Immortality. How to achieve it and how to avoid it. Alex Ron Gonzales

BOOK change our LIFE

Was a typical summer day. I mayalsya from heat, enforced idleness and comprehension total meaninglessness of existence. Beating through the dusty panes stuffy editorial office sunlight ate paint a computer monitor and prevented at least for something to focus on. Besides peacefully sleeping guard, managing editor, that is me, and the secretary Nasty, all floor did not have any. Desolation was not only the summer holidays, but also disastrous financial situation of the small publishing house in St. Petersburg. Manual concealed from creditors somewhere cheap Mediterranean resorts, the staff — those who have not yet retired — having given up wage arrears, too dispersed in all directions — away from the city. Well, I was hooked nonchalantly corporate loyalty, as could maintain the fiction that the publisher still afloat — cheerfully answered particularly stubborn calls, which could not cope Nastya, and periodically tried to revive the manufacturing process.

From unprofitable occupation distracted me unexpected guests come — though uninvited, but pleasant, and give their views of hope for a quick improvement in my fate. Slamming the door and a friendly nod woken guard down the hall toward the open door of the editorial office briskly walked my former classmate Alex. Oblique broad-shouldered, fitted by a colorful Hawaiian shirt, foot tall, red-haired merchant beard haircut "under the pot." Expensive leather diplomat seemed a toy in his hefty paw. On his round face — constant roguish smile … Although at first I felt as if some confusion in his eyes usually lively blue eyes. Interestingly, leading Alexis, who had just returned from a business trip to America, to our little world of publishing? And why I have forgotten this feeling of anticipation and the inevitable holiday miracle? Entered the house as if Father Christmas (or Santa Claus?) Performance in the summer …

Under extracted from diplomat bottle of tequila (which surprised me — usually Alex drags whiskey, rum or some poor imitation of our overseas home brew) and snack cakes in the form of editorial and processed cheese flowed confidential and intimate conversation of two old school friends. I once again lamented the sad fate of book publishing in Russia, Alexei also briefly shared his impressions of the trip, once again asked me to "give it up and rotten thing to do normal business." He was the owner of a large company that produces and sells directly to a unique museum and exhibition equipment virtually anywhere in the world in the last trip, he visited Los Angeles and New York — to build links to a contract, and shared experiences with colleagues on both sides of America.

Everything was great, but I did not leave the question: why is he suddenly decided after arrival (and it is, as it turned out, came late last night, almost at night) to see me, but certainly not at home and at work? No, he's obviously gone for a reason.

And when the bottle was left only a third full, Alex paused significantly, and, glancing slyly at me, reached for diplomat

— And I brought you some of New York City! — He said, winking conspiratorially. — Asked to give personally.

It was a book. Curious … If the bottle is "fire water" of any origin or flyer of his own company in the diplomat Alexis looked quite appropriate, the book … Well, well … The book is in Russian. Quite heavy, though paperback, made not very professionally and without any data about the publishing house, place of publication, circulation, etc., but apparently printed recently. There was not nothing strange. Strange, to say the least, it was the content. And the name.

The cover read: Ronald Alexander Gonzalez. "How to avoid and how to Immortality."

The longer I was flipping through this book to those in the more perplexing come. Tentatively it can be divided into two parts. First look confusing hybrid of scientific theories, historical information, esoteric, non-science fiction and clearly autobiographical essays. The second part seems to describe rather unique system of exercises, and the Chinese and Indian terms coexisted with Old-sounding words, and some very very unfamiliar constellations of sound.

Private eyes snatched a cursory reading sentences and paragraphs caused frightened and unwilling stream of questions:

— What the crap!. So where do the Tsiolkovsky and Hitler? .. Again — the "sacred female" from the "Tao Te Ching" … Is he kidding me? No, well, you see what he wrote here! .. Man, you did something it read before I privoloch?

I still had something to say, but Alex interrupted my rambling half-drunken shouting and questioning:

— I you can not talk about anything and not have to ask — I'm not a reader, but a messenger. And less than you in all these wisdoms understand, and I do not want to understand them, to be honest. Here's a letter from the author, it is "soap" to ask questions. However, a week later, he and his wife will travel to St. Petersburg. And very much like to talk with you personally, so try to catch at least read everything by then.

Alexei words were amazing. I hate when I try to manipulate … Even when drunk! .. But the further the story put everything in its place: he just could not wait to throw a switch.

So, in the last day in New York, my friend was in one very unusual museum. Subsequently, I also went there because for clarity Alexis muddled narrative slightly amended by me.

Situated on the outskirts of the Big Apple, unobtrusive and obviously avoiding wide advertising the museum has been dedicated to the history and distribution of occult and esoteric knowledge, communication of ancient traditions to the existing Masonic Order, secret cults and teachings. Models of ancient Egyptian tombs, Tibetan stupas and Stonehenge coexisted in him with wax figures of the great Rosicrucian, Madame Blavatsky, Gurdjieff, Crowley … In certain isolated booths could be using your computer online to participate in any of a variety of ancient and modern rituals and ceremonies. But not only that! Special "game" simulator allows to pass on the way the afterlife wandering soul — was enough to choose from a long list on the screen, "The Egyptian Book of the Dead", "Tibetan Book of the Dead" or even "beyond the grave ordeals Orthodox soul." It is a pity that such computer games available in stores!

One of the walls takes a giant mural of a kind of "family tree". The roots of his stay at the top for the most part took its origin from the names of existing and founders of religions have long disappeared down a heavy tree branch ended names and names as well known, and quite unknown to the general public. Here are many Masonic orders and lodges stood next to "New Age", Ontopsychology, Scientology and even "Jedi religion" and "Order of the Matrix warriors." Start typing a special control that interests you, or name — and before you will show the entire history of this tradition, often unknown to most of its modern followers!

On the top panel — D shapes, like a stylized image of the Chinese principle of "Yin-Yang" with swirling in the eternal dance of the black and white "fish", but the ball this way trudnoopisuemym located right inside the golden polyhedron with twelve vertices. "The Tree", thus "goes back" to the twelve vertices of the figure, which causes a feeling of artificiality and unnaturalness of the whole structure.

A separate room of the museum is dedicated to the future of humanity. Alex from it, by his own admission, went extremely depressed, but that just upset him, refused to talk. And I have also not yet keep silence.

The owner and the director of the museum, who invited Alexei, was a pretty, dark-haired woman of about thirty, who presented him as Jane Simmons, a doctor of psychology. The business part of the conversation ended in a natural way, when there was the husband of Jane and co-owner of the museum. He was a tall, thin man, dark, with long smooth hair, black as a raven's wing (sorry for the abundance of cliches — the professional disease), and gray-blue eyes piercing gazed from under his thick eyebrows. His name was Ron, Alex Gonzalez, and he is well spoken in Russian.

From the following story of Alexei, who became suddenly quite incoherent (maybe a couple of bottles of beer affected, enclosed world of tequila?), It was possible to draw several conclusions. The first is this couple tried to recruit my friend, urging him to join any international secret organization, concerned with the future of mankind, and to lead its Russian subsidiary. Second, it seems to be promised to achieve immortality, or coaxing to drink some "elixir of eternal life," or, conversely, dissuading from this. And thirdly, the bastard turned me overseas sectarians. Old friend — how glassware!

It turns out that Alex and Jane organized a visit Alexis in "museum", pursuing their hidden agendas. For some reason they needed from Russia, meets certain requirements. By calculating Alexei Internet and knew that he often goes on business trips abroad for its museum and exhibition business, they are very happy to see this is probably a sign of fate. But soon they realized that Alex is still not the kind of person they need. Any Mysticism and spirituality have always attracted him, like any normal person, persistent allergies, which is expressed in a fit of boredom and a desire to drink. Once this was confirmed, the Americans began to question him carefully — in the hope that it will lead them to any candidate, more suited to the role of "spiritual seeker." They were especially interested in his schoolmates and childhood friends. They did not hide his concern that this person was a particular year and month of birth, was born and lived in a nice area of the city of St. Petersburg, the occupation was associated with the spread of culture and, of course, had an interest in the occult knowledge.

— And then I thought of you, — said Alexei, blatantly staring me in the face with her innocent drunken eyes. — You're the only one of my fellow classmates for many years doing all this exo … eso … u! .. Terik. And we were born with a difference of two days. In all publishers, again, how old plow — well, then it is all on you mad! They asked me when I told them about you: the lines came together, the gradient is irreversible … or something like that … even the appearance of your described, count? .. I. .. and then, you're all the same one, but I have a wife, children, aunt-sufferer in the hospital on the buckle is … Book now to pass on by hand … There are only a few pieces in Russian. There are English and Spanish versions. This Alex — polyglot since birth, he has three native languages — American, Spanish and Russian, can you imagine? .. And you … because you still have nothing to lose — take a chance … I then, if that …

In general, they persuaded him to give me the book of Alex. Ostensibly only to consider myself the possibility of its publication in Russia. But it was only a plausible reason for the start of their secret plans.

I read a short letter the author. Substantial part of it was the following: "For some reason that will become apparent to the distinguished gentleman publisher after reading this work, the author would be happy to make the book accessible to the maximum number of Russian readers as quickly as possible. And not on the Internet, but for many reasons it is in the form of a paper book. There is no commercial gain by not pursuing and ready to make changes in the text, if it would be explained by their need. All this, as well as any other matters relating to the book, the author is to discuss in person arrived in St. Petersburg in August ** 200 *. Unfortunately, staying in Petersburg allotted only one day, and then in August ** publisher will have a unique opportunity to join a third one research expedition to remote areas of the Russian North, Siberia and the Urals. "

Even after adjusting for all the intoxication it was like crazy, draw or something worse. What a ridiculous reception to write about himself in the third person? I also spearhead Indian chief logs! Benefits is not intended … Us for idiots, I suppose, these cultists take? And as an offer to go "to the remote areas of the Russian North, the Urals and Siberia" seemed a travesty! I understand, if eccentric American invited me somewhere in Hawaii, at the very least to Mexico or Peru … But the Russian North and Siberia — this is probably the places that normal people wish to visit in the last turn. If you wish to do. And then, once Author intends to publish a book as quickly as possible Why send Publisher to Siberia? It is unlikely that this will speed up work on the book …

Deep in thought, I did the edge of consciousness noted that Alex several replays in a demonstration of his intoxication. Suspicions increased when he suddenly zasobiralsya home, staggering and even exaggerated in the hallway trying to drunkenly hug Nastya. He currently used in any form is not allowed, being familiar with her stern husband, a master of martial arts.

Alex left. After some time had gone and flooring. The guard continued his peaceful sleep — a consequence of a stormy night club.

Since the first time I was left alone with the Book.

At three o'clock in the morning, already, of course, at home, I turned the final page and left a cigarette on the balcony. I have long given up smoking, but he felt an irresistible need to take some action, which sums up, emphasizing the importance of what is happening. If I had the chance, I would have made a fire and burned it all the old unwanted things, thoughts and emotions — as do the New Year Buddhists, and not only them.

Over the head and around the burning August bright star. Unusual for the city and the unusual silence of St. Petersburg for the summer nights darkness enveloped me. Peace and quiet, the infinity of the universe, freedom and beauty … Monstrous lie, which I always knew — but he could not change. Just forget it and stop noticing. Which I did. Like all the others. Life under the hood is unbearable … as long as you remember about it until you see it.

It seems that now I know what to do. Yes, this book should be made available to Russian readers, and as soon as possible. But it will not be published in our publishing house. A year of work, I noticed that on it leans a curse. Any, the most interesting and a good book or waited plight obscurity if among its copyrights appearing our proud brand. But the most important even where and as This book is published. Alas, I realized clearly: the text needs to be processed at the seventy percent. In fact, most of it will just have to be rewritten. The fact that it is clear to me — a professional editor and esoteric with years of experience — will drive a normal reader into a state of severe stupor.

"Immortality" … Yes, it is a good bait to attract potential readers. But would it be able to klyunuvshy is to understand the true meaning of the book? Will it be he really useful? Will it change his life, how to change my own? Should the title to attract — or, conversely, discourage, filter public? "Mind Control" at the entrance … But what a publisher would agree to "non-cash" name?

In the remainder of the meeting with Alex six days I was able to do a lot. Met him head-on.

Using his connections in the publishing world, I have achieved the inclusion of the book Alex tentatively alias and code name in the immediate plans of one really good and reliable printing. I managed to convince a friend, who worked there chief editors, and later editor of the book will be the hit of the season, and the publisher will remove all the cream, becoming a pioneer of a new star. At the same time on his hands, I had only the material of the first three chapters of the book — a lot of text, just did not have time to process. The remaining chapters, including the description of the methodology to achieve immortality, I vowed to provide, within two months — to the extent that they are edited by me. And I did not cheat. I knew that with the help of mobile Internet to send the text to the publisher will not be difficult, even in Siberia.

In parallel, work on the book and communicate with the publishers had to be collected on the expedition. I did not know how long it will last. Very much like to hope that it is not until the beginning of the cold …

Ever, if such a genre as a memoir suddenly be in demand, I will describe my first meeting with Alex and Jane, and all that happened to us in the expedition. One of its objectives was to search for and study of ancient artifacts, the existence of which in Russia is still well hidden by the international scientific community. In addition, Alex was hoping to get close to a giant cube of underground facilities in the Pechora, and can, if you're lucky and get inside it. But the main objective of the expedition was to communicate with the living bearers of ancient traditions. I hope you understand that the story of the expedition and its results — a completely separate issue.

Before you go directly to the book, I want to mention a few important points.

With the consent and at the request of Alex text was seriously I reworked and partially completed, so if you fall into the hands of English or Spanish version of the first edition, do not be surprised significant differences. In this paper, I used a diary Alex's father, has repeatedly referred to in the book, and the diaries of the Alex made to them during the first two expeditions. However, I tried not to change the style of the narrative, Alex ongoing first-person. As a result of this work changed the structure of the book. Alex came to us with the idea to divide the text, which became much more defined by two, maybe three books. It seems logical that the first volume contains most of the biography, or rather, the autobiography of Alex and everything related to his life in America at the beginning of the activities, and the first set of required exercises and practical advice.

I am grateful to everyone who has helped me in my work on this book with advice and consultation, and, of course, those who morally supported me in this period. This Sergey Aksenov, George V. Galunov, Pavel V. Bersnev, employee Publishers, St. Petersburg State University Alexander A. Galat, and in particular — the director of the same publishing house, Professor Roman V. Svetlov. Without their help, I could hardly a sufficiently adequate and, more importantly, so quickly to bring this highly complex and mysterious book to Russian readers.

Sergei Grivtsov, June 2006

(Back)


THANKS

I thank my parents for their direct involvement in the creation of a unique mind-body composition, which for many years I have affinity with her as "me." And without the "me", in turn, would not have been in this book.

Thank you my friends. Those whom I call these words, know what I mean.

Thanks to publishers and editors. Without compassionate and attentive attitude on their part as a problem child could not be born.

I thank those who are consciously and unconsciously interfere with the appearance of this book. It is their efforts accumulated in it so much explosive energy.

Thank you all!


INTRODUCTION

Since my childhood I wanted to be immortal. This dream came, of course, not immediately, it came at a time when I realized that the immortal, apparently I am not.

Before that I was sure that is immortal.

Realize the frailty of life helped me to parents, but the logic of which was used by adults, I did not like. And I still do not like it, despite its deadly simplicity: "You're a man, and men are mortal, therefore, death, and thou." What nonsense!

Then I could not do that to oppose. Only a quiet rebuke in the form of a rhetorical question, I suggested to them, "Then why did you have given birth, if they knew that I was going to die?"

Immediately shlopotal cheek.

So I learned the art of debate and ways of reasoning adopted in primate society. People because primates — to remind you just in case you forget it.

Since then, I hid, but the thoughts of immortality has not left. Although, I confess, to live with such thoughts is not easy. But I could not be as all and I accept the imposed situation.

Particularly difficult when I discovered that surrounded egoists who care only about their own interests. Interests? Software that is embedded in them knows who and when!

I remember already studying in final year of school, I was sitting one day on the ocean shore and watched the sunset. The sun touched the edge of the water on the horizon, spilling gold bubbling up to the edge of the surf. Nearby, on the sand, just touching my shoulder, settled my classmate. Rather, I should say, pretty and precocious girl.

And, slightly pridvinuvshis to me, she asked — so I felt a gentle breath in his cheek:

— And why would you now like?

I answered without hesitation:

— To become immortal! Because it is unworthy of man to be the eternal servant of space and time. That is, I wanted to say — impermanence and to a slave …
I am convinced that human ingenuity will soon find ways to beat a bunch of old age and death. And I want it to happen in my lifetime. I want to be forever young! I do not want to watch the sunset, and instead of enjoying the magnificent play of light and color to think about that and my life here so go out. Not even that. Indeed, in old age there is nothing wonderful — one malformation. And you'll be an ugly old woman, and then you die. There is no consolation in religion — tales for the gullible! And there's no sense in this life, like my or your parents and grandparents, and parents of parents of parents … Marry, spawn children, grow old, grandchildren and wait to die? For this pipeline should not have to be born!

Some time after my violent tirade, she asked with a strange intonation:

— Do not you want to have a family and children? ..

— Of course not! Do not you understand? ..

But she did not seem to understand.

Sucked the last ray of sun over the edge horizon, from the ocean blew cold wind and gray shadows stirred in the rocks near the pier. Shivering and shivering, we went to the sand and headed to the exit from the beach. The sunset together we never admired.

Much later I realized that all the wishes and dreams come true sooner or later. And literally true. But why we do not do this to us happier? Maybe it's because happiness is not available robots?

Today, as a practical immortality — a reality, and is about to happen mass awareness of this fact, the most important and priorities are the following:

As we all live indefinitely your life?

We do not lose in this himself finally and irrevocably already?

Do not expect us in the near future, something far more frightening than physical death?

Can we avoid such a future?

What you need to do?

The answers to these questions and of my book. Her style of writing may seem a bit unusual — it's because it corresponds to a new era.

Survive today — is to accept the very life as a teacher and set foot on the path of knowledge, refusing deadening mechanistic laws of pseudoscience and false maps of reality. The probability that the trajectory of the shortest path from point A to point B — direct, in the space of life is vanishingly small. Most often, such a trajectory is close to the electrodes. Often, but not always.

The book — it's not puzzle, you can just read it, and not to solve. But if you want to read, except for aesthetic pleasure and increase your erudition, brought even any good, try to come to this process with an open mind. Do not look in the text of the familiar logic of construction, read not fit into the framework of morality in the plane of the "good-bad". Just forget about they use for their[1] complexes until the turn the last page. However, do as you wish. Trust in yourself.

And I can only hope for one thing. That now, when you, dear reader, it is run through the eyes of those words, the questions posed above, and the need for their own performances more puzzling, yet look or attempt to draw a hoax. If so, then maybe you have a little more time. Put your business, read quickly, but thoughtfully. Read this book and send to relatives and friends. After reading, you'll know what to do next. Knowledge — the power![2]


PART 1. Remembering DEATH



Prehistory

I was born in San Diego, the largest port city in Southern California, near the border with Mexico, the son of Russian immigrants and Mexican girl from a wealthy family. Alexander I was named after a Russian poet, who by birth, however, was an African[3]. My second name — probably a tribute to the former governor of California, who later became president[4]. Perhaps the parents had an attack of local patriotism.

His father, after leaving his homeland, however, stayed true to the Orthodox faith, and on Sunday went across town to the only district in the Russian Church — Parish of St.. John of Kronstadt. Local parishioners, mostly immigrants in the second and third generations, long shunned him, suspecting that he was a secret agent of the KGB. Her mother was a staunch Catholic, though with a large admixture of Indian beliefs. For my parents could not agree to what the church and in which faith to baptize, deciding in the end that, when I grow up sometime We define himself. So I grew up in an atmosphere of religious, national and political confusion.

At home, in Soviet Russia, my father was a doctor. While, like most intellectuals, in an internal conflict with the totalitarian communist regime, he wanted to emigrate to other countries, the "free world." Once he managed to get the ship's doctor on a merchant ship and sailed for several years all over the world until fate gave him a good opportunity. Ashore in Tijuana — almost out of money, having himself only the most valuable — he disappeared without a trace in the confusion of Mexican commercial port.

Thanks to a good knowledge of Spanish and English, and most importantly — a rare gift of sympathy with the strangers, the father managed to cling to a group of Mexicans who were going to illegally immigrate to the U.S.. Among them was the brother of my future mother, who quickly made friends with the "eccentric Russian doctor" and brought him to his sister's house in the suburbs of San Diego.

The house is located near the missile range, and the roar of rockets taking off from birth, was a familiar sound to me and family. Same family seemed to me a huge southern stars and Russian speech, then almost forgotten me.

When I was a child, my father often sat up late into the night under the open sky, holding me in her lap, drinking tequila and telling me weird Russian fairy tales. He loved to repeat the fantastic stories about space travel, flying to distant worlds and the infinity of human cognition. So I went to sleep listening to it. And in the evenings, when my father was working, I heard eerie legends and ancient Indian songs my grandmother.

Father's medical diploma and experience in the practice of medicine, acquired when he was a ship's doctor, allowed him to quickly find a "good job in the specialty" — to become a nurse in the hospital's morgue. The peak of his career was the position of pathologist at the same hospital.

Father's life was tragically cut short at the age of thirty-eight years old, when I was eight. Mother has long suspected him of having an affair on the side. These Sunday visits to the church, which began to take from him all day, and frequent delays on work created in their relationship more and more stress.

It is getting nervous and the fact that their marriage was not officially supported by the authority of the Church. They decided to get married when my mother was already heavily pregnant. But suddenly there was an insurmountable barrier. It turned out that an Orthodox Christian and a Catholic can not marry. According to church law, both spouses had to believe not only in Jesus, and in very specific — or Orthodox, or Catholic. This was a certain logic, since the two of Jesus even born on different days with a difference of almost two weeks[5].

My parents had an angelic patience, they are more forgiving to me — because I was an only child. But occasionally I started pestering them, "How can someone, even the son of God, born twice, and did not allow it to him in life to celebrate every year the two events?" I was really interested, but parents theological disputes were not able to conduct and did not like. Such questions brought them to fury, recalling some illegitimacy of their marriage. The conversation turned into a fight they started shouting for me to run around the house and then when I crouch in some inaccessible place, have each other. His father was the stronger, but the mother agile and treacherous. While he raised his hand on her fist, she had time to grab a kitchen knife and ran into the street with the cry, "Help! This Russian bear wants to kill me and the baby! "Then of course they were reconciled, and to dull the sense of guilt before an inquisitive child, give me some money — in a movie or amusement.

One day all of a sudden end. Late one night in a fit of jealousy mother rushed to his father's work and found him there, in the workplace, that is in the morgue. But not another corpse was carried away, and the young mulatto-nurse. I still do not know what happened that night and I was told — an accident. One way or another, but the father I have not seen. Of course, I was present at the funeral, but for some reason was sure that what is in the coffin — not my father. He is somewhere else, far away, perhaps in its mysterious Russia, or cruising the starry sky, which he loved so much …

With her mother after that, I talked a little as soon continued my education in private boarding school, and I've been home only on holidays. On my last trip before going to the University of mother gave me part of his father's things, including those with which he first set foot in the Americas. I was particularly interested in a thick notebook with yellowed by time sheets, densely-packed it with his hand. I immediately realized that this is a personal blog, though it was written in the obscure to me in Russian. Much of this manuscript further define my career.

Then he studied at the university, engaging in illegal business in the United States on imports of psychedelic drugs from Mexico and Peru trouble with the law, travel, meetings and partings, freedom from addiction, introduction to new and old spiritual traditions and even totalitarian sects[6]… And much more. Some of these events, I'll be back.

(Back)


Earth roads lead not to Rome …

When someone wants to emphasize the importance of the challenges ahead, he said: "It is for me a matter of life and death!" Usually these things do not joke, and we permeated with sympathy, try something to help and reassure the person. Because such figures of speech show a very special area of our being — the one where the boundaries are.

How big this border, or rather, cross-border area? One can assume that it extends from the first moment of understanding the presence of borders, limits of life and to achieve them, that is, until the complete cessation of life, to death …

Is the border of being something real, whether it is being characterized by any living creature, any thinking, aware of their identity or subject only to the human being? Why today, this limit is similar to the wall from the ground to the sky, which abut the roads — the wall, written and izrisovannuyu so that in the eyes dazzled?

The most notable graffiti on the walls, executed in the style of buying and joyless. It reads:

NOTHING MORE

On top of it and around many others. Someone's hand is clearly uncertain tried to correct the statement.

ON must be something …

But timid hope dissipated dark and weighty:

There is no return!

The rest — a motley interweaving statements of different periods and styles — is frightening, the sedative and even drum up, the disconcerting. You will be punished, the sinner!

REPENT before its too late!

You will be saved

YOU EASIER

Go in peace

Bliss awaits you …

You'll find the torments of hell …

…For all time!

Eternal rest

…In a fat pasture

You will soon come back

Today and every day! Beginningless and endless! ATTRACTION "wheel of samsara"[7] — BACK GUARANTEE! MEMORIES for a fee …

There's nothing there, But here too

PARADISE fallen soldiers

Suicides and apostates — TO HELL FOREVER!

MEET YOU my lesson?

Relatives and friends are waiting for you

Just a dream …

IF YOU DID NOT … IF YOU ARE NOT RECEIVED … IF you do not recognize … IF you do not belong … You will be very, very, VERY BAD!

EVEN IF YOU ONLY BABY …

Burn in hell!

Fear not — not for long!

THERE WILL BE ALL

THERE YOUR HOUSE

And so on.

The wall was once pristine, colorless and therefore invisible. Until the very last moment. By the thought that reaching it, a man enters the mist fades, dissolves in it. Last breath — and now it is no more. Those who have seen it, and sometimes tried to keep the outgoing or follow, but dense invisible barrier to keep them out. Only organic flesh, less and less like what it was in life, remained at the Wall. The sight of her, Frigid ossification, alternating decomposition, followed by degradation of the vile smell of complex structural framework into a set of simple substances, suitable only for fertilizer, disgust and fear. Therefore, from the remnants of flesh trying to quickly get rid of — deeply buried, burned, thrown into water or allowed to be eaten by wild animals and birds.

We move, stand, or even try to go back — sooner or later, but at about the same time, we are facing the Wall. For many centuries in the invisible boundaries of being turned into a wall, whole cities grew intricate architecture of the buildings, populated by fantastically dressed priests and ministers of the Wall. They have a lot of books and paintings, filled with stories of how and why there was a wall and what was on it. Some clerics, and many kept to themselves, and often, to be honest, quite suspicious types, say clearly see what is happening on the side walls, even the been there and were able to return. Many believe them. Many, frightened or frightening prospect seduced by dreams of future bliss, money and share a meal with various priests and storytellers, hoping for a better fate in the upcoming suspense.

Of those who have a continuous flow moving through the fog boundaries of existence, do not believe anyone in anything. No person except a special priestly caste special god. These priests called "scientists", and God — "Scientific and technological progress," or simply "science." Until recently, the priests of science does not claim to the Other World, presumably beyond the wall. They even denied that there is generally something. And the few from their ranks who thought otherwise, called charlatans and drove away. Since there is nothing behind the wall, the holy goal for most priests of science was using expensive gimmicks and pills to slow down to the wall and eventually stop it altogether. But with their usual candor, bordering on cynicism, they do not hide the fact that this goal will be achievable only for those who regularly brings a generous tribute to their god — money, thanksgiving, and the time spent on playing with his idols and ritual objects.

A very special and quite recently smallest category borderland inhabitants — full return of the priests. Usually from large religious communities to drive off, so they are kept apart. All too dramatically, due to the full return, or resurrection, is too great a responsibility. Bad experience or humbug in this area compared with repeated murder. Surprisingly, there are not only thinkers and dreamers universal return, and practice — businessmen, thus earning their bread and butter.

Yes, the population is diverse and complex structural borderland: priests, healers, scientists and charlatans-inovidtsy visionaries, philosophers, mad … What will happen with all of them, if the boundary suddenly disappear or move to areas inaccessible to them?

But you are unlikely to be seriously concerned about the fate motley camp dependents Rim. This dark Disneyland is sure to find other niches other white spots in one's self-knowledge, and will move to the new frontiers with their attractions and castles horror.

So is there a general limit of existence, whether the existence of the border with her life? These questions are not answered, not to find practical solutions to related tasks, without defining what a man and the world — and, oddly enough, what is happiness, harmony and meaning in life.


Stars — the quick and the dead

Thoughts about life, death, and even more of immortality is not often burdened mind the normal average person. And this is understandable. If it were otherwise, a person could be considered normal, and the average. And to ease human life in the mind, a plurality of protective barriers and fuse all that goes beyond everyday existence, all causing confusion and irritation rejected, displaced or, if you really dodge contact with unusual there is no way to be interpreted, due to acceptable "common sense" way.

As I said at the beginning, the natural condition of the child before the first encounter with the problem of death — is the lack of the idea of death, their own sense of immortality. Thoughts and concepts associated with immortality, he too, of course not — they are not required, because all matter of course. "Death" — just a word, an abstraction that does not have to do with you. Alien child's mind and "immortality" as a lack of "death" — what is not there at all, can not be absent. Quite pure enough, not turbid similar category of being. "I mean, I do not remember the time when I was not, I'll always be!"

The "normal" I was not even in my childhood. I often dreamed of death. In addition, with the five years I spent significant time in the hospital and the morgue, which include her father lunch. One day, after returning home from there, I once again wondered what death is. I first puzzled his mother. After listening to it for a long "explanation" and absolutely not impressed with them, I just asked, " why
people die? "not received a clear answer, only said inwardly:" What a clumsy me every time trying to convince the seriousness of any silly pranks! "Well, I'm not ashamed to admit it — I still think the death of the second largest absurdity. The second — after immortality.

Late at night, when my father and I admire the starry sky, I shared my thoughts. He had a long and merry laugh, and then said:

— How do you think the star — dead or alive?

— Of course, alive. See how they give us a wink! And if you look at them for a long time, you can feel that they are also looking at you.

— Well, they blink, because their light passes through the air.

— But they are watching!

— A grandfather's portrait in the living room — it also looks at you?

— Yeah, but … He's long gone, right? But he still looks just different.

— And the stars all look the same?

I felt a catch in the question and began to peer closely at a single star, then another … Indeed, there were so many that at first, at first glance, it seemed as if staring at you at once a huge crowd. As spectators in the stadium. Only after a while you begin to notice that the audience, though many, but among them, here and there one can see images
forgery. As the picture of President to the utmost, in the arms of a street photographer has to play. Or mannequins in a clothing store … No, dummy or doll from a different sense — they were never alive. Mannequin is watching! He … as a Russian satellite that is now slowly flying across the sky. Or a meteorite. Though he is off — there is not only no life, but was not and could not be.

All this flashed through my mind for a minute or so.

— Dad, some stars are not there, there are only pictures of them, but they're not dead, my grandfather, they're different …

I thought that the father begins to laugh again, but he was very serious.

— And how do you do it different? — He asked, somewhat stiffly.

— I. .. feel them. Right here. — I put my hand on her stomach. — And then, if we continue to look, here, too, but otherwise. —
I slowly raised my hand to the middle of his forehead. — A photo of my grandfather and there is the little star once said: "We are not what we seem!"

His father opened his mouth to say something, but at this moment in the doorway in the rectangle of light appeared dark silhouette of my mother.

— Hey, astronomers! It's time to brush your teeth and go to sleep!

The more we talk to that did not return. Only many years later did I realize how many of the things my father and I would tell each other how to learn a lot already. And now in my hands only a few thin threads that bind us. One of them — his diary. But I'll explain later.

Next: read the whole book, Alex, Ron Gonzales "Immortality. How to achieve it and how to avoid"

Category: The prophecies and predictions, visions and hypotheses

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