I dont need information

[Author]
Klim Panfilow

[Translators]
Klim Panfilow
Elena Ignatova


Please, don't touch my shoulder, I need to tell about it just now. And then to hang up a stone on the note's neck and to drown it in a chasm of the Network. Only some minutes, it's quite short, and I shall return to caress of your hands.

Some minutes… A part of the time. It is so, yes, and I feel more and more often a strange state when I throw a fleeting sight on a watch and for some seconds I can not realize what these figures mean… Sometimes I can not catch for a long time a sense of the phrases told by someone. The most simple phrases… "It is fine today, isn't it?" – but what does it mean… Short circuit, here that it… A small earthquake in my head that I feel every night, and something slowly dies inside me… Terrible sensation of the tense string which any minute can burst. And what will be then?...

I don't know.

My broken state is boundless as another's sufferings, my anxiety is endless as the unread news, and the whirlwind of the dreams which are not mine wanders near the windows in the nights. The unknown people sit down in the fast trains and leave very far to increase distance.

Rescuing oneself in some fragments with the help of convenience of the modern technologies it is possible to feel energy of the friend, charm of the unfamiliar girls which send letters in far and impatiently look forward to response. And here, on this end of the tunnel, a rusty android still capable to compose clear lines accepts the messages.

What are you? Come to me in the cold evening – we shall drink some hot coffee. I shall be glad to see you, to hear your ringing voices. Well, so you? Tell a little bit about yourselves… It is interesting to me as the life lasts and what you could see in it.
Tell me what happens in your life. In the life which is only yours, constantly yours…

And I don't want to know what occurs behind the window in my space of this end of the tunnel. Forget at home posters and newspapers. It became too heavy to translate the chaos of symbols into the suitable sense.

I don't need «information».

Coffee and cookies, wine or mate, songs or whisper. Games and embraces, glances and touches, breath and kisses. It is pity that it is impossible to allow it to last for a long time – a wall always occurs. Between and around. But what then?..

Though… I can predict something. That once, having awakened at night, I shall see the figures which are unfamiliar already forever, and I shall accept embraces of the spring which are cold as in winter…