prestroika-blog

[prestroika-blog]

THE   RISE   OF   THE   NEW   WORLD   POWERS   .     but    then    again    ,    it    is    not    quite    that    simple    .         the    whole    world’s    tuned    in   .         we’re    all     on    display    ,    we’re    not     merely     sportsmen   .     what    will     you     have     us      do         ?       what    will    you    have    us    say       ?       simply    just     a               GAME   OF    CHESS              or    a    conflict    of    ideologies         ?        burn    our   pasts    ,     our          shared    history   .          find   us   here    ,    in    the    ashes    of    the    new    world   .

                         A M E R I C A .                       R U S S I A .   

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bragnsky  ⤻  prestroika

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`   *     THE   BRAGINSKY   FAMILY     :     001     

ivan  fyodorovich  braginsky     :     russia delphine  de la’rouse  braginsky     :     france yekaterina  ivanova  braginsky     :     moscow jean-louis   ivanovich   braginsky     :     paris

(     @douxaime     )

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`   *     DELPHINE     :     AFTER   THE   WAR .

                IT IS UNFAIR THAT WAR MUST PRECEDE LOVE.         for the heart of war herself surely aches   /   limbs that are drawn constantly to the battlefield  ,  the ceaseless spoils of victory and failure .     her lungs are breathless   /   her voice is raw   ,   the commands of so many men have left her weary   ,   watching them each fall by her side        onwards  /  onwards  /  keep fighting until the stars themselves die.           perhaps then   ,   this may be her reverie .     saving grace found in the pools of his eyes and halls long abandoned by time and life .      secrets kept   ,   the days spent all for a moment of  SURPRISE .     she lingers in the doorway now    ,    the white light behind her like a beckoning to heaven    ,    the curve of her lips something otherworldly     ( *    how many have longed to tasted divinity  ?      she-goddess   /   she will grant it only to the man before her .          something like teasing upon her tongue   ,   arms opening the moment he looks up           ‘      have you missed me   ?        ‘

@bragnsky

            ABSENT ,     HALFWAY ,     STUCK      in   routine .     eyes   don’t   even     FLICKER     as   he   descends   stairs ,     book   in   hand .     here   he   is   soft     /     here   he   wears   sweaters   and   drinks   coffee   in   the   afternoon   and   lets   his   hair   fall   in   his   face .     here   he   his     LOVESICK ,     or   perhaps     HOMESICK ,     if   home   can   be   considered   her   heartbeat   pressed   against   his .     says   something   absently   to   jean   about   not   scaring   away   the   guests ,   when   voice   grasps   his   lungs   and   pulls   until   all   the   air   has   left   his   body .     novel          (     *     WAR   AND   PEACE ,     THE   LONGEST   HE   COULD   FIND ,     THE   MOST   DISTRACTING .     )          drops   to   floor ,     loud   as   a   gunshot ,   jaw   lifts   to   see   an   angel   in   the   doorway ,   outlined   by   silver   sun   and   soft   against   the   winter .     his   voice   is   barely   a   whisper ,     his   eyes   brimming   with   tears .               ❛     лисичка .     ❜               surges   forward ,     arms   desperate   wrapping   around   her   waist ,     face   pressed   into   her   shoulder ,     close   as   he   could   possibly   get .               ❛     more   than   you   can   imagine .     ❜

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hi ivan cries when he reads russian literature

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@douxaime

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`   *     ALFRED     :     TWO   DEAD   MEN      !

    ❛     IVAN.     ❜         the   name   feels   foreign   on   lilted   tongue   ,   hidden   in   cheek.             SWALLOW   YOUR   PRIDE     /    SWALLOW  YOUR   PRIDE     /     SWALLOW   YOUR   PRIDE.                let   these   years   pass   without   scathe   ,   hold   your   mind   as   you   hold   your   heart.   captivated   lungs   threaten   to   whisper   to   the   wind   these   untold   secrets   that   pile   ‘pon   souls   that   cannot   reach   for   the   skies   that   you   hold.                   or   perhaps   succumb   to   hubris.                   ❛         why   don’t   you   sit   down   ,   take   a   load   off   ,    the   board   is   already   set   for   a   match.         ❜        far   more   than   matches   ,    more   than                   BLACK     &     WHITE.              lives   that   breathe   within   you.   fingertips   deft   ,   iris    shift   as   leg   crosses   over   the   other   ,   chair   burdened   with   the   weight   of   all   that   you   are.        ❛         i   already   made   my   move   before   you   came   over.   the          first       strike          is   always    pre    -   emptive   ,   don’t   ya   think         ?         ❜

@bragnsky

             LOW   CHUCKLE   AT       back   of   throat          /          always    one   to   hide   in   plain   sight     !          the   best   secrets    are   kept   in   the   very   lines   of   your   palms   ,      at   the   backs   of   ivory   teeth   ,      on   the   tip   of   your   tongue      !          opposing   side   may          NEVER   KNOW          your   true   intentions   .          MOSCOW   RULES      !          always   three   steps   ahead   .         keep   ‘em   on   their   toes   ,      keep   them          SCRAMBLING          like   young   children   .          the   pieces   on   the   board   mustn’t   know   they   are   pawns   in   a   game     !          МЯГКО   ЦТЕЛЕТ   ДА   ЖЁСТКО   СПА��Ь          .       the    cold   man   is   good   at   this          /          the   man   of          ICE          &          HARDSHIP           !          a   master   at   his   own   game     !          takes   a   seat   ,      glances   up   at   man   ‘fore   him   .               ❛     you   are   a   most   predictable   opponent   ,      фредка   .      or   at   least   you   are   good   at   pretending   this   .     ❜

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wow i’ve been gone for like 5 days

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@sleuthis

            ❛     so   you   are      what   ,    like   ,     LITTLE   GIRL   DETECTIVE     ?     ❜

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this just in @douxaime is nastie

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.

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                                             *     лисичка     !

                                                                                    by   roo

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Sergey Brisyuk — Unknown age — Ukraine

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I’M LISTENING TO THE BALALAIKA AND NO ONE LET ME FORGET TO WRITE A META ON HOW MUCH PRIDE AND LOVE IVAN HAS FOR HIS COUNTRY AND CULTURE AND HOW FRUSTRATED HE IS WITH ITS WESTERNIZATION AND IT MAKING EVERYONE SOFT

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*   douxaime

            FORGED OF BRIMSTONE AND FIRE.         maidens such as her   ,   with eyes that burn like hot coals and smiles that put the DEVIL to shame    ;    they were not made for worlds like this.      they were not crafted to be part of the fairy tales which they hath   B U R N E D   .              can you still taste the ash of the pages   ,   do the flames still lick at your fingertips    ,    the soot choking your lungs    ,    do you still long to demolish those who have wronged you      ?          you see those faces in dreams    ,    with maws that drip ichor and honey    ,     their smiles twisting until black ink pours from open orifices.     these faces with gnarled hands like tree roots and eyes that whisper prophecy.         you see them    ,    you want to destroy them    ,   but you ARE them.         so you must destroy yourself in the process.      

rip the skin from your bones   ,   suck the marrow from the bones   ,   dismantle  ,  destroy   ,   forge new empires from the ruins of your own body.      calamity is written within you    ,    power spills from your pores.     you are a force   ,   you are a goddess in your own right.     you will not allow them to tear you apart   ,   you shall be your own undoing.          none other has the right to lay hands upon you    ,    none other DESERVES your softness   ,   your weak spots    ,    your moments of quiet reverence and lilted smiles.      none   ,   perhaps    ,    but him.

you stare    ,    how long has it been now    ?        your mind slips from your body   ,   a floating consciousness   ,   a drifting enigma.     extend your hands towards the raven    ,    fingertips gentle as you yearn to find the secrets that are laid just beyond your reach.            pretty pretty little bird    ,    won’t you let me inside   ?             puff of breath    ,    batted lashes    ,    a battle.       you are a storm in human skin   ,   you will not allow them to damn you to this life.     you will not let FATE determine what is wrong and what is right in your own path.     shift once more   ,   head canted to the side as you lift a hand   ,  fingertip gently tracing down the curve of the raven’s beak   ,   reach towards it’s mind once more.     you do not demand from the raven    ,   you ask.     you do not threaten and push and destroy until the mind becomes pliable in your grasp    ,   you ask instead for the raven’s permission   ,   you inquire for it to bless you with allowance inside. 

@bragnsky

          SONGS   OF   INNOCENCE      /      SONGS   OF   SIRENS   .    wage   war   within   confines   of   ancient   skull                    must   be   so     TIRED     ,    that   boy     !     hymns   of   immortality   etched   into   the   backs   of   your   teeth     /     use   them   to     HOLD   YOUR   TONGUE    .    there   is   power   in     SILENCE     :     in   the   art   of     KNOWING     .    you   have   seen   it   all   ,    haven’t   you     ?     you   have   seen   each      MORNING   ,    EVENING   ,    AFTERNOON     !     ISN’T   IT   A   BURDEN     /     ISN’T   IT   A   BLESSING     ?     ARE   YOU   MAN   OR   MONSTER      /      ARE   YOU   CRUEL    OR    KIND   ?     WHY   CAN   I   NO   LONGER   TELL  THE   DIFFERENCE     /     WHY   CAN   I   NO  LONGER   TELL  THE   DIFFERENCE     ?

he   has   never   seen   anything   more   beautiful   .    a   force   of   nature     /     a   natural   disaster     /     more   storm   than   skin     !     stuns   into   silence   with   a   sidelong   glance   ,    commands   attention   from   the   moment    cherry   lips   part   .     CHALLENGES     the   universe   at   every  turn   ,    burns     HOLY   HOLY   HOLY     !     because   every   breath   is     HAIL   MARY   ,    FULL   OF   GRACE     ,     because   moses   saw     G O D     in  those   flames   ,    because   he   feels   the   need   to     DROP   TO   HIS   KNEES     and   beg   for     FORGIVENESS     .

gentle   finger   reaches   for   raven’s   beak   and   you   feel   its   ghostly   mirror   down   the   bridge   of   your   nose   .    palm   caresses   the   psyche   ,    allow   just   a   bit   of     GIVE     .    slips   from   your   grasp   as   raven   ruffles   feathers   on  your   shoulder     /     asks   permission   to   show   her   a   memory   .    traces   each   line   of   her   face   with   careful   gaze   .          ❛     you   are   doing   well   ,    лисичка   .    now   do   not   demand   the   memory                   let   it   choose   you   .     ❜

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@patriotborne