English / 09.09.2019 / 9194

Brasileiro. Chapter II

Nikolay Mokhov, author from the Dark Side of Business

Part I. Vaeroy

Chapter II. The travelers’ club

Brasileiro had spent a long time washing himself off in the shower. The smell of fish refused to go away. The man was desperately rinsing his nose — it felt as if some invisible particles somehow got there. In the end, he gave up, dressed up in something clean and set off to greet his guests. Today there was a real celebration — a young woman finally arrived in the house where he lived.

When he was younger, he wouldn’t have even looked at a girl with even a hint of cellulitis. Nowadays, he had visions of a big rough female butt in the mornings

Vaeroy was an island of single men. The issue with sex was prevailing. In the beginning, when Brasileiro was at a bar and spotted a girl, he instantly began shooting his shot (**).
His kind neighbors stopped him. Using broken English, they explained that the girl was the only daughter of the island’s only policeman. It could have ended badly — the aborigines didn’t approve of their local women fooling around with foreign gentlemen.

Today’s beauty was a newcomer. That was good — perhaps, there was a chance at something happening… An older comrade once told Brasileiro:

— You chose the life of a sailor... What women do you expect? You know what they say about Arkhangelsk? Anguish, plank and codfish. That’s what’s waiting for you. Women aren’t waiting for you. Don’t even bother.

Brasileiro didn’t hope for anything. Five years ago, he left his hometown. He thought that he was looking to find adventures. Turns out — he was looking to find himself. And now, this Odyssey had brought him onto an island which no one needs, an island, which has the sole purpose of hiding fugitives, who would then prepare codfish…

From the heading

The story of the clubber-programmer, kinesiologist-cyberneticist, and writer-investment banker

— I need to self-determine myself! — our interlocutor started with a banality. Ilya and I experienced a toothache. From the depths of memory rose the shadows of businessmen who had lost their lives in attempts to determine themselves, or rather to put a label on themselves. In the meantime, our vis-a-vis was throwing the names of the great ones on the table:

— Nassim Taleb — this is the second writer after Nikolai Mokhov (Nikolai Mokhov's ego is growing like the bitcoin exchange rate during a hype), John (well, of course, Grinder, co-founder of NLP), Castaneda (no wonder our interlocutor practiced tensegrity)...

And then he told his story. And his story refuted the theories of many respected authors, including those mentioned. I would write this story down with a pen, roll up the paper, and put it in a bottle, go out to sea on a yacht, and throw it into deep waters. But I don't have a yacht, and I don't have a pen, so read the letters electronically...

How to feel the energy?

- I feel on top of the world... I'm so excited! Like I'm in love! I'm in the flow! This is energy, isn't it?

How do you answer this question? I do not even know... Oh, I've just remembered a story about this! A young man made a million, lets say dollars. So he decides to celebrate. He goes out to restaurants and clubs throwing money around like confetti and stuffing cash down girls' underwear. He is in the zone, and he invests the rest of the money in a new business. So he asks in the middle of the party...

The Final Life Purpose

How do you find your purpose? This question torments the poor and the rich alike. And if someone thinks that once they earn millions and billions, they will no longer have to worry about it... I will run as fast as I can, fall, rub my knees (ouch!), and still keep running, just to make sure I'm there on time to disappoint the reader. The question of purpose weighs on anyone-regardless of the bank statement. And if the reader is curious, I'm going to tell a story about a very wealthy man.

How Fair Ladies Rule

“What is power? Who needs it?” a pretty girl asked me. It was a difficult question. Talking to a beautiful woman, you want to say something funny, something light-hearted. You want to tell a joke. But talking about power you’re one step away from seeming boring. Can I avoid this fate? I’m afraid no. I’ll have to write my answer, at the risk of being perceived as dull. Well, what else can I do? Maybe at least She’ll read it..?