the text):
"Greetings, the fellow countryman, your mother! Thanks, of course, that has hidden
Me in a mental hospital, but is better you would not do it, and have allowed to Victor to shoot down
Us with Irkoj! A good refuge, tender hospital attendants (I name them
"Dobermann terriers"), with women, the truth, naprjazhenka — therefore the majority
Ours fuck itself in a toilet. Well, it is those who and all the rest can
To do independently. Is also such which cannot, is a meat for
"Dobermann terriers". They strongly irritate hospital attendants, but all piece that
Those like meat. It is desirable, with blood.
And still these creatures like the power — let even over oligofrenami! Will come
Such fat muzzle, teeth klatsaet, ruchishchi hairy, from a mouth spirit, as from
Garbage can... Well also begins. The kindest manage clicks and
Clips. It at them the friendly reference. About speech I any more do not speak —
It is possible to write the encyclopaedia of nonconventional sex. And after all they can be understood —
Really unpleasantly for someone dung to clean. Hate ours "dobery"
This job, but come. Again and again. Some times in day. In general,
"The song remains former"... The Power! It to you, children, not jokes. It
More abruptly any sex. Especially, if at you any more does not cost.
However, somehow time, during beating of babies, I observed erektsiju
At one of "Dobermann terriers". It was excited, rubbish, from surplus of feelings. So who
From us the patient?!.
... Good, the fellow countryman, excuse — to be uttered it would be desirable, and to be pulled about not with
Whom. Neighbours in the chamber (that is, chamber) it is not counted; with them at me unwritten
The nonproliferation treaty. You wish to know, that? All that dung, that
Accumulates in a head. Second after a second. Minute behind a minute. Hour after an hour.
Day after day. An incessant rain from dung... And so four years.
Speak, it a little. I do not know. I have already forgotten, as spring air smells,
Also I see a sunlight only through dirty glass. I do not remember taste of port,
Let alone female caresses. Recently the dream dreamt me... No, about it in
Other time.
... Is better you would hide. Soon they will find me. And when will find,
Will want to learn, whence you knew about my affairs. Both about Irku. And about
Klein. And about slepogluhonemogo the boy. And, of course, about IT. The Hardware-s-s!
I am silent, I am silent, I am silent. Better to me to keep silent about it. Otherwise once at night... "
And further in the same spirit. In the manuscript all it is stated much
More in detail. I result it in a primordial form, not having changed a uniform line.
Let's excuse to the poor creature extremism of judgements and roughness of expressions — for the loony it
It is still delicate enough. By the way, now I am not assured not so that it
Really loony.
Then letters began to come with a marvellous regularity — on one in
Month. Twelve letters for a year. That who is interested in an astrology, I can
Somehow to show escaped eleven — it is possible, here is any
Communication (anyway, mentions of the Zodiac in them are available). To me was
Not before.
Already the second letter contained such details about my intim
And Max imagined intim, that I have understood: someone has reached mine
pechenok. Certainly, not that guy with hoofs in the varnished shoes, trading
At retail at crossroads. And not the duke from "Die or disappear!". To me still
It was not terrible. Know, how it begins: the easy chill which has run
On a back, a para-three of night nightmares... Florets in comparison with that
It was necessary to go through later.
The third, fourth, fifth letter. Then I still worked. Being expressed
Technical language, "saved working capacity". Ability I
Saved, but here to write (the accent on the second syllable) became all
More difficultly. And the main thing, is no need. The hunting which has begun on pages of the book,
Proceeded in reality. To tell about it it is senseless. Further will be
Clearly from Max manuscript, including, and how it has appeared at me.
One more remark: described Golikovym hospitals, apparently, not
Exists. Anyway, I have enquired and have not found out in Kharkov
Anything similar. In the manuscript are available obvious nestykovki with surrounding me
The validity. Probably, Max is in another, deformed
Realities — and then it is last joke which has played with it
Klein's mysterious "preparation".
I try to forget about unsoluble while questions. For example, about letters.
Who actually wrote them and how they got to me?. Therefore, trying
To save the common sense and orderliness rests (let even to someone
Will seem, it is what is it simple one more mystification), I am diligent
Has numbered pages, produbliroval everyone on "copier", was not too lazy
To give footnotes, to clear, whence this pseudo-maks "scooped inspiration".
To put it briefly, has improved a pack which part represents the cut
From a roll and clumsily used up sheets of a toilet paper. The general name too I
Has thought up — certainly, little bit pretentious, but there's nothing to be done: all of us,
Scribblers, such — is liked to show off...
I finish this, in effect, useless job and I pack the manuscript
In the big envelope for sending. To whom? I do not know... Perhaps, it is better to burn?
Someone asserts, that manuscripts do not burn, — it is a high time to check up it.
While I potter with a paper, I listen "Dorz". Morrison shouts: "Run
With me! "Everything, is time to run. Max, where you?!. Children, if you still
Have not understood, I repeat: REALLY it is time to RUN!
...
The SHORT INQUIRY: Golikov Maxim Aleksandrovich, 1963 of a birth,
It is single, children are not present, without certain employment. The diagnosis at receipt:
agorafobija *, onejroidnaja katatonija **, imperative distortion of perception
With transformation galljutsinatornogo a syndrome in jet paranoidnyj ***.
Now takes place strongly pronounced amnestichesky a syndrome ****
With steady konfabuljatsijami *****.
* Agorafobija — fear of open spaces.
** Onejroidnaja katatonija — the phenomenon of a stupor with wax flexibility,
Observed at a schizophrenia or symptomatic and organic
Psychoses. Consciousness obscuring has character of dreams with the fantastic
Experiences and radical change of perception.
*** Jet paranoidnyj the syndrome — arises under the influence of the factor
External conditions (often mismatching depth of reaction) and
It is characteristic delirium of prosecution, sensation of danger of death,
Exclusive suspiciousness, occurrence visual and acoustical
Hallucinations. Sometimes leads to the expressed changes of the person.
**** Amnestichesky syndrome — psychopathological simptomokompleks,
In which the leading place is occupied with memory frustration. Usually
It is observed at organic defeats of a brain.
***** Konfabuljatsii — presence of memoirs on the events which were not occurring on
The business.
PART THE FIRST
THE PATIENT
1
Greetings to you, free!
Has definitively run into marasmus and has started to look for an epigraph for the
Literary trash. Books at me only two, and those have appeared here casually.
To read to us do not resolve — probably, want, that we realised the Zen.
Therefore fruitless intellectual exercises to me to what. Direct harm
For my crystal-clear soul.
Actually, "Dobermann terriers" have honesty rummaged my linen and
Bedside table (should be, searched for "wheels" or a grub), have taken away a pack
"dirola" which to me has presented Frosts, but books have for some reason left.
porzhali, of course, over the fool, but have left. Badly watch, swine. And after all
I heard what to kill the person it is possible also an envelope corner, if the nobility, where
To strike. By the way, at my Edgara Li Masters such firm sharp
Corners...
Good, not there me has incurred. We will begin at first. An epigraph:
... And when me have let out,
I have suddenly understood, that a life — prison,
And the best, on what it is possible to hope, —
It is clever and kind the neighbour on камере.*
* Edgar Li Masters. "New Spun-River". Sergey Sergeeva's transfer.
Greetings once again!
My neighbours in chamber it is difficult to name clever and kind. Itself to that
Too I do not rank. To esteem my case record and the list of mine enough
"Kind" affairs — all becomes clear at once.
By the way, one of neighbours now my colleague. The artist of a feather, its mother...
It was added. In my opinion, absolutely normal muzhik, only zatsiklen on
"To national idea". To communicate with it it is possible, while conversation will not concern
This "idea". Then it leaves itself(himself). In literal sense. Was
The person — also is not present. Somewhere left. Wait, will be later.
With the others is even worse. At a door usually is based SHura the Frosts, were
The watchman. A lexicon corresponding. Fifty eight years. Unmarried.
Already. Has finished off an axe of children. Like certain Delberta Grejdi in
Stephen King's "light". Read? Stanley Kubrika's film saw? Just about:
Girls bloody in eyes and so on... However, SHura, the swine such,
It did not begin to be shot, as Grejdi, and has switched on the fool, yes so it is successful, that on
This day is considered almost the walking grant on psychopathology. "Dobery"
It almost do not touch, and grannies from a dining room frankly are rather afraid (to these
Time I do not understand, where it managed "dirol" to get — not differently, has regretted
Someone). But it has moved seriously, differently it here did not hold. Absolutely
It is safe. Activity — a zero. Aggressions too. The grandfather the Frost, and only.
It is a pity, that without the Snow Maiden... Talks tenderly so, silently. With me likes
Softly to talk, the childhood rural, barefoot recollects...
To me that talk I, of course, can, but as I will imagine children
Chopped up — a frost on a skin and loathing such, that to pure and smooth
SHurinyh pads I can not touch...
Four children from "Menstrualnogo a cycle" are products
Maniacal rock'n roll, kondovogo granzha. And, without fools. Group
At them such was, there, on an ox, and they were absolutely untied
Morons. The finished nihilists and antipublic men. From what
With bread do not feed — allow to shout "fak off!" At the slightest pretext. Brakes
At them it is, of course, small, but the most important remained: to be still want. On
It them also have caught.
Here they, in my opinion, because of drugs have got. Tell nothing,
Are silent. Someone of children has strong frightened or on a hook holds. Any they not
Loonies — ordinary illness of leftism. The heavy teenage form. But
izlechimaja. In their mental hospital have hidden, it is clear as day. In general, similar, to it
Here is quieter. Durashki — think, that will long live! Naive, and I
Same. Klevye children. They like me. Would like even more, if
It here horns not pooblamyvali. And so — everything, were blew off, do not shout any more. And
Freedom, it appears, less lives like. Correctly, skin is more expensive.
One of them, Edik, on a nickname Sweaty, has declared recently: "We will go
Another by! "I listened to it, but thought here of what: for the first time for two years
He has said four words successively and among them — any abusive!
For it it was really outstanding achievement. But then Sweaty
Has got rid on all. Long spoke. Something there about trahannom the state,
trahannyh borzopistsah (it it about our "Dostoevsky"), trahannyh
Woodcutters (it about Morozova), trahannom granzhe and the trahannoj to a head,
In which already keeps nothing...
All "MTS" has not died nearly with laughter. We with their drummer,
Karlushej, laughed so loudly, that SHuru have woken. That has looked at us
With light reproach. As if a sad dog, really! Well as such
You will offend? It was necessary to shut up, while SHura "Dobermann terriers" has not called...
I will finish about morons. They and now, it is possible to tell, play and sing.
Basically, knock remained teeth, clap ears and times
Shout from a pain. Bums too participate in concerts. And all that is why:
"dobery" very much do not like figures from "MTS" and quite often them beat.
Name "long-haired morons" though long hair are not present and in
pomine. But such at them, at "Dobermann terriers", psychology. Hate all
Not clear. Also rush... Therefore I try myslishki poor not
To advertise, love to rock'n roll not to find out. Sometimes, at night,
Quietly we fray with irreconcilable "menstruatorshchikami" about "Lemon
Heads "," the Hole "," Nine-inch nails ". When SHura sleeps. Is
The suspicion, that it, a dog vile, taps. The correct son of the
The people. In something treatment has gone to it on advantage — all the same has returned on a way
The true...
But generally I, as Stirlitz, more old men like also their,
Old man music. On me, if absolutely hrenovo it is better "Studzhiz"
To listen. Dust from a head to unload. Such drive pret! Such gloom! Such
Suicide!. It is a pity, for a long time did not listen. Klein, the swine, has deprived of all. As
It is spoken, has made destitute and has disappeared. And me what now to do?! Without the magic
Klein's sugar candy, its mother so?!.
Good, it is necessary to take itself in hands. The despair is very close. There was one
Small short step — and any more I will not come up. I will not come up, children... Anybody me
Will not rescue... It is necessary to think of the good. Know, how in a song: "Think about good,
I can execute! "And who will execute, you, whether that? It is called" read
Also help! "Aha, now, have run up... Max, Maksulja, I ask you: think about
The good! Think, road, at me, except you, anybody is not present!.
To meditate, whether that? So that in general without thoughts... I Try again
And again. It does not turn out Yet. Perhaps, years through twenty I will find
Enlightenment. Before dying. However, if to believe all to these
To sacred children, for me it will not have any more any value. So,
Is for what to struggle. But all piece that this swine Victor will find
Me earlier.
I from those who was late.
For ever.
2
Morning. Behind a window the sun shines, and the first leaves are dismissed. The sky
Shrill as shout of the newborn, and I choke in the impenetrable
Armour of the melancholy, as if deep-water fish. I lay, looking on dark blue
The bottomless triangle, and in me still wanders a night dream. The dream has frightened me,
But the result of awakening frightens more strongly. Probably, it is fear before emptiness.
Did not think, that I can be afraid of something in this cage.
"Menstruatorshchik" on a nickname the Samurai has turned to me and asks:
— Max, you of that shouted at night, how a cock Hamburg?
What will I answer it? Has shrugged shoulders supposedly I do not remember. Actually I remember
Fine — such you will not soon forget...
Today Sunday, and "Dobermann terriers" do not hurry up. The first appears
About ten on my sundial. My cot costs near a wall, and
The solar beam creeps on this wall since a dawn in the forenoon. I have made hardly
Appreciable marks on a blue paint. The breakfast recognised that begins
In nine, and "St. Bernard" usually is exactly in twelve. Well and further,
As at school: children, break sector into three parts... Accuracy small,
In the winter and summer of a divergence, probably, huge, but hour here — hour there
For me has no value. Rubber time; dimensionless days and
Nights; seconds last, years fly... From eternal tikanja, distributed between
Ears, it is possible to go mad. Who would break a damned pendulum in my crock? All
It hren and overindulgence!
By the way, about "St. Bernard". So I have nicknamed the head physician of this prison
Mental hospitals for a majestic kind and loose-hanging cheeks. It seems, it the professor, and
Thus the swine the rare. Much more refined, than its sentry
Dogs. "Dobery" the chief secretly hate, as well as any shot with the ten-class
Education, let alone the higher. But are compelled to submit — to guzzle
It would be desirable. "St. Bernard", in turn, despises them and at conversation
Fastidiously bulges a lower lip. Eyes at it slezjatsja, and eyelids
Reddish and pripuhlye.
It is too solid and occupied by itself(himself) to come more often, however,
When it nevertheless happens, we deal with the phenomenon almost divine
Scale. Still: in his hands keys of our life and death. Well, freedom
Precisely. On it depends, to let out us from here sometime or to leave
To decay forever... He solves, you are healthy or is sick, dangerous or safe,
The person you or easier piece of meat. It — last instance. Therefore in it
Presence even the untied morons from "MTS" thrust the dirty languages
In the dirty bums also behave, as good boys.
But hardly it can help. "St. Bernard" is relentless and deprived emotions,
Precisely dead cow. It even ignores our questions... We for it like
White mice — our peep means nothing. So-so — reaction on
razdrazhitel... It studies our behaviour, depth of our degradation —
The white idol, full feelings of own superiority. Though about
What behaviour there can be a speech in this cage? The maniac can be approximate
The prisoner, and the normal person peregryzet to itself of a vein from a hopelessness.
Not each of us Boetsy, and not to everyone will allow to write "the Consolation
Philosophy ". At us to you would beat off kidneys, Boetsy, and any hunting
To philosophise...
The loneliness dements faster, than something another. You did not know?
The loneliness devastates, from it howl on the moon, it kills ability
To rejoice to simple things and to notice terrible changes. Once I knew
The lonely woman — it was ugly, and nobody wished even to sleep with
It. I, by the way, too. As she said, something dreamt it. "Something" was
Almost pleasant. She drank soothing, but it did not help. Eventually,
Dreams have finished it to not soaped cord.
Loneliness among people in which society I am compelled constantly
To be against the will, even worse, because such position
Unnaturally. It destroys the last, that at me remains — fragile
Walls of my person. In cities it occurs pretty often, therefore
Around it is so much alcoholics and psychopaths, it is so much eksgibitsionizma, it is so much
The bared aggression, so much a breaking up human fabric... Spiders,
Planted in bank, start to eat each other...
Again I not about that. I will describe only real, that is, that
It is impossible to change. But I cannot change myself — means, I am real? —
Also I can not change the thoughts — means, they too are real? About, if
Most black of my thoughts have turned to worms, a dragon, white
Bull terriers (lines, whence this whim?!) is there would be a small army
Generalissimo Max, and this army would clear for me road to freedom!.
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