A barrier. Dedicated to Diana MagnaySky

Христин Дичоса

I had a ridiculous feeling tonight, as if I was in the gaping mouth of a predatory beast...so clearly and distinctly I felt someone's close breathing....
I walked around the apartment for a long time, went out on the balcony...there is no escape.

It's a feeling of loneliness it was piercing and sharp, like a dagger blade. Slowly, like a huge caterpillar, a wild horror crept into my apartment. It was as if, tied to a chair by an invisible rope, I could neither escape from this horror, nor stop, nor crush this horror.

Loneliness overtook me suddenly, trying to pin me down near my synthesizer by the window.. I understood that the most reasonable and the only thing that can help me now is to be among people... it's enough just to listen to live human speech for a few minutes to come to my senses..Who can I call now and just talk to?

The sky is dark, and there is an indescribable silence. Not silence, but an incredible silence that swallowed me up like a pit. I feel like I'm in a strange vacuum.such silence..it's like the silence has eaten (had penetrated) into my beige window curtains.

I barely found the strength to break out of this feeling, his grip.I rushed out the door, forgetting to turn off the light.Holding my breath, I immediately descended from my fourth floor and ran out into the street......

I got into my car.I breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly turned on the engine. The quiet rumble of the engine instantly calmed me down. I laugh at my stupidity and drive slowly down the street..I can't stop my chills, as if I was pulled out of the refrigerator.

The tires rustle softly and monotonously, like rain. I felt that I was no longer alone.I have a motor with me. It is in vain that this patient and unassuming creature is scolded for spewing stench.well, it spews, of course, but it does it decently. And not burping like people after sour wine and garlic.

my car, my only friend right now...inanimate, but faithful, assembled from steel parts, wires, pieces of iron.my car, how many times are you saving me?! I like to drive a car at night through deserted streets and boulevards, along which the wind drives every paper litter. Although more often I walk at night slowly.

By nature, I am a closed person, even gloomy.my lips are always tightly compressed.I know I endear(win over)myself to people, but I don't understand why.
Passers-by often address me, especially women. Sometimes I pretend that I don 't hear that I was approached and asked something
(I often walk around with headphones in my ears and pull a baseball cap over my eyes to become invisible to everyone, but it doesn't help).

and often passersby try to touch me so that I slow down my pace, stop, look at them, answer their question, tell them the way...and especially annoying passers-by (when they ask how to get somewhere and where some house is located) when they realize that we are going in the same direction, they go along with me and lure me with their stupid conversations...

People tire me, I don't like to be with them for a long time. I'm not afraid of people, I'm not afraid of communication, I have no phobias at all. It seems that silent people, only sometimes utter a caustic paradox, arouse more interest. than the funny wits that my ex-wife surrounded me with.

You can expect anything from women, I understood that for sure.as from my wife. Maybe my ex-wife is regretting it now,; what she did..but I never go back to the people who betrayed me. She was too infantile and irresponsible, always imposing her lifestyle on me.
she really liked things, just things, even the ones she doesn't use..and the more the better...and they are lying and gathering dust.. and I don't like anything superfluous. I have only what I use at home.

I was driving in the car and thought that I would not play my music tonight that I composed during the day. I don't work well in daylight and generally I don't like clear sunny weather.for real; I can perceive my music only at night or on a cloudy day when the bright glare of the sun does not hurt my eyes...

I was driving and thinking about you, Diana..about your face..what an expressive face you have!Diana, your face can be read like a book.
and you are unlikely to hide deeply from me what you care about...

I was thinking about your cherry lips, about your sunny hair, about your light breathing, about your velvet eyebrows..I was thinking about your golden complexion with beautiful freckles....

I knew where I needed to drive my car now..only there they will help me and nowhere else....