The information received depends on the choice and the behavior with him. If you get to a charlatan and inventor, then the result will be zero. The safest thing is to look for him through connections. It is best to ask those friends who have been to him. There are also punctures with friends, but that is a separate story. Once my life turned out in such a way that outside intervention was simply necessary. I I urgently needed to know the answer to the question, and this answer could only be obtained with the help of higher powers, because neither I nor the person on whom my fate depended could give an answer. I was in such despair that even extreme measures seemed acceptable to me.
I decided to let the spirits tell me what to do next. One of my friends was into spiritualism. According to rumors, she consulted the spirits on the most trivial matters like the lipstick color suits her better. I always laughed at her apartment, littered with various, in my opinion, junk in the form of stink sticks, living candles and mysterious amulets. When I went to her house, I looked at all the sights with some interest, but there was no special meaning to everything Of course, I didn't attach any importance to this. Sometimes my friend would even get offended at me and predict the intervention of spirits in my fate. But before going to my friend, I looked through some materials on this fact and conducted a survey of acquaintances on the topic of magic in their lives.
For the first time in my life, I discovered that many people are fascinated by the unearthly and that they are all incredibly superstitious. Little things for me, signs like a black cat crossing the road, played a major role in their lives. I could not even imagine that adults are so susceptible to their own fears. Naturally, they all sincerely believed in the power of psychic magicians and periodically visited the latter. Even my parents, whom I considered the most reasonable people in the world, convinced me that fortune-tellers and conspiratorial grandmothers are able to cure any disease, which modern doctors cannot.
It was my parents who recommended one psychic, whom they themselves had repeatedly tested. The psychic came with a lot of "true" stories. For example, he taught one married couple to tell fortunes using the Bible. They were faced with the important task of choosing a profession. He was offered a lucrative and promising job with high pay, but abroad, and she had the same one here and it was very difficult to choose. They turned to a "spiritual" doctor for help and were advised to tell fortunes using the Bible, that is, for the head of the house to climb into a secluded place at night, so that no one would see, and open the Bible to any page, there would be an answer to the question, and then do as the Lord indicated. The superstitious couple listened only to the first option.
The head of the house really did climb into the bathroom late at night, ask a question and open the Bible to a random page, but it said not to go abroad, but to stay at home, and the ambitious owner did not like this at all. He did not act as he should have, gathered his family and flew to Germany by plane. Then the story ends very gloomily - all members of the family died in a plane crash. I admit, this story impressed me. It was a little scary, but necessity forced me to take risks. Moreover, I was already really going to listen to the psychic and do as he said.
Having chosen a free day and asked where he lived, I went, taking more money with me, because I knew how highly such people value their work. He lived far away, in some seedy, not at all mysterious area, and I expected to see a dense park and a hut on chicken legs. A small five-story old-style building had already collapsed in places and, apparently, was ready for demolition. On a bench next to the entrance indicated to me sat classic old ladies and cracked sunflower seeds. Children, probably their grandchildren, were jumping around nearby. I entered the shabby entrance and immediately almost suffocated in the damp and heavy air, walked up to the top floor because there was no elevator in sight and stopped in front of a huge door covered in expensive wood.
After pressing the doorbell, I enjoyed the sounds of some aria for a long time and finally entered the apartment. The door was opened by a little girl who, despite her age, had such an important face that I wanted to pull my head into my shoulders and quietly leave unnoticed. I was led into a large, magnificently furnished room and asked to wait for the "master".
I had no other choice. While I was waiting, I looked around the place I had ended up in. The furnishings cost the owner no less than a hundred thousand dollars. But something else was surprising - why did such a wealthy person live in such an old house? This remained a mystery to me. When a quiet voice, similar to the hiss of a snake, was heard next to me, I shuddered, because I had already managed to forget who I had come to.
Turning around, I was even more scared - in front of me stood a huge and majestic old man with cat's eyes. He asked why I had come. A long and serious conversation began. Only later did I understand why psychics talk nonsense to clients before a session. All this is done in order to lull a person's vigilance, and then easily deceive him. At first, the questions about my family and husband, as well as about my place of work, did not arouse much suspicion in me, but then I seemed to wake up. Then everything went in a whirlwind. After listening to my problem, the old man sat me down at the table, took my hands in his and began to cast spells. Of course, I did not understand anything, but I listened attentively.
Then I suddenly wanted to sleep, and suddenly I felt that I was passing out. I woke up on a bench near the entrance, among the old ladies. Looking at my fingers, I did not see any rings there. There was no point in going back, and I understood this well. I don’t go to psychics anymore. When they talk about help from external forces in my presence, I prefer to remain silent. And I don’t listen to my relatives anymore. Let them go to the cat-snake old man themselves and leave their jewelry with him - I will not give in to temptation.
Yakhan Izyan
They keep talking about what a cornucopia it is and how good it is there. They say that the women there are more beautiful, and the men are more enterprising, and the children are smarter and don't behave so badly. Not everyone, of course, thinks so, there are those who spit in the direction of Europe, not seeing anything good in either its inhabitants, nor in their way of life. In fact, everything is much simpler. You just need to remember the classic formula "it's good where we are not" and not envy and not strive "there". We have everything too. True, sometimes we need everything something is missing. Feelings of tact and good manners, for example.
Even in the capital there are many people who do not know how to be elementary polite. They say that in Western countries there are fewer of them. Let's compare two example. Two of my friends always loved to travel and, despite their modest teacher's salary, they allowed themselves to travel and make at least one trip a year. They told me two interesting stories. So, Moscow. A fur boutique. A couple of provincial-looking women came in , timidly looking around and looking back at their reflections in the huge illuminated mirrors, and began to timidly feel the luxurious furs.
They felt like peasant children who had found themselves in a palace. Out of habit, the women began to check the quality by slobbering on the fur. Suddenly, one of them ran into a tall, unapproachable, rock-like saleswoman. Skinny and angry, she measured the cowering customer with an icy gaze and contemptuously demanded that she not touch the fur, adding: "I don't think your fingers are acceptably clean." The poor teacher was frightened and tried to avoid even breathing on the goods until the very end.
Another customer unexpectedly came in. Her appearance inspired pity and sympathy. To say that she was poorly dressed is to say nothing. A clean beggar - that would be the most accurate definition. Clutching a handbag from the seventies, she calmly and intently walked into the cheapest department and began poking her sharp little nose into short and long fur coats, jackets and collars. The saleswoman nearly choked from such impudence, and was immediately joined by two more of the same kind, worthy of the catwalk, who, surrounding the near-beggar, tried to throw her out.
She looked at them resentfully, then turned around abruptly and went to the most expensive department, chose the most expensive coat and put it near the cash register, then opened her old reticule and pulled out... a wad of dollars. The saleswomen jumped up like purebred terriers, rushed to gut the reserves, realizing that in front of them was one of those "crazy" rich people who are "going crazy with fat". And the "rich" one thought for a moment and suddenly took the money and left. The young saleswomen paid for their poor service.
The second example clearly shows how much the Western attitude to the client differs from ours. The same teachers went to Switzerland, and the final stage of their journey was, naturally, a shopping trip. History repeated itself. So, Switzerland, Zurich, a fur boutique. The women, remembering the sad experience of Moscow, hesitated for a long time, but still went in. They were met by a young and very polite consultant who spoke to them in English. The teachers were amazed when he laid out soft and shiny skins in front of them. The boy politely and in detail explained which furs had advantages in both quality and price.
The customers decided, for lack of funds, to at least try them on. They tried them on for two hours, walked in front of the mirrors and admired themselves, and then, satisfied, left, leaving the best reviews in the guest book. But the most amazing thing happened later. Two months later, they received a letter from... the director of that very store in Switzerland, in which he sincerely apologized for the fact that the clients had not chosen anything. He said that the consultant had been fired, and there would never be any more vacancies for him in all of Zurich. They were also offered discounts on all products and payment for a return visit.
My friends were extremely surprised. As honest workers, they were touched and wrote a response in which they tearfully asked not to treat their employees so cruelly and not to fire them for such a trivial reason. And they promised to come again, only in a few years. Then the teachers decided to visit the Moscow boutique again to check and found the same models there, only with completely different faces. Now their service was in no way inferior to Western service. So they won’t have to go to Switzerland again.
Yakhan Izyan