Stories
Revealing the mystery of books

My parents had a huge library of good books. Therefore, since childhood, I loved books too. No, do not read! And clean up the bookshelves. To get, I remember, all books to one and between them sit on the floor in the middle. I was attracted by the energy of creation, that came with high frequency from each piece. And then I thought once. Grabbing a thread of finished yarn, I dismantled the fiery element to the basics, what is called creativity. And understood, that from a single fire its inexhaustible power pours.

The author himself is inseparable from his creation.
Be at least one line, but in it the whole essence of the author is visible. His energy, even the flesh has long been, non-degradable. She lives not "on the pages of books", how to express human language is used. She has a lot more written stories.. As incomparable in volume a drop with the sea. So it can not be compared with anything. She in that role of the Holy Fire, which can light your way, light your torch from him. And later you light someone else’s.

Prose
Lucid dream vs. reality

How lucid dream differs from reality

When I began to dream lucid dreams in childhood, I enthusiastically studied their structure. I was interested in their material component, since the quality of all items did not differ from real.
for instance, I never wore shoes in a dream. Everywhere I went barefoot, even if it happened to step on a nail. I eagerly reveled in every step I took, trying to absorb all the sensations with the skin. I felt things with my hands, juxtaposing them with real life, trying to catch every bend with your fingertips. I tried on the tooth. It tastes good. And came to the main conclusion. The dream is just as material, like our life! And then the question arose: “how then is a lucid dream different from reality?". Degree of awareness! In reality, a person believes more in what is happening around, than in yourself.

Stories
How I learned to walk on the ceiling

The evening sweetly covered in a slap. The inner voice woke me up, that echoed me repeatedly: “You know how to walk on the ceiling”. But the incredulity of my nature, he was swept away like a fly, that so intrusively buzzing in my ear. Turning over to another barrel, I dozed off again. But then he went wild like a cricket, just repeating: "You can! Doubt – your enemy. They and poison – same. They will poison your vessel and leave no trace. Confidence with their drop – hefty sound is empty. She will reach, like heaven behind a star ".

No wonder cricket annoying woke me. Decided, dismissing past doubts. I stepped on the wall from the sofa, and, taking a couple of steps, suddenly remembered gravity. And right there, stop trying, fell on the sofa. Suddenly it dawned on the mind, what you need to do everything without unnecessary thoughts! And here is the confidence rod crepe. But how is the mind sometimes blind! A small speck of dust arises of doubt and again falls into the back. And here, discarding doom superfluous tinsel, I learned how to walk the ceiling.
Waking up, gratitude climbed from the pores of each. Well, who else so wisely tell the essence of things? Will direct in the necessary stream. In this manner, all dream lessons are priceless.. Only they need to be applied in life essentially.

Prose
Time

Or, why under the chiming clock, somehow on New Year's Eve, my watch stopped.

There is a time lag between the moments. In it, clear vision breaks the screen from the eyes. And opened wide, once, a story about a friend’s life, showing his whole story from birth. Scrolling forward like a movie, opened the future ahead.
Then I wondered: “If the whole story is fit in an instant in many years, that is, whirl of currents, what's the time called?". After all, its smallest particle cannot be compared with the whole era, win and not start playing, since a million of such eras can contain. But still can not take away the awesomeness. In an instant, borderless, can't even get a thought in, in connection with the slowness and cumbersomeness of his nature.
And here, I saw time and space – like a figure, construction, what is designed for the mind. Where memory with thought is given, as an alloy forging tool, what creates the frame in multi-storey buildings.
He holds everyone, crushing with our massif on our fragile bodies. But the mind, don't be so arrogant, rested on one and two, putting into great doubt "TIME". Ah yes. Each has its own design. Everyone has a different movement.. But the universal clock – bridle. And she was created to control, so that people in a hurry all their life go somewhere wrong.