Páteční čtení dopisu určeném poručíku Goškevičovi. ,, A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou“ Kapitola 22.

Fotografie od Burst na Pexels.com

Napsáno více jak před deseti lety, shoda jmen událostí příjmení a skutků je náhodná, nebo je to klasická synchronicita. Také publikace zrovna dopisu poručíkovi Goškevičovi, Rusovi, je náhodná,je to část příběhu, na tento dopis v jiné kapitole následuje odpověď. Jsem PROTI jakékoli válce kdekoli, na Ukrajině zvlášť , Bohdane, držím Ti palce !

Chapter 22.
And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter Twenty-two.

Letter addressed to Lieutenant Osip Goshevich.

January. London.

Dear friend !!!!
I will take advantage of the visit of one of my former maids, who is less blunt than the maids I have now, and I will ask her to deliver these few lines to you.
Please excuse the inconsistency of this letter, its fragmentation and stylistic shortcomings. It's weird, I know, it's the same as my head, I'm so confused about it. Plus, I'm in a bad mood today.
Hardly in any other nation is there as much general beauty as in England. Do not judge the beauty of the English, according to the red-haired gentlemen and ladies who desert from England under the name of captains, engineers, teachers and educators - these are rubbish, a pretty woman does not have to run away from England, beauty is capital.
It is said that English women are distinguished by the size of their feet, I do not know if this is true. It seems to me that this is partly a prejudice, mainly because no other women show off their feet like English women. As they cross the muddy street, they lift their skirts so high that they provide the perfect opportunity to see their feet.
The English women are mostly tall, slender, but a little proud and calm — in the words of many connoisseurs, even cold. Coldly!!!
The color of the eyes and hair is extremely diverse - some are perfect brunettes, but they are also extraordinarily white and have a bright, beautiful blush.
Whenever I see a pretty English woman, it seems to me that I see Captain Kopejkin.

Because I lived as a traveler in hotels, I had few opportunities to observe women closely, except for housewives in inns, saleswomen in shops, and so on. These two maids run around me like two mail horses, repeating murderously to my every word like magpies: -Yes, Sir… .No, Sir… -

But why these words, my dear… where have I sharpened it? What am I describing?
Of course, I saw how callously you rejected my suggestions that my crazy passion put into my previous writings, I heard your confessions that you have secrets in front of me that I am not worthy to know… Fifteen years later I am writing for you and it is a fact , you told me I'd know right now, I'm on fire, I'm on fire, tell me.
You should rejoice and be proud, for the absolute power you have over me, over my will, must fill you with pride. Who you are? What kind of power is that? Who gave it to you? You are not human… no… in my eyes, no! You are the Angel of my Destiny!

Copies and women's blouses have always made me sad.
I always finish writing more tenderly than I should, and you, ungrateful, are abusing my tenderness and doing what you like and not what I want.
don't be lazy and come see your friend…

Still passionately, the days do not take away from the passion, on the contrary, more and more passionately,

all your…
Your Captain

Post scriptum: The general impression of the appearance of London and its population is strange, two million people live here, London is a center of world trade and guess what is not visible on it?
Life-actually its tumultuous boiling. Trade is seen, but there is no life, otherwise you must conclude that trade is life here, as it really is. Life here… does not strike your eyes.
There is a relative silence, all actions are somehow quiet, serious. Apart from the inevitable noise caused by horses and carriage wheels, almost nothing else can be heard. The city seems to be holding its breath and pounding its pulse as a living being. There is no needless shouting and no need for movement. Everything seems to be budgeted, weighed, and valued, as if voice and facial expressions were paid for just as much as windows and rims on wheels.
Adios and goodbye, yes? Goodbye Goodbye Goodbye. And now remember for a moment that even in your disobedience, Yours too loves You.
Oh, a ton of delights when my mind wanders to You….

End of chapter twenty-two. 
Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci  slov, určených ruskému poručíku, ať se všem ruským vojáků líbí nohy kapitána Kopejkina je...


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