Свет в коце туннеля, конечно, где-то есть, вот только туннель, сука, не кончается...
Another day is coming again…. The same day as yesterday and the day before yesterday…. I am walk across and across the cell, trying to memorize each crack on ceiling, each wrinkle on my blanket, waiting for death…
Will it be a penalty or just a death? I don’t know, the same way as I don’t know why I am passing my last days, trying to keep in the mind the view of my cell. Maybe because both things are easier: it’s easier to call a murder -- a penalty, and it’s easier for me to think about life – not about death. But the thoughts about death come to me every morning, and by the afternoon I think, that I am ready to die… But the night comes again I am thinking about life and about those things that I could have done, if I hadn’t made that mistake…
Was it only one mistake that has brought me here, or were there some other ones? Maybe the first one was when I started smoking at 12?.. But the final mistake was fatal for me, because I’ve become a murderer. This mistake was not a simple one, as life and death are not simple either. And it’s all beyond the level of understanding, which people could reach. It’s the level of The God.
Dostoevsky has written that when he was standing on the scaffold, he suddenly saw another power, and another essence of things opened to him. So he understood the real reasons and the real answers. A man understands noting about the world during his life… but sometimes he understands a little bit just before his death.
Will it be a penalty or just a death? I don’t know, the same way as I don’t know why I am passing my last days, trying to keep in the mind the view of my cell. Maybe because both things are easier: it’s easier to call a murder -- a penalty, and it’s easier for me to think about life – not about death. But the thoughts about death come to me every morning, and by the afternoon I think, that I am ready to die… But the night comes again I am thinking about life and about those things that I could have done, if I hadn’t made that mistake…
Was it only one mistake that has brought me here, or were there some other ones? Maybe the first one was when I started smoking at 12?.. But the final mistake was fatal for me, because I’ve become a murderer. This mistake was not a simple one, as life and death are not simple either. And it’s all beyond the level of understanding, which people could reach. It’s the level of The God.
Dostoevsky has written that when he was standing on the scaffold, he suddenly saw another power, and another essence of things opened to him. So he understood the real reasons and the real answers. A man understands noting about the world during his life… but sometimes he understands a little bit just before his death.
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09.02.2008 в 11:31