Lisa's

I edited a new video. That bastard, indeed. But I sort of wish they gave us a choice, whether to join forces with Heisenberg or not! Very, very disappointing. 

July 20, 2017. A day when one of the greatest men in this world decided to leave us and continue his way somewhere there, from where nobody returns.

When I first heard about it, I couldn’t believe it. What? Chester Bennington? From Linkin Park? A band from my teens?

My cousin was the one who introduced me to this band. I would listen to their albums on repeat. I would crack up the volume on my old phone on my way to school and make my friends listening to “What I’ve Done”. I would watch LP’s music videos on a TV music channel, happy every time I could catch them. Then my obsession passed, and it was alright because almost everything passes, except, sometimes, love.

And my love for this music was never ended. I realized it the moment I heard Chester Bennington had died.

I was shocked, and at first, I thought I didn’t feel anything. And then… well, then the mourning began, and I was crying listening to LP’s songs, trying to accept the fact that the man with angel voice had gone. Forever. Trying to accept that I would never see him performing live on stage. Regretting I hadn’t gone to their gig when LP had been visiting Moscow a couple of years ago. It wasn’t the same when David Bowie passed away. I love Bowie, he’s a part of my childhood, too, but I didn’t grow up on his songs, as my parents did. Chester’s voice was the voice that helped me with my fears, with my insecurity. Chester’s voice, sounding in the dark of night embracing my bedroom, was the light that led me to something beautiful.

And he’s still leading so many lost souls out there – just have a look at his last Instagram post. Thousands of comments with words of gratefulness and love. Three years have passed, people still remember. And will remember.

В последнее время я довольно часто (для себя) завидую.

Я завидую людям, которые снимают клипы/фотографируют лучше или, по крайней мере, качественнее меня. Потому что, хотя я точно знаю, что буду снимать фильмы, мне многому нужно учиться. Вообще, кино – не вода, а я – не рыба. Скорее, кино – это воздух, а я - человек, который учится дышать заново.

А недавно к зависти добавился ещё один пункт. Я затеяла ролевую на одном форуме, и мне безумно повезло с соигроком. Он(а) оказался(лась) очень талантливым(ой), и появился стимул соответствовать. Только вот обычно метафоры мне даются достаточно легко, а тут – пришлось выжимать. Вручную.

Да и этот пост – тоже плод зависти. Я увидела у своей знакомой на странице крутой, неординарный пост, и даже обидно стало. И почему я так не пишу? А почему я вообще, собственно, не пишу?

Ну, вот. Села. Пишу.

Может быть, мое писательское “я” затаилось, спряталось от непрерывных сочинений по ЕГЭ, которые мне приходится проверять у учеников? Благо, что я точно больше никогда не буду делать, так это готовить к ЕГЭ.

Пора это “я” возрождать.

Короче говоря, я сделала зависть своей силой. Как и свои неврозы. Этакие пинки под задницу.

Mama would tell you about agent Cooper a lot.

She would tell you how handsome he was. How clever he was. How brave he was.

How kind he was.

“Kindest man I’ve ever met in my entire life,” – she would tell you, smoking and looking through the window, smiling.

Then you began to realize – she hadn’t had that smile anymore. Her smile. A special smile, full of mystery and dreaminess. As if she wasn’t here, beside you. Somewhere there. With that agent Cooper, perhaps, dancing their slow dance.

And you seemed to like it. You liked that her smile wasn’t that smile anymore. Her smile had become an emptiness. After years, she had become a ghost of her own self.

You had been so angry at that agent Cooper. It had seemed like he stole your real father. Replaced him. Killed him. Erased him.

Mama had never talked that much about your true father.

And then she talked about Cooper less. And less.

And less.

Eventually, she stopped.

She wasn’t with Cooper anymore. Yet, she wasn’t with you either.

A ghost in her own darkness.

You have never had a father. You have lost your mother. You have lost even that fucking saint agent Cooper.

                                alone and miserable, weren’t you?

                                                   aren’t you?

***

When he says what a smart young man you are, you feel almost happy.

You can do anything for him at this moment. You want to do anything for him. Whatever he asks.

You can feel his smile climbing up your spine, and it’s cold. It’s freezing. You’ve never felt that cold in your entire life.

You can feel his smile, but you refuse to look back.

You’re sinking in the darkness.