A FOREIGN GIRL was ready to jump over the bridge...
She has a blonde hair, blue eyes and a petite build.
"It's a shame you look good, - I'm shouting at her in English, - let's have a love adventure before you commit sucide!"
"Not with you", she cries. "Just jolt me, mister!"
"If you killed yourself I would have gotten unlimited fun with your body!"
Now her face shows deep disgust...
The sucide plan failed through the bridge instead of her.
"You don't look like a maniac! Are you selling organs? My kindey'd be missing?" - She's reacting with burst of all the possible emotions at once, both positive and negative.
"I'm selling you a date with me!"
"I don't know... maybe... Let's try it for a while... What's your name? I feel I've seen you before at my University! Are you a teacher?.."
Since that occcasion we started dating, but that was just another bonus to the list of my tortures...
WITH TORTURE, the best results come after three days of episodic abuse. The more obstinate wills are slowly broken. I tortured myself all of March 2017, when SIX devices were applied to my soul and adjusted to my body:
1 A military rhetoric of revenge, taken from the news
2 Failure with girls, including the sucide one
(now I'm even more convinced that the fault was mine)
3 Disappointment in myself
4 The wish for a better life
5 Addiction to the forbidden tapestry of desire
(on WarmTub.mom)
6 My friend Vlad, who once teetered on the brink of sobriety, lost his way during his PhD on the topic 'Meteors in Oceanus Procellarum' and now drinks oceans of beer
LET'S START with the first device. What have Russians contributed to the world? Vodka, the AK-47 rifle, and the Classical Culture of the 19th Century. All of the Trinity is harder than a coffin nail. Feel free to discuss presidents, pot, relationships, and religion with us, but please, never bring up World War II. It's best not to touch on the topic of Crimea and homosexuality either. Tread carefully, or the conversation might drag on and become a dragon...
That’s not about me, though. I’m always friendly to everyone. I show off my nonviolent smile, Nordic pale skin, Ukrainian surname, and some basic English words. But since 2014, even that hasn't worked out well. I've been accused of being Russian so many times that now, in most cases, I'm basically prepared to be seen as a "fish-like and frog-like aquamorph, genetically adapted to live within a totally toxic environment, with gills on the chest and paddles on the legs" (thanks for describing this monster, Mr. Dougal Dixon). But I was save and clean. So far. Only one thing has truly poisoned my "gills" and cut my "paddles."
MY SECOND SELF-TORTURE DEVICE.
A GIRL, that I'd saved before.
She went by a typical European double name, in documents separated by a hyphen: 'Eva-Elfie Corelen'. A Russian adult film actress with the same groovy COG-NOMEN rose to fame only a few years later, so it seems like mere coincidence: two Evas alike in appearance and false innocence. At the same time, she wasn't the girl-next-door type; she was more of a hysterical noblewoman, similar to Eva Greensbourg.
I met Elfie, when I taught Russian and she taught French. Her students did not learn it at all though. She’d been raised and trapped in Paris, in a rich family. Her father, a practical but kinky Jew, had a busy dental office there and even invested in a local McDonald's, half-jokingly hoping it might bring in new cavity patients. In contrast, his daughter Elfie, always wanting to empower herself and show her independent leftish side, decided to sign an agreement with the Siberian University, where the germ of life had died likely in the Cambrian times.
So Elfie felt a desire to hang herself on the bridge just in her very first workday...
"Stressed, let's do it on Sunday, my BLABLABOL!" her text read.
We finally met in the bedroom's embrace,
Then,
"I hate your country!" Elfie exclaimed in English (she hadn't mastered Russian), as she pushed against me. Her anger and passion collided in a Coelho-esque dance for 11 minutes. Now a 20-second COUNTDOWN...
"Your people don't speak other languages (19sec), never smile, eat bland Chinese fruits, and are obsessed with material possessions. This is the cheapest country I've ever seen, utterly gas-parasitic! (16sec) There is no place for me here to dance swing or enjoy coke! You even make love like animals (yes, even now!) and your favorite word, 'DAVAJ,' seems like the anthem of militarists and harassers! One taxi-driver held me in his cab for 30 minutes. He just repeated DAVAJ and laughed, while I was screaming: NE NADO! STOP!" (11sec)
"Well, Elfie, when we smile, it's genuine. 'DAVAJ' means we're enthusiastic! A driver is a notorious city madman, who laughs at his own laughter. (9sec) Swing and cocaine is too bourgeois for a leftist like you. Instead you should try our boooorscht!"
She fleshed her perfect teeth, all the while moaning.
"Your weird soup with cherry beer?.. But stop! Are you encapsulated? Give me some fuel inside! yesyesyesnostopnostopnostop!"
3, 2, 1 --
Our rocket started off into explosion...
A flinch of the muscles!
Now we're muted for a moment. My scantily lit room smells of egg noodles, shrimps and wine. Sated, Elfie decorates my sofa like la colonne Vendome. She neither wears a bra, nor does makeup, but she offers her Parisian «bye» to the bus drivers.
"Next time, give me some fuel INSIDE!"
"Eva, I'm afraid that if my comet were to crash into your depths, it might create rather new death — much like the Chelyabinsk meteor did in Russia."
"I'll eat up the Western pills. Progestin, ella... That's all right. West always would help you in such a catastrophe!"
"Elfie, you've never seen Africa, which has been 'helped' by West for five hundred years! Your grandparents didn't live this way. Contemporary liberalism is a pharmacological experiment spanning the last sixty years. We're still uncertain of its results."
"The biggest result is in your bed now and I'm free! We care about Africa, the queer people will make a revolution there soon, it's just you're a vile person!" – Her voice sounds cartoon-pitch.
"Would you sleep with a black guy then?"
"Never! C'est ridicule! It sounds compelling... the way YOU like!"
There are scars on her back from childhood. She was telling everyone, that her father used to punish her, having later one-handed applause in the quiet theater of his room, where the audience and performer were the same character. Maybe in France it wasn't considered a grave crime. Or perhaps she was lying.
Wikipedia of my mind works well:
"Henry Mayhew, a founder of the journal 'Punch', once said that English would eventually surpass Russian and French globally, just as it had overshadowed Welsh or Common Brittonic within Britain. So, in a way, we're both colonized."
She complains:
"Yes, I don't like that English stands between us!"
"Neither do I. But it's a gift. Ivan the Fool from a village long ago might never have crossed pathsin his lifetime with a figure as pervert as Manon Lescaut from France... but now..."
She retorts:
"Ivan the Fool from fairytales? Oh, I've only known Russia through literature. I even wrote a book. It blends the vibes of Harry Potter and Anna Karenina. But who cares!" [*The beginning of this book should be found at the end.]
"I care! But I need to grade the students' writings for now! Please, no harmful topics or arguments!"
Pause. My gaze and thoughts drift away into a pile of Chinese essays. Wang Li, Zhang Mei, Chen Yu... a lot of work to be done…
>>The history of my city, Irkutsk, is a quite simple steampunk novel, if you believe the Chinese perspective. First, mammoths and woolly rhinos inhabited the earth, then the Huns reshaped Europe. Siberia ostensibly belonged to a Chinese descendant of Genghis Khan, followed by the Cossacks with their merchandise, spiced teas, and the Trans-Siberian Railway. Boom BAM! Out of the blue, Admiral Kolchak-Brambeus rolls in, a big fan of Christ and Asian tortures. The progressive Marxists were like, “Surprise!” and Kolchak was timely murdered by their machines. Meanwhile, the Ananta soldiers seized Irkutsk, as Russian ladies couldn't resist those French-Czech accents... Nowadays, Chinese students see in Irkutsk a source of admiration, administration, fresh water, forests, and, eventually, opportunities for POV studies. So, what is Irkutsk/Russia like now? A blend of Europe, Asia, and something unique? A magnificent Centaur with a Dragon's tail that wandered off the mythological reservation? BU ZHI DAO (no idea), but Chinese students adore it anyway, as it's a door to their promising future with excellent grades from a teacher...>>
A French teacher was getting dressed.
This time, I mock her:
"... IF I'M ADAM ORC for you, then why did you date with me, Eva Elfie? How about being inseparable, like a binate leaf?"
"Everyone seems so mute here, my dear. I felt I had no other choice to be chatted with! But don't worry, I'm not attached!" She rolled her eyes with a hint of sadness. "I don't believe in a mysterious Russian soul anymore! What's that?"
"Love."
"Love-hate!"
"A vivid dream of love..."
"A self-destructing dream!"
"I see, Eva, you hate me! Remember, how in a cafe you provoked all my friends, seducing a waitress. You said that a sweet ECLAIR on a plate reminds you of a sex toy from your dorm and you'd like to use it ON HER AND ON ME, because (was it sort of advertising?) I'm a good slave for women and my body is soft! Friends horrified, a waitress blushed, and I'm... I'm just publicly humiliated!"
"Forget your friends! They make you vile! How about skyping with my father or brothers?"
"I'm not sure I want to, Elfie. I heard a story about a guy who was serving in Caucasus (it's like your Algeria). He had a fling with a local Muslim girl and woke up the next morning with his dick cut off."
"Ugh! No! There's nothing like that with us. We're pro-sexual freedom, if it FATHERS or BROTHERS you so much. I don't need your endless stories."
"What's a story of your future?"
"Let's say... ecstatic yoga movies. We could film it together, Antoine, and be rich!"
"A pirate and a mermaid playing in a cave?"
"Never! I mean a spiritual yoga!"
"I'd prefer an MMA yoga of our Fedor Emelianenko — a fighter who took the sport from sideshow spectacle. Let's Get This over With again, Eva! On Your Marks. Get Set. Go!"
*What an incredible fight! A male fighter rushes and tries a leg attack on a French girl to get a passionate takedown. Elfie crossed her shapely legs, stuffs the takedown and lands a picture-perfect shot in his groin! Side kick to the thigh! Great job by her! The champion is cut!*
"Eva! Auch!"
"Sorry! It was out of fear! I just want to go for a walk now! Forget your Theodore's style! Not like animals, please!"
With that, she slammed the door, leaving me beaten in the darkened room. Elle deteste la Russie, elle se sent tres mal ici…
I peep out of the window for a moment:
R R R R R R
A A A A A A
I I I I I I
N N N N N N
Why was this TORTURE happening? How did I, a native Siberian guy, who's caught up in this strange fetish? I'm starting to psychoanalyse myself. I was fourteen when I first got in a fairy-tale called Through the Forest from a Monster.
>>My daddy forgot me in a wilderness to entertain himself with cute tourists, something I could have prevented by reminding him of my mother. Imagine being stuck in a dense forest, completely lost, scared, and blinded by the darkness. My only stroke of luck was having a gun. After wandering for about an hour in a random direction, I encounter... a huge bear! Around him lay three bodies, dressed more fashionably than the locals.
"Bang!" I fire the gun into the air, driven by pure panic. Instantly, the beast starts chasing me. I spot a log bridging a mountain river ahead. Quickly, I scramble across it. Once I'm on the other side, I shove the log into the foaming water below. The bear, panting heavily, reaches the river's edge, thinking I'm as good as gone... but has been overpowered in a moment by a strong flow! (Animals also do stupid actions, which had helped Homo Sapiens to dominate and put most of them into concentration camps.)
I use another log and successfully come back to the «bodies». They found themselves alive – two blonde German females and one broken backpack with cans. The Germans were deathly frightened, but they had a sat-phone and strong legs, so we reached the central camp soon. Buddies in the camp stayed on duty all night. The bear did not come. I guess he badly hurt himself against the boulders.
As to my dad, he reacted on the situation brainlessly, seeing me with the women:
"My teen dude, he was not a bear, but a yeti the rapist, who captures students, on the first night a first girl, then a second one, and a little boy in end, just for the desert... So will junge Frauen share a safe sleeping bag with me?"
I guessed he himself might be a yeti the rapist. Keeping my father away from their tent, I acted as girl's guard dog and watched the blondes sleep. I dreamt and dreamed of stealing kisses and hugs from those lanky bodies, two or better two thousand times. I even asked about it in the morning. Despite the local stereotypes, they declined with a promise of Berlin and dancing-nonromancing. Anyway, I believe the WOE-men were sincerely grateful. We became somewhat comrades. They left me their business cards and flew away on a helicopter the next day.
I lost those cards later.
While desire is here…>>
THE GLOOMY room, egg noodles, laid sofa, for some reasons I’m alone. Like in waiting for Godot, I’ve called up a Spirit of Wi-Fi and start the CS cite, where <b>Millions of Couchsurfers Are Waiting to Meet You</b> Jees! That was not a message of the Pokemon times, but a true old-fashioned letter, that lacks only some verses in the end…
>> «Hello Mr. Dybenko, I am Lee. It will be my first traveling to Russia, and the second place among this travel will be your city, Irkutsk. I am a very ordinary Korean guy who has stayed for my whole life in Korea. I don't have much experience about other country, and also about traveling. I am working in the national laboratory as a research assistant in Energy research part. From long time ago, when I was in university I have been thinking about visiting your country and taking a train on Siberian railroad.
Actually I can't guess what kinds of person who you are exactly, but I can be sure that you are open-mined guy who is willing to choose both of the road in decision. That's exact way of expanding our view and a good way to think without any reputation. I am really poor writer even in my other language, but I am talkative and enjoy taking time with conversation, not into computer games or going to club. Yes obviously, I want to do any kinds of activity with you, we can go hiking or visit some beautiful place which is invisible in foreigner's eye. At least we can go for dinner or some beer, or go shopping for small groceries.
The reason why I send you the request is that I thought that you look like a typical Russian guy who I have imagined. I thought that I could feel and experience typical Russian man's life. My goal in CS is very clear, traveling like a native guy and staying there in a typical Russian way. I am relatively good at electronic gadget and IT Trend, so all of my friend get advises from me, it may not helpful to you though. I hope to make really great time in Russia, and
I wish it would be started from this short request letter.
There is a mention already in my profile, but just want to inform you clearly that I am a gay. Because it may make you confusing about my intention and reason why i request to stay. It's also true that many Russian guys have quite handsome appearance though, as I am a discreet and decent guy, I can never imagine that there will be a weird situation with non-gay guys. I hope you don't get me wrong. I am looking forward your reply and see you in my dreams. Thanks a lot. Have a great day. Please forgive my poor English skill although the sentences are not well arranged and quite messy!
Best regards from Lee» >>
It was too huge to answer. I CHUCKLED, a bit clinically, and declined this wonderful request. Once I occasionally was locked at Pride in Amsterdam. That seemed to be a mix of Carnaval and Halloween, where I danced all the night with lesbians and was happy being allowed to touch them. On the way back at the narrow dark by-street I met a couple of old gentlemen. One gentleman violently screwed the other in the rear part. 'Why you just stare at us, young man?!' - shouted they to me with a father's intonations. - 'Join, join us!' I declined the idea.
Now, thinking about both declined requests, I confess to myself: Guests, to be honest, ain't always that exciting. The last one, a Swiss guy, even pissed on my sofa. Still I keep doing CS. Some animals make sounds when they are lonely and that most people do that too. Russian teenagers play #Blue_Wale_game, for instance...
I FINGERED a PHONE out of the blanket and click-click upon the Elfie number. I’m listening to the I-got-à-man-who-makes-the-devil-pale melody until…
"Hey," - I was ready to eat the phone up, when I felt her radio-breath, - "Why you don’t write me long letters? Why don’t you write me, when you’re sated!"
"Because you scare me all the time, son of homophobes," - Elfie shot back, as I contemplate in the darkness her rosy trembling lips. Only these lips would take away my stress and despair. Again, for no reason I attack her with my fabricated history:
"You realize, Eva, that if we hadn't stepped up until '47, you'd be under some serious Nazi A-bomb rule now, isolated like North Korea? We sacrificed so much in the Revolution to prevent Russian fascism. Considering the pan-European trends, everything was shifting that way. We could have potentially grown to a population of 400 million, as our forefather Genghis Khan envisioned. But where was your Marshall Plan instead of a Dallas plan? Ok, the last one is a fake, but where were your kind-hearted volunteers, so keen for the Globe now, when the essential part of our civilization, the Soviets, collapsed? Back then, as a young boy, I was on the streets with my family, bracing for what felt like the end of the world..."
"Do you believe your own words?" - I hear the ultimate rejection in her voice.
"My Chinese students voted for one all-nations mixed government with the only one language – a New Language with New Words!"
"At least not Russian! Liberate yourself from this! You are blind with propaganda!"
"I did not find in EU anything I could not perform at home** [**check the extra page in the end]. Russian liberals I'd been listened to, exaggerated, depicting Western Europe as unachievable Paradise. So there's a question, what freedom goes about. I met an old lady in a cafe, and she asked me if I knew a Mr. Leon from France. I said, "Yeah, sure I do!" "Send him my love and kisses and let him know I'm still alive!" She smiled back with a toothless smile. I have absolutely no clue who Mr. Leon from France is... Maybe he had too much freedom in his life... Maybe you're my Mr. Leon, are you?"
"Leave me alone with those weird stories, please! It's all disgusting!"
She hangs up a call. Cut off. Terminated.
NOW, telling stories to myself, I remember one Arab in Thailand. Girls swarmed around him in abundance, he was drunk and in a slipping tong explained me, that he has no work, no wife, that he's too bored from the endless travelling, but what he really has – that's a Good God! Sure, I’d believe Allah too if I were him, because Arab is altogether richer than all of the hardworkers, familiar to me in a real life, richer, than authors of the books «Become a millionaire in five minutes». In this timespace, as far as I see point from here, positivism does not work pretty well. Absurd does.
Absurd helps us to fool the nature around, lodging a great position up, even when we are not Alphas, but Zetas, who are been sentenced to death by a natural selection. There is a global human tendency, though, to divide on basis of nationality, social class, political believes, sexual isomorphism – and what for? To suppress each other more sadistically.
How about the cutie Jewish girl, my student, with her brown lips-muffins? When she got to the Israel military, Judith announced on Facebook, that she #wannakillArabs. I deleted her from my friends. After that I've found suddenly that a half of people around me are incurable fanatics and no methods of contraception can prove 100% protection against them. O my kind Richard Rorty! Maybe I'm a fanatic too. Soon I’ll delete Elfie forever. I know, that’s logical NOT to do it, only for having a lighthouse in heart, but logic is a gist of comfort, while comfort is an emanation of absurdity.
Who'd break up first, me or her?
Who's the champion of breaking?
I s(n)ail away from it into the…
S S S S S S
N N N N N N
O O O O O O
W W W W W W
There are frozen drops of something that had been water everywhere. Hey, Life, why are you changing faster than a speeding bullet? Having my eyes full of blue XY movies on the phone (5th device, trying not to save me from thinking about Elfie, 6000 sec.), I teleport-ed myself into a little bus MARSHERUTKA toward Baikal lake (trying not to think about Elfie). I’ve rented skates there and (trying not to think about Eva) stepped on the ice surface (with a try not to think about Elfie). Lake in a cold time looks like a space-launch complex (and it tries to think about Elfie), so I just tried to think about Elfie (trying not to think about Elfie), thinking to try about Elfie (Elfing to stop about my thinking), tired to tired and tied to tied…
I shout up to the sky and the feeling of helpless rage, that would have crushed ice under my feet by any moment, if I couldn't find now how to tear it away, - not rights, or lefts, or wrongs, yet only the wind, upsetting cosmic dust, slush and moans from the mountains. The world is doomed. I feel readiness to burst my seedy planet with lungs full of fresh air! Windblowswindblows with some wi-fi air, with a message:
Hey, a Loser
Of
Hope,
Leave me!
We break.
Je rentre chez moi. Trop!
Eva
She broke up with me first! My answer was this poem:
A Wikipedia lake
A social media shake
I would like to find love
In the depth of your fake
Mermaids show me their teets
and Solaris shows mind
But it all work apiece
Never coming alive
Even meteorites
Of unusual ply
Die in your sea of weed
In the low-tide of lie
Saying, "Old World, goodbye!"
Information waste
Is the p(l)ace of my life…
PS-sms: "You might forget me, but I'll remember all the little things I've done with you, at least for a few years!"
>>Add. Did you know? Lake Baikal is like the WarmTub.mom of the natural world! Home to exclusive "content" like the unique Baikal seal Nerpa (130 êg.). Similarly, in the digital realm, Social Media platforms each have their distinct ecosystems - TikTok (1.6 billion users) might not make waves on LinkedIn (900 million members)!>>
(0 sec. Launched.)
... THAT VERY EVENING, after all my wanderings and outbursts, I met my readhead friend Vlad (you might as well call him my ALTER PREGO). We questioned each other in my kitchen, surrounded by memories, musings of the future, and the sounds of Highly Suspect playing in the background, intersecting with Russian gangsta rap. We sipped cherry beer that Vlad had brought in a glass bottle.
"Hey, Vlad, let’s drink it up accompanied with my newest poem. The last month’s been concentrated here in the final words. Just listen to a poem from me, the most intimate poem of ever!" – And I’ve recited solemnly:
Blond from the forest, thank you,
Plump of the forest, thank you,
Nadia in dizzy, thank you,
Julia-drunkard, thank you,
Nastja the First, thank you,
Katja, the Wizard, thank you,
Nastja the Second, thank you,
Nymph from the village, thank you,
Violet, with tattoos, thank you,
Masha, the rock-star, thank you,
Ezra, a kind Jew, thank you,
Daughter of Minsk, dzakuj,
Fish of the Holland, dank je,
Elfie from Paris…
"Rubbish, rubbish," - commented Vlad in a sleepy voice, like he’s been lullabied by my poem, but now turned up to be a reasoner. "I see you’re losing time here! This succession of crimes only depicts your imperialistic conquering perversions. Forget about the torture device number two! As our proverb says: "Íàøå äåëî íå ðîæàòü: ñóíóë, âûíóë — è áåæàòü!" You know, that I took some French courses from your Fifa-Eldi this summer? I don’t know what about her style and femininity, but she is not so good as a teacher. She just talked over her lessons without any plan!"
"Vlad, Eva has a right to treat you like a trash, since she’s born to spend money! She traveled above Baikal surface only by helicopter, dig it?"
"Oh, her poor students say she drank heavily too!"
"I've just wished to open Russia for her and heal her issues with some magic of Siberian spirits!"
"Just let it be, pal! Life has more meaning if you've never tried milk beer..."
"You mean from a woman's breast? Honestly, before becoming a dad, I want some alone time — just focusing on work and reading. If books fail me, then maybe I'll consider starting a family!"
"Right, I feel it's very good to focus on yourself first. I love those times to completely think only of myself and my interests. I forget other people exist, a true hermit, aka Henry David Thoreau. Look at me, please, young teacher, the subject of young girls mind! We'll rob a bank to be back in jack, not in black! Let’s move out of here to catch the life's night-shine!"
So Vlad and I made it to the hipster bar Belaya Vorona (The White Crow), a nice place in Irkutsk. We met there two young professionals with blunt bangs. Eventually, they didn't become our girlfriends, but they did become our personal online psychologists. In fact, 1,000 rubles per hour is quite affordable for a psychologist in a province!
At that moment, a 2016-WF9-asteroid streaked across the sky above us and tangled with night shining clouds. Perhaps at least it was destined to explode into new life...
////////////////
O
O
O
O
O
O
O
O
O
O
________###________
*Harry Potter and Anna Karenina (by E. E. Corelen)
"Everything was in confusion on the Oblonsky Drive. Dudley Dursley-Oblonsky rumored ties to a French teen governess, known for her southern tales. Her tales of wildlings had an intoxicating allure, especially the one where 'their women lay with the Others in the Long Night to sire terrible half-human children'. Anna Dursley, ever-watchful with her sinuous neck and piercing gaze, discovered that the husband was carrying on an intrigue with a French girl, but she couldn't help but be drawn to these dark stories, a reflection perhaps of her own forbidden desires... But as morning broke, a note on their door whispered a warning: 'The Others remember.' The tales were closer to reality than they'd imagined..." (illegible)
**An extra page for some employed employ-ables, or How to be fired from a good Russian job, while in Holland (in a range of hell circles):
1) to take a photo on a cannabis plantation
2) to take a photo with a fancy transgender unicorn, maybe, kissing
3) to take a seedy photo, hanging on typical are-you-russian-or-romanian teen-loking prostitutes from the inside of the red light district
4) to take a seedy photo hanging in front of a wet windswept typical dutch blondie with a bicycle’s seat, protruding out of her butt, how she asks you, do you need help or not, as you’re looking in sweaty tears for your loss of 1000 euro
5) to take a photo, when, after been imprisoned within a casino at your own will, you’re well gone and parted with the rest of your year’s salary forever
6) to take a sleepy photo with company of black bums in the dirty night McDonald's, when you feed yourself, thanks to the people, who leave some fried potatoes and dips in a hurry, afterwards you can sing acapeeeeella
7) to take a photo in the trains toilet, when you hiding away from a checking and feed yourself with bread for 1ˆ and free toilet water
8) to take a photo of your weenie and, being a true rebelled Kabouter, set it as profile picture on FB
9) to take a pic of this horrible list
2017. THE END
Reddit-style comment from AI (GPT 3.5, 2023) on the story above:
"Okay, so I just went through this and I totally get the whole vibe of trying to capture Russian culture and the complexity of relationships. Your text has a unique voice and style. But man, did anyone else feel like it jumped around a lot? I mean, I dig the deep characters, but sometimes I was like, 'Wait, where are we now?' And the mood? It's like a rollercoaster. Still, I'm kinda hooked and think with a bit more polishing, this could be solid. Thoughts?"
A potential continuation of the story from AI (GPT 3.5, 2023):
"The protagonist buries himself in work, trying to forget Eva Elfie. Out of the blue, a letter from her arrives, hinting at a return to Russia. Vlad's new love interest, Irina, and the protagonist start a podcast on cultural nuances. During a raw episode about Eva, she surprisingly joins, leading to a heart-wrenching confrontation. Subsequently, Eva and the protagonist decide to travel Siberia for the podcast. As they reach Lake Baikal, amid the cold expanse, a sudden accident claims Eva's life, leaving the protagonist with their unfinished story and a heart filled with regret." (No, I would say with joy and happiness! -A.)