Eye of power

And “Eye of power” now in English too!
I wrote this book because I met people, whom I helped with thoughts, which I put into this book. It was when I worked as a psychologist.
All stories in it are real. Just heroes have their prototypes, but not wholly are wrote from real people. Hopefully, this book will make your life brighter and happier.

From: In the meantime, I can’t be of any use to the plot of this story, and I can tell you more about our village. You already know that people here are under the strange curse, but that’s not all. Our town could serve as a backdrop for some horror movie, in the style of finished Kafka Castle. It only from the outside, on a warm sofa, seems that It’s so exciting to get to a mystical place, but when a visitor gets to us, what he sees seems so strange that he blinks, and tries not to notice anything at all. The locals know how to swear without spending nerves. Would you want to know how to do this? They can scream, cry, but then quite calmly speak with someone else, on another subject, well, even with those whom they swear with can talk to another topic in a friendly manner and laughing. Right there, at the moment of the scandal. Sometimes village scandals can drag an entire street or several ones. And then walk away, as if nothing happened. But if it involves only the locals. But if the scandal manages to engage a stranger, a relative, a guest, then there is a magical action. Imagine two women arguing, a crowd gathered around them, divided into two camps, all were quarrelling. And now, from one side, suddenly a stranger intervenes in the scandal. Do you think they’re all throwing themselves at him? It’s often typical for the group scandal to choose as a lightning rod the control, most fair point. But why would I tell you that? Everybody knows that. Oh, no, they all listen greedily to the stranger without answering, and only when he or she gets silent, someone, sometimes even from the same camp, is throwing wood on the fire, so that the stranger continues to carry the righteously-angry monologue. And all listen to, absorbing live emotions, and even the one who is chastised by the stranger, just says some dissenting remarks so that he or she continued. If you are attentive enough – very calm ones. And all have wary calm eyes. The task is to bring the stranger to hysterics, to a blow, to tears, to the edge. Sometimes, the stranger in tears runs away, the most desperate ones call him back, but if he or she doesn’t stop, this alien to the human race crowd doesn’t run after him, probably, it would be a terrible view. Children who have not yet learned to control themselves in our village do so, and even, like limbs of the devil, try to tap with sticks and call out with the cries the stranger hiding somewhere in the house. But adults don’t, adults, smiling, look at each other and, happily, go about their businesses. When into the scandal couldn’t be summoned – there is no way to call it otherwise! – the stranger, the adults disperse, as if nothing has happened, a little annoyed. As if, they don’t have live emotions, and can only imitate them, so they have nothing to feed each other with. I don’t know what kind of race this is, I’ve never met such people, only in our village. I can’t do that, so I can’t tell you this secret, although I’ve managed to learn how to handle the conflict without drowning in it. A useful skill, try it.

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