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Как я съел собаку

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hours...
but 6:00 am sharp!
And suddenly there's a thought: want to go home.
Then: stop!
Stop, stop. Where am I?
Then such unhappy thought: but where is home?
And then totally unhappy thought: there is no home.
There is no home.
Until this day when I don't feel well, I may probably
be in the same place what is called "home"
or a place about which I could say: "I'm going home".
I am in that place.
I don't feel well and I have this thought: want to go home.
Where is home?
There is no home.
All buddies wanted to go home so much. They even wanted to go to such home
to which it's impossible to want to go.
To such towns which you pass by in the train
and look:
oh, town...lord! Do people live here, too?
But this is some one's native town.
And he has everything there.
Everything.
And there will be no other.
They wanted to go there. Wanted so much.
Also, there was a feeling
which it was possible to analize and formulate only later.
That is: land where you were born and motherland are different places.
And also there was this constant feeling of being betrayed.
So heavily betrayed!
And one had to take offence so seriously.
Had to...we hadn't betrayed anyone. We were deckhands,
how could be betray anyone?
But we were betrayed.
It was hard to sort that out. Suppose, we found out
motherland or state had betrayed us.
How con one take offence against it?
One has to serve it.
And it was so big, motherland and state was so big.
It was hard to sort that out.
But it was necessary to take offence so that it became possible to serve motherland.
And  do you know against whom it was most porductive to take offence?
Well, most productive regarding service.
And most effective.
I'll tell you know against whom we did take offence.
We took offence against girls who - whores - didn't wait for their mariners to come back!
And I must tell you none of them waited.
Even those guys who didn't have any girls, they hadn't even
smelled them once.
They thought them up and those
thought-up girls walked out on them.
But in order to take offence
it was necessary to to accomplish a ritual.
It was needed to go to photographer's
to take romantic picture,
to take this photo and write down:
"let my unmoving face remind you about me"
and to send it to some faraway city.
And after sending: whore...
After that it was possible to serve motherland normally.
I clearly remember the feeling with which I entered my room
after the service.
I went into the room, I see:
little room, 16 square meters, not big.
Earlier I didn't thing about square meters:
room is a room.
Anyway, that was home.
What does "home" mean?
Sure, it was specific street in specific city,
specific house, specific flat, not very big.
We were living in it. That was home.
That is: home.
I return to specific street, specific city, specific house,
specific flat, but where is home?
And moreover, this room of 16 square meters,
what is it? I used to live there and I didn't even think
how many square meters there were, it was enough for me,
I lived in it.
Inside this room...
In this room I was living in, I listened to music.
I turned the tape-recorder on and listened to music.
That music was so nice, everything changed at once.
That is, there was room always in disorder,
there was window with tree on the other side, some brick house,
it was raining all the time and red trams went by.
But, as soon as music started, everything changed.
Things weren't tossed around, they lied down.
It was not rain outside the window, rather drizzle.
Trams were running. It was not brick house,
rather house made out of bricks.
And tree somehow...
And this music was so wonderful that I felt is so strongly
and I wanted to play the bass so much...
I didn't want to be a musician, I wanted to be what I already was
but I wanted to play the bass exactly in this piece of music
because I though playing the bass was easier.
And to play for sure! I had played
Как я съел собаку Как я съел собаку

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