Archpriest Andrei Tkachev: Radiation thoughts Bashny.Net

Inside the skull of every single person raging thoughts. Secret this brew just won't detect. It is possible to show, in the case that I share my thoughts in conversation or in writing. The only way that boils in the head poured on the plates and cools the air. But whether thus? More recently, it worries me: is it only this way?

 

And suddenly thoughts of, even without being expressed or written in the image and likeness of radiation emitted to the outside? Just as is emitted by something invisible and dangerous from under the loose walls of the nuclear burial grounds. That the threat which causes a buzzing dosimeter and nervous dosimetrist. What causes the thyroid to grow, and rewards children at birth with all sorts of pathologies.

 

Ninety one million seven hundred four thousand five hundred twenty



 

Today I squeezed into a subway car and my dosimeter alarming hummed. A lot of people around, and all you think of something else. Fingers leaf through the screens, turn the pages of books and Newspapers, listen to what the headphones say they are in the middle of the brain. Tu-tuh, Tu-tuh. (It's a train under the earth wobbles and rushes) Or just a drive, nothing listening and reading, standing or sitting, swaying to the beat of the train, often closing his eyes. Tu-tuh, Tu-tuh. Tu-tuh, Tu-tuh. But the brew-and boil them. And in their cranium something blended and bubbling, cold and kristallizuetsya, then again begins to boil.

It seems to me that all our thoughts, hidden so deeply and the eye is not visible, in fact, not Autonomous. They is a personal matter, because each thinks of what he wants. On the one hand. It is an axiom. But on the other hand I'm pretty sure that the thoughts seep through the bones of the skull, elude hairstyles, overcome a variety of cloth caps or thin crust of hairspray, and... Start to fly around, to smell, to ring, to knock on obstacles like ball on the side of a billiard table. Yes there are walls. They begin to try to penetrate into the adjacent skull, without asking permission, no person to whom penetrate, neither one of which I forgot.

— Hey, you! What do you think?

— What do you care?

— The question reasonable, but I'm sorry. You think of something very smelly, I would even say smelly obscenely, and I feel the stench. Could you think of something good. By the way, sorry I started the conversation with "you" and not "you".

Such a dialogue is strange to imagine, and it would be even more strange to hear it. But I believe that out of our skulls with a tightly closed mouth leaking, runs away and gets into people's minds concentrate, is doing what our own mind. Sometimes the idea splatters more of the eye, and also when the mouth is closed. And not even "sometimes". The idea of eye splashes, I would say, constantly, and if no splatters, oozes, crawls or accidentally falls out. Well, as a bunch of keys from his pocket. And if we did have the appropriate dosimeter, it would be buzzed all the time, especially in the subway or trolley. Especially at the stadium or in the queue at the ticket office.

My dosimeter is buzzing today in the subway, and buzzing anxiously. See thoughts from people – not so hot! And it was the same (I do remember one or two times) when was the subway ride is so much fun, even among the crowded. It was a pleasure to look at faces, unique, ordinary, special. Shows they then thought about something quiet, or anything. And today... I can only imagine what would have happened if my inner ear was able to hear what is spoken in the hearts of fellow travelers. It happens in people that God brings terrible gift of knowledge of souls of others. I read about it. Then the inner dialogue of any person with himself, usually secret and no one knows, sounds in the soul seer. But this is the dialogue! Right, knowing this small and shameful story of a man, to love him and help him. Truly, Lord, if You want to punish someone, You can make it insightful.

Watch your thoughts throughout the day. The whole day will not work, but at least a couple of hours, at least an hour. Hour will not work – half an hour try. I tried. What a trash! Living in the Sky, don't laugh at me! What is the loft stuff! Who created me, have mercy on me! What is the Irish stew, to which Montmorency brought a dead rat! It's just pockets of Tom Sawyer, where were the rest of the Apple, and mother-of-pearl bead, and a feather! And all this invisible stuff, radijas, oozes from me to you, and your – same – flying to me.

That's why we get tired even when not working. And you thought, why? Tired, even when just woken up. Poets know this. Poets work with the word, catch the thoughts, tired thoughts sorted thoughts, like peas or buckwheat. They raise thoughts like weights. They boiled in his brain delicacies for the paper and now electronic publications. So they know a thing or two. Khodasevich was poet Khodasevich knew about it. Block, he was also a poet – so also knew about it. In General, everyone who was a poet – at least a little, but I knew about it.

Block all the time, foresaw, foresaw, hummed, whispered. I now it won't remember. Here instead of Khodasevich. About it:

Stand relaxed on the bed. \ Not with God I struggled in the night

But secretly flew right through me \ Barbed radio rays.

(There can be a couple of stanzas to miss. Without them, all too clear. There about the voice of Melbourne, about the sound of the ocean, about the hubbub on the world stock exchange…)

Go and terrified to heed the \ Noise minimumy nothing.

Ears with hands clamped All the same sound! Meanwhile…

Oh, if you knew yourself \ Europe dark sons

What you have rays \ Imperceptibly pierced!

We pierced. We pierced imperceptible chatter of others and their, radiation, radio waves, sounds of the ubiquitous pop and demonic prelogue. And we obmanuti Angel wings. And therefore still alive that obmanuti. As well, all this is not visible. All this together would be unbearable simple human sight.

But you need to think well. Thus, we are helping man to live nearby. The dirty water can not drink, a thought is dirty you can think? Fruit unwashed is impossible, and the thought of dirty is there, that is thinking, can you? Environmental problems should be solved, and ecology thought to do don't we? I want to enter the subway and sit next to you, and turn on the dosimeter. I turned it on, and he was silent. So you don't have any contagious thoughts. Then you turned your dosimeter and you have silent. That means my mind is clear. And that can be messy if people have thoughts pure? Then you can have sex with and to drink from the tap.

You and me sitting side by side. You and I have included dosimeters. They are silent. We looked at each other and smiled a knowing smile.published  

 

P. S. And remember, just changing your mind — together we change the world! ©

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