Lies of closed eyes - Виктория Олеговна Рогозина страница 2.

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 I can let you write off, but I will not explain anything. Im not a tutor,  I offered the most painless option for myself. And then last time Vosmyachkin demanded an explanation of all thirty-two tasks and did not lag behind until they really sorted everything out. I remembered already shuddered, I would not want to repeat such an experience.

 Goes.

Shrugging my shoulders, I took out the right notebook from my backpack and gave it to my classmate.

Ill bring it in in the evening, he assured with an oath, after a little screening, observing a social distance, but thats not the point. Vosmyachkin, like the others, tried not to sit close to me, noticing that I liked solitude. I do not like being in society, but society is an integral part of our life, which is difficult to refuse in modern realities.

An iridescent bell marked the end of the break, and the students sat down together in their places, preparing to nibble on the granite of science. The religion of the world was taught to us by an elderly priest. Surprisingly, he could captivate students and almost immediately fell in love with everyone. Bishop Innokenty, whom the students affectionately called Father, taught well. Rumor has it that the director could hardly persuade the bishop to teach students, but as it turned out, it was important to carry the doctrine and the light. Batiushka never offended any of the religions, singling out each equally, emphasizing the differences. As a rule, he devoted the second part of the pair to answering the questions of students, who were specially written down on pieces of paper and left on the teachers table, thus the questions became anonymous. And even if some questions were repeated, he, with all his patience, gave explanations. I liked listening to him. He never lectured, never criticized, treated everyone with warm indulgence, like an older brother who loves his little sister very much. Perhaps, in our university, this is the only subject with 100% attendance.

After this couple, everyone hurried to the dining room in order to get enough of cheap coffee and energy drinks with various synthetic additives. Fortunately, the food cost mere pennies. I took a far table, located on the outskirts. I didnt eat at lunch, preferring to just sit and listen to music. Sometimes I solved my homework, thereby saving evening time.

Sometimes I was visited by strange thoughts that frightened me, because if I turned to a specialist with this, then, most likely, I would be recognized as insane. And I tried never to remember the past. I dont like to live in memories, because the best thing is to move forward. It doesnt matter what was, what matters is what is now, at the moment. Does my life have any weight? I dont know, I didnt come to any specific conclusion. Adults say that as soon as the question of vacation or sick leave arises, you turn out to be the only and irreplaceable one. But this is a lie. Anyone can be replaced and no matter where: in love, in work, in friendship and family.

I tilted my head back, staring up at the ceiling. I was crazy about smoking. Bad, not good, bad. Yes, thats just living in general is harmful. Sighing, I came to the conclusion that I would be patient and looked at the clock. The last couple is about to start. Psychology was taught by an elderly man, Bogdan Ereinovich, all the time humorous and citing some unrealistic examples from his own practice, thus trying to involve students in a dialogue. I didnt like it. Very often he told how it should have been in life, but in practice, it became simply impossible. At the first, and at the second and third, the teachers eyes were about fifty. Lonely, still living with his mother, he constantly boasted of his unconfirmed achievements. But God is his judge, if at all Bogdan Ereinovich believed in God, and in fact it is by faith that he is rewarded.

 Everyone get ready for the colloquium next week, well test your motivation to study further. Everybodys Free.

Today we were released early. Together with the general flow of students, I left the audience. Weaving along a wide corridor, I turned to the stairs and began my climb up the mountain. Although there were elevators at the University, they turned out to be very small, old and extremely uncomfortable, and even in poor technical condition. Once again, I tried to walk, especially when time and strength allowed. Yes, and I was afraid to get stuck  I dont seem to suffer from claustrophobia, but I wouldnt want to check it.

The room greeted me with pleasant coolness and blissful silence. Closing the creaking door behind her and taking off her shoes, she threw her backpack on the floor and fell on the bed with a swing, having previously set the timer on the phone. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I was a rare gouging, sometimes I lost time. And now, in order not to fall through the whole evening and not be lazy, I kind of meditated. In fact, at such moments, there were absolutely no thoughts in my head. Ringing emptiness and eternally gray Moscow sky in the window. A little more and it will start to get dark, this is exactly what I like  Moscow, like a huge modern Babylon: great and multilingual with forever swarming ants, burns and shimmers, burning and destroying not a single hundred souls. Here, life had weight only when you could at least something to oppose society. Until now, you have been empty space. And according to this attitude, which kills like radiation, the capital could be safely compared with Chernobyl.

My body relaxed, I felt like jelly  limp, as if spreading on the bed. The amazing Vanessa Mae was playing on the headphones and I enjoyed feeling my eyelids close and I was about to fall asleep.

I shuddered sleepily from the beeping timer on my smartphone, which, unfortunately, was far enough away, and therefore protected from my sloppy actions. She grinned, realizing that she still had to get up, but but not this minute.

Stretching sweetly, she briefly glanced out the window, through which the dim rays of the setting autumn sun were breaking through, illuminating the small cozy room of the hostel. She stretched again and sat up abruptly on the bed. Life in general does not bode well. The trill of the timer is starting to annoy, so I quickly got up, crossed the room and turned off the rather annoying melody on my smartphone.

Hands up, as if reaching out to the sky, which does not hear me, no matter how I call (figuratively speaking) the divine office, and getting up on tiptoes, I squint slightly. She glanced around her small room once more. Opposite the bed was an armchair and an adjoining table with notebooks scattered on it.

The bunk bed seemed secure. They still hoped to hook someone up with me, but so far it remained at the level of conversations. And in such conditions, other students refused to live.

Leaving the room, I reached the end of the corridor and easily climbed up the old stairs to the roof. Finally, freedom. Sitting on the very edge, legs crossed at the ankles, I took out a pack of cigarettes and lit a cigarette. Taking a puff, I slowly exhale, watching how an uneven stream, fluctuating now narrowing, then expanding, rushes into the darkening sky. The city comes alive with lights. I love this time. A huge buzzing anthill, like the All-Seeing Eye, burns, shines. Above me, a star begins to glow, erected on the very spire of the Stalinist era, illuminating my small but free area.

In total, I smoked, probably, the fourth or fifth cigarette, admiring the city. I did not like electronic cigarettes  despite the fact that they had pleasant aromas, I preferred the tart taste of tobacco. The only thing I liked about the capital. Leaning back, she lay down on the roof, but after a little thought, she got up on her elbows, looking around the surroundings with a leisurely look.

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