Читать книгу The white wall - Aitan Bagirova - Страница 1

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“You are not of this world!” the mother exclaimed after what had happened today. Psyche again plunged into a soul blizzard and felt all the suffering that brings her everything what is outside of her consciousness. She closed the door of her room and decided to enter the dream world as soon as possible. Her room was simple and bright, with white walls that gave no hint of heroes or idols in her life. And to make it easier to sleep, she always opened the window.

Purity. Freshness. Simplicity. That's all she accepted and loved. But, unfortunately, all her efforts to bring a little piece of light to this world were not always crowned with success. It is not inherent in her to pass from one state of mind to another in the blink of an eye. She believed that such a quality in a person as flexibility, especially in such cases, is equivalent to such qualities as hypocrisy and spinelessness.

She couldn't sleep, and as usual, she was thinking and reflexing for a long time. And it seemed to her that everything was ephemeral, except for her eternal reflections, which brought her both the slightest notes of self-knowledge and a flurry of mental agony. And as always, she remembered the most vivid moments of the past day. Namely, the same poor dialogue with the successor of the mundane and consumer world, where people worship their animal instincts and limit themselves to pieces of the template mosaic that they call "life".

"Why don't you want to be with someone? This is not normal" – asked Melissa in such a tone, as if such concepts as the apotheosis of rationality and freedom do not exist, and she had never heard of such things and did not think about it.

"For some reason, I always thought it was pretty obvious. It's very simple. I'm not ready for a relationship. Neither spiritually, nor morally, nor physically," replied Psyche, hardly able to utter a single word. After all, she absolutely knew that all this was pointless. Explain to people who are trapped in their prosaic interests that relationships are not just about self-affirmation and social indulgence, and certainly not just about physical interaction. She was very sorry to have to waste her time and energy on such fruitless conversations, and to be a participant in verbiage.

"This is all so unusual and strange. Okay. Let’s go to a boutique? I got my eyes on something beautiful. You might like it and buy it yourself. We will wear the same dresses."

Melissa had no idea how much she was distorting Psyche's inner world and even to some extent hurting her pride by saying such words. "Shall we wear the same dresses?" thought Psyche to herself. It became obvious that a squabble between the two was inevitable…

When the mother found out about this quarrel, she did not support her daughter. Psyche knew perfectly well that this was what was going to happen, but it didn't hurt that her mother had almost never supported her or tried to understand her. Sometimes the attempts emerged from the insipid reservoir of her inner world. However, Psyche does not need this for a long time. And sometimes she scoffs at the fact that she once believed in the need for such a dubious source of her usefilness and self-confidence as someone's “support”