paveltashkinov's thread

Discuss any questions in English. Practise your writing skills.

Модератор: zymbronia

paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#176

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Confusion
So great that you have to vent it
Without any outlet
Derailing your train of thought
Making you lose direction

Suddenness
Of all your insecurities leaping forth at you
No longer lurching in the backyard of your mind
Coming to the fore

Uncertainty
Is the most loathsome thing that befalls me
As well as a lot of men way better
Than your humble supplicant
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#177

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Stages keep on changing.

The 10s are about to end. Harking back on the past decade, how do you feel?

Contentment is the word that springs to my mind. I’ve made it from some slightly-above-average not-so-secure college student to an average yuppie. A veritable achievement. And that’s fine.
I seem not to have accomplished anything exceptional. I feel that I perhaps could have done better. Being intelligent is just a promise, and it more and more feels like I am too profligate with it, laying it all to waste. Well, perhaps, I’m not that smart at all. So be it. I do not harbor any illusions about that. Being average is okay.

These years passed by on a breakneck speed. I’ve had it all. Romances, disillusionment, betrayals, struggles, being stuck on a dead-end job, landing a job at a world-known company. Finding something I was so passionate about and having to abandon my passion as impractical. Being betrayed by people I used to love more than anyone else and betraying other people who loved me. Meeting new people, becoming friends or at least casual acquaintances with them, only to fall out with them later.

I consider myself lucky to have turned my hobbies into something more tangible and profitable. I’ve been enthusiastic about chemistry for almost twenty years. A foreign language came to the picture only about six years ago, but it became an inextricable part of my personality as well as something I could bring to the table whenever the question of my value was raised. Perhaps, it may also be something I may resort to if push comes to shove and I find myself unemployed and having to eke out a meager income to cover my basic expenses, loans and shit.

I’ve had many a series of ups-and-downs. I have seen the extremes. They made me realize that it is the in-between that matters. Sure, these spikes of success are good, but they aren’t meant to last forever. Likewise, bouts of failure are temporary and bound to end. You may not get laid in a year, and you may bed down three different girls on three consecutive nights. You may find someone you can comfortably coexist with and get bored with them. You may fuck some batshit crazy girl who will go after you and try to ruin your life later. You may be grasping at straws while looking for whatever jobs available simply because you must sustain yourself. You may be enjoying some well-paid sinecure for quite a long chunk of time. You may be disposed of at a moment’s notice because of some silly thing. Like, now it’s almost New Year’s Eve. No sooner had I got a mortgage and bought my first apartment a couple of days ago than I jeopardized my job of the last four years and my only source of income through no fault of mine due to some confusion on the road. I got pulled over by the police who claimed that I was driving the wrong way, yet I hadn’t seen any signs that would indicate this. Because there were none. As a result, I may get my license taken away for half a year. Even though my customer is in a one-hour commute from my new place, I doubt my boss will take it lightly. So, everything is in the constant state of flux. Anyway, I feel quite upbeat about what lies ahead, perhaps, without any ground for feeling so. So be it.

Take your guess, spurious at best, can’t you see it’s all just chaos?

Time is the most precious resource that we have. Only now that I’m about to turn 27 and I feel like I’m ready to settle down (When have my belligerence and discontent with “good enough” disappeared? It is the mortgage loan that changed my mind?) do I come to understand how valuable it is.
When I’m 50 and looking back at the 10s, my perception will perhaps be different. Right now, I want to do something meaningful to other people. I want to bring some tangible value.
And I guess I will.
Easy-Breezy English
Сообщения: 4292
Зарегистрирован: 22 мар 2019, 17:15
Благодарил (а): 813 раз
Поблагодарили: 2861 раз

#178

Сообщение Easy-Breezy English »

paveltashkinov пишет: 29 дек 2019, 13:16 Stages keep on changing.
Beware, Pavel. Change mocks us with her beauty. :-)

P.S.
Sorry about the the car situation.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#179

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Easy-Breezy English,
Maturity is making me poetic!
That's lovely.
Easy-Breezy English
Сообщения: 4292
Зарегистрирован: 22 мар 2019, 17:15
Благодарил (а): 813 раз
Поблагодарили: 2861 раз

#180

Сообщение Easy-Breezy English »

I just love Olaf. Sometimes he reminds me of you. :-)

Why don't you try writing something on the people around you? Those friends, girlfriends...
What stages they are going through, what interests them, worries them - that kind of thing.
That could help you shift your focus a bit.
За это сообщение автора Easy-Breezy English поблагодарил:
paveltashkinov
Аватара пользователя
acapnotic
Сообщения: 3912
Зарегистрирован: 02 мар 2018, 07:49
Благодарил (а): 279 раз
Поблагодарили: 922 раза

#181

Сообщение acapnotic »

Easy-Breezy English пишет: 30 дек 2019, 10:09 Why don't you try writing something on the people around you?
Writing on the people? What a strange idea. :)
За это сообщение автора acapnotic поблагодарили (всего 2):
Easy-Breezy English, paveltashkinov
Easy-Breezy English
Сообщения: 4292
Зарегистрирован: 22 мар 2019, 17:15
Благодарил (а): 813 раз
Поблагодарили: 2861 раз

#182

Сообщение Easy-Breezy English »

acapnotic, ROFL!!!
Didn't even notice it. :-))))))))
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#183

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Easy-Breezy English,
Perhaps, because I seldom think about that. But I'll try.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#184

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

A VICIOUS CYCLE

The scene Paul has just involuntarily been a witness to has made his mind drift back to once when he was standing beneath the star-studded sky of Italy, utterly aloof, munching up a cigar. Some local girl peacefully slept somewhere in the room behind. He had a white sheet wrapped around his body, naked, save for a wristwatch and an Ehrenring on his wedding finger. The sheet also seemed to ensconce his mind as well.

White sheets wrap my mind
In drunken thoughts of runes and men
Why does the Devil leave for us
This legacy of loneliness?


This tune sprung to Paul’s mind seemingly out of nowhere, yet he found it oddly befitting the circumstances. The thrill was gone. An acrid smell of the cigar burnt his nostrils as he lit it. He submerged in his sulky reflections.

The air had the sound of silence. The night was silent but for the distant chirping of crickets or cicadas. Tom aloofly noticed that this was quite unusual, for cicadas are not nocturnal, so it had to be some crickets. Whatever. This bout would have to end. Tomorrow. What conclusions do other people arrive at in a situation like mine? What would they think? Would they at all?

Up to a certain juncture, each adventure of this kind felt different. There would be this fierce excitement, this trepidation, this sense of novelty, this sparkling exuberance. Then there came a woman who challenged Paul for the first time and who corrupted and liberated his very core. What remained of Paul was his utter loneliness, the loneliness he made friends with.

In his youth, his essence was well-hidden behind his mask of unapproachable gloominess. It was only those few people whom he knew well and whom he put trust in who could say that he was different. Kind, aspiring, thoughtful. With every passing year, however, something seemed to change. Little by little, Paul understood the importance of appearances and connivances, of small white lies, of those deceptions people put up to seem more important, of everything that people call ‘etiquette’ and ‘propriety’, of all those social lubricants that make our lives bearable. However, each time he picked up some piece of this knowledge, often unbeknownst to himself, a small grain of his genuine self was dissolved into that stream of conventions. Paul’s former self was getting washed away, without him even realizing it. Up until now.

“Are we going to the flea market in the morning?” asked a sleepy voice from under the sheets back in the room.

Paul spat a bit of tobacco stuck between his lips and resolutely said “Yes”.

The morning greeted them with a chilly drizzle, so refreshing after the sultry night. A bed of roses under the veranda adjacent to the house glimmered in a feeble stream of sunlight, struggling through pebble-coloured clouds. On the shady side of the house lay verdant fields of the vivid green, stretching as far as the eye could see. Shifting from one foot to the other, Paul was impatiently waiting for Kate to finish her morning routine and catch up with him. Women. They always do the same things. Who would’ve thought.

When Kate finally perched on the doorstep, Paul couldn’t withhold a sigh of relief. He smiled, fumbled about in his pockets, procured a Kleenex, and dabbed the corners of her lips. “There’s some lipstick over there”, said he, in a somewhat apologizing voice as if it were his own fault.

“Oh, come on,” snapped Kate and slightly slapped his hand away from her face before cavorting away down the road to the town, snaking around the field. Paul darted after her.

A small Mediterranean town was slowly emerging from the slumber of the night. Here and there, street peddlers were busy mounting their makeshift plywood kiosks, café owners were lifting the roll-down shutters of their joints, welcoming their mostly local habitués who would follow their usual routine of the morning cup of strong espresso and a newspaper on the way to work.

“This kind of gelato sucks,” authoritatively put Paul. “The kind of ice cream we have in Russia is way better than this I dunno what.”

“Oh, is it?” asked Kate, somewhat coyly, keeping playing her part.

“Ah, yeah. At least, it doesn’t melt as soon as you’ve bought it, it’s more savoury, it tastes like cream, like ice cream should taste. This is poles apart from that. Perhaps, you may try it one day.”

“Well, perhaps. But this one is…”

“*****!”, suddenly blurted out Paul, switching to his native language, crouching down. The waffle cone of his ice cream had suddenly chipped and collapsed, scattering its contents on the asphalt and all over the couple.

The scene was gone. On the floor of the workshop Paul worked in lay a crushed IBC tote which had just fallen off the cathead, spilling hypochlorite solution all over the place. The loose end of the torn wire remained hanging in the air, bouncing back and forth.
Easy-Breezy English
Сообщения: 4292
Зарегистрирован: 22 мар 2019, 17:15
Благодарил (а): 813 раз
Поблагодарили: 2861 раз

#185

Сообщение Easy-Breezy English »

paveltashkinov пишет: 31 дек 2019, 08:09 because I seldom think about that. But I'll try.
It just seems that if you wish to bring something to people, tangible or not, it makes sense to start with taking some interest in those people.
Otherwise, how do you know what to bring?
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#186

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Easy-Breezy English,
Okay, what would you like to read about?
Easy-Breezy English
Сообщения: 4292
Зарегистрирован: 22 мар 2019, 17:15
Благодарил (а): 813 раз
Поблагодарили: 2861 раз

#187

Сообщение Easy-Breezy English »

paveltashkinov, I dare not control your muse. :-) It was more of a general suggestion. For your own benefit, sort of.

My favorite text by you so far has been the one about that chemical plant. It was really neat in the way it showed your sincere fascination with a subject that many would consider esoteric and boring. A lot more fun and life-affirming than reading about a 26-26.5-27.32-year-old crisis.

Well, that and the potato chip production masterpiece. That was a veritable tour de force, to use your parlance. :-)))
За это сообщение автора Easy-Breezy English поблагодарил:
paveltashkinov
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#188

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Musings about life and love made no sense,
Absence at times is as palpable as presence.
Rapprochement, if occasional, was never meant to be.
Glowing with exuberance, we lounged in our glee.

Amends cannot be made. We’re throwaways. We swerved.
Repentance? We don’t need it. Comeuppance was deserved.
Enough was said and done. Take care, girl, and - farewell.
The sweet song you once sang me was only my death knell.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#189

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Easy-Breezy English, here you go, yet another text about some plants.)

How my first extended business trip made me fall in love with my job

It all happened like a bolt from the blue. The deadlock of the year before was past, as was my fear of a seemingly imminent lay-off. I had been looking forward to something worthwhile, to something I could sink my teeth into. Finally, there it was, an e-mail from my boss confirming that the trial tests of a new product had been approved and I was assigned to conduct them.
By this time, I wasn’t new to the job, having been sent away to a plethora of customers across my region. I had travelled far and wide. My knowledge of chemistry was up to scratch. Perhaps, I wasn’t that au fait with power plants and their specifics, but I was sure that I’d pick up what was needed in no time. Still, I couldn’t suppress my tremendous excitement. I saw some potential there. Something could be gained. If I were to deliver some tangible results, sales would follow.
During the course of the next six weeks, I was darting between my hometown and my destination, clocking up 1000 km each week, mounting the necessary equipment, talking to different people, adjusting feed rates of different chemicals, gauging the performance of the treatment program, burning the midnight oil trying to cobble together some decent and coherent reports. The first three weeks was a hell of a time when everything seemed to be going haywire. The results were at best mixed. I kept racking my brains trying to figure out what to do next. I reached out to different people across all the sections of the plant. I had a hard time explaining what was going on and what I was hoping to achieve. Little by little, the skepticism and reluctance of the personnel were fading away. Eventually, having won trust of the chief chemical engineer and shift managers, I was given a carte blanche.
That said, some kudos should be given where kudos are due. This success wouldn’t have become possible if it had not been for immense teamwork and collaboration within my company. I am glad to have worked with my area manager, whose guidance and insightfulness were instrumental, and who lend me a helping hand whenever some calculations seemed not to add up. Another contributor to our success was the sales rep I work in conjunction with, whose soft skills mentorship was invaluable. It is his negotiation skills, business acumen and leadership that had helped me grow and become an engineer that I am.
Challenging though they were, these trial tests rekindled my somewhat lukewarm romance with my job and made me more confident in the field. I was singled out for a praise and promoted shortly after they ended. Business-wise, the trials helped us secure that business for at least one more year. Needless to say, the customer was left happy, confident that their equipment was looked after and operated in the most optimal conditions.
Easy-Breezy English
Сообщения: 4292
Зарегистрирован: 22 мар 2019, 17:15
Благодарил (а): 813 раз
Поблагодарили: 2861 раз

#190

Сообщение Easy-Breezy English »

paveltashkinov, :-))))).
Have you been nominated for some chemical Oscar or something? Working on your speech? :-)
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#191

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Easy-Breezy English,
Why are under this impression?
Oh, now that I've read my last post again, it kinda dawned on me why.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#192

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

*Why are you under this impression?
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#193

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Whither does our raft float?
A tumultuous stream broke the serenity of an early morning. Seething black torrents of water gushed forth, breaking their way through the smallest fissures in rocks, tearing them apart, pulling up trees by their roots and cracking them in halves as if they were as fragile as matches.
With every second, the roar of the stream was coming closer and closer. We had just enough time to cobble together a makeshift raft out of whatever flotsam and jetsam we could find. No sooner had I driven the last nail in a cross-sectional piece of plywood holding the raft together than we found ourselves being carried away by the black stream, voraciously devouring everything that came in its way. By some miracle, we were spared.
Fierce winds were almost blowing us off and away from the only safe place that seemed to exist. We drove our fingers into the wet wood of the raft, driving splinters in our flesh. There was just one thought that kept throbbing in our ears through the cold, fear and pain. Hold out.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#194

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

The Internet used to be a very different place. I went online in 2008 or somewhere along those lines, when Web 2.0 was still in its infancy, Nokia was still making some decent smartphones, and 3G was yet to become a thing.
It was a magic place. Skype, ICQ, LiveJournal, VK as it used to be – you name it. The Net was like a new frontier. Self-expression (which I paid dearly for later on), personalization, information flowing so freely and openly. Opportunities seemed to be endless. VK was still a useful way to keep up with real-time friends.
2007 has come to be regarded as the best year by many people, at least across my generation, not in the least due to the Internet of this time. Then came the omnipresence of smartphones and high-speed mobile Internet. Ironically, these advances only hastened the demise of the Web as it used to be, for with them came the shift towards uniformity. Thence things went irreversibly downhill.
Anonymity became non-existent. The line between the real life and the online life became blurred. That’s when all the fun fizzled out. That’s when the Internet became a dull place. So boring is it nowadays that we have come to view being offline as a privilege, something that would have been impossible just a decade ago. Nowadays, it is all boring, insipid, sterile, uniform. Gone is VK. Gone is FB. Gone is YouTube. Reddit seems to hold ground, but, perhaps, it’s just because I’m new to it.
The monopoly of a small handful of companies, the dominance of those digital behemoths, rendered the Net corporate. No sooner had the said companies realized that they could monetize people’s communication than whatever novelty there used to be was gone. Thrill of learning something new waned. Social media users became a new oil in this digital age we’re living in. VK, a FB clone, used to be a platform to chat on. Now it’s all about advertising and being spied on. Youtube is tightening the screws, demonetizing independent channels that furnished high-quality content that was worth our while, whenever they do not fall in line with the prevalent political agenda. A few prominent channels have been blocked. The only thing YT seems to be interested in is promotion of big corporations. Now it’s about THEM, but it used to be about US. It’s all gone. What we are left with now is just a vanity fair on IG, a popularity contest pretty much elsewhere. We no longer talk to each other as we used to on the streets or at dance clubs because we are glued to our phones, because we are too busy perpetuating this vicious cycle of envy, self-loathing, and comparisons we have embroiled ourselves in, unbeknownst to ourselves.
While the golden age officially ended in 2009, things seem to have been fairly good up through 2014, despite a slow yet steady decline in quality. In 2016 we saw people’s opinions being shaped entirely on VK, FB and Twitter, and onward we saw social networks double down on their shit at a higher rate. Now, it is a dystopia without aesthetic.
Can something be done about it? The Renaissance will only be possible if we take a stand, scale down and create something unique. Something about US. I will take efl-forum over Reddit every day. I will take Skype over DMs. It's time we stopped, reflected and reappraised our daily habits and our love-hate relationship with the Internet.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#195

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

You have seen the advertisement below for a competition in a travel magazine. You decide to enter, making sure your article meets the requirements.

Competition time!
Have you ever been on a trip when everything's gone wrong? We're sure plenty of you have. Well, if you have, why not enter our competition? It's called THE TRIP FROM HELL and we're looking for the best article of that title.
Tell us about a journey you took that was a complete nightmare. How did you feel? How do you feel about it now?


It must have been the stifling summer of 2018. The news of the forthcoming district meeting that I had been looking for had just reached me. The location was kept in secret up until the moment when me and my colleagues reached the airport. With a mixture of surprise and shock, we were flying to the Issyk Kul Lake in Kyrgyzstan.
The flight itself was a plain sailing, as was the customs. Only when my group congregated around the transfer buses did my gut feeling tell me that something was off. There was little I could do about it, anyway, so I just braced myself for the unknown and hopped into the black coolness of the bus.
According to an itinerary brochure that was issued to me, the hotel we were to reside in during the following week was situated at a picturesque mountainous place near the lake. My curiosity got the better of me, so I consulted a map to check how long it would take for us to get there. Four hundred kilometers seemed like something that could be covered within a couple of hours. Little did I realize how huge my miscalculation was!
During the first hour, the road was almost empty. The landscape behind the window seemed to be monotonously sliding by our caravan. Eventually, I dozed off and woke up only six hours later. Imagine my dismay when I realized that we were only halfway through our journey! By this time, the stifle, suffocating air of the bus had driven every passenger, myself included, insane. I aloofly reflected that it would have been nice to have bought more water, but it was too late. I rummaged in my pockets for something refreshing, procured a menthol candy bar, threw it in my dry mouth and closed my eyes again. Much as I tried to fade off back to sleep, I couldn’t. The suffocating air was enveloping me, my head was throbbing; my eyes were dry and sore. I sighed and acquiesced to my fate.
It was with a huge sense of relief that I left the bus after the ordeal of the previous eight hours. The beauty of the scenery did little to soothe my tired nerves. I grabbed my bag, checked in at the receptionist desk, went to my hotel room, and fell asleep as soon as I threw myself across a huge white bed. They say, time makes us forget our unpleasant memories. Truth be told, I still remember this jinxed trip as vividly as if it happened as recently as yesterday. After this trip, whenever I hear someone vociferously acclaiming the picturesque scenery around the Issyk Kul, I can’t help but scoffing at them. Never again. Every cloud has a silver lining, though. At least, now I know what places should be avoided at all costs.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#196

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Write about longing. How does it feel to go about a normal day when your character wants something else?
Write for fifteen minutes.


Grit my teeth, and face a new day dawning.
© Johnny Cash, Hungry


Waking up, never alone, always with the same thoughts that keep on nagging in the head, that keep gnawing at the inner self is unenviable. Unfortunately, Mark can’t help it. The morning routine seems like a haze. Comb hair. Brush teeth. Splash cold water onto the face. Doesn’t help. A breakfast of coffee and oatmeal. Breakfast. “What did I eat just ten minutes ago?” Starting the engine. Whatever. The traffic is as rarefied as it was yesterday. “What did I do yesterday?” Whatever.

It’s all the same, the same, the same. Utterly repetitive. “Thank God I haven’t married, otherwise there’d be a woman who’d be pestering me with all sorts of shit. Too much of a load. Oh God, if I could just pack up and go.” He almost missed the turn. The same gates. The same countercurrent streams of people leaving and entering the same factory. No, he doesn’t have time for a smoke. “Why didn’t I kick the habit yet?” Here’s his pass. No, nothing. “Hello.” “Hello.” “Yes, the usual check-up and maintenance if need be.” Check-up. Are his results ready? Not that there was something he should worry about. No more what-ifs, anyway. Oh, boy, wasn’t it worth it. “Just kick yourself right now.” At least, this year wasn’t that bad. Why is the sky so dreary? It was unusually warm back there. Everything seems to have been outlandish, out of place, outstanding, surreal. So what. Come what may.

“At least, there’s some room for growth,” thought Mark. “I’m not too old to stop dreaming big. Adulthood. Why am I smirking? I don’t know why I’m laughing; I actually feel miserable. Do all adults feel this way?” Well, a lot of them do. He still hoped he wasn’t going to become one of them. He would rather be dead. How self-reassuring. A cell phone blipped. “Wow. Surprise. As if I didn’t have anything else to be looking forward to. Sure. I will come around.”
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#197

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Finer things in life

To have retired from a job you hated and to be looking forward to the better one ahead.
When delivering a presentation at an annual meeting on how much has been achieved and how you're going to be working next year, setting Inspector Norse by Todd Terje as the background music and thrusting your pelvis as you’re reading through it.
To be driven around a city you’re visiting for the first time, your seat reclined, bottle of wine in your hand, blowing your lungs out, singing aloud.
To wake up in the morning, only to realize that you don’t have to go to work and can do whatever you want or do nothing at all.
To smoke some weed and to catch the vibe of the music playing on, and to stupidly smile and bounce to the rhythm without a care in the world.
To see the Sun going down while standing on a sun-lit warm corrugated roof.
To come home after sleeping with someone new that you are tremendously excited about.
To have a get-together with friends on some lakeside, music blasting out from inside someone’s car, a bonfire being kindled nearby.
To travel solo, and to see the landscapes of a new country you’ve never been to before passing by behind the window of your bus.
To see that your parents are still able to sustain themselves, do not shy away from learning something new, and are trying to stay au courant with new developments and technologies.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#198

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

Pick a random word in a dictionary and write ~250 words about it.

Horology
Horology has come to be considered as an art by many. Or has it? It is easy to say so when you have become a watch enthusiast, an aficionado, as one snobbish and prolific YouTube blogger dealing with the subject aptly put it, but it may not be the case for others.
Horology comes hand in hand with our fascination with intricate and delicate mechanisms. Watches are so ubiquitous nowadays. Some people view them simply as a tool to tell time, others regard them as a status symbol. Some do not care about the watches they wear; others would be ready to talk for hours about their mechanisms, quirks and features. Well, tastes differ.
For me, a wristwatch used to be more of an accessory. I would have no trouble wearing some cheap and robust Casio insofar as it did its job well. It all seemed to change about a year ago; what was the catalyst of this change I don’t know. Anyhow, mechanical watches assumed some flair, so I ended up buying my first mechanical Orient. Half a year later, I bought my first dive watch by the same manufacturer. Not that I dive; I just liked how it looked like and I knew it was decent. That’s it. Still, it was the first watch I had been picking, choosing, and buying. Although the novelty of possession is gone, I’m still happy with it. Exceptional value for money, robustness, good design, the incredible blue of the dial. Never came to regret it.
paveltashkinov
Сообщения: 553
Зарегистрирован: 01 мар 2018, 12:35
Благодарил (а): 318 раз
Поблагодарили: 142 раза

#199

Сообщение paveltashkinov »

What a time to live in.
2020. Reality is becoming memefied. Putin has been around for more than twenty years. It is a generation. As someone who was born in 1993, I remember him throughout all my life. It is sad, if you come to think of it. The world itself is turning into a more uncomfortable place to live in. It more and more resembles a digital concentration camp we are all imprisoned in. Perhaps, this metaphor is too strong. Perhaps. It should also be conceded that this Zeitgeist can be more accurately perceived only in hindsight, so it is only after at least forty-fifty years elapse that we will be able to reappraise what the first quarter of the 21st century was really like. Sure. But this evaluation is not what I bore in mind when writing this article.
There is a palpable, growing and worrying feeling of uncertainty. Sure, it seems quite unlikely that a full-blown war like World War Two will ever break out again. Proxy wars like those waged during the Cold War also seem to have become a thing of the past, with the US being the only hegemon in the contemporary world. Some may claim that China is also striving to become a superpower. Indisputably, China is a force to be reckoned with. Be that as it may, to be on par with America, China has to create a culture which will be globally accepted and promulgated. In this respect, China is still lagging way behind the US. Who said Russia?
Still, something seems terribly amiss. It feels like thirty years ago, about the time when I was born, the world must have been a more hopeful place. America was yet to succumb to the siren song of SJW. To have conceived the notion that majority of Americans would believe that their country, once an unrivalled superpower, is on the brink of a civil war would have been horrifying and unthinkable. Equally outlandish would have been to have thought of a civil war still smoldering in Ukraine, on the fringes of Russia. America was perceived as the embodiment of justice, freedom and democracy. The Soviet empire collapsed under the weight of its own irreconcilable problems, and the world was looking at a new Russia with cautious optimism and hope. There was a tide of progress sweeping the whole world. Western culture was vibrant and positive. The Harry Potter novels. Infinite Jest. The Simpsons. Friends. The Internet was making its inroads into our daily lives, coping with its teething problems. At the beginning of the decade nobody had heard of the Web; by the end of the decade we had browsers and cellphone networks. Steve Jobs returned to Apple. Moreover, we had just the right amount of technology. We weren’t tyrannized by our smartphones. Social media didn’t yet make our life miserable. The craze about global warming wasn’t yet a thing.
This hope is gone. We seem to be stuck in a quagmire of SJW, tolerance, migration crises, perverted notions of feminism, mindless scrolling though memes about everything, caricature alt-rights, climate activists and freaks of all sorts. When and where have we gone wrong? Will, if ever, politics become something palatable again? When will people stop feeling visceral revulsion whenever this word is mentioned?
mustang
Сообщения: 6070
Зарегистрирован: 23 май 2018, 06:17
Благодарил (а): 926 раз
Поблагодарили: 2040 раз

#200

Сообщение mustang »

paveltashkinov,

wow, man, you are on fire!

Ответить
  • Похожие темы
    Ответы
    Просмотры
    Последнее сообщение

Вернуться в «Practise Your English»