Melancholic reminiscence is indeed priceless.
There’s nothing like remembering the past to make you cry rivers like a puny weakling. Long gone memories of something that you are not anymore. This is your life now. Take it or leave it, like it or not, this is the only possible choice. There are no happy endings, and most certainly there aren’t any happy beginnings.
Life is almost like a very messy and spicy minestrone soup of unwanted creamy-dreams and salty-wishes never to be realized, never to be done. No great mountain to ever be conquered, no great conquest to ever be tastily savored. All there is, is you and nothing else but the endless darkness of life. Perhaps also, some of those precious and pathetic shitty memories that regretfully you just can’t let go off.
My lovely past is like a faraway hallucination, in a faraway Russian fairy tale. It’s something like a drunk memory that quite possibly, never really happened. It might just all be a dream for all I know, or perhaps a chemically induced delusion.
I do remember it all, like it was yesterday. Oh sweet yesterday, I want to go back although I know that I can’t.
The horny birds singing near my home in spring, before lustfully mating on the tree branches. The lush birch forest turning red during autumn, just before instantly drying up and dying. The piles and piles of snow falling on my rooftop during winter, precariously encasing us in an icy tomb.
The summer, my dear and beloved summer.
That one time when everything changed forever and it never was the same again. Quite suddenly, I was brusquely awakened to the beautiful and brutish reality of adult life. That one hot summer in my piss-poor village, when I was still a young and pretty innocent mademoiselle.
When a little modest village girl, became a lustful goddess.
All in the blink of an eye.
I remember that every year I would just go inside the wild forest with my empty basket, in search of delicious juicy red and purple berries. I walked and I walked for hours, with my stupid smiling face. I was so naively young and stupid, wild colorful flowers were enough to make me happy.
Who cares about diamonds and gold when a blooming sunflower can make you smile with delightful and pure honesty.
After a couple hours walking through the birch forest, my basket would finally become full of delicious berries. I’d enthusiastically run back home with my bounty, ready to share it with my grandma. She’d make us some pancakes full of honey, sour cream and berries on top. I’d eat nonstop like a bottomless glutton till I couldn’t move anymore.
At night I’d peacefully sit on the porch. I would just, endlessly gaze into the stars as I slowly sipped some delicious green tea. Grandma would already be sleeping by that time. It was midnight by now, only me and the gorgeous black sky above me. The ghastly birch trees would freely shake and move with the howling wind. It seemed liked a magical song of nature, temptingly enticing my childish senses.
In that precise moment, I’d feel completely unchallenged.
There was nothing before nor after, only that unique moment when I was all blissfully free. Could you call this pure feeling, maybe sweet innocence? Or perhaps awesome stupidity? I really don’t know, all I cared about was me and my own sense of liberty and happiness. Well, and also about having some tasty food inside my hungry belly. A couple extra pancakes never hurt no one.
I had no worries, no plans, no desires, no fears, and absolutely nothing to bother me. Just my pure intuition and desire for a majestic future in the vast unknown. It was only me in that wild and desolate birch forest in the endless white.
That magical place and the rusty old village were my world, indeed I have so many irreplaceable memories that fill my soul with invaluable tenderness. This is where I met my first love and first lustful perdition. Her name was Kyusha, my sweet Moldovan girl who adorably fell in love with me. It was not her regretful mistake, but mine. Such a misfortune, to tragically fall in love, like in a cheap TV soap opera that you see on a Friday night.
It all happened so unexpectedly fast, like lightning.
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