I am writing to you with the hope that you will someday read this message of mine.
However, this is not even a message, but a report on my life on the Island.
Why report?
Because I have been having an unhurried conversation with you all the time.
Not even a conversation, but a monologue.
And you answer me with the warmth that I feel from you.
Nevertheless, I would like a real dialogue, but this is an unrealistic dream.
And so, I will tell you what I do, where I go, what I do,
and I will have the illusion that you hear me and participate in my life.
I settled on the island for a long time, maybe for a week or a half.
The need for my presence here is due to the presence of dogs (and cats) that need to be fed.
Yes, there are still fish.
So, I’m their breadwinner.
and a walker (I mean dogs).
I think about you all the time
incomparable mine Elizabeth Petrovna.
How are you there without me!
Although you’ve never been with me,
only in dreams.
The weather is warm and dry.
Sushi, I would say, is great.
Plants on the site die.
Dry and wither.
I try to save them, but without water it's hard to do, but I dodge.
But there is no water, because the pear at the motor has leaked out, and the motor turns on too quickly, and if watering from the hose, it generally fails.
Dogs cough. This is such a bronchitis infection.
The neighboring dogs also cough, and Natasha K., the leader of the dogs,
comes and gives them a weak antibiotic.
She tried to entrust this matter to me, but I refused, since I myself am not treating myself, and even more so with dogs.
When you think of me, I feel it (or it seems to me that I feel, and this is my imagination).
The thought is material. She wrote this maxim, but what does it mean?
What is Thought? Well, energy, so what? How does she get so targeted?
Maybe my thoughts reach you in the form of energy?
Can you read thoughts?
I think that you just own it.
You are generally a person of unearthly origin, because your magnetism is of such a special property that you attract.
I, certainly, was attracted.
And there's nothing to be done about it. You seem to be inside me ..
But then it turns out that I pulled you ..
In general, everything is incomprehensible.
And yesterday I went to the store in the village for dog food.
I intended to buy paws or a head, or a neck (chicken, of course), but there was nothing on sale, and there was only minced chicken for 150 rubles.
I was weighed in the shackles of this stuffing (ice cream). It turned out more than 200 rubles, I did not count on such an amount, barely scraped.
But now there is food, both for me and the cats (they don’t eat minced fish - I’m joking so much).
Dogs are all different.
Filia jumps over the fence, and hangs around, anywhere.
Yesterday, when I went to the store, she jumped over the fence and stuck behind me.
Because of this, I went through the forest, and not along the road where the cars are.
In fact, I would have gone through the forest anyway, but I’m dumping it on Phil so as to justify.
I have a special relationship with the Forest, and again the Stream.
I already told my people: when I die, burn and develop in the forest and over the stream.
Then she thought, why bother going to the forest, and got better: develop even where, at least on the site, and so it will do.
The dogs staged a concert tonight, and not just a concert like jazz,
and hysterically howling with wheezing and barking alternately.
They were hysterical for a long time, then they seemed to quiet down, and again at 7 in the morning (or maybe I was sleeping and not hearing, but woke up at 7)
Dog guard Natasha K. could not stand it and came to find out what was happening.
It turned out that they reacted like that to a hedgehog.
Natasha K. took this hedgehog and threw it over the fence.
The wall in my attic on the second floor, consisting of sliding wooden panels, painted by me once again, hints at me to change the painting.
Ask how?
Yes, very simple. Through my drawings physiognomies and outlines of people, animals and so on began to appear.
So it's time to redraw.
I do this regularly, with a periodicity of half a year, a year. how to ripen.
and the aggressive wings of butterflies began to tire, and the fact that they are large (half a wall).
To say that I miss you would be wrong.
I really miss.
and this is not entirely true.
I reflect on you. Calmly, not biased.
Evening, so upset, cried badly.
The silence on my Island helps to hear Myself, that is, Soul.
A recitative recently went here: I am the Soul .., I am the Soul .., I am the Soul .., I ...
..... and as soon as I said it,
I began to stagger and shake in all directions and bend me and unbend (in a word, fuck).
Bio location, however ..
"I am the bride of Christ
push off the threshold .. "This I quote my long-standing poem published in Poem for you
one more thing
Holy revelation
presented to me from above
I every moment
I hear the voice of the universe ..
Do you remember? Also in Poem for you
I solemnly called Medeya there.
Granddaughter of Helios, by the way.
Well, I have a complicated relationship with you there.
Sorry, I was distracted.