Very bad English / Очень плохой English. Яна Варшавская
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Really, Doremi?!
Eva's diary:
May 23, 2004.
Sunday.
Our rector repeats the same thing…
«If you finish your third year, you can consider yourself PhDs!»
In the meantime, no clubs and discos! Nothing but studying…
Easy to say!
Pharma[6] is the death of fascism!
How can someone remember all this: hybridodemirunatazine, for example.
And this is just a new drug against sclerosis…
Part II
Eva's diary
Chapter 1
Taska… And Epicurus
February 23, 2014.
Sunday.
Lord, why didn't you give me Taska's brains?
Or rather, why didn't you divide our brains equally?
My dear little sister never gets distracted by all the fake stuff and does not even try to please the whole of humanity…
Forget humanity! Does she even love herself?
Well, no. She probably still loves herself, but does not care about how she looks, and what others think of her. As for me, a broken nail is a tragedy of the day! I can cry all evening because of a strange look or a seemingly cold intonation of my husband or boss.
Taska is reasonable.
Moreover, she reasons sensibly. And at some point, she can refuse everything, because she believes that these are not the options. And then she patiently waits for the stars to come together in the correct sequence to promise her something for which, perhaps, it was worth waiting so long… After all, if you think about it, we all feel different.
I've always believed that the expression «Studying the world through senses» belongs to Immanuel Kant…
But no!
It turns out that Epicurus spoke about this in the third century ВС!
For some people, the world is just a decoration for their own game. Or, like Epicurus said:
«Some prepare their livelihoods for their entire lives…»
The pompous and egoistic Narcissus directed all his abilities and skills only toward the achievement of one goal: creating maximum comfort for his own living in this favorable world…
He simply didn't care about what other small characters feel in this performance.
But nature takes revenge on such people, cruelly robbing them of sensations, making them flat and blurry like reflections in the water…
They always lack the volume and colors, and throughout their lives they are haunted by subtle and eluded memories of smells and sensations from childhood, when the soul still remembered something else…
«It is better to endure some suffering in order to enjoy great pleasures; it's useful to refrain from certain pleasures so as not to endure more severe suffering…» This aphorism is also taken from Epicurus philosophy.
But sensitive creatures like Taska see the world differently.
It shines with billions of faces and shades, filled with magical sounds. You can go crazy trying to describe this beauty, each time picking up some exquisite metaphors and comparisons.
Taska manages to do that.
She manages to do that without much anguish and effort. As easy as breathing. I promised her to publish a poetry collection, but she waived my words aside… She does not have the courage to declare herself, or she simply does not attach much importance to what she writes…
But I am delighted!
Let's take a category like pain…
How can you describe in unusual words or, resorting to specific terminology, in a way that it sounds like poetry? Quite difficult.
My temples are throbbing with pain
like poles and like expectation:
it's end or beginning… in vain
don't seek for a justification…
My temples explode, but I
I grab my head with my hands
I feel it now with my skin
This rampant tide that enhance…
It starts filling entire world
And even the world's reflection.
I can't remember a word…
But I feel it coming in my direction…
Now my temples seems to freeze
and the pain subsides in an instant…
But the worlds seem to know
that the pain is always persistent…
It hurts so much
To be a captive bird:
Left in cage
Without saying a word;
It's ephemeral
But it leads you astray…
You can fly out
But you never fly away…
The sea of pain, so furious and surging
Made up of desperate words that turn to emptiness…
I don't know where all this pain's emerging
It burns my lips to tears that I suppress.
But now I've got companion to guide
The one I met in my own darkest depths…
For all the rains we'll find a place to hide,
My hope's the only thing that I have left…
What else can I say?
Taska is an expert!
Chapter 2
The Meeting
January 23, 2015.
Friday.
I suddenly remembered how we met…
Of course, it was not all of a sudden.
After all, tomorrow is your birthday! And we owe this acquaintance to my precious sister, who was returning from another country and decided to pass the time between flights with me.
It was our second meeting with Taska after my mom and I moved to St. Petersburg.
I was in a hurry to the airport, and I had to miss two classes. But when I arrived, it turned out that Taska's flight arrived with a two-hour delay. I just wanted a cup of coffee…
You stood there, waiting for your espresso. I haven't seen your face yet, but for some reason (what a nonsense!) I wanted to snuggle up to your back, hug you and die from the tenderness that suddenly surged over and was completely inexplicable.
Although you can explain everything. It's just instinct worked faster than reason.
It was only later that I put everything in order and decided that at that moment my subconscious mind capitulated to the fact that if there was really something left of animals in us, it was the ability to choose partners by smell.
I came close indecently, and when you turned to me, I realized that I was lost forever. Perhaps you also understood everything
Pharmacology – discipline given to third-year students of the medical school.