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Passe-Temps. Story of One Life. VIII

Yana Malysheva-Jones



Our world has drowned in poverty.

We are drowning every day by digging holes for ourselves, holes in ourselves and each other by offering money loans with the highest interest to the poor who will never be able to pay it back and stay healthy, happy, and sane. By walking past the homeless, shrinking in disgust, we are shrinking our fears of being there where they are and our courage to come closer and ask — how are you hanging in there?

We are scared of the answers. We are taught to help but to mind our own business. Helping became a click on a smartphone — just like everything — paying, talking, learning, loving. Dare to unclick the world and come out there to see with your eyes again, not with your camera. Do you think we will have cameras in our eyes sooner than we expect?

I am myself a big fan of videos. I love that perspective on life that only a lense can give. It gives me an opportunity not to live life but to see it, to become a still spectator rather than an active participant and I think it is a wonderful opportunity we’ve had for the last century. Before, life could have only been imagined by reading writers’ work and looking at the illustrations of life made by painters and other visual artists. But as soon as photography and video arrived we were enabled to actually see life. Do you know what I mean? But it seems to me that the further we go the more we might change one for another — living for seeing and won’t even notice it. Sometimes I fall into thinking this all to be a grand plan of our governments or those sitting above these talking heads and clowns as all politicians undoubtedly are.

I can’t help but start finding sense in conspiracies. Maybe it is a sign of getting older and not being able to let go of the things the way I am used to them.

My writing is woven with melancholy.

Elista and its unbearable heat melts me and I am thankful for that.

I take it as a gift to stop my racing mind and let myself be

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