#jazzybuts
#daddysback
#impossiblecool
#trappedintheamberofthismoment
#баловство
I woke up to a world that was frighteningly clear, outlines of all things so sharp they might have been cut out of office-paper. Any silhouette would leave deep shining gashes on my retinae, so I covered my eyes and felt my way to the soothing darkness and ominous creaking of the elevator. Outside, solar radiation was beating down mercilessly on everything, bleaching every color into one of the infinite shades of white, obscuring vision behind walls of trembling, overheated air, finally smudging the lines that hurt my eyes minutes before. In an old horror movie they used to smoke cigarettes to protect themselves from nuclear fallout, so I lit one up and sat on a concrete block, wary of losing all my colors to the rampaging rays that seemed to come from all directions at once and crept even through my strained squint. Sounds from a nearby construction site created a somewhat apocalyptic image of the city around me: the screeching of saws and drills, the heavy thumping of compressors' engines, the subtle rustling of sand and cement dust under workers' boots. At the same time, seeing people do their work was pacifying: it was as if a world-changing disaster had already come and gone, leaving humanity with nothing but a will to rebuild and recreate, rendering moot the primordial question of 'why are we here?', replacing it with 'where do we build next?' So I stood up and walked toward the office, eager to contribute to the general business of rebuilding in my own way, ready to do the job I both loved and hated. Not for my personal gain, but in the interests of mankind, for no other reason could ever exist under this white-hot sun, in a city of colors worn away and lines honed razor-sharp by a fine summer morning.
#daddysback
#impossiblecool
#trappedintheamberofthismoment
#баловство
I woke up to a world that was frighteningly clear, outlines of all things so sharp they might have been cut out of office-paper. Any silhouette would leave deep shining gashes on my retinae, so I covered my eyes and felt my way to the soothing darkness and ominous creaking of the elevator. Outside, solar radiation was beating down mercilessly on everything, bleaching every color into one of the infinite shades of white, obscuring vision behind walls of trembling, overheated air, finally smudging the lines that hurt my eyes minutes before. In an old horror movie they used to smoke cigarettes to protect themselves from nuclear fallout, so I lit one up and sat on a concrete block, wary of losing all my colors to the rampaging rays that seemed to come from all directions at once and crept even through my strained squint. Sounds from a nearby construction site created a somewhat apocalyptic image of the city around me: the screeching of saws and drills, the heavy thumping of compressors' engines, the subtle rustling of sand and cement dust under workers' boots. At the same time, seeing people do their work was pacifying: it was as if a world-changing disaster had already come and gone, leaving humanity with nothing but a will to rebuild and recreate, rendering moot the primordial question of 'why are we here?', replacing it with 'where do we build next?' So I stood up and walked toward the office, eager to contribute to the general business of rebuilding in my own way, ready to do the job I both loved and hated. Not for my personal gain, but in the interests of mankind, for no other reason could ever exist under this white-hot sun, in a city of colors worn away and lines honed razor-sharp by a fine summer morning.
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Эту запись оставил(а) на своей стене Егор Юрескул
