will be a time when you will ask me, what happened to me, what I did all these years, and why I became such a person. There remained only pieces from former me. Time has scattered them everywhere. And then they have simply broken up. They were so fragile. Fragile as a human soul. wanted to disappear from all it. I was eaten by sadness. Sadness on the past. On people of a gold epoch. On those people whom I saw there, in the sea. Their gold curls on a wind, their confident sight, their kindness, boldness, courage - and the most important - honour.always seemed to me, that the most dear thing on the earth is honour. Or, the truth. But now, when I became the hostage of own honesty and valour, I walk alone and think, that all this is in vain. You can reach nothing - in fact you the person of gold time, with gold heart and pure soul. You never will manage to become another person as you have come absolutely from other world. It seemed, that someone has left you here, for a while. By any ridiculous mistake you have appeared here, the sweet child in time. missed all this. All these years I wandered on sea coast pending people of a gold epoch. They often dreamed to me. Their infinite castles in the skies. Their magnificence. Iridescent paints were so poured, that they seemed the polar lights. There, in dreams I always came back in that far, the half-forgotten world. And in the morning I again came back here, in this world full of sadness, and injustice.always was in the contradiction with this world. I could not find the necessary approach to this life in any way. And I have not learned to adapt to a harm of this world. For I trusted, that people of gold time will come, and I should remain pure, that gold of my heart has prompted them how to find me. My heart should serve a light-house. That ship should come for me. Sooner or later. I so trusted in it. I so hoped. I could not be more in this world, where all is against you. Where I would not go, I shall come across a blank wall of indifference. The artist dies, when the only one color is black around him. of local hearts, hypocrisy - always gave a terrible sound. I never saw, that here laughed with pure sonorous laughter. The laughter which cures, and conquers. , to understand all this world, I should become same. But I did not wish to give in to all this. I wished to struggle and trust that time of gold people will come at last. And in some time there will be peace in my soul. There will be a time when all of us shall return to the past. And there will be a time when that ship will take away me to the far world where I shall be necessary to somebody. There, beyond horizon, I shall be far from this world where sadness governs. Infinite and cold, as coming late autumn.

/22/2005