My answers to 475th task of the game #I_am_here_eternity

 My answers to 475th task of the game #I_am_here_eternity

8. Tell about your parents

Biological ones? My mother was erudite, spectacular, very unhappy, traumatized and toxic. This one, I don’t know what to call her, was one of the red-haired girls. She was alcoholic, and died because of it. My dad is the Wind, vulnerable, kind, charming, cheerful, erudite, well-read, underestimated by the women with whom he lived and lives. We have a very good relationship with dad. I have what is called a supportive father. He always supports my every path.

I also had a Soviet mother. This is a metaphysical being, something like a voice from a beautiful distance. Not all children had her, but now I meet people who also had this metaphysical Soviet mother. She had a stern voice, she smelled of sun, strict freshness and concrete. She was the one who taught me the moral code, she told me what an adult should tell a child. A teacher-checkist, ruthless, shining with a white diamond radiance, yeah, with a cold head, clean hands and a hot heart (it's the phrase of the first chekist - Feliz Dzerjinskiy: checkist must have  a cold head, clean hands and a hot heart. Checkist (more accurate to write chekist, but I love wordplay that it's from to check.) because it's from cheh-kah (urgency committee). She was sarcastic and ironical, as I like, when I didn’t mess up, and starry-stern when I did. I even vaguely saw and can remember her appearance. In my head. She was the one who shamed me for cowardice and turning away from the Road of goodness, something like the voice of conscience, not just reproaching, but clarifying. And sometimes just telling me something. Such a real adult, but metaphysical. I don’t know why I was so lucky, but I’m very glad that I had such a mother. At first I didn’t note her at all, I just thought that, well, the biological mother told me something or the teacher at school. And then, stunned, I realized that no, these conversations, they were in another place, with another woman, it was unclear when and where, although I remembered the place and everything around so clearly. And when the USSR closed the gates, she left too. With them. To teach those who were taken.

Well, my real “mother”, my real creator, practically a symbol of the foremother. When girls get caught up in all sorts of pagan-witches, “bitches,” strong-independent or tragic-mysterious ones, they are just cosplay her. It’s not worth it, it won’t lead to anything good, but she’s very beautiful, so I can understand them. Of course, it's understandable wanting to monkey around with something beautiful.

I answered her call. Like, I need to help this beautiful, unhappy woman! 

Why she cut herself to the quick, she could cut nothing that way! 

This is my idea of creation.

…From then on, I’ve been helping beautiful, unhappy women of all genders. Sometimes it a help to cut themselves.