…bsp;                         A life like a day

 

                        Autobiographical notes of a poet

 

 

Under a pine in mountains life is fine.

I'm free to lie in the sun, getting fun

From the wind and grass

As hours and days pass.

Wild nature is my life school,

I'm not a fool to believe in pure intellect

And I now that any real, true effect  

Is achieved by the struggle for existence.

I believe in effort and persistence

And when I relax, I don't melt like wax.

In mountains I tune to my fate

And open a transparent gate

To escape our world of hate.

But return refreshed and new

To the chosen few,

Who walk in the morning dew.

 

 

     Writing poetry is not a skill, it is a gift. But to get you must live a life, interesting to readers. Otherwise you’ll have nothing to write about. I became a poet after thirty four years of spiritual research, though my first verse I wrote thirty years ago and it required four years of Zen studies.

 

                   The mist in the window doesn’t pass,

                   A branch silently touches the glass.

                   There is only deceit behind,

                   But my breast is warm and I don’t mind.       

 

     For several years I didn’t write anything but a score of haikus. Then little by little I started writing again, very rarely but very easy, when I took a list of paper and a pen.  And to my birthday at fifty five I wrote in three weeks as much as in all my life. And started writing in English too. One thousand rimed lines. It was a breakthrough and I wonder now, how it was prepared.                                                                                                     

 

     The exam on English literature was approaching and I looked though the textbook, underlining names and fact to learn at the second reading.  I had three day for each exam and this method helped me remember all I needed. Not for long but for a good mark. That’s why I never used a crib and studied well, though I didn’t spend on studying any time at home during the year. I spent it at the foreign languages library, studying Indian, Chinese and European philosophy.

     Moscow Institute of Foreign Languages, later renamed to Linguistic University, was an ideological agency, preparing specialists for contacts with foreigners, ideological enemies of the Soviets people and our personal too. We were thoroughly controlled State Security Committee and even selected for the work of spies. But Zen was not in the list of prohibited ideologies, because the classics of Marxism didn’t write about it anything. And it was very difficult to understand what it really means. Its byproducts karate, kung-fu, Chinese and Japanese art were also ideologically neutral and did not compromise Zen itself.

      The essence of Zen is the esthetic vision of life, shown in Chinese and Japanese poetry and painting.  Enlightenment is feeling life’s deep harmony, hidden under the waves of transient sensations and events. Like the tranquility of a sea, often compared in Buddhism to nirvana. So Zen is not a religion to be denied by atheists, but an inspiration to creativity and a philosophy of vital optimism.

      I had no problems with the regime, until my elder brother fled to the West. He graduated from the same Institute and went to works as an interpreter abroad to Algeria and escaped from there to France and then Germany. I knew that he was going to flee, but he promised me to do it only with me after I go abroad as an interpreter too.  He forgot about me and did what was convenient to him and thus sacrificed me to his desire of sweet and beautiful life in the free world, because after his escape had no chance to get abroad, or to get access to foreigners as an interpreter. My career and my life were ruined at the start and in two years I became an outcast.

     That was a test of Zen and the pantheistic Indian philosophy I studied. I chose to go on and ahead. When I lost the qualified job, I returned home to Stavropol, found the work of a night guard and devoted myself to yoga meditation, many hours each day for many years. First mantra Om, then Hare Krishna and finally my own meditation and prayer formula – Lord, You my calmness! Sun, you are my health! Sun, you are our life! Lord, You are our protection! Lord, You are our success! The last word should be selected in accordance with the situation and needs and the formula should be  repeated during the day at spare time.

      I studied Agni-yoga, a Russian space teaching, and Christianity, Bible, then Koran and Islam.  God for me was both the essence of all things and the Person above them, Creator of the universe. I only couldn’t understand how Christ or Krishna could be God. It was too irrational for God to need a body to be believed so I preferred Muslim conception and my own spiritual experience, which lead me on and ahead. Any deification of a man inflamed emotions and imagination, but didn’t help to solve real problems, because a prayer to a man was not a prayer to God. This man couldn’t do what was expected from him as God and this prayer missed real Almighty, who could help, but didn’t, because He didn’t support human illusions about Him. Christians may be offended by such skepticism, but I did not invent it myself, I learnt it from Mahomet. Crusades against Muslim world gave no results and to argue about it now is as useless as then. Though as a Russian I didn’t become a traditional Muslim, I just realized the truth for myself and went on and ahead.

     I was alien to atheist authorities, I became alien to Orthodox fiends (for some time I even worked as a chanter in the church) and God prompted me to turn to aliens themselves. The basis for UFO research was Agni-yoga, I only had to interpret and check it up. Here began the fantastic period of my life

 

                     A traveler, tired of the road,

                     After the heat drinks

                     The cold light of stars.   

 

    I saw UFOs many times and I had many chances to check up my psychic abilities. So I decided to apply extrasensory perception to space. I was difficult, but interesting. I began to feel other civilizations and their leaders, their psychology, ethics and religions, their attitude to Earth and earthly spirituality. I discovered that monotheism and pantheism existed everywhere and that aliens knew not only God but about Satan too. There were wars in space against Satanism and they might repeat again, because Satanists threatened all. It was my vision or intuition first, but logic too. Creator of the worlds should make all rational beings alike and my own spiritual experience was a key to alien mentality. So I could really understand what goes on in space and through this mirror see what goes on in our world, because we are a part of the universe or Galaxy and our processes are parallel and tied.

     Later I described my visionary results in a fantasy story about space intelligence and fantastic verses about space, so this period was useful and inspiring too and I went on and ahead.

 

 

 

This is Andromeda Nebular with its two satellites.

 

 

 

Fly to the sky or die.

But if you are afraid to fall,

You may crawl like all.

Though in the end

You’ll regret the time you spend

To earn for the silly things you buy.

If you always bend and lie

You’ll tie yourself in a knot

And start to hate your lot.

Inner freedom is worth more

Than popularity and fame,

You can’t buy happiness in a store,

All social life is just a game.

To find your true self

Break the heavy stone shell

And inside find a gem guide.

 

Angels could helps us solve our riddle,

When we stop in the middle

And hesitate, whether to go further,

Bit it seems they don’t bother.

We are left alone in a labyrinth of guesses

And earn every answer by experiments and stresses. 

Why are they so reluctant to support

And where is my angelic escort?

We are left by God too,

Reports of His help are rare and few.

Maybe in this scientific age

We are isolated by a skeptic cage?

And angels, aliens, ghosts

Just watch us from their posts

Like in a zoo or in a jail

And life for us is an eternal gale?

 

Only God know why and when

I’ll meet an angel on Earth again.

The previous encounter was half-fantastic

And the measures were half-drastic.

Nothing is sure in this world dream,

Though no one asks God of an ice cream. 

Why doesn’t He help us quickly in response

To our constant prayer gongs.

Maybe He wants us to do our best

And fly freely from our childhood nest?

Maybe our destiny is to become angels too

And find by ourselves a heavenly clue?

To develop strong steel will

And stay always calm and still? 

There is some hidden sense in our strife,

The only judge for our deeds is life.

 

Whether we achieve results or not,

We see and learn in the process a lot.

Understanding comes with years,

We get the point and say: “Yes!”

To God and to this world of mess

And this is the key we had to guess.

Faith in justice and success

Is all we need - no more, no less. 

Heaven opens embrace to optimists,

Wind of luck clears our way of mists.

The mount of sky is seen ahead,

We realize now, where the road led.

Forces come back our body and mind,

The world again becomes soft and kind.

Sun shines to our soul with grace

And we finish successfully the race.

 

 

 

                                       Music of fate

 

 

     An astral storm held the interstellar ship on some uninhabited planet in the nearest ball star cluster, not far from home, Vega. And Chongui-Tan had nothing to do. Their flight was successful and they anticipated a good rest after the return, but the storm came as always unexpectedly and broke all the plans. Super-speed travels depend on astral, subtle energy and any distortions of astral space make them impossible. Surpassing the speed of light is a miracle and all miracles are capricious. Like men themselves. Life is a mystery and no one knows all the causes and condition of failure and success, in any field of endeavor. Astral flights are thrilling adventures and Chon, as he was called by friends, did not complain. She was just anxious to go on, because she didn’t like to wait and waste time for nothing.   

   The planet was quite ordinary like billions of similar planets in the Galaxy, green, clear and free. But no one was going to settle their or to explore natural resources. The whole universe was free too and developed civilizations had no problems with living space. And they were too rare to fill it and quarrel for territory like developing ones, restricted to one planetary system or even to one planet. So Chon was not curious about the planet and went for a walk just to spend time.

    She passed a green valley with large dreamy flowers, butterflies and bees and entered a breach in the rocks. It opened another valley and suddenly she heard a whistle, just some human whistle with a strange swinging melody, unusual by itself and double unusual in this wild place. Soon she saw the man. He was walking strait to her with a dreamy air, looking at the stones under his feet. Then he stopped, as if he felt her presence, and looked up directly into her eyes. Not surprised in the least degree, he smiled and continued to whistle his strange tune. His clothes were neither aboriginal, nor modern civilized. He was in the middle and that was for this remote planet quite impossible. He could not live there and could not fly from some other more developed world. Chon was a good specialist in contacts and understood it at the glance. Or he was a queer fish, who escaped civilization for some personal reasons and could be dressed anyway he liked. But that was too rare to be true and discarded the thought as unreal because of his smile. He didn’t look like a refugee, afraid of disclosure. He enjoyed the meeting and Chon herself. She knew very well this impression on men and their reactions to her green frustrating eyes of a model, who she could become, if she were not an astro-flier. He was really, really strange and very confident of himself, more confident than Chon.

     Than he said a word in a familiar to Chon language, that raised her surprise and curiosity to the peak. The language of Earth, a developing civilization, that had no access to stars. Vega studied it for thousands of years and Chon knew its major languages very well. He said: “Привет!” (Hi!) and Chon realized the he was a Russian. She answered in Russian too and smiled in response. He was very open and friendly and Chon understood at once that she likes him too. He was neither young, nor old and his eyes shined with wit. What could he do here and who brought him from his closed world, afraid of aliens and unready for any contact or cooperation? Was he alone or there were some bosses here and what was their secret experiment with this earthling? Chongui-Tan had to report to the captain and she set a code, meaning an unpredictable situation, the first degree alert. 

    “You are beautiful,” – said the stranger and approached her so close that he could touch her with his hand. And Chon knew that he wanted to do it, but was afraid to scare her. She was very brave even with aborigines as a professional, so she didn’t withdraw. He was just a man, charmed as all others in his place, and she was sure he wouldn’t dare to trespass the rules, known to all men and women of the universe. She was not nervous, but her heart started to beat. Finally, quite unexpectedly to herself she flushed. Shyness was not her trait of character, so she was surprised at her own reactions and to overcome it touched the man herself. On the breast, slightly stopping and pushing him back: “Relax! We are not yet familiar.”

    The man stepped back, crossed his arms and started to whistle again the strange butterfly tune, reminding of earthly jazz. Chon estimated it as a specialist, though jazz was not in her taste.

    “What are you whistling? – she asked to look more friendly, - Is it some earthly music?”

    “No, – answered the stranger. - It’s my”.

    “Aren’t you an earthling?” – smiled the girl. 

    “Yes, I am. But the music is not earthly. I whistle only in contact with space. So it is cosmic by origin and content. It reflects my state of soul, when I travel somewhere out of Earth.” 

     “Now we come to the point. How did you get here? Are alone or you have friends?”

     “Maybe you’ll become my friend. Others in space I don’t have. I’m here quite by myself”.

     “Do you have a ship?”

     “No, - he laughed, - I teleported”.

     Chon laughed too. That was a good joke and an explanation, you can’t argue. Really, he could keep secrets, but her profession was to break them like nuts. Obviously, he was well trained for space and alien contacts. So he had a good teacher, who was now absent, but could come at any moment. And she sent another alert code, the second degree, meaning the presence of competitors.

     “Maybe, you are tricking me? Just learnt Russian and play a fool. Where are your bosses? Why did they leave you alone in wild nature without weapons? Isn’t it dangerous? How do you know, what you can meet here?”

     “I feel it. So relax”

     “And what are you searching here? It’s a desert world. There is no civilization here and nothing to find.”

    “I searched for adventures and found you”.

    She smiled again and laughed. – “I’m not an adventure. In an hour I’ll fly away and you’ll never see me again.- And after a pause added: - If you don’t tell me, who brought you here and why”.

     “I see. You are afraid of everything strange and unexplainable”

     “Not of you”.

    God knows, how long their argument would last, but it was stopped by a team of rangers, walking from the rocks with weapons in hands and quiet professional smiles on faces.

     “He is alone. Not a soul anywhere. – said to Chongui-Tan the head ranger. – Relax”.

     Then he walked to the Russian and slapped him on the shoulder: “Are you real? Not a hologram? Do you know, that you can’t be here alone? And still you are. There is nothing to spy here, is it somebody’s joke?”

     “Let me think, how to explain it better. Maybe I fell into a space hole. Would such an explanation do?”

     “It was in an anomalous zone?” – joined the conversation Chongui-Tan.

     “Yes, something like that. You see, all my life is anomalous and my city is a real zone for me, so I searched for some way to escape and succeeded.”

     The rangers laughed.  Chongui smiled. The Russian looked a little bit confused, but not taken aback. He insisted on his version and they had to accept it for the time being, until some other explanation crops up. And the whole group went back to the ship.

      Chon wondered, what was his name and finally asked. He was called Oleg, what meant “Holy”, and his last name was Tumanov, “Mist”.  They called him in the Vegian manner Ole Tum, what sounded like “unexpected strike”. In the ship he asked for their music and Chon gave him as a present her own disk-recorder with one hundred popular albums on each disk. That was more than enough and Oleg sank into the music, silent like a stone sculpture.  They left him alone in the guest’s cabin, because it was clear that any further talk was useless and he wouldn’t tell anything else but his myth. Though from a scientific point of view holes in space  were possible, otherwise how would their own ships momentarily fly to other stars and galaxies? They were not skeptics in nature, but didn’t like to run into fast conclusions. So postponed the case for the future and returned to their duties on the ship.

    The astral storm was going on and they had nothing to do but relax and wait. Though Chon was impressed by the new acquaintance more than she thought at first and could not think about anything else but him. Maybe he really fell through a space hole, but why to the place where they parked the ship, directly to her? Was it then a fate? She believed in Heaven’s will or God and understood that miracles can come only from Him. The man was a real unexpected strike to her psychological stability and she wondered why. Other were curious too, but as adults controlled their emotions. Chon was seized with contradictory feelings and could not resist the temptation to talk to him again.

   She called him on the videophone, hoping he would guess how to switch it on. He simply pressed the button and saw her on the screen.

    “I like your music, though it sounds a little bit strange and too harmonic for my real life. Maybe your civilization is much more positive than Earth and for you it’s just OK. But I need something more complex and rhythmic, energetic, forceful”. 

     “You are right, we are more ethical and esthetical. It’s natural for all developed worlds. They achieve it by their long experience in solving problems and Earth is only on the start of the way”.

    “I look rude? Like aborigine?”

    “I don’t know. You didn’t yet show your character. Maybe you are OK for us as an exclusion only proving the rule”.     

    “I may be merciless. That’s the rule of survival in our world. If you are soft, you are week and you loose the game”.

    “I am a contactor by profession and I understand such people. In a developing civilization you must be strong or you die”.

     “That’s it! I feel I’m different from you and I’m not sure you like me”.

    “Xa-ha-ha! – laughed Chon, - Don’t worry. I’m curious about you and that means that I like something in you, though I can’t now understand what”.   

     “OK, - he relaxed and quietly smiled. – I like something in you too and I don’t think it’s your beauty. We also have beautiful girls and I’m not taken by surprise. Nevertheless I want to touch you more than I ever wanted with any pretty girl I knew, though I don’t know you at all. Is it some magic? Or you are really so attractive?”

   Chon turned red: “I’m really so attractive. And you confuse me by your manners. On Vega men are not so direct”.

   “Yes, I’m aboriginal. And my feelings or desires are more simple and open. Ha-ha-ha!!! That a joke. I just wanted probe into your defense. And now I see, you are not so dangerous. At the first contact you were too charming, I was afraid you’ll cast a spell on me. But if you are normal, we can make friends”.

    Chon suddenly realized that she wants to kiss him and she flushed again. Some prime instinct prompted her that he was a real challenge to her and that he will turn over all her life. She felt stiff and clumsy. She couldn’t go away and she couldn’t stay. So she for a moment closed her eyes and kept silent. God help me! What to do next?

     Oleg was silent too. He realized again that he wants to touch her. And he also didn’t know what to do next. After a minute or two they came to their senses and simultaneously smiled. Without a word looked at each other and fused in some new unexpected feeling, drawing them to each other more and more.

    “Are you a psychic? – broke the silence Oleg. – Do you feel what I feel?”

    “Perhaps, I am.  – stumbled Chon. – All astro-fliers are trained for extrasensory perception and what about you?” 

    “Let’s check it up. Close your eyes and concentrate on your wish. Maybe I’ll guess and do it”.

    She closed her eyes and relaxed. He came to her and kissed. Psychic or not, he hit the point and she answered him with a kiss and an embrace.

 

 

 

                                           Dream             

 

 

       Chon’s and Oleg’s love was too quick to be true, but too beautiful to be a lie. They were both unusual and their behavior was extraordinary. If it was possible to teleport or to instantly fly to another star, why was it not possible to instantly fall in love and come to mutual understanding?  Miracles may be of different kind and their inner resonance was a miracle. So why not allow them to be what they want and let them catch the moment of happiness as they deserve it by their long life of faith and fight?

       Her father, the captain of the ship, Colonel Tan did not object, because he knew his daughter and understood that it was useless. After all the new-comer intrigued him too and he felt in him some hidden potential that can serve them in some projects on Earth. To establish contacts with earthlings and develop cooperation would be quite a feet, because no one succeeded in it before. And there is a legend (or real historic data) that some earthlings and Vegains are close relatives.

As descendants of Prophet Elijah, who fled from Earth on a “fire chariot”, an interstellar ship.

On Vega he was recognized as Heavenly Prophet Eli, because he really came from Heaven, appeared from nowhere and his mission unlike with Jews was a great success. Major astro-fliers clans and former royal dynasties (which ruled before common democracy) were his heirs by faith and by blood. Religion on Vega never quarreled or competed with science and had no such crisis as on Earth. Dynasties controlled astral flights from the start and when the age of democracy came, they just changed monopolist power for monopolist space research and trade. So on Vega there were no cruel bloody revolutions or dictatorships and its culture was subtle and soft. Like Ole Tum’ dream, which came true, Chongui-Tan, the symbol of the new world and life.

     Maybe Vega was too soft or feminine for Earth and that was the main psychological barrier, aliens could remove. Maybe they were just afraid that earthlings will get access to space with their help and technology and that their cruelty will become a new problem for all. So just to be on the safe side they waited for earthlings to create a real ethical culture, based not on irrational and disappointing nationalist and Earth-centered myths, but on the philosophy and theology of one God of the universe, common to extraterrestrials too.   Intuition prompted Colonel Tan that Ole Tum had strong religious convictions and experience, compatible with his own, otherwise his daughter would never even look at him as man. Maybe it had Muslim sources, maybe common Oriental, but he was surely different from other earthlings and was a riddle to be solved. And used.

     The astral storm continued and they couldn’t fly home. Chon explain Oleg the problem as she started to explain him everything he saw or felt. He was surprised by the astral limitations of super-technology and showed by his questions deep understanding of multi-dimensional space. Finally, he realized that it was like ordinary astral flights without ships and smiled:

     “So, you leap through space like me. Reactors only give you energy for the breakthrough. I get this energy from God and the rest is the same”.

     “Maybe, – agreed Chon. – I don’t know how you fly, but we need a stable astral tunnel, created by a quark ray. Astral storms can throw you away very far and usually we don’t risk”.

     “What if we try together, your quark reactors and me, i.e. God?”

     “You are daydreaming. – laughed Chon, sitting on his knees and caressing his hair. -  But if you want to experiment, I’ll ask Dad about it and maybe he will be curious enough to agree”.

     He was. And they tried. God knows why, but the ship leaped without distortions directly to the Vega astro-port. Colonel Tan laughed and winked Ole:

     “You are a talisman.  It really works. Maybe, you’ll work for us as a pilot?“

     “Yes, you bring good luck, - added Chon. – That’s real and very important. All astro-fliers know that technology is not enough and that a pilot must have his own energy impulse for success. You have it and it’s very strong.”      

     “OK. – agreed Oleg. – Why not? That’s interesting and I’m glad to be of some help. And that’s my dream too. Like you.”

          She laughed happily with a silver bell voice and her green eyes shined like a binary green star, rare but possible and real, if you wait and search.

     On Vega she as a guide introduced him to the wonders of super-civilization. They flied and travelled all days long, watched realistic for Chon and fantastic for Oleg films in the evenings at home by Internet TV, enjoyed vivid colorful dreamy paintings and all sorts of music. Rhythmic, energetic in Oleg’s taste too. If you search, you can find everything, even if it’s not as popular as on Earth. Their meditative music was also effective and inspiring. He relaxed completely and felt himself at home. Yes, this world was in resonance with his dreams and could stay here for ever. He even forgot his whistling, which so intrigued Chon and the whole team of the ship on the remote planet. Here it was unneeded, he was tuned to new life and its opportunities by Chon or her love.

     Flights also continued. They supplied Vega’s good to several Galaxy civilizations and on a secret mission – weapons to the neighbor spiral galaxy in Triangle to allies in a planetary war, fighting for freedom and independence, in exchange for their spiritual art, exotic for Vega but well-selling in the Internet, mainly icons of local religions.  Oleg thought of earthly paintings as   products for sale and could imagine here only impressionists and Chinese-Japanese artists. They were positive enough to suit Vegian harmonic tastes. The rest was too earthly or destructive. Films could not compete too, except Chinese kung-fu or Japanese karate and ninja heroes in Hollywood hits. Russian films were too depressive or complicated. Like Russian history and national psychology.  He was a Russian and did not forget it, but as a realist understood that to survive here he must change and become optimistic and civilized. Or refined and sublimed. For Vega’s culture and art sex meant less than love and children, there was no generation gap here and parents helped to choose matches, relying on their life experience, so families were stable and divorces were rare. Astrology was used too like in India and young men were well prepared for marriage and their duties. So girls were not afraid develop friendly relations with men and to love. Everything in Vega was both spiritual and natural, he understood that Chon’s trust to him was typical too and appreciated Vega even more.

     Finally, true to himself, he decided to try his chance in art too. Whistled his space tunes to his disk-recorder and offered it to Chon for sale in the Internet. She had a popular site and offered it there for download. Copyrights in Vega are registered automatically at the first public use or broadcast and Internet there is a real mass media, more convenient and popular then ordinary television, because you can choose the time of use yourself. Reaction to Ole Tum’s whistle compositions was confused. They sounded strange to all but attracted attention and raised curiosity. They didn’t resemble anything familiar and visitors of the site didn’t know what to do about them - listened, left and returned back to listen again. Some bought and downloaded, some wrote comments and questions, some reported it in their own sites as Chon’s whim. Soon everybody knew about her protégée and she got the reputation of a queer fish. It appealed to her sense of humor and she enjoyed the game. Her last name Tan meant “mystery” and she turned out to be a good actress, playing the role, though in reality she considered everything plain and simple. The key to Ole Tum’s music for her was Oleg, she now knew very well, but for others it remained a riddle and an intrigue. So gradually Ole Tum became a music star and forgot his past. But it didn’t forget him.

     As an astral warrior he felt all threats at distance and learned about some new problems on Earth.

     “I must go home, - he said one fine morning to Chon. – Or some innocent people will be killed”

     “Your home is here, but if you need to help someone go at any moment. I won’t miss you a bit. I’ll be busy with my problems too and shall have no time for sorrow.”

     “OK, - he kissed her and disappeared right before her eyes, melting in the air like a hologram or a ghost. – Good bye. I love you”. These were his last words, already from emptiness, or from the other space.    

 

     So he was on Earth in Russia. It was dark night but he saw very well the man with a gun behind the tree, waiting for someone to pass by. Yes, it was a killer. Intuition didn’t deceive Oleg and was ready to act. He stretched out a hand and took from emptiness or some distant place a knife. His favorite steel friend from the past he nearly forgot.

     A girl appeared on the road. The killer put his hand with the gun into the pocket and moved ahead to the girl.

    “Here is the target”, - thought Oleg and moved ahead too. The killer walked quickly, but Oleg much quicker. At the moment, when the man took out the gun, Oleg was right behind him with his knife and pierced him in the back to the heart.

     The girl saw it and cried, but immediately calmed down and smiled. She recognized Oleg and he recognized her. It was Irina, his pupil and girl-friend, who went home to her village and didn’t return. He thought she forgot him and went to space for adventure, where he met Chongui-Tan. But now she was here, beautiful and serene as always. Her next move was an embrace and a kiss, a long kiss to the lips. And he remembered everything he tried to leave behind. She was calm and sweet, attractive and simple as his steel knife. Yes, she was real and he could rely on her again, if he decided to live on Earth. For now he had to choose, between two planets and two girls. And he knew that he needed both and could not leave either. He was not a Muslim to have two wives and they could not be joined in one place, but he could not betray Chon too.

     All these thoughts and feelings passed through his mind in some seconds after the kiss and he realized his difficult situation to the marrow of one's bones. But didn’t say a word and drew Irina by her hand quickly away from the corpse. Old problems arose again and old enemies were still alive and active. It was a new war. And he was challenged into a trap. Either he fled, or was caught like a killer himself. That was their plan. But he had his own opinion about it. He took out his knife and stretched it ahead, concentrated and switched on the flame along the blade, cleaning it from the killer’s blood. Just to be on the safe side and put the knife back to emptiness or some unknown place. No trace, no chase.That was his favorite saying, he composed himself. He was a new-type ninja and was very difficult to catch.

    They walked silently hand in hand along a park valley on red and yellow leaves, well seen even in the night under the lamps. She started the explanation the first, simple and direct as usual:

    “You know, you have a daughter. I was hiding in the village because I was afraid some one would use my weakness and make problems for you. But now I’m OK and I’m back.”

    He was taken aback: “Really?” – and he had nothing to add. It explained everything and left him no choice. All was decided in Heaven and he had only to accept his fate.  

    His life on Vega was just a dream, as an earthling he was tied to his civilization eternally and could not escape even when he could. He wrote a letter to Chon and put it on her table through the five-dimensional space, he used to teleport. “Good bye, my dream, for ever and forgive me for my involuntary deceit. I’ll remember you to the end of my life. And we’ll meet in Heaven, if you don’t forget and love as I love you”. That was the end of the letter and of the dream. A man is a man and an alien is an alien. Their ways are different and they never meet. At least now when Earth is a problem to all including earthlings themselves.

 

     In a year one autumn evening a bright star appeared in the western part of the sky, unusually bright and slowly moving over the forest. Oleg noticed it as walked along the street and stopped to watch. “Yes, it’s not a planet because it moves too fast. It must be a UFO. – realized Oleg. - Who can it be?” He concentrated and saw in his inner vision the face of Chongui-Tan. She was smiling and there was a baby in her hands. Yes, it was another surprise of fate and its music too. He passed through astral directly to the ship and stood before her.

     “What’s its name?”

     “His. – Chon corrected him with a smile. - He is a boy. His name means “music”. He is the heir for you compositions and a very rich man, because they are very popular now. And stable hits unlike other music. I even sell them now to space”.

     “So, you don’t forget me…”  

     “No. And there is nothing to forgive. Good bye”.

 

 

 

A starry night with Moon

Feeds by a silver spoon

With the nectar of life.

Calm like a steel knife

I go along the shore

From a fantasy book store,

Watching the sleeping sea

And all I can not see.

Reality is rude and rough,

Fantasy is a selling stuff

And my free imagination

Shows me space nations,

Quests on our poor Earth

From all over the universe.

 

Our past was science and rebellions,

Our future may be UFOs and aliens.

Changes come gradually and unexpectedly

But finally in the full specter. 

Humanity always finds some hopes,

Prompted by psychics and horoscopes.

But the true solution of our problems

Is not tied with revolutions or space probes.

If you can only really see it,

It’s at all times in the spirit.

Without ethics there is no civilization,

Without esthetics there is no nation.

Creator is the only Lord,

My main hope is Almighty God.

 

 

 

                                             Antichrist

 

 

     Monya Sterkin was a Jew and a plumber. Born on the 4.2.1962, when all the seven visible planets gathered in Aquarius, the sign of the new coming age, expected by esoteric occultists, theosophists a astrologers as the cosmic age of extraterrestrial cooperation. As a Jew he had ambitions, inspired by the long history of his people, and didn’t want to live an ordinary life, repairing pans. Some Jews satisfy their ambitions by musical talents, some – by scientific discoveries, some – by successful business. So ambitions are not bad at all, if they are a stimulus for work, but Monya’s job gave him no space for aspirations and dreams and he had to find something else. In passport his date of birth was 1.2.1962, because he was born at home, was not registered in time and later they put into the birth certificate just the beginning of the month. His mother didn’t like doctors and hospitals and his father didn’t like state, authorities and all official procedures. They didn’t like Russia in general and considered their motherland Israel but did not immigrate because of Arab wars and terrorism. Unlike other Zionists they were cowards and did not very much believe in God. Who was so cruel and unpredictable …

     Monya was brought up as a very cautious man too. He didn’t believe anybody, even other Jews and didn’t like Judaism for its strict moral rules and the problems it caused to Jews in their history. They were alien to pagan peoples and had to fight for their beliefs or to flee and hide. In the Christian era they even didn’t have their own state and any place to live independently. Christians were to blame, Muslims were to blame, Russian were to blame, Communists were to blame, God was to blame … The whole world was wrong and Monya hated everything and everyone.

     His chance for a revenge on everybody was in his horoscope. His mother explained it to him when he became a youth and could already keep secrets. She said that such concentration of planets in Aquarius made him an unusual man and that there are many people in America who might accept him as their political and religious leader, not only Jews but Masons too. The only thing he had to do was to attract Satan, playing the role of his son, a devoted Satanist. Satan was the king of the physical world and gave money and power to his servants all over the world. It was an army of potential followers, who could destroy any obstacles to his success. It must become a secret world rein of fear and death for all Christians and anti-Semites. It was all predicted in Talmud and Christian books, so why not? He was the right man for the role and he must try.

    His mother initiated him to black magic ceremonies. Though he didn’t believe Satan too, he agreed to go the course to the end. Why not try? And it worked. He suddenly became a psychic, began to feel other people’s emotions and thoughts at a distance, before they expressed them aloud. He had visions and voices, prompting him what to do, and it all was proved by real events in his life. So Satan was real and strong, more real than God, who was too remote to be prayed to. It was a chance to become somebody real too and Monya plunged to astral world completely, making acquaintance with Satan and demons directly as an obedient pupil and their hope for a revenge on Christ, for his “disobedience” and “pride”. Satan wanted to become God himself and Jesus was for him a rival, his cult annoyed Satan and he planned to abolish Christianity with the help of the rival religion, Monya should start, and Satanists.

    Monya’s mother taught him all methods of deceiving Russians and finally sent him to Federal Security Service (KGB), where he offered himself as a spy to be planted to Israel. They tried and Monya got access to Mossad through Internet under their control. He told about his birthday and Israeli Jew were strongly intrigued. They knew about this horoscope very well for many years and accepted him as a candidate, who had only to prove his abilities and skills. Russians understood that Jews were interested and make on Monya a serious stake. As Communists they didn’t believe either in God, or in Satan and  treated Monya’s project as a game. So he got a cart blanch for experiment and started his planned mission in the USA, through the Jewish lobby in all spheres of American life.

     Jewish billionaires got interested in him too. Religion is tied with politics and politics – with business.   So why not invest in his ideas some spare money and see how it works? Monya asked for one hundred billions for himself personally as a donation to Messiah (or Mosheah). They were a little bit surprised by the amount but promised everything he asked, because promises are not money itself and cost nothing. But his appetites cautioned them and they really gave not a cent. They needed a servant and not a lord. But Monya looked too independent not to be controlled. And he lived in Russia, where Jews were different from American, because they gave up religion with Communists and tried for many years to undermine capitalism all over the world, striving for world domination without American billionaires and ready to sacrifice them to their ideology like the rest of capitalists. Karl Marx was a Jew too but he was not billionaires’ friend. As well as Lenin or Hitler, who had Jewish gens but served not Judaism or Jewish people but their ideologies and personal interests as leaders of the herds. So Monya deceived everybody but the most rich, who had instincts for real politics and didn’t believe anybody too. They were more experienced in affaires and intrigues and a Russian Jew for them was not a teacher or a chief, though openly they did not refuse him because of his Israeli support. America and Israel are political allies, but to a certain rational extent, in some questions there views maybe different, though they never quarrel and show these differences to others. Such were also all Jews in general, they proclaimed national unity to each other, though in reality always preferred personal interests. When they coincided, they were one, but when they diverged, they deceived each other too.

     Monya Sterkin was a contradiction in everything he believed and did. He disliked Russians but was alien to ordinary Jews and married s Russian girl, Mila. She was simpler to deal with than Jewish girls, who irritated him by their high demands, he could not immediately satisfy, and attempts to control all his life. Mila was simple and silly, as he thought at that time, and was ready to do without questions all her home work and serve him in all he asked. She was convenient and he valued his own comfort above all religious and political games. She was beautiful enough to satisfy his masculine ambitions and was a good alibi for Russians, proving he was not a nationalist, a Zionist.

     Mila was not as silly as he though and had broad religious interests. She wanted to study astrology and meditation, and finally became a disciple of a Stavropol astrologer Oleg Tumanov, who taught not only astrology but Yoga and Christianity as well. On her birthday Tumanov got acquainted with Monya at her home and that was the start of a new line of events, parallel to Sterkin’s games with security services. Mila asked Oleg to make Monya’s horoscope and gave him his birth data the passport. Oleg knew about the antichrist’s horoscope too and was surprised to find a similar horoscope so close to him. He was a psychic and on the basis of the horoscope he felt that Monya is playing a game, imitating Antichrist as a FSS agent for Mossad and CIA.

   Tumanov’s first wife Lilya had some Jewish gens (he learned about it only after the marriage) and her mother lived not far from Monya in the Jewish district of the town. Lilya told him about their Jewish relatives in Stavropol FSS (KGB) and he thought that Monya had some local support, because Jews usually helped each other in all spheres of life. Monya’s game was his own business and Oleg left him alone, because he had some problems with FSS, which tried unsuccessfully to recruit him and was offended by his refusal.

    Tumanov’s experience with Jews before that was positive, because his teacher in astrology was a 100% Russian Jew and another Jew taught him modern mathematics. So he did not envy Jews their intellect and influence in politics. He just knew it and took into account, though he read a lot about Jewish Masons in America and Christian books about Antichrist. He believed like other Russians that Antichrist might live in America, the center of his possible secret kingdom, based on Jewish money and Masonic secret organizations, and that Russia was opposed to his control in spite of all Masonic attempts to abolish its economical and political independence and to subordinate it to the USA. Later he changed his mind, but then it looked logical, though logic without facts is only a version and life can be very complex as a labyrinth.

So he did not suspect Sterkin of his true motives and took him for an astrological double.

     Mosheah’s new religion was planned as a cult of the new seventh archangel, who changed the fallen Satan. Monya believed he got this appointment from God because there was no other way to win the game with demons and Satanists. He served the boss who gave him more than his rival and this “proposal from God” prevented his becoming a convinced Satanist himself. In reality this idea was suggested him by Tumanov, who could imitate in astral anyone he needed. Tumanov  projected the thought to real Mosheah and automatically got to Monya, because no other Mosheah existed anywhere. Jews accepted the idea with enthusiasm and for Masons he continued to play Satanist, the son of Satan.

     Monya as Mosheah needed an intermediary for Russians and the East and he thought Tumanov might play the role and later just be killed. Tumanov felt his plan and decided to play a fool to study Mosheah’s intentions and agents of influence. He developed the idea of the new archangel among his disciples and Monya was for the time being satisfied.

     When Mila married Monya, she didn’t know he was a Jew, for he called himself Misha and never showed his passport. Gradually she learned him better and was completely disappointed in him as a man. Because he was a self-conceited despot in everything he did. As a reaction to him she became a convinced anti-Semite and divorced him. He promised to revenge Russian for her and became more aggressive than ever. Tumanov was her teacher and he had to die. Besides he became a competitor in interpreting new ideas and his view were more logical and attractive than Monya’s Talmudist and Masonic foolishnesses. So Monya began to envy him and to hate as a goy. 

     Tumanov had his own prayer, he taught to his disciples: “Lord, You are my quietude! Lord, You are our health! Lord, You are our protection!” Etc, the last word changed to correspond to the situation. It was very simple and convenient for repetition, people liked it and Monya envied it too. Local FSS didn’t support it either. They preferred atheism or the well-controlled Orthodox Church. New religious ideas scared them like everything other new in any field. They had power and didn’t want any changes. Thus their interests coincided with Monya’s and he used it to the full.

     Astral strikes of Satanists killed Tumanov’s first wife, she died in a fire accident, caused by her inattentiveness. She became an Orthodox Christian and subconsciously chose death instead of the long fight and difficult life of opposition to Oleg’s enemies. Monya was happy and interpreted it as the first step towards total destruction of all his opponents, a successful experiment, showing him the right way.

     Lilya's death forced Tumanov to check up all he knew and thought real, both his religious and political views. Finally, he came to the feeling and conclusion that Monya Sterkin was Antichrist himself. Thought it took much time and he couldn't prove it.

     What should he do next? He tried everything he could, starting from astral counter strikes but it was useless. Sterkin stepped back into the shade, waited for some time and continued his war. It lasted for several years and in the end Tumanov appealed to angels, who helped him in astral struggle against other Satanists. An angel could imitate a man, coming to the human world in flesh. It was not a real body, but its resemblance, made of astral, aether and physical fields. So he asked angels to imitate Sterkin and teleport the original to the fire lake, mentioned in Bible, or to some star plasma, where he would burn and disintegrate to atoms. Mosheah's .power was in the support of his sponsors and allies, his open death would cause revenge, but angelic imitation would prevent any reaction and the problem could be solved.

    Tumanov felt that Mosheah was replaced by a phantom but couldn't prove it or know it for sure too. But the fact was that the war ended and he was left alone by everybody, free and alive. After the death of his wife he married his disciple, a young and beautiful girl and started his life anew.  So the case was closed and life returned to the usual natural cause, it followed before Antichrist, though memory doesn't die.

     Jews were disappointed by Mosheah's failure to destroy all their rivals in religion, politics and business and forgot him completely, as if he never existed. Masons were disappointed in him and all Jews too and returned to their usual methods and beliefs, based on Atlantic culture, which existed thousands of years before Jews. FSS switched to internal politics and terrorist threats. CIA decided that Sterkin was fraud. American billionaires returned to their king Dollar and traditional politics and politicians. And life went on.

 

 

 

 

                   Shades pass very fast,

                   Lies are left in the past.

                   Sun rises to the sky,

                   Butterflies shine and fly.

                   Flowers send their aroma,

                   Bees sing mantra Om.

                   God smiles at our dreams

                   And descends in sweet streams.         

 

                   When you send hello to space,

                   It disappears without a trace.

                   But are you really alone

                   Like a cold heavy stone?

                   Maybe someone hears your voice,

                   Your desire and your choice?

                   But he doesn't want to break

                   The thin ice on our soul's lake.

                   And he leaves you to yourself

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