Yana Varshavskaya - Very bad English / Очень плохой English

Taska is reasonable.

Moreover, she reasons sensibly. And at some point, she can refuse everything, because she believes that these are not the options. And then she patiently waits for the stars to come together in the correct sequence to promise her something for which, perhaps, it was worth waiting so long… After all, if you think about it, we all feel different.

I've always believed that the expression «Studying the world through senses» belongs to Immanuel Kant…

But no!

It turns out that Epicurus spoke about this in the third century ВС!

For some people, the world is just a decoration for their own game. Or, like Epicurus said:

«Some prepare their livelihoods for their entire lives…»

The pompous and egoistic Narcissus directed all his abilities and skills only toward the achievement of one goal: creating maximum comfort for his own living in this favorable world…

He simply didn't care about what other small characters feel in this performance.

But nature takes revenge on such people, cruelly robbing them of sensations, making them flat and blurry like reflections in the water…

They always lack the volume and colors, and throughout their lives they are haunted by subtle and eluded memories of smells and sensations from childhood, when the soul still remembered something else…

«It is better to endure some suffering in order to enjoy great pleasures; it's useful to refrain from certain pleasures so as not to endure more severe suffering…» This aphorism is also taken from Epicurus philosophy.

But sensitive creatures like Taska see the world differently.

It shines with billions of faces and shades, filled with magical sounds. You can go crazy trying to describe this beauty, each time picking up some exquisite metaphors and comparisons.

Taska manages to do that.

She manages to do that without much anguish and effort. As easy as breathing. I promised her to publish a poetry collection, but she waived my words aside… She does not have the courage to declare herself, or she simply does not attach much importance to what she writes…

But I am delighted!

Let's take a category like pain…

How can you describe in unusual words or, resorting to specific terminology, in a way that it sounds like poetry? Quite difficult.

What else can I say?

Taska is an expert!

January 23, 2015.

Friday.

I suddenly remembered how we met…

Of course, it was not all of a sudden.

After all, tomorrow is your birthday! And we owe this acquaintance to my precious sister, who was returning from another country and decided to pass the time between flights with me.

It was our second meeting with Taska after my mom and I moved to St. Petersburg.

I was in a hurry to the airport, and I had to miss two classes. But when I arrived, it turned out that Taska's flight arrived with a two-hour delay. I just wanted a cup of coffee…

You stood there, waiting for your espresso. I haven't seen your face yet, but for some reason (what a nonsense!) I wanted to snuggle up to your back, hug you and die from the tenderness that suddenly surged over and was completely inexplicable.

Although you can explain everything. It's just instinct worked faster than reason.

It was only later that I put everything in order and decided that at that moment my subconscious mind capitulated to the fact that if there was really something left of animals in us, it was the ability to choose partners by smell.

I came close indecently, and when you turned to me, I realized that I was lost forever. Perhaps you also understood everything and just played along with me…

But all this looked quite plausible: you looked into my eyes, and the cup of coffee, balancing on the saucer, could not resist to fall to my feet. I involuntarily bit my lower lip, so as not to scream.

«Does it hurt?» You asked.

«Not much. But I'm sorry about the shoes!» I answered.

«You won't believe it, but this is the first time with me! I'm so clumsy!» You exclaimed, looking at my red suede pumps. Dark brown splashes have now been absorbed, and turned into ugly stains with small grains of black coffee.

«As far as I understand, there's no use in cleaning them…»

«Probably,» I sighed.

«My name is Igor!»

«Eva,» I answered.

«Eva? Really? Cool! I owe you shoes, at least… And coffee, if you don't mind?»

«I don't. Anyway, I'm here to meet my sister and I have a lot of time…»

How many years have passed since then?… It seems that all this happened yesterday!

And if it weren't for our boys, I could swear it was yesterday!

Tomorrow you will be thirty, Styopa and Daniel are seven! Who could know you were born on the same day! There are three men in the house and all are birthday people!

Mom always sympathizes with me, thinking that on this day I fulfill all your whims…

Of course, I will give you your, no, my favorite perfume, Baldessarini… The very one that I felt in the coffee house when I met you…

Taska is smart.

She has a whole classification of meetings:

1. Fateful meetings…

2. Meetings that do not oblige to anything and leave a kind of bright sadness…

3. Meetings that you remember all your life, but nothing can be changed for a number of reasons…