Beyond the Neon Masks

Perfect Life: User Manual

Do you know what a perfect life is? It's when everything goes exactly according to a script written by someone else. Like trains on tracks laid by social expectations, we roll towards "happiness" without even wondering if this is truly our path.

It all starts, of course, with a diploma - that sacred talisman of modern society. After spending years obtaining it, you proudly hang it on the wall, where it transforms into a perfect coaster for your coffee cup. What else can you do with it? After all, the next item on the program is work. That "prestigious" position for which you take out a car loan, just to sit in traffic jams every morning on your way to the office. A perfect vicious circle, isn't it?

And when your career no longer warms your soul (did it ever?), it's time for the next program item - marriage. Here begins a true theater of the absurd. The main character - a typical middle-class representative. Dark-haired, average height, with an invariable dark-colored sedan (heaven forbid - steel!). Lives in a typical two-room apartment, regularly visits mom, everything as prescribed.

Dates follow society's approved script: trendy cafes with pretensions to originality - Shokoladnitsa, Parizh, Etazh, Friday's - what's the difference? Two bouquets (no more, no less), mandatory countryside trip with friends. After a liter of wine, he seems almost attractive, and his friends - almost interesting. Even his overprotective mother doesn't seem so intrusive anymore.

Then comes mechanical sex - as if following instructions from a women's magazine. Press here, stroke there, kiss here - done! Ten minutes of shame, and then come the apologies: "You understand, I haven't been with a woman for a long time..." And you believe it. Of course, you believe!

After all, he's so caring - he even pets your cat, although he can't stand animals. Calls in the evening, asks how you got home. And you're already imagining love - as artificial as a romantic comedy plot.

Moving in with him becomes the next logical step. "Mom, we're getting married!" - and there you are, scrubbing his bachelor den, exterminating cockroaches, taking vacation for general cleaning. And at night you lie under him, mentally composing tomorrow's to-do list and evaluating the quality of bathroom cleaning. The romance of everyday life in all its glory!

Two years of living together, and there it is - the long-awaited proposal. Not on one knee in a restaurant, but in the living room, between watching a series and dinner. "Well, I'm pretty cool, right?" And you nod, because that's what you're supposed to do.

Honeymoon in Thailand (where else?), tasteless photo session on the beach, cheap souvenirs. Then career growth (for both), unplanned pregnancy somewhere between choosing a sofa and dining table at IKEA. Ultrasounds, baby talk, morning sickness, arguments, reconciliations - all on schedule.

A son is born (of course, a son!), and the husband proudly announces his fatherhood to everyone, after which he conveniently disappears at work because "can't get enough sleep at home." And you transform into a permanent nanny, housekeeper, and cook all in one.

Birthday comes - and instead of gold earrings, you get a frying pan. Welcome to station "Daily Routine"! The final stop of romance. Friends disappear from your life, a pet turtle appears along with a scrapbooking hobby - the last attempt to add color to gray days.

And one day you find a cheap condom wrapper in his work pants. Not the brand you use. And you silently throw away the evidence - after all, the main thing is that you're still together, right?

There it is - the perfect life by social standards. Where every step is predetermined, every decision dictated not by heart but by social expectations. And the scariest part - we choose this path ourselves, afraid to turn off the beaten track into the unknown, where, perhaps, real happiness is hiding.