Boris : Writing

7 PHILOSOPHICAL APHORISMS

7 PHILOSOPHICAL APHORISMS

A Story by Boris


1) MY ULTIMATE AIM: To capture all of life's essence in a single sentence and then to refine that sentence into a single word 2) Looking for a me..
P.S. - IN MEMORY OF

P.S. - IN MEMORY OF

A Poem by Boris


Dear P.S. , Your days are numbered, alas it is true, thanks to the e-mail and the text-messages too. Yet I recall the time when you were my l..
THE FIND

THE FIND

A Story by Boris


How these papers came into my possession is of no importance. Suffice to say that no chicanery or deceit were involved in their acquisition. What i..
OLD HABITS DIE HARD

OLD HABITS DIE HARD

A Story by Boris


I have recently been considering how difficult it is to overcome habits, how violently our nature rebels against any attempts to break routines that w..
REVELATA CELESTIA

REVELATA CELESTIA

A Story by Boris


I remember lying on a hillock as a small boy with some friends, watching the sky up above. We are having a competition - who would be the first to gu..
THE PIMPLE AND I

THE PIMPLE AND I

A Story by Boris


It started out inconspicuously and inauspiciously as a small pimple on the lower left of his back, something that no one would ever give a second gla..
THE ANATOMY OF REMINISCENCE

THE ANATOMY OF REMINISCENCE

A Story by Boris


I possess a childhood memory that persists to this very day. It is the middle of a sunny summer day. I am running down the stairs, quickly and excited..
THE MISSING TRUTHS

THE MISSING TRUTHS

A Story by Boris


When we look back, from our 21st century perspective, on the societies of the past, such as those of the Roman Empire or the Medieval Ages, we shudd..
THE RIVER OF LIFE

THE RIVER OF LIFE

A Story by Boris


A fundamental problem exists with trying to discover the meaning of life. (Note that when we talk about the meaning of life we always implicitly as..
AN ODE TO THE CENTURY PAST

AN ODE TO THE CENTURY PAST

A Poem by Boris


That was the age of despair, disrepair but this is now, the New Utopia. That was the time when we killed off our muses throwing their remains..