Migrant workers` legend about the emergence of (* the world) light



Sit when the evening comes outside, turn on this composition, relax, listen carefully to the end and try to read it.
Skryabin – ‘Sraka'(Ass)

A bit more of light GNAW every new day.In my life, there are a few positive things.

After “once again I was disappointed in reality” the awareness that you have to fight for all the best came.

When you are a laborer time for hobbies, pleasure, active rest, self-development, art … you have to win against the work, fatigue, time (as an abstract of the anthropomorphic dude in a roob), unnecessary patterned actions and everyday household inertia. For example, you can shampoo head, leave as it is, and at that time to get the toothpaste in the mouth, start the procedure of defecation (for ordinary people – read letters – to force the ass to perform its official duties) and glance at the fresh press, post the most recent photo with the Greek forest fires in your blog from the iPhone.

So, now you can sit down and put my concept of the world in the form of a legend: (if I could draw, I would have made a hilarious comic)

Migrant workers` legend about the emergence of (* the world) light

At first, there was darkness, and all the people were laborers. And all the workers were white- not sunburnt, crawled like worms in the never-ending space of eternity, crash into their foreheads, ate. They shook poop and ran away migrating to another place where someones`_ was still warm. In short, the mess was disgusting. There was all that abhorrent stench of noises and cries, gritting teeth, unsanitary, – you know. On the second day (after a little time in the eternity), the greatest of people, those who were annoyed by scabies, made the candle and began to fight step-by-step with the Deep bottomless darkness of life for a bit of light for themselves and those nearby.

These were the few heroes who wanted changes. Even when it was dark at all, they had already tried to change something, to do something. They kept away, spent days in training, harsh fasting, meditations and developing archeophilosophical disputes, dragged dumbbells, played a Mesozoic monopoly, invented the first hide-and-seek, sea battle, created and told first horror stories.

Some authoritative historians have the assumption that the Prometheus was a concrete person, and more precisely, that is my granddad. In particular, Yaroslav Hrytsak found a documentary confirmation of this version among the receipts on arrears for light, gas, and water of Les Poderevianskyi.

Centuries passed. The types of people crystallized: some bombed and other smoldered with coal, and some did not even try to make the spark. Some burned like a bonfire in which the generation of ancestors harvested firewood.

Then the civilization of the city came to the public lighting, the minimum guaranteed infrastructure. There were flashlights, light bulbs, batteries, toilet paper. Life became more comfortable, more beautiful. From the cosmos on the planet, it has now become apparent how the lights of the cities twinkle, where people get together in the morning at 6:00 am and start fussing. They fight with darkness in the name of a little more light each new day.
Those alone changemakers who remember the will of giants- prometheuses of the past centuries are now called by many names: activists, passionates, those who are looking for clues, enthusiasts, pioneers, sometimes tramps-homeless, rockers, those who have an initiative, idealistic-naive -stupid, weird eccentrics, freaks…

and if the main thing in the Coca-Cola is bubbles, and in hats – a hole, then here the initiative is the main thing, a burning and indomitable desire to take their lives in hands and create from it something better, more perfect, with a more pleasant aroma and taste at least for a few seconds longer than usual.

The epilogue: – the last touch is to turn on the player and quietly immerse me in a soft velvet night as in the cloud of reflection fog

One in a Canoe – Chess

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