автограф
     пускай с моею мордою
   печатных книжек нет,
  вот эта подпись гордая
есть мой автопортрет

Stepanakert
                   Saga

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рукописи не горят!.. ...в интернете ...   

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    days:

December 22.

Also in dreams the

... missile attacks went on only with much gaudier rainbow colors and finally an Azeri paratrooper entered the room and put a razor to my beard ...

Deafening silence and feeling that something was fatally wrong awakened me.

At the Club only Veelen, a reporter, dropped in.

We had a small talk about the local parliament.

I finished reading of the BHAGAVAT-GITA. The real thing.

At home Ahshaut was sleeping, the mother-in-law and Roozahna gone to some close relatives in the downhill town.

Sahtik was on top of the situation and really perfect in performing. I, for my part, rather dutiful than ravished.

Then I took the BHAGAVAT-GITA back to Lydia and exemplary paid for it by playing along with her twenty minutes' monologue on the local politics.

After unfurling her opinions as to who was guilty in the present situation and whose faults and mistakes still hamper handling of it she produced and read to me her letter to the three Presidents—Armenian, Azeri and Russian—asking why they had done nothing about it.

<!-- Thanks to yoga I haven't got a crick in the neck after half an hour of nodding sympathetically.-->

One page from ULYSSES.
Yoga.
The pencil game (I was humiliatingly defeated).
Supper.

Now all are safely over in Underground.

The water-walk is ahead.

It might seem a dull routine but these water-walks are virtually filled to the brim by confluent stream of fantasies.

For instance, the day before yesterday while taking water, in proud solitude, from a spring almost beyond the town I was shot dead by a sharp-shooter from the summit of a near-by hill and collapsed into the mud on the brooklet's bank mingling my blood with its running waters.

And, as a common place in the course of fantasies by my water-walks, I bury one or another member of my family before fleeing with all them alive to a secure place in some peaceful state.

By the BHAGAVAT-GITA's caste classification, Samvel, the head of that firm, is a Kshatri (knight).

What right did he have to look at me from a Sudra's (Valyo's) eyes?

Anyway, I wish good night to all the members of any caste.

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