Timssonkz
06-17-2011, 03:00 AM
Âñåì ïðèâåò=)
Íå ñóäèòå ñòðîãî, ýòî ìîé ïåðâûé ýêñïèðèåíñ. Îáðàçîâàíèå ó ìåíÿ äàëåêî íå ôèëîëîãè÷åñêîå. Áóäóò èíòåðåñíû ìíåíèÿ, êðèòèêà è êîììåíòàðèè.
Chapter1. October, 2008.
Dark room, it’s about 5 am, I’m sitting on the chair stupidly staring at the monitor. My eyes are red and hurting from 3 sleepless nights in a row. I’m chain smoking Parliament Lights. Smoking gives me the reminiscence of good old happy days. Back in the high school, during the freshman year we couldn’t afford a pack of good cigarettes, we usually went for cheap ass stinky “Sovereign”. Remember, I went to a former Soviet Union high-school and the difference between life styles and education is huge. American high school students can work and earn money, thus they are a lot more independent and responsible than us. And when it comes to us, average Soviet high school students, we couldn’t work or drive, we had to ask parents for pocket money (which we successfully spent on cheap booze and cigarettes). So if you had a pack of “Parliaments” you automatically became cool.
But at this moment my hair and clothes are all messed up and I’m fucking hungry. I’m definitely far away from my happy old days. You can’t see any emotions on my face; I look like an old drug addict. My face just looks blank, you know they say drugs leave traces on people’s faces, and so does my addiction. I’ve lost a lot of weight, my face and arms became so flabby, no more ripped biceps and 6-pack. Hehe, do I care about it? Hell no! It’s like in the song “You know you’re right” by Nirvana – “nothing really bothers me, all I feel is pain”. My body doesn’t show anything, but my mind is ready to explode. Thoughts keep running through my mind over and over again. I can’t help it, want it to stop, close my eyes and get some sleep. I really need to sleep; I’m so physically and emotionally worn out. Hey, but the addiction doesn’t get tired, it never goes away, it’s always there – sometimes deep inside of your body (soul), sometimes it’s on the surface, your every action and emotion shows that you no longer belong to yourself, you’re possessed... I struggle to keep my eyes open, I’m already 99% sure that I lost, but hope, stupid unexplainable hope keeps me awake. I’ve always wondered why people believe in miracles. I guess it’s the nature of humans, to always believe in something that will never happen. Look at all of the crazy religion freaks, they blindly believe and no one can prove them wrong.
Another 40minutes pass and I hear the final whistle, my NBA team lost by 15 points. Fuck, suki! Goddamn millionaire bastards who can’t play for shit. The problem with sports nowadays is the excessive salaries of athletes, they get multi-million contracts and a certain percentage of those top athletes lack heart and a passion for winning. They know that they will get a couple of million per year no matter if they win or lose. Another bet lost, I’ve been having the longest losing streak ever. I’ve been losing for a 24th straight day. Can you believe it? All of my bets even 1.15 odds are losing? It’s fucking insane. What have I done to piss of betting Gods??? I’m already down by 30K; out of those 30K I borrowed about 20K. The more I try to win my losses back the more I get sucked into losing. I do realize that I should stop, but I can’t since I have to pay back my debts by the end of the month. I was fired from my last job, yeah, I guess I’m not the most responsible worker. I have absolutely no other sources of income but gambling. Right now betting is actually being a source of losses. I can’t even curse for losing the last bet since I’m so exhausted and disappointed. I’m such a failure. One more shattered dream of a winning a jack pot, paying off all of my debts (I can’t even calculate how much I owe to a number of different people). I’m overwhelmed by debt. I don’t even want to estimate how much I owe overall. The total amount is around 2 million US dollars. Often I ask myself how did I end with nothing but debt? Am I addicted to gambling?! I try to push that thought away, but deep inside I still believe that I can fix everything. I’m not a goddamn addict - I’m well educated, smart, bright, and promising young man, who always gets things done. I just need a bit more money, luck, concentration and analysis. I just need more time; there isn’t a worse feeling than not being able to come up with money for the deadline. I feel the time pressure, which makes me nervous, and that in turn leads to stupid, irrational losses. I CAN and WILL win everything back and some more. I certainly deserve a compensation for sleepless nights and disappointments. Everyone just give me a break, I need more time and analysis, and everything will go back to normal.
After today’s loss, I have no cash left at all. My fridge is literally empty, nothing is in there, not even a rotten tomato. Back in college, my fridge wasn’t the fullest one, no food, but lots of beer, and I was much happier. Shit, I’m starving, I really need to eat something or I’ll pass out. I haven’t eaten a normal meal in 2 days. I’m trying to concentrate and think of where I could get some free food. Let’s see, Olga – we broke up because of my gambling, I don’t know if she still cares for me, she probably doesn’t – negative, Erbol – can’t go to him, still owe him 30K, Sergio – negative, debt... Fuck, I’m out of ideas, wait, wait, eureka! Natasha, that’s the chick I used to see every once in a while about 1-2 years ago. She comes from a rich family; she’s always been nice to me. She can pick me up, feed and lend me some money!!! Let me give her a call after I get couple of hours of sleep. I feel so relieved. Everything will work out, just hang on...
Íå ñóäèòå ñòðîãî, ýòî ìîé ïåðâûé ýêñïèðèåíñ. Îáðàçîâàíèå ó ìåíÿ äàëåêî íå ôèëîëîãè÷åñêîå. Áóäóò èíòåðåñíû ìíåíèÿ, êðèòèêà è êîììåíòàðèè.
Chapter1. October, 2008.
Dark room, it’s about 5 am, I’m sitting on the chair stupidly staring at the monitor. My eyes are red and hurting from 3 sleepless nights in a row. I’m chain smoking Parliament Lights. Smoking gives me the reminiscence of good old happy days. Back in the high school, during the freshman year we couldn’t afford a pack of good cigarettes, we usually went for cheap ass stinky “Sovereign”. Remember, I went to a former Soviet Union high-school and the difference between life styles and education is huge. American high school students can work and earn money, thus they are a lot more independent and responsible than us. And when it comes to us, average Soviet high school students, we couldn’t work or drive, we had to ask parents for pocket money (which we successfully spent on cheap booze and cigarettes). So if you had a pack of “Parliaments” you automatically became cool.
But at this moment my hair and clothes are all messed up and I’m fucking hungry. I’m definitely far away from my happy old days. You can’t see any emotions on my face; I look like an old drug addict. My face just looks blank, you know they say drugs leave traces on people’s faces, and so does my addiction. I’ve lost a lot of weight, my face and arms became so flabby, no more ripped biceps and 6-pack. Hehe, do I care about it? Hell no! It’s like in the song “You know you’re right” by Nirvana – “nothing really bothers me, all I feel is pain”. My body doesn’t show anything, but my mind is ready to explode. Thoughts keep running through my mind over and over again. I can’t help it, want it to stop, close my eyes and get some sleep. I really need to sleep; I’m so physically and emotionally worn out. Hey, but the addiction doesn’t get tired, it never goes away, it’s always there – sometimes deep inside of your body (soul), sometimes it’s on the surface, your every action and emotion shows that you no longer belong to yourself, you’re possessed... I struggle to keep my eyes open, I’m already 99% sure that I lost, but hope, stupid unexplainable hope keeps me awake. I’ve always wondered why people believe in miracles. I guess it’s the nature of humans, to always believe in something that will never happen. Look at all of the crazy religion freaks, they blindly believe and no one can prove them wrong.
Another 40minutes pass and I hear the final whistle, my NBA team lost by 15 points. Fuck, suki! Goddamn millionaire bastards who can’t play for shit. The problem with sports nowadays is the excessive salaries of athletes, they get multi-million contracts and a certain percentage of those top athletes lack heart and a passion for winning. They know that they will get a couple of million per year no matter if they win or lose. Another bet lost, I’ve been having the longest losing streak ever. I’ve been losing for a 24th straight day. Can you believe it? All of my bets even 1.15 odds are losing? It’s fucking insane. What have I done to piss of betting Gods??? I’m already down by 30K; out of those 30K I borrowed about 20K. The more I try to win my losses back the more I get sucked into losing. I do realize that I should stop, but I can’t since I have to pay back my debts by the end of the month. I was fired from my last job, yeah, I guess I’m not the most responsible worker. I have absolutely no other sources of income but gambling. Right now betting is actually being a source of losses. I can’t even curse for losing the last bet since I’m so exhausted and disappointed. I’m such a failure. One more shattered dream of a winning a jack pot, paying off all of my debts (I can’t even calculate how much I owe to a number of different people). I’m overwhelmed by debt. I don’t even want to estimate how much I owe overall. The total amount is around 2 million US dollars. Often I ask myself how did I end with nothing but debt? Am I addicted to gambling?! I try to push that thought away, but deep inside I still believe that I can fix everything. I’m not a goddamn addict - I’m well educated, smart, bright, and promising young man, who always gets things done. I just need a bit more money, luck, concentration and analysis. I just need more time; there isn’t a worse feeling than not being able to come up with money for the deadline. I feel the time pressure, which makes me nervous, and that in turn leads to stupid, irrational losses. I CAN and WILL win everything back and some more. I certainly deserve a compensation for sleepless nights and disappointments. Everyone just give me a break, I need more time and analysis, and everything will go back to normal.
After today’s loss, I have no cash left at all. My fridge is literally empty, nothing is in there, not even a rotten tomato. Back in college, my fridge wasn’t the fullest one, no food, but lots of beer, and I was much happier. Shit, I’m starving, I really need to eat something or I’ll pass out. I haven’t eaten a normal meal in 2 days. I’m trying to concentrate and think of where I could get some free food. Let’s see, Olga – we broke up because of my gambling, I don’t know if she still cares for me, she probably doesn’t – negative, Erbol – can’t go to him, still owe him 30K, Sergio – negative, debt... Fuck, I’m out of ideas, wait, wait, eureka! Natasha, that’s the chick I used to see every once in a while about 1-2 years ago. She comes from a rich family; she’s always been nice to me. She can pick me up, feed and lend me some money!!! Let me give her a call after I get couple of hours of sleep. I feel so relieved. Everything will work out, just hang on...