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Return to Montmartre. How to achieve your dream? :.: Article 12.02.2019 at 21:00 :.: Article

He was sixty-two. What he saw in his life? Grew up in a family where the father drank, beat his mother and then went to another. The mother built her personal life. First one, then another, then a third. In their humble, and even poor house, and then there were new men. In the evening they stroked his hair, gave a handful of candy or more often did not pay attention, and in the morning disappeared, so never again in his life not appear. At fourteen he was sent to military boarding school, in the forlorn hope that he will follow in the footsteps of his father-military, but rather to somewhere to give it. But the military out of it and did not work. In boarding him, home boy, have not sweet. Military discipline, each step on schedule, lack of personal space were not to the liking of the young, freedom-loving person. At eighteen he finishes trade school and the diploma becomes a specialist in the repair of radios and televisions. But his profession did not hold; he's not even trying to get a job, and going to the army. After the army works for long here, there is wife and had a son. Then the divorce, the disintegration of the country, unemployment and the search for means of sustenance. The mess in the country, the mess in destiny... and was crawling, not even tech, his life. Slowly and nowhere. Nothing remarkable: just like everyone else. By 2000, all a bit to sink in. Appears stable and even sometimes favorite work. Sometimes there is money that he spends on books, but for the most part of the journey. At the time he first arrived in France, about which so much is heard and read. And from that time begins a secret affair. The affair with France. Silly, of course, had an affair with countries, not with women. Women at least have a faint hope for reciprocity. But who said everything in life should be smart and in reciprocity, and not as just want, at least sometimes? Because by and large, we all force ourselves to do what we need someone, not what we want. Guided by the mind, logic, that will benefit. And finally, sometimes, we begin to understand what I was doing, now I want to do wrong, and how I just want. He first came to France, we can say, accidentally. Has turned a cheap ticket, and he was tempted, honestly, without much interest. But when we drove down the Champs-élysées, visited Montmartre, first tasted French cuisine and met with French hospitality, I realized that I fell in love. And fell in love for a long time. Then, once warm from cold Russia, he realized that he was in a completely different dimension. Although, due to the relentless globalization, people in Russia, that France has not so much different, as more recently, the difference was still. He was particularly amazed when incredible beauty, full of grandeur and history the palaces of kings and French lightness. Ease throughout. In communication, the ability not to judge and if the judge, on the positive side. The ease against each other. The incredible lightness of being. Since then it took no less than fifteen leg. In France he was no longer, care consumed, and money always, except for food and some small things were not enough. However, the outbreak of a new love burning even fire, sometimes flashing, sometimes fading, but never completely went out. Yesterday, finally, he was fired. "Finally", because, on the one — "right" — side is, of course, was a disaster, he "survived" until retirement just a year. But on the other hand, he was happy to jump out of this squirrel cage, in which he had beaten his feet and hands, and breathe deeply. To flounder on just wasn't forces. "Well, then — come what may" — a la guerre comme a la guerre. Not much worrying about the future, as he did all his life, he bought a one way ticket. "Moscow — Paris". Just because it was the first desire that he had. Packed a toothbrush, shaving machine, linen, withdrew all his thirty-five thousand, and the next morning flew from snowy Moscow to the French. "I'm coming to you, dear France! Greet me!"... To be continued......

This article describe tags: France, Paris