Just listening to the story is a kind of enlightenment and healing! Seek the truth with the true meaning of life, not the worldly eye. Story 1: He was just very sad for my wife. We lived in a very small place and didn't even have any decent furniture, not even a table, so we had to eat on the floor. At that time, I was a poor faculty member in the Institute of Physics, caring only about my own research all day long, and my wife had to work three jobs to make ends meet. To make a long story short, I invented a new tunnel diode, which is difficult to explain, and everyone congratulated me and rewarded me with 50 rubles for new research projects. I came home with the 50 rubles for three years of work, and my wife looked at me like yours. After that, a foreign company bought my patent at a high price, but I didn't agree. I wanted to apply the patent here. I sold it everywhere. Everyone said that the patent was great, but no one bought it, no one. I started drinking, I became addicted to alcohol, I lost my job, and so did my wife. But I just drank day and night, from morning till night, those days were horrible. One day I felt like I was going to die. I wasn't afraid at all, but I was very happy. I just hoped that I could be freed sooner. I started looking for death, really, I provoked the police, harassed others, was beaten and stabbed. I slept on the street, went in and out of the hospital, and was often beaten to pieces, but every time I escaped death, I was always immersed in the past, unable to extricate myself, and gave up on myself. But I was terrified of death methods like lying on the rails or jumping off the building. I don't know why, but I felt terrified. One day, I was on the train, drunk, disheveled, and smelled of alcohol. The train was full of people, and I was drunk, yelling, and ranting, but I was happy in my heart, and I was happy for my vileness. I just wish someone would throw me out of the train so that I would hit the rails and my brain would burst to death, but everyone in the carriage sat silently, all turned their faces away and sat silently. Except for one woman and her five-year-old daughter, I heard the little girl say, "Mom, that man is crazy, I'm so scared." The woman said, "No, he's not crazy, he's just very sad." I later sold the patent to a foreign company, and now basically half of the phones use it. I also have a job, but none of that matters, the woman on the train is now my wife, the little girl is my daughter, and we have a son who is four years old. I probably should have spoken to Ruth earlier, but I didn't, because of one person, just because of one person, who cared a little bit more about me than anyone else. Story 2: It pales in comparison, you know? I now In believing, everything, everything is possible. My father lived in the ghetto during the war, not far from the headquarters of the Lithuanian SS, where there was a party officer and a beautiful Lithuanian wife. My father is skinny, have you seen me? My father is much uglier than me, I (an old gentleman) is like my mother, and my mother is not pretty, but at least better than my father. My father fell in love very quickly, he fell in love with that beautiful Lithuanian woman, and she fell in love with my father in a drug-like manner. Can you imagine what happened after the war? The SS officer fled to Germany, but she stayed with my dad, and they both got caught and locked up in Siberia until 1953, when they reunited, got married, and lived in Vilnius In a small farm nearby, they began to have children, a total of 11 children. Because of this, my father abandoned my mother. But I can understand him, I've seen pictures of her, I've seen pictures of her, my mother pales in comparison to her. I wouldn't believe it if someone told me about it, but it happened to my father, everything is possible, everything is possible. Story 3: Drinking together and crying together I don't understand, we all have our own way of doing things and our own habits. do you know? I have an uncle who lives near Voronezh and is a plumber, and that's a good job. He is generous and friendly, and everyone likes him. Although he likes to drink, he is not a bad person, and he only drinks small wine occasionally. In the center of the city, there is a square, where there are slot machines, "Brother Machines" they call that thing "Brothers Machines". Uncle Kuya doesn't gamble, but on the day of the paycheck, he got drunk and went to the slot machine. He lost all his money and left no cents. He thought, how do you get home now? How to explain to my wife? Should I say to her, "I've lost all my money?" I'm still dead. But someone told him, "There's a place nearby where you can borrow money." So, he went. The man there said to him, "Okay, we can lend you money, but the interest is not low, and it starts at 50,000 yuan, so if you want to borrow it, just borrow 50,000 yuan, or get out." How did he do it? He borrowed 50,000 yuan, went back to the slot machine, and lost the money again. I lost all 50,000 yuan, what should I do now? As a result, he ran to work and said to his boss, "Give me fifty thousand dollars." "What? Are you crazy?" "Crazy? You wait for me." He went home, took a gun and bullets, and then Back, but the boss had no idea where he went. He ran to the financial office, where there were only female employees, he took three people hostage, and suddenly became terrorists. He told them to take the barrel and put it outside, with a note on it asking for fifty-seven thousand rubles, a luxury apartment, a job as an engineer, and a plane to the place he had appointed. If he wanted to escape by plane, what kind of work would he need? But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. The women shouted, "Uncle Kuya, what are you doing?" But he couldn't say a word. The men opened the safe and took out eight hundred rubles. One went to buy half a case of vodka and ice cream. Then the police came, and the snipers. "He's a terrorist! Kill him! Fire!" But the police chief said, "No! No shooting! I'm going in and talk to him." What a brave man! Unarmed and went in, so brave! Uncle Kuya pointed a gun at him and said, "I'm going to kill you." The chief of police said, "No, you won't." "Why?" "Because I'm the chief of police." Listen to him, Kuya. Uncle Ya put down the gun. They sat down around vodka, drank together, and cried together. After that it happened. Uncle Kuya has been working hard to pay off his debts, and of course I have helped a lot. The police chief was also promoted and became a businessman. That slot machine was also destroyed, but not Uncle Kuya. I mean, we have to be tolerant, and good people should be tolerant. Story 4: Their fear and loneliness After my performance, I started talking about serious topics, talking about my life, the people's livelihood in Russia, people laughed, they thought I was telling a joke. I bet if I had started throwing up on stage they would have laughed and thought I was making them laugh, go have fun with someone else, I'm not a clown. I only really laughed once, and only once, when I was playing the old man. When I was a kid, I stayed with my sick grandmother, and I was five or six, well, six. She fell down at that time, and the fall was not serious. I called the ambulance, but the car didn't come. I gave her medicine. I was terrified. She was my grandmother, so I planned to make her happy. I started imitating her neighbors and her friends who were hilarious. Grandma was in pain, but I saw her smile, even when I was carrying her into the ambulance, I saw her smile, and I always remember, those laughter and her smile. That Chechen child, that old man, I could feel their fear and loneliness firsthand, just as I felt when I was with my grandmother. For me, the most precious smile, otherwise my back would be broken. (laughs...) Story 5: Use the dead to help the living, have you ever buried anyone? ? But I know how to bury people, and I've been the cemetery director for eight years. Imagine that your loved one dies. For an ordinary funeral, you go to the cemetery. The funeral is attended by relatives and friends, and an old lady is standing next to her. She looks at the tomb and says, "My God, poor People." The relatives and friends said, "What did you say?" They looked into the cemetery and found that it was full of water. How could this be? what can we do about it? Can't let the loved one rest in peace and swamp? The old lady whispered to them. The family walked up to the grave digger and said, "Sir, there is water in the tomb, can you think of a way?" He explained the reason why the water came out, and then shoveled away the water in the tomb, but someone seeped out. , everyone was stunned. The old lady motioned to everyone to a nearby cemetery, which had no water and was clean. The exciting part is here. The relatives and friends asked the grave digger: "Can we change the cemetery?" "Are you crazy? A person was just buried there 15 minutes ago. It's impossible, don't think about it." The family knelt down , prayed with tears in his eyes, "Sir, please help us, we will give you money. How much do you need?" , he may ask five hundred, but if it is poor, he will not pay attention at all, so the dead have a dry cemetery. After the family left, the old lady received 500 labor fees. They took out the plastic sheet under the cemetery. After 15 minutes, the cemetery was dry, and the grave digger had already wet the other cemetery. that's it. why are you looking at me? Aren't you the same? Everyone has their own way of making money. "Is it a Rolex?" "That's right" "It was bought by this trick too?" "Yes" It was bought by that trick, I won't hide it. But I also use that money to build houses of worship, and I use that money to give to homeless people outside the cemetery, who have to eat. With that money, I built a school 830 kilometers away from Moscow, where I was born. There is even a gym there. If you don’t believe me, go see it for yourself. There is no such thing as a tube here. Underground pipelines and computer rooms are equipped with LCD screens. Teachers' salaries are not low. There are also school buses to pick up and drop off students from afar, which is convenient for students. If you ask the locals, "Where did the money come from to build the school?" As long as there is a school, they don't care where the money comes from. Since no one is willing to pay, I will use the dead to help the living. Story 6: Wink and Smile I live with my son, he's twenty this year, he was six in '91, my wife left me in '90, ran off with a Yankee, fuck. The child was very scared at the time, I lied to him that his mother traveled to Yes, I'll be back in a few days. At that time, my mother took care of the children, and I took the test to open a rental car. I made money day and night to make a living, and I couldn't take care of my family at all. People who drive never have to worry about finding a woman, and one day I started dating a woman who wasn't pretty and we lived together after that. I don't expect much of her, cooking, laundry, babysitting, and she seems to like my son a lot too. My son's name is Gunila, and I can't remember when she started scolding my son with me: "He's lazy and doesn't behave well." I called him and asked him, "Is that so?" Look at me, smile and say "yes, Dad" and look away. I hit him. One day I couldn't help it. I can't remember what she said to me. Anyway, I was in a hurry. I rushed into his room, dragged him off the bed, and beat him. She didn't say a word, and suddenly he started to have a nosebleed and screamed "Murderer, murderer, what are you doing? Are you going to kill the child?" That's how it started. I beat him and all she saw was gore and screaming and cruelty and my son, it was like he was expecting it all. He doesn't cry, just blinks and smiles, blinks incessantly, but doesn't cry. I beat him, and his head was bleeding, but he kept blinking and smiling, blinking and smiling. I woke up one night to the sound of water and I went to the bathroom and saw him washing the sheets and he wet the bed. That kid, he was sitting in the corner holding the sheets, looking at me with a smile, winking and smiling like he was always guilty, that expression, that smile, he was looking at me. Although I did nothing wrong, deep down in my heart, I felt that I was my son's executioner. After that, we had another child, a boy, he was four years old, very naughty, I hit him lightly, "crack", God, she threw the iron and hit me, I almost broke. I could hit my own son, but if I touched her son, she would kill me. After that, she took the child to her relatives' house. I drive a taxi at night, and one day I have already gone out, but as if someone grabbed my neck and collar, I turned around and saw that the lights were still on at home, and I ran home. Couldn't find him anywhere, it was already three in the morning, I heard movement in the closet, I opened it and saw him sitting there, looking at me with a smile, still blinking, blinking Focus. I said to him, "Son, what are you doing?" I pulled him out of the closet, I hugged him, he hugged me tightly, he looked at me, winked, smiled, hiding behind his back what. I asked "Son, what's that?" I grabbed his hand, like this, grabbed his hand, and he was holding a loop of rope, using my leather Made of rope loops. I don't know what the expression on my face is, but he grabbed me, hugged me, hugged me tightly, and shouted softly: "Dad, don't, Daddy"; kept shouting: "Dad , don't, don't"; said with a smile: "don't, dad, don't"; said with a smile: "daddy, don't". Story Seven: The Great Trial of Chechen Children's Innocence, told in the film by the painter who cast the twelfth vote. . . . . . The reason why the law can govern unparalleled for a long time only depends on the longer tolerance and compassion.
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