LOVE ENDED.
24. Altitudinal Scene
Prodigy.
As a real gift in my life, I found myself as the guest in the Manhattan home of a famous Hollywood movie star. I will not release her name. No offense, please. I want to tell a story about one wonder what happened during this lovely night. That get-together was in her new Manhattan apartment at West Forty-Fifth Street. As a jubilee, she had held the special secret event for her. What was it? Nobody knew, and we were interested. For us even getting an invitation to stay together was exciting and prestigious.
The party was at least fifty-two floors of famed skyscrapers. The bona fide penthouse premises swallowed twenty invitees. I felt energized when I understood that almost all of them were well-known celebrities. Only my person was the simplest, though it didn’t bother me. I was in a euphoric mood to meet and pronounce a few words to such individuals. I recognized a few iconic models, two blockbuster actors, a football star, a singer/megastar, a fashion designer, and one bright, recognizable official of New York City. All these diverse characters relaxed and created a friendly engaging company.
When you draw near such companions for the first time, expect tactless subjects and a few of them to seem critical. There were questions such as “Who are you?” and “From where such known actress knows about you?” and “How you met guys?” And I know, the similar queries were more captivating. For instance a question, “Are you planning to go to the Mars as a space tourist?” or “Is that possible to build on that planet a permanent colony?” And as it was just an amusement, I understood it didn’t matter with whom you talk because just ten or fifteen minutes of such mixed conversation lured everybody into pleasure.
Only a few persons were interested in why I was introduced as a writer-symbolist and where to get my books. Yes, it was only that. I grasped any small chats afterward implied as already welcomed because of an owner-host, the brilliant star brought me here. But on that evening by surprise, I caught a playful piece of luck to become the center of attention for those people.
What happened after this was an incredible like supernatural image event. All the stylish windows designed from the floor toward the fashionable suspended ceiling were like the wide glass of one big screen. It turned guests into permanent view on a radiant panorama of high-rises in New York City. We were surrounded by a hundred windows from three sides. And I don’t know why, but an entry outside to an extended balcony was at unawares close. I opened the door. Owing to my constant curiosity, I stepped outside unmarked. The wrap-around sight before my eyes gave me a visual shake and impeded breathing. At first, I didn’t realize what it was. It looked like a heavy-colored haze embracing the building on the same level as this balcony. It was a time of summer warmth, August twenty-fourth (maybe it was symbolical but it was my birthday), and 4:10 a.m.—predawn. And sunrise was still an hour later.
But I noticed an incredible thing. It was an enormous cloud. I realized that one part of it in the slow pace moved toward forty-third or forty-fourth floor and tended for a collision. It was a clear, genuine, lovely, symbolic touch-kiss of nature and civilization. Such physical magic just slammed me. It gave me an eyeful witnessing, this fantastic marvel. With a sharp move, I returned to the hall. Everybody was listening to a funny episode-joke that took place with our actress in San Francisco. I waited a few seconds.
“It’s more than weird. Has anything like that ever happened to anyone, Ha?” She completed with an invective emotional last word, ha-ha. The amiable laugh resonated as an explosion. After she finished, I grabbed from a fancy table a tiny bronze statuette and banged the edge of my wine glass a few times. At once, they turned eyes on me.
I said, “Sorry, after being introduced as a writer-symbolist, I understood no one accepted that as serious. But now, let me offer you to see something matchless as real symbolism. Would you like for a moment step outside on the patio and become a part of the amazing scene? It promises every second there to be moving in space symbol over life. Later, please tell us about your impression and what you think. Thanks.” The pause ended next minute. With entertaining glances, everybody with a noise rushed onto the porch. It was only several seconds before that dumbfounded spectators observed a majestic illustration with agape.
Beneath our very opened eyes, the silver eddy—by now far-off from the progenitors’ womb, massive and self-assured—captured into its embrace another structure. Everything was occurring so close to everyone; it seemed possible to sense it with our fingertips. The coloring of the cloudlet-dolly was playing in different tones—almost alive as it continued to swallow that structure from the middle. The rectangular, metallic frames of paneled walls and apertures of windows were losing their harmony as a visual flexure. Glass in them melted. Leaked light from portieres meant nothing already as the effect of being in-flight. What happened to the sweet sleeping tenants was unknown. We all were like in the soundless misunderstanding for what this an enormous cloud enshrouded high-rise building in such mystery way. But nobody even tried to step aside. The spellbound group stood there in full calm. I felt shared contemplation. What were these people thinking? I could only imagine. Perchance they reflected about their fate? Perhaps it was never dying for them, incidents of childhood? Or it was a reflection about beloved in the heaven? I hope in the hearts of these distinctive viewers thrilled themes about past-today-future as enjoyment meditation.
And yet, I hope the most ideas were about our natural connection with the strange cloud. Can I call that picture unpredictable for my eyes? Yes. And it appeared as a lyrical muse. The fragments of an avalanche from that celestial newcomer rode to us from all sides. At once, we smelled the freshness of ozone from the ocean mixed with an odor of rainy greens. No one awaited such an epilogue.
“Is that the real scent of the sky?” somebody exclaimed with admiration.
“Are you a novel Copperfield or something? Thanks, man,” sounded the next questions. I didn’t catch who it was. I was also thinking in awe. For all of us, it extended minutes of romantic quietness.
When guests were leaving, nobody spoke with me, but I saw their confusion as gratitude. And only my gladness inside said, “Oh, fellow, it was well-turned playtime. One day again, I’ll try to offer people such astounding symbolic sight. It was a tool of wonderment. I’d like to see.”
And now let’s hope that such an unanticipated panorama will remind them this view. Also, I believe pictures of nature make us kinder each to other. I hope every guest in the deep part of heart expects from me more surprises as revelations…
25. Gone Too Far?
The allure of feelings:
BODY OF LOVE
SUBCONSCIOUSNESS
LUMINOUS SPARKS
CAN’T FORGET
could daunt your heart when a big love comes. Can you value it as an accident or an extravaganza sickness? Or maybe you prefer to get a ludicrous misapprehension: Is the love achievable to heal, or it dies by itself?
Afflatus.
I believe men after former open-hearted love get dumbstruck for finding another one. “Even if you have already met somebody, the soul for a long time still in sorrow,” said my close friend after the terrible split with his big passion. Oh, I consent that past love continues to disturb you reminding the most tender moments like they still exist.
When I observed you, I thought, it’s not an edge-cream of odorous French perfume pencil, not a magic pen with vague colors from the rainbow, not an artist’s brush for variegation, but a mysterious little finger passing bold lines of your inviting lips. I felt it often. Yes, I admired your lips may time per day. If somebody asks, “What is the ideality to draw a body of your love,” I’ll reply that maybe only a romantic can create such a picture of tenderness. Have the world’s artists a phenomenal vision for it? Yes. But, for me, it is only a depicting delicate waving of my darling hands is a glorious burlesque. And when she walks, for me it’s like sounding music about not portraying her girlish steps yet. But even I know about her unique beauty; it stil
l interrogates my heart: why her tiara of supernal loveliness hair glows as rainbow and why her unexplained eyes delight me as a bump-crush—because I can’t oppose for not hugging and kissing the best shape of my invaluable
BODY of LOVE - breathing aura.
And I agree if somebody will claim the noise as the common activity of lovers. For me, it’s like a thousand times yes. I guess the most prominent compassion of your life is never silent. How can you stay cool when your soul and passion just boil? That’s an axiom for young lovers: when a glowing eyestalk between us started, not bogus feelings signaled, we communicated in love such a pleasure.
When you get fond of thinking about her, your body insists on capturing her in arms and increasing kisses from her berry-juicy mouth without stopping. And in the next minute, you realize that you never expected the woman’s mouth to be so tasty. Isn’t an adage that lovers want to dissolve into each other an amazing truth? And now you’re more than happy to have each second, minute, hour, day, month ticking in your mind and manifest, “I’m in love! Hey, people envy me. We are in a great love!” Oh, yes, you both merge into a blustery, vast, stormy river of effects, which splash hearts as fulgent droplets of an incessant, gratifying light.
My dear reader, I’m asking, would you like to again rethink the time when a man is glad to know that all amiable events, with unprecedented accuracy, are recorded by the tool of an attentive saving whole passion, valuing, and appreciating candor as a gentle approach by
SUBCONSCIOUSNESS—impresses scenes of love?
Oh, for long years, you will remember yourself in a flash with the amusing play by the straws, by a smooth touch of her mouth when she tried to fall asleep. We’re still kids, eh! Sometimes, she guessed it was a dream and smiled. More often she picks up one’s ears to the glow. Was it an everyday disturbance? No. Was it making the excited cheerful audience as to reach the highest point of inherent, boisterous drama? Yes. And hundreds rise from armchairs for a breakout with loud ovations. Yes, yes. It brought her almost to the same condition when an instigator was unmasked, and she—by heated, jesting kisses—launched bliss love only as happiness for both. Sure, it was the glee of contentment. All right, you’d forever wish to keep repeating how she liked being captivated by one kiss of the lips to drink each other as if you are penetrating each other through your necks. Fair enough, you know she loved you and requested to make your bodies just about aerial.
Hey, where are you now, the greatest love of youth? Have you ever brought mind bliss of being together? A purified welkin was as created only for us. A bloom of floral fields given for us. The fairy sphinx of our feelings spins single over us because we both know our love never dies, and in our eyes, it lives as a glint of the
LUMINOUS SPARKS that still bear love.
Would you agree that only an enamored individual knows why it happened in a rush? It was the one instant decision for both. You are equal in remembering the birth of this love. And in the same way, you realize it died. As the miracle of memory, a far later you realize that all startling situations often recall themselves. And you will get a fresh step closer to impalpable details about her: you again float up in her eyes by amaranthine pictures. You have once more stuck to the strongest amorous shakes of real ardor. You don’t care as it was your determination. But now, you consider that as sad. And you live on in the darkest moment when you feel affection for departed out of the blue. Like men, you don’t tolerate such pain. And it’s the most extended mode of impossibility. Can you call those feelings as you had to surrender to the weakness of not saving love? You consented to not care if all the time alive inside you. You can’t forgive yourself as you took steps to stay apart because you still
CAN’T FORGET over time.
It happens with men. When you are caught in the toils of a superwoman again, you can note it as impossible not to surrender. You could also think: only the best diva defeats anyone. So, would you like the answer:
Which image is preeminent for you when your heart recalls adoring moments of passion to your
BODY OF LOVE?
The people embrace the sincerest love effloresce only in the heart. But would you agree that such love leaves the heaviest imprint on your
SUBCONSCIOUS?
Have you ever been in a condition when the strike of love made you ready to bring your woman everything she ever wanted, even the tiniest
LUMINOUS SPARK IN THE SKY?
I have plenty of notable examples when a man suffers a lot harder than a woman after love has died. What’s with you? Did you have a strong effort to leave behind memories to not torture yourself because you
CAN’T FORGET?
26. Score for Woman
If you want to understand why recent divorce number are speeding up, I’d recommend to descry choices where men are cohabiting with women without marriage. As it shows, the man is taking a more significant risk and must learn to prevent it. I believe the phrases:
SCORE for WOMAN?
HIGH-PROFILE ESTABLISHMENTS
WHAT OFFERED?
NEVER DESERVE
can help him create an allegorical panorama about the demonstrative reason: a significant change of modern women.
Ambiguity.
Is buying woman’s the best-shape figure with all spirit the Score for Her?
In your thirties, you are mature enough to answer provoking questions about your private life with the ladies. Sometimes, and that is not weird anymore, you get into the fruitful practice and addiction of talking to your internal voice. Is that your closest friend? Do you believe what he tells you? Okay, it’s only your business to know about that. By performing that looks ridiculous. When people see your pleasant whisper to yourself, they think you are going cuckoo. But if you’re satisfied with that, you can grade it as communication with your thoughts. Let’s overhear your next exchange, or perhaps it can pack excitement about what you both know now. I hope it could be more readable if, in such inseparability in dialogue, you will call yourself Clark, and the Internal Voice “IV.” Okay, let’s listen to what you both talk about as hail fellows.
“Are you ready for marriage? Or would you guess you’re still too young?” asked IV. It happened after another one of Clark’s unlucky fails with an imagined love with the next girl.
“No is my answer. And it should be no doubt. And if I’m honest, I believe not yet,” Clark answered with a timid face. “My setting is perfect. I have a top position at a professional company. I’m the chief advisor, with thirty-eight high qualified specialists as my subordinates. My workplace is in the heart of Manhattan, close to Central Park. The building looks the best because it’s covered by Italian plate-glass from the ground up—over fifty floors to the roof. My department is on the forty-first floor, occupied by a few hundred square feet. Do I need something extra?”
“No, and that’s wonderful. Would you deduce yourself as a wealthy or upper class? As I know, this job offers great advantages for promotions. Is that correct?” asked IV, teasing Clark.
“You’re right. And only one thing bothers me. It’s the obsessive idea I must do something with my private and sexual life. Am I wrong?” said Clark with huge disappointment.
“I see,” approved IV. “Man, down to your recent mettle, it looks like you won’t stay single. That annoys you. I’ve seen many times how you suffer under this. Practice patience. Do you agree that searching for your other half is a hunt for harmony in life?”
“But what do I have to do?” Clark interrupted with a sharp step.
“First, don’t hurry. I watch your dissatisfaction. It’s understandable that an irksome line of random girlfriends hurts. Perhaps by these futile endeavors, you should stop dating?”
“No. As I noticed, I’m obsessed with this strange mindset plan. Is that worth over trying?”
“Is that affordable now? Give yourself pause, at least for a few months. Do you have any clue what it’s like to live with a cute, kept a woman?” asked IV, noticing that Clark’s face had r
eddened.
“Don’t worry,” said Clark, conciliating. “Why not? It would be a fresh experience. As it never applied, I would venture to control it and not mystify. It depends on how smartly I organize it.”
“If you demand from such a woman nuisance conditions, it will again come to hard luck. If you even try to create discomfort for a woman, in a few minutes, you risk hitting an enemy who hates. Do you want a super girl? Yes! You got a gorgeous diva and must not worry about her inward quality? You’re not a king, boy,” objected IV.
“I support her plans to finish university soon. I’ll greet that only with a Bravo! And I believe that bringing her to my cave doesn’t mean I have to buy this body.”
“I understand that,” confirmed IV. “If you need her not to have a call-girl mentality, stop joking even for yourself. “That’s for my personal use. No one supposes that for the use. Stop it. You must learn the women are perfect readers of a man’s intention.”
“Yes. I’ve had enough adventures. And even not arguing it’s a different setup, and I prefer that as a secret?”
It paused for few days. Clark thought about it every day and realized it as a hot issue to him. He was nap when IV returned to him with an answer to his last question. “If she agrees to live with you, did you calculate the living in pair only by your cost could bring you many incontinences and argue? As I see, you already gave her a hint about your intentions. And don’t forget, my location is inside you, man. I saw how glad she was to agree. It looks as though she feels it worth it, but you have to see what she can offer.”
“Whatever, let’s figure out what happens. But I am alarmed that even my proposition was accepted like it was pretend. And the first thing that catches your eyes is that she has the open pretense that anyone must just adore her. Second, she is ambivalent about men of the highest status, who is in the steady circle of gorgeous women. In our conversations, I heard blunt assessments of such women as her direct contestants. Does it a look I caught?” Clark replied with irritation because he did not want to be tricked again. “And one more thing, she said after moving in together, I’d pay for everything only for a while. She would change this if she could bear complete love. Is that not ideal?”
Figures of the One Must Go Page 22