Heart-to-heart letters: to MrRight from CCCP

I`m returning to the night. Lar.

P.S. If my letter or preceeding ones seem to you little sad – take it easy. All is momentary, and our lives, thoughts, emotions. Particularly our emotions… Sometimes it seems to me that you are only result of my imagination. And I talk to the wind…

Without dates ~~ March`90. (91?)

My dear friend, здравствуй!

How are you?

I received your letters and mine, returned from Japan. Difficult to find you. I`ll send you two letters, ne? My poetry to you. Do you like it? Funny, ne?

My dearest starry traveller, please don`t write to the address you wrote before. I do not live there. Your letters will be lost to that address. For now I live in a hostel, for a while, then – I hope to find something else, though it`s very difficult, because shortage of flats, – shortage of all – if you see news on TV, you can imagine that. For now I have a «койка-место» in hostel, literally – `bed-place` or `sleeping place`. It means several women, living in one room. We are not friends, we`re tired of each other, there are no common interests. It`s bad for me to be there in, I try to be anywhere only not at home – I leave hostel early, and come back about midnight. Such is life. But I`m not despairing of it. It`ll finish – sooner or later.

The main of all – this terrible winter has finished. How I was waiting the spring!

I decided to change my work in May, and changed all in my life – what is in my power – my power is a great inside energy that increasing every day.

This summer will be the turning-point in my life – I feel. The only I fear of such a thing as civil war, that is very possible. I`m not afraid of death, but I want to live, because for now I have a sense, or goal, I know what must I do. It would be the great unjustice to be killed in the prime of life, ne? – Bad theme.

Can you imagine I have ability to cure people. (Gift from grandfather).

So I take an interest in such things as magic, mysticism, philosophy, psychology and many other things. For now I`m interested in Buddhism, and China. This or next year I`m going to go there. – The end of the letter arrives before us – so – take care of yourself.

Write to me. I am waiting every day, every evening, etc

So long

Larisa.

Letter 6

18/03/90

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

Your letter from 27.02.90 disarms me, throws me into confusion. How can I – human, accustomed to speak about serious things, maybe the most sacred for myself, by ironical tone, creating a semblance that nothing is sacred to me? – How can I answer on your letter? The one is as a clear, tender voice of a flute at dawn, dewy morning, on which impossibly to pounce on by a cascade of heavy-metal in the glow of a fire.

`What will she say?` – what can I say about that – hardly be expressed even on native language? (How) can I find these words in chaos of thoughts and feelings? Can I get out from this dark maze towards the daybreak and openly smile for you?

…And now I`m walking to and fro in my room and meditating, my thoughts have travelled back to the past, looking through the whole life. I ask questions myself and try to answer. How can I?… – From the heart, too. –

Итак.

Who were, and are, you being for me? – at that time – in the train, and for now – in letters? I should say about a bewitching, mooving melody, has been heard by chance, in passing, but retaining in the heart for a long time, maybe, for ever.

What have I seen in the eyes of the stranger, that such excited and amazed my soul? – I don`t know.

Maybe, as sometimes it happens, – in unlimited searchings and vain throwings, – suddenly glance into one`s eyes and by the sixth feeling guess that something – incomprehensible by thoughts, that cannot be said by words, but inexplicably attracts. Alas, the instants fly away and this unexpressed and misunderstood something retains only in memory of the heart.

For now your existance sometimes seems to me abstract, almost unreal. The fact that, most kindly, we will never meet once again makes our existance for each other as if `non-existant`. Our communication through the correspondence of letters has a touch of a fantasy (for me). Play of imagination. Maybe, it`s even fine.

Oh, yes, it would be delightfully romantic – two strangers under a starry sky…

A starry sky – it`s beautiful.

The starry sky, in that I look for my God, – was looking for a long time, through the disbelief and despair, through labyrinths of doubts and `smoke of sigarettes`.

It`s difficult to find the Belief, when all Gods are thrown down, when all is pulled down to the dust and only chilling winds freeze a naked, defenceless soul.

It may seem that it`s bad for me. Not, I don`t complain. But (sometimes) this still hurts…– I`ll not speak about this any more.

`What does, and did, she think of my heart?` – dear Brad, what do I think? Just maybe I could have fallen in love with you. But the fate is taken us away to different sides. Each of us is going own road. – But that moment cannot be struck out of the life.

I would be listening to the flute at dawn, but I`m `moonchild, playing hide-and-seek with the ghosts of Down`.

I can only say by the words of Byron –

Remember me is all I ask.

But if remembrance proves a task – forget!

And what is more, 07.07.1990 I`ll be 24. Sunset of the life for me. I`ll not live `lo-o-ong and ha-a-appy`. Time is speeding. I`m retiring to the night. Adiue.

Good-bye!

Sincerely your – with love,

Larisa.

P.S. reading your letters I can say – I guessed.

Возможно, это письмо покажется тебе корявым или что-нибудь в этом духе – поверь, что оно искреннее, кончаю столь быстро, так как боюсь удариться в пустопорожний speech about nothing. Если стечение обстоятельств заставит меня замолкнуть – ты будешь извещен об этом моей cousin or brother.

So long. With love – Lar

P.P.S. I cannot feel your language. It`s sorry. What it means – `to be cautious of one`s letter`?

Letter 7

31.03.90.

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

Today I`ve received your letter from 09.03.90.

Thank you – it was so fine. But, as I can suspect, either you hadn`t my letter from about middle of February ~ 15-16.02.90, as if it `had lost` by road, or – I don`t know.

Though, it`s quite innocent. Of course, it`s a pity, but it`s get worse. Now I`m just after my work, so – there is no idea in my head. Yet, I prepared to write, maybe, whole the night. – I`m usual night-owl. I like to think or work at night. I love night time. Thoughts are very clean, emotions and feelings `fly up` from earth. – Fine!

Today I received a business letter from China – something about semigroup theory, sheer nonsense, – marasmus. Yet, I must read that, digest my reading – my God! No power. Not long ago I received a letter invitation on conference Hong-Kong-91, China-92. Such unexpectedly and undeservedly. What I am a scientist? – `a young hope`, then undisciplined student – one of thousands – in the past, – in present – I am a worthless mathematicion, hardly remembering the multiplication table, – in future – ? I hope, my descendants will go farther. Though, maybe, the last splash of my slumbering intellect, and – hello, Hong Kong!

It would be fine! It would be fine-fine!

Alas, it`s too late to begin all over again. My best years have sped away such useless! It`s my tragedy – not only mine and even not tragedy. I never worry about `what cannot be cured`. Simply – c`est la vie.

And, in general, Mathematics cannot peacefully coexist with a woman in one room, in particular, in mine.

Indeed, Math requires for head to be clean and cold and abstract. But I cannot be such lady – stone-heart, iron-nerves, ice-soul. (It seems to me, those people are most happy).

So, my `fervid` head presents a lot of odds and ends. Particularly, for now.

Thus => M&W=>MorW – quod erat demonstrandum!

My delightgul aunt, in her sententious speech on the occasion of my `broken fate`, utters: `Don`t forget – the assignment of woman is to bring up children`.

Then she begins to enumerate numerous dignities and brilliant qualities of young men, who `would be glad, not only glad, but happy` and… at her opinion, and – in my age, and … it would be fine… and… so on…

Usually I respectfully listen to her, smiling and noddling.

In the end we exchange phrases, such as:

– Look around! What do you see?

– Nothing extraordinary…

– Look into a mirror at last! You are already 23!

– Of course, I look into a mirror, at least, every morning. Yes, I`m only 23…

– Oh, terrible infant! Look into your future!

– Oh, dearest aunty! I`m not prophet.

I go away (from her) with philosophical mood and deep in thoughts about life. – What is our life? –

A short flash in the darkness, and, in a global sense, all is nothing – vanity of vanities. (My) life costs nothing. In the name of «What» I must flutter? – To attain success, any illusive summit – of something? Oh, let me live, love, laugh – as I want, – according to my own presentation about values of ` This World `, to see the world by my own eyes, to think my own thoughts, and, after all, to die my own death. – And nothing more…

All another is tinsel.

And, in-general, the life is X-game – any crazy chain of games, yes, I am the player. Yet, I live such, as if the life is a significant thing, but not forgetting this `as if`, i.e. in the terms said above, those games must be games of chance, else it`s lost once edge or a sense. Maybe, such approach to the life is going away from reality, but I quite perceive the last. It seems to me, – all of us are children playing `in life`. There exist the necessary rules for all – don`t kill, don`t harm, love one`s neighbour, etc – and there exist sets of rules for each – rules for one`s games.

I take into consideration the first (hold sacred!), but the second – it`s occuring to me for the course of events or a train of thoughts. I cannot foretell what an idea will dawn upon me tomorrow – to become an yogi or to marry, – the life is a coincidence, all is depending on circumstances. Though, not quite so…, even quite not so… – in short, I`ve lost in words (and, likely, in life). Indeed, what I`m a mathematician.

Yet, I try to continue.

Reading your preceeding letter, it seems to me, that you believe in God. I want to ask you: am I right? Indeed, do you believe? God – what it means (is) for you? What is your Belief?

It`s not iddle questions, not abstract interest.

The matter is that – I was being brought up as a `militant ` materialist, and such notion as God was alien for me. It was connected only with perverted knowledges about Christianity, gotten under powerful influence of anti-religious propaganda. I`ll not tell what an image was called up by the word `God` – nothing of respectable. I couldn`t imagine, it seemed to me so funny, that young men can believe in God. In my subconsciousness – there was only that had been knocked into my head (by school, etc).

I was so naive, I thought, that it`s the absolute truth. I`m a perfect boor in another outlooks. It`s interesting for me to have known others, besides creative-Marxism-Leninism. Of course, (for now) there exist the books, in which I should find the answers. But the book – is only book. Quite another matter – somebody`s belief, if it is indeed Belief – it can convince. Did you ever doubt your Belief? – if not – you`re probably a happy fellow.

To believe, the Belief – these words have so great meaning for me (just sacred). I lost ability to believe. Not to believe as to trust, I believe-trust in everything-to-everybody, but to believe in the global sense, – it`s over my power.

I can understand many things by my mind, heart. But any understanding is not belief. Understanding is an instrument, but the Belief is the great inside power, and it`s force – unlimited. That`s what I want to find. It`s necessary to know yourself, get to know the World. Probably, it`s the sense of life.

Everybody is looking for something. What is yours?

Of course, such questions must be discussed not in such a way (in foreign language). It`s necessary to see the eyes of interlocuter, the discussion must be animated, have a dialogic character – question-answer. But, alas, presence of absence.

What can I write any more? For example –

Now I begin to go in for sports. What kind – difficult to say – some special sequence of exercises, invented by me. I want to have a body `without bones`. And what is more, it`s good and useful for health and ideal relation `human-space`. It`s necessary for me to restore my wasted vital energy. I want to feel the space.

I have one `idee fixe` concerned with energy, one experiment at myself. The matter is that – my grand-grand father was very interesting man, not quite usual. He had a great power, likely, he was an extrasense. If to believe in legends (living untill nowadays), indeed, likely at that. It was being said that he could do exstraordinary things, he was shaman. I admire it and what is more – I want to study this phenomenon. Maybe – develop it in myself – why wouldn`t it? – I`m his descendant. It must be possible for me. I can suppose – what and how it`s done, but I know that, I feel. (here is necessary Belief, it`s power). My rest life will be concerned with it. It would be such interesting, but results cannot be foretold, though, I feel – all will be fine! If to try and throw away doubts and throwings – towards to God!

Life is beautiful and wonderful! At least, interesting. Fine!

Necessary to stop smoking at first, – it`s over my power. Maybe, when I`ll marry. Let it will be my wedding gift for a human, who will be made happy by me. (ha-ha)

The end of the letter arrives before us. Thanks for your care for my health, about smoking. I congratulate your future wife with such a wedding-gift as yours (i.e. «well-shaped body of you» :) ).

So long. // don`t forget me when you`re freed by Spring defeat of Winter. (Again plagiarism)//

Excuse my remarks. With love – Larisa.

Letter 8

05.05.90

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

I`ve received your letter from 30.03.90 – such long it`s travelling. Thank you! It`s so, so in-time, such beautiful. Possible, my replying letter will seem to you little sad or dreary. Sorry.

Simply – тоска…

There exists some mood, when there is only one wish – to have slept without waking. There are no emotions, feelings, energy for life – the only devastation хандра.

Without concrete reasons, at least, outside ones. But inside – it`s deeply rooted.

Sometimes it rolls as a wave of profound, causeless sadness. And sometimes – a maddening nostalgia. Rarely, but poignantly. But sometimes I feel myself such… – difficult to express – how, – either spleen or something more. Тоска…

I understand, it`ll end, sooner or later. But for now – it`s terrible. All colours of world grow dark. I`m sick of everything. Unbearable anguish oppresses the heart. And there is no salvation from this. Хочется послать все к черту или самой туда отправиться.

Your letter has saved me. I`m retiring – to the world, which such beautiful, created by our imagination. The world, in which – warm summer nights and the starry sky. There are much music, lights, Youth and Beauty. There are – dewy morning, free wind, cloudless sky. There are…

Do you hear music?

Oh, my dear stranger, may I engage you for a dance?

We`re dancing under a starry sky or in the Heaven, among stars and comets, or – we`ve become comets and we`re flying through the space towards far, strange worlds. The cosmic dust cover our tracks…

We are children of the Earth and our world is wonderful. Печаль моя светла…

For now – deep night. The window is opened and far stars smile me tenderly and sadly – one of them – mischievously. Look at the sky. Do you see the One? It is the most bright. I present this star to you.

Good-bye!

With love –

Larisa.

P.S. If you see a falling star – guess a wish, сбудется.

«Откуда, – спросишь ты, – волна моей печали,

Что бьётся как прилив о каменный утёс»,

– Kоль сердца урожай однажды мы собрали,

Жизнь – это только боль! К чему же твой вопрос?

(Baudelaire `Semper eadem` – one of my favourite poets./ in translation to Russian)

Letter 9

8/05/90

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

Oh, how beautiful your letters! – I`ve loved them. They open the wonderful soul, – soul of poet, dreamer, romantic. Such beautiful that there exist such people, – people, who see the Color of the Wind, who hear the `гул вечности`, whose hearts are vulnerable by Beauty.

How I understand you! I touch with your soul and hear the heartbeat. Your letters, – oh, – I cannot compare it with something, – yes, – Difficult to explain the Color of the Wind, it must be felt. – They inspire me to live, to look at the sky, to believe.

They drop a spark into my heart, unfreeze it.

How I pine for the Dawn, for the Harmony of lost world, for the melody of love. Such a tender sadness, such a lightful nostalgia… my God! Can it really be true? I read over and over and over…

How I`m grateful to fate, thrown me into the train to meet your eyes. I`m afraid to lose you, my friend, I`m afraid that thin thread of our communication suddenly will be torn, and mirage`ll clear away – left only a bitter smile and a lonely echo.

It`s a beautiful night-dream. What will the morning have brought with it?

Tomorrow I`ll go to official journey, untill 15/06/90.

And again in Novosibirsk`s Academgorodok. It`s the town of my youth, my alma-mater.

There`s a little pain to return there again and again. Maybe, one day I`ll return there for ever. Who knows?

I think, this year I`ll been living here still, but I cannot suppose where I`ll be next year.

Life can play solitaire topsyturvy. Please, write me to the address of my aunt. They always know where I am.

Your previous letter was gotten by me just after my long journey in Academgorodok. That splin was called up by this. I`m sorry that I splash out my mood upon you, but I cannot write against myself. – Прости, так вышло…

Крик среди моря!

Чьё сердце, ставши волною, – о волны грусти! – в море кричало? Голос, откуда голос? Какие крылья занесли тебя в пучину?

…каждый вал тебя увлекает, и – вал рассекая грудью, острей чем плавник дельфина, – ты снова исходишь криком: хрипом, хрипом, хрипом…

О, крыльев парус бессильный! На крыльях ласточки хрупкой все дальше, все глубже, глубже, глубже…

Крик среди моря!..

Разве поможет звездное эхо?..

Крик среди моря!.. (Мачадо или Хименес?)

…..

Thank you for your wish for my love. But marriage and love are different notions, not always together. I prefer the second, yet.

Question of a marriage – I never took it seriously. Only with `ha-ha`. Though some people still try to convince me in a historical necessity of this great deed `for the welfare of mankind`.

By the way, if your name is pronounced in Russian, more softly or tenderly [Brad]=>[Bred], it`s get `Bred`=Бред. In Russian it means `fantasmagoria, figment of imagination`. Does it flatter for you? (Excuse my childish trick. It is I – `so-and-so`).

It seems I digressed from the theme. – As always.

Such is woman`s nature.

But if to say not mind, but heart – heart waits for one, who will be the only. It`s ready to wait for a long. Unless it`ll have frozen over completely. Life is cruel, it breaks illusions, dreams; it convert lyric into cynic, lamb into ram. – Anything may happen. Yet, life is beautiful. And heart knows, and waits.

…`Maybe, he will be a stranger on a long night train?` – oh, it would be too romantic, too incredible for it to be real.

But in `that reality` – all is possible.

F.e. imagine – written love, kiss, marriage – and all charms and thorns of it in written form. (Again I laugh, but here is any bitterness).

Ветерок постучался негромко

В мое сердце при свете зари

– Я принес ароматы жасмина,

Ты мне запахи роз подари.

– мой сад зарастает бурьяном

И все розы мои мертвы.

– я возьму причитанья фонтанов,

горечь трав и опавшей листвы…

ветерок улетел… моё сердце в крови…

Душа! Что ты сделала с садом своим…

Why I`m so intimate with you in the letters, as diary. Maybe, because you become the part of my soul?

Yes, you are my invisible friend, not only friend – somebody more than… than real friend, – yes, part of soul.

It is funny to live, ne? Too funny. For now it`s rain. What is rain? – Maybe – tears. What is love? What is life? I knew only what is laugh. Laugh at life, laugh at myself, laugh at this world, at the crowd, trampling the best feelings.

Maybe my city – Ulan-Ude will soon be opened and you can come to me – в гости. Would you like to come to CCCP once more? Or to Novosibirsk. There – are all my friends.

Not farewell!

This summer I`ll have more spare time, so I begin to study Eng. Seriously. For now my success in that is only ability to read adapted books, such as `Pooh-the-Bear` or `Winny-the-Pooh` – such a nice book, ne?

`It will be then`. I wait for your letters, not only replying ones.

With love, Larisa.

One more paper.

For now I am sitting in airport and waiting for airliner. And contemplate the crowd around me. And more – I am writing to you. It`s a pity – here is no my loved dictionary, yet, I try to write in terms of words, known by me. What about?

f.e. about life.

What do you want from life? From yourself? Even – what do you expect? How your Romantism… feel itself… in real life or where are you – flying in clouds or between Heaven and Earth?

You remind me of my darling little brother. His name is Alexander or simply Sasha or Shura. I very-very love him. He always can understand me withour words, – understand and forgive. He is poet (and math too). And, in-general – handsome boy. As I can see, he cannot decide what he`ll do in life. Such many doubts, hesitations, throwings.

Where is the Truth? Where is my way? Who am I? What am i? etc.

Each human one day must have done the choice. I think 25 is critical point for it. Now I stand on the cross-roads and try to define the direction for me. (There exist a proverbial such as `yoga or marriage` only for our circle of my friends-girls). And I cannot – my head is cracking at the seams.

Let me think one more year, until 25. To find myself.

Indeed I want to begin to go in for yoga – to knowledge. My idee-fixe is concerned with it, but not with Math, this factory, this life.

Question of marriage… difficult to say.

What is marriage? If it`s necessity, then this one, i.e. necessity can wait for 25, or more far. Because as I can see the life, woman in marriage must do a choice – `either-or`. Such many problems. F.e. imagine if she stand in a queue during 2-3 or 4 hours, then she must do her work with such mood, after that. What will be?

I saw many women in marriage, simple women – I do not want to be like they. The only thoughts in their mind – where it can be bought? How much it is cost? Etc, – nothing of Romantic, more, they stand only on the earth, do not look at the sky, not dream.

My aunt says that I am torn from reality, and my parents too.

But if human is such?..

I am not torn from this life, but I can live in many realities simultaneous. And this fact stops me to have done the choice. Because –

1) if: to go in for Yoga, – way to perfection requires from human to be perfectible, i.e. many human qualities (weakness=слабость) must be killed. But I too love life, I`m a woman and all properties of them are not alien to me.

2) but if: to live only as woman, – тоска… always I`ll feel that it isn`t mine. I`m tearing between 1) and 2), between 3) and 4) and so on.

I fear, I am afraid of crucial step, I fear that I cannot fight for or against.

Human is created for … what?

For getting to know the World, the Universe, (maybe understand of God), not only by mind, or only heart; human must self-develop, – self-perfect – and soul, and heart, and intellect, and body.

Thirst of Knowledge, thirst of feeling of the Harmony of the World, of love. Human must fly in mind, by soul. Human must …..

I believe in Human (Human soul is my God, maybe). God is soul?

Not long ago I`d remembered strokes – something from ancient Indian (?):

Внутри себя раскрепости себя –

Тогда придет великая Свобода…

What is the absolute Freedom?

God and `absolute-inside-Freedom` can exist simultaneous or not?

Inside freedom – is my Dream, my Goal. Maybe.

Yet, sometimes I feel myself as a simple, weak woman, who needs in Love. Sometimes I want to be a business human. Such many wishes.

It`s difficult to understand oneself. What I want indeed? – To sleep… I am tired.

Yet, I`m ready to begin all over again. Last splash of youth…

Why I write you this? Maybe because you`re my special friend. You become the part of my soul, of my life.

I hope – eppur si muove!

With love – your far friend – Lara.

P.S. I very wait for your letter – one more life, maybe more beautiful than others.

Letter 10

23.05.90

Dear Brad, здравствуй!

Again night, table-lamp, letter (to nowhere). Three things that have become the part of my life. And more – it`s raining…

A rain in Academgorodok is a beautiful picture. A small town in a large forest, – and rain…

It calls up dreams, – the mood, given up to reverie.

Do you like thunderstorm?

What do you do for now? – Ah, you are reading this letter? – Indeed. – And I – am writing…

In thoughts for now I`m – somewhere – far away from here, maybe, in Noda-shi.

I try to guess your mood, when you`re reading, to see your eyes when you smile, – to feel you.

What would you do if suddenly you saw me this moment before you, – at midnight?..

Look up! – I`m here. – Don`t afraid of me. – I`m not a ghost, – I am the guest. – your guest – forgive my late visit. – Terrible storm. – Awfully in the forest. – I`m such numb and wet. – Please, let me warm myself about your fire…

I`ll tell you stories about wonderful things, or I`ll be listening to you, or, the better, – let keep silence and contemplate the rain.

Ливень ласки и грусти прошумел в захолустье…

Such pleasant to sit in a lightful, cosy room, be wrapped in a dry, warm plaid and to look through the window, and there – rain, night, summer…

Maybe, let`s go for a walk? Such fine to walk along night streets, jumping over pools, catch drops of the rain by lips, laugh, play the fool, ne?

Indeed, fine. Ah, if it were not for.

Откуда такая нежность

И что с нею делать, отрок?..

What is the difference between `tender bitterness` and `bitter tenderness`?

Dear boy, if you had known who you`re for me…

Such a wonderful story…

Our descendants will be wondering.

Maybe, they will not know such a notion like boundary. I even envy them. They will meet and, who knows, maybe have fallen in love with each other and marry, or simply become friends. And their parents or grandparents, i.e. we, – we shall pour forth wisdom. But maybe, we`ll go for a walk under a starry sky, ne?

Good bye!

With love, Larisa.

P.S. Not farewell! I see we`ll meet soon. I see, because I`m magicion. Believe me, it`s true. I can see future as my ancestor. (Sometimes)

And in general, I begin to take a great interest in `occult sciences`. Such interesting, such wonderful!

At least – it`s my (new) `idee-fixe`. But seriously. Do you believe in magic? – if not – I`ll show you something to convince, f.e. suddenly appear before you.

Do you want – I`ll teach you that.

До встречи! – Untill our meeting in `nowhere`.

I kiss you through the rain. Don`t forget, write me. So long. Larisa.

Letter 11

16.06.90

To my dearly beloved friend.

Здравствуй, Brad.

I`ve returned to you from Academgorodok.

I read your letter that was waiting for me for a week.

How wonderful to receive your letters.

I wonder again and again – is it really?

It seems to me that ability or possibility to wonder makes our life bearable, ne? Human needs something astonishing, surprising, – human lives by expectance of Wonder.

And if one hasn`t lost the ability to wonder, to amaze, to admire of – be it echo from nowhere, or dawn, or sunset, – life doesn`t lose the sense, ne?

I left my dipression. And dream again.

Today my big brother came to me and asked: `Is it true, that you have fallen in love with an american? You cannot find soviet? You`re crazy?`

He understand nothing. – Another matter my little brother. He writes me: `Lska (it`s my name in his interpretation), you are starry-eyed. I pray that you will be happy`. So it goes.

Yes, maybe, indeed I`m little crazy, unworldly, yet, it`s the better. Human must have `a little craze`, his own craze.