Александр Цеханович – The Creator of Worlds / Создатель миров (английская версия) (страница 1)

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Aleksandr Tsekhanovich

The Creator of Worlds

Preface

In the end things must be as they are and have always been – the great things remain for the great, the abysses for the profound, the delicacies and thrills for the refined, and, to sum up shortly, everything rare for the rare.

My book will tell you a story about the existence of an individual in a society illustrated by the example of a creative person. It doesn’t make any difference what time these events take place in, for our society won’t ever change. It is, also, of no importance whether or not this creative person has achieved success, gained some popularity or earned love of people, since fame is a fickle friend, and all the achievements and merits can collapse like a card house by a puff of wind, when society hears a random word and believes it.

“Society often forgives the criminal; it never forgives the dreamer”. The criminal belongs to the system their society is based on, while the dreamer pushes the boundaries, and that is why the latter is perceived as something cryptic, terrifying and fearsome by the society. The dreamer is not like anybody else, their thoughts are higher and cleaner than those of ordinary members of the public. The dreamer is an artist who sees the whole world as a big canvas, which they can alter at any moment, and they do so. The dreamer is able to notice incredible things, find beauty in everything, they are refined and highly sensitive, they see and believe in miracles and are able to perform them. Dreams, thoughts and ideas are immortal, it is impossible to kill them. Therefore, nothing can stop and “fix” the dreamer, whos doomed to remain misunderstood and unaccepted. Society will never be able to accept the dreamer and forgive them, for they have managed to be better, cleaner and higher than the society itself and those who live within the bounds of laws and bans. Society intentionally poisons the dreamer’s life and desires to destroy and ruin this “faulty component of the mechanism” as soon as possible, launching the so-called “witch-hunt” against them. “He laid himself bare in his verses, involuntarily, in fits of poetic ecstasy. Leave curiosity to the masses and be at one with Genius. The masses eagerly read confessions, memoirs, because in their meanness they rejoice at the debasement of the great, at the weakness of the powerful. They are delighted with the revelation of each ugly detail. He is small, like us, he is low, like us! You lie, bustards, he is small and low – but not like you – different”.

It is no secret to anyone that every human being’s life has its sorrows and griefs, and none of us have the strength to choose the time when these or those events happen to us. One’s life is easy and everything goes like clockwork, another person’s life is like keys of a piano, but sometimes life happens to be a panther, when one bad thing is followed by another, as in one of A.S.Pushkin’s poems “One dawn hurries to relieve the other, Allowing half-an-hour to night”. In the same manner “life” being a professional fighter ceaselessly strikes at the cornered man and there is no referee who can stop the fight… This poetry collection tells a story in whose turn of events we’ll become the witnesses of horrible things, which are to happen to the main character throughout the whole narration and we’ll see what impact misfortunes and human cruelty has on the life of the main character. Will they be able to overcome this alone, find strength and get their life back or only a miracle might save them? Will they succeed in overthrowing the cruelty and ignorance of the crowd or are they destined to part company with the real world and opt for escapism becoming a king in the kingdom of oblivion?

This book is dedicated to all creative people who have already passed away, who live now and who are yet to be born, but, anyway, they will take a creative path and become the creators of worlds. No one can change the world for the better alone. However, if each of us always questions themselves: “what is funny about peace, love and understanding?”, then together we will manage to make out world cleaner, better and kinder than it is, since “everyone can give at least some love and warmth to the others…” Do whatever it takes to dream and try to make your dreams come true, for a tiny bit of world creators lives in each of us, and each of us is able to perform miracles.

Aleksandr Tsekhanovich

L’ALBATROS

Souvent, pour s’amuser, les hommes d’équipage Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers, Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage, Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers. A peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches, Que ces rois de l’azur, maladroits et honteux, Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches Comme des avirons traîner à côté d’eux. Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule! Lui, naguère si beau, qu’il est comique et laid! L’un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule, L’autre mime, en boitant, l’infirme qui volait! Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l’archer; Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées, Ses ailes de géant l’empêchent de marcher.

Seal of Cain

Foreword:

I don’t care what day it will be tomorrow, or even what day today was. It’s always with me, both my hell… (pause) and Your Kingdom of Heaven.

«Read your name…»

Read your name On the tomb. Did you think about something like this? That’s all. Earth will not release you. Learn that your dead body can hunger for passion. It can go beyond expressions. Don’t wake it up, my friend, let it sleep forever old. Moon and stars thus (in the night sky above us) shine with the glory of silver and gold.

«Sane or insane…»

Sane or insane? Underline it in the multiple-choice questionnaire. I’d rather have my way without compromising, at least. From open veins oozing mercury, but as people say, it’s not the point. A dead heart tears apart the rib cage. Are we on the same page? I can’t sleep because of

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