From the author: Why, when you say the right things, do people laugh at you? And when you tell the truth, they call you an ideological guy? Why then is he considered a bully? How to understand yourself? How to learn not to be ashamed of your feelings? And what the right things our great poets wrote.... I continue to publish excerpts from the Diaries of my client’s father, who died several years ago. These are authentic records of events from his life, told from the very beginning... (The client’s consent for publication has been received, all the names and surnames of the characters have been changed.) Diaries of Life and LoveChapter Five February 20, 1962 I will never understand what kind of person I am. Today I and my group went to the Pulkovo Heights, where during the war there was a defensive line. The guide began to talk about the battles, about the soldiers who died here. And our guys laugh listening to these stories. I tell them: why are you laughing, because your fathers and grandfathers died here. For you, I say, they died, so that you could live well. Then they started laughing at me even harder, even the guide smiled. How disgusted I felt, I turned and went to the bus. I sat down and thought. Why does everything turn out this way, because you are telling the truth, but they laugh at you and call you an idiot. They call me a hooligan everywhere - at home, at school, at school. I curse everyone, I fight with everyone. I hate whores, I hate where injustice reigns, but I really love the truth. Well, as they call me after that - an “ideological” guy, but I’m a hooligan, then that means an “ideological” hooligan. But that doesn't happen. So who am I really? This is beyond my comprehension. That's why I always hide what kind of person I am so that they don't laugh at me. And those who say they know me well are deeply mistaken. They don’t know me one bit, and I’ll prove it to them. February 27, 1962 In the evenings I live in Victory Park. I'm standing with the guys, talking. Suddenly I see Lenka coming. Well, I immediately jumped up to her and dragged her up the hill. We walked home together. March 3, 1962 Now we will have to go to theory and practice again. Because we have a new master. We immediately liked this master. He allows us to smoke and shout at teachers when they give us bad marks. In general, we will come to an agreement with this master. March 8, 1962Today is a holiday, Women's Day. It should be noted. In the morning I went to Bolshoi Prospekt, I needed to buy my mother a gift. And in the evening we grunted so well that I barely came home. March 14, 1962 During three days of illness, I really missed my friends. Especially in Lenka. I haven't seen her for a long time. What is it, it sits in my head all the time. After all, I didn’t think that I would fall in love with her so much. How much time has passed, and I still haven’t stopped liking her. May 2, 1962 In the morning I went to see Boa Constrictor. We waited for Sashka, and when he arrived, we drank and decided to go to the cinema. In the evening I went out to get some oxygen. I walked along Morskoe. When I passed by the house where Lenka lives, I saw Sashka, Lariska and Lenka. I wanted to come up, but for some reason I was shy. It just seemed to me that I would be superfluous there. I passed another house and turned into the courtyard. May 4, 1962 Actually, I did the right thing in deciding to keep a Diary of my life. I write down everything here, and most importantly - those thoughts, dreams and plans for the future that I don’t tell anyone. Someday my childhood friends will find out that I kept a Diary, and they will be very surprised. I had already decided that they would only be able to read my diaries after the army. When four years have passed since my last entry. May 8, 1962 I did some bad things at school again. They dragged me to the Director. I always end up doing things I don't want to do. A bad, strange nature. A woman was given to us for destruction and she is the source of all our troubles. The evening raised black eyebrows. Someone’s horses are standing in the yard. Wasn’t it yesterday that I drank away my youth? Wasn’t it yesterday that I stopped loving you? Don’t snore, belated troika! Ours life has flown by without a trace. Maybe tomorrow a hospital bed will put me to rest forever. Maybe tomorrow it will be completely different. I will leave, healed forever, listen to the songs of rain and bird cherry trees, how a healthy person lives. I will forget the dark forces that tormented me, destroying me. My appearance