Something of mine

 I don`t care about their different thoughts
 Different thoughts are good for me.
 Tanita Tikaram, « Twist on my sobriety»
 
 A man…is a whole world.
 F.M.Dostoevsky.

 It`s an early november evening. I`m returning home. Heavy snow, so unusual for this period of the month, is obstinately falling on the ground. There is something curious and puzzling in such really charming and magical white way. Along the streets are luminous lampposts, but it`s easy to notice that this incessant stream of the headlights of automobiles lights the road much better than any lanterns. My eyes constantly wish to close. I am exhausted. Through the window I see an ordinary street in an ordinary provincial city. People are hurrying along the pavements, even without noticing each other. People, people are just the same here and now as anywhere and in any season. At that time they aren`t simply dressed in light printed summer clothes , but wrapped in those fashionable coloured scarves and suede boots. The rest is the same, I am sure. Everyone is with his own ideas, senses, hopes, abilities, experiences, prejudices and salts of life( if there are any at all). However, I can`t see the world inside them, I `m able only to stare at their indifferent faces and appearances, which often show nothing of their nature.
 …I really want to relax at that moment. I shut my eyes. But I can`t keep from thinking…Why do people think? Sometimes I wonder…Perhaps it`s so easy just to go somewhere, work, meet some friends, eat, go to bed…But! It`s unreal. Sometimes I understand one can really happy only without thinking. There is a simple recepy of felicity in this world, as my acquaintance said: «To think too much is harmful, not to think at all- more harmful». How hard is to follow it and find this desirable «golden middle»! Practically always the reason of all our problems is thoughts, our eternal wish to consider matters over and over in mind. We simply often invent them by means of our own brain! And that is all.
 But what is it? I`ve caught a moment of complete stillness in my head and now enjoy it for a few seconds. I look at the window. The snow seems to be artificial white tinsel from some misshapen dream, and I am ready to fly into infinity… But no, it`s an illusion. Another chain of thoughts floods me and I, unable to resist, submit to it again…

November 2006