Navoi Mining and Metallurgical Combine is 65 years old!
The Navoi Mining and Metallurgical Combine ranks 10th in the world in terms of gold production and reserves. NMMC was founded in 1958. During the 65th year, NMMC has made a huge contribution to the growth and income of the Republic of Uzbekistan, both externally and internally. our enterprise carries out the process of extraction, exploration, processing of underground and surface resources. In particular, the quality of gold castings with a sample of “999, 9”, which has become an Uzbek brand that we produce, deserves special recognition. I am Turakulova Ozoda and I am now 28 years old. I’ve been with NMMC for 10 years now and I’m very proud of it. Congratulations to NMMC on its 65th anniversary. I wish you the first place in the world in gold mining, as well as good luck, big victories.
The world of dreams
At that time, even though I was still young, I still had a small love for books. I still read that book, and I still read this book. But books seemed to me to consist of ordinary pages. Over the years, I realized that books are not just ordinary pages. the book itself is a world, not a manuscript, the book itself is a world. A person reading a book lives two lives at the same time.... Only one life ends when a certain period of time is reached, and the other is absorbed into eternity with memory. while leaving...
Part 1
The door to the land of the book or the beginning of the story
When I was in the fifth grade, I suddenly became interested in fiction. .It has become my biggest dream to read all the books in our school's library and achieve many achievements. I started my work by reading the books in the children's literature section of the library. I was captivated by the works of the famous writer Khudoyberdi Tokhtabayev.
It was at this time that my studies were over and vacation was about to begin. I rushed home. I didn't know why, but I was in a great mood that day. After eating, I started looking through the books I got from the library. First, I looked at Jack London's White Fang, and then Pakhmaq, Avazkhan, and so on. My eyes fell on a book with a white cover and no name written on it. After all, I had never bought such a book. I was surprised. As soon as I opened the book, a light shone from it. but it was empty.
Not many days later, about a week later, I took my books and necessary things and went to my grandmother's village. Because my grandmother spends her annual summer vacation I thought about a book with a white cover. The next morning, when I entered my grandmother's yard, this dream did not leave me. I rushed to the cave. This cave is so ancient that the locals called it the Cave of Life.
Near the cave, a crystal-clear spring gushes out. The ground is covered with green grass. The mountain and the rest of them were connected to the rocky hills, so it was difficult to find such a royal and peaceful place to read a book. With my light, some rays of light flashed blindingly, and I suddenly appeared in a completely different world.
Rashidova Shahrizoda Zarshidovna was born in 2010 in the Karakol district of the Bukhara region. Currently, she is a 7th-grade student of the 20th school in the district. In my tune and in my tune
Motherland, We bow to those who know you, "I will do everything", Rainbow stars, Bilimdon 2018, Zakovat, etc.
She is the first prize winner in competitions. Her creative writings were published in German and British publications such as Just fist edition, lulu, Rashidova Shahrizoda Zarshidovna's work was covered in Ezgulik newspaper. Her stories are on the Wikipedia open encyclopedia and published in a number of anthologies, including Towards My Goals, New Uzbekistan creative collections.
She's also the author of the book The lion called the first flight of the artist.
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to try harder
i usually have to be
pretty fucking close
to drunk off my ass
to try to talk to any
beautiful woman
i don't know
i remember a night
in a club back in
my twenties where
i approached this
gorgeous black
woman and said
some gibberish
she laughed and
told me to try
harder
i laughed and said
something stupid
enough to make
her smile and tell
me to go get her
a drink
when i came back
she was making out
with some other guy
apparently, i wasn't
drunk enough for the
beer muscles to kick
in
but i did enjoy her
amaretto sour
-----------------------------------------------------------------
the locusts
happiness is
one of those
rare events
anymore
i treat it like
a comet or
the locusts
it's not what
i want in my
life, but i
suppose it's
just the way
it is
they say
money can't
buy happiness
well guess
what
neither can
being poor
----------------------------------------------
in cowboy boots
drove past a woman
mowing her grass
in cowboy boots
i smiled
got home to find
my grass being
cut by the cousin
that molested me
as a child
i don't think
you'd call this
a smile
--------------------------------------------------------
the lines of pain
trace
the
lines
of pain
on this
broken
face
the
sweet
caress
of your
bloody
fingers
may
it be
the
last
thing
i
remember
--------------------------------------------------
looking for trouble
it's been years since
i went out drinking
looking for trouble
the last time that
happened i was
taking a girl to
go buy crack at
seven in the
morning
after a long night
of drinking and
fucking around
in some strip
clubs
looking back
i probably should
have had her buy
some for me
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know better. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Rye Whiskey Review and The Asylum Floor. He has a new book out with Casey Renee Kiser from RaVenGhost Press, Altered States of The Unflinching Souls. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
August
Teal blue of my fairy strands
The murderous blues
The hauntings of sun dried cuts
Kill your belongings
It's August
They said
But I'm still
Hooking my drunken soul
My red wined Coolings
Can't
Your own dealing
Homicides across globe
My spirits a childish grimace
Enjoy your youth
Sip be merry
A good natured wife
Milk of human kindness
Halted on
London bridges
Cycling through ages
Your white coloured tie
Pattern of your very being
Still my child's sweater
Warm sipping
A home cooked meal
But
The city's on fire
A Phoenix Soul
Soon a torpedo glory
Sky high nebulas
I screamed through
Be drunken white
Your own patterns
Still it's August
They said
And My.
Entreaties from the Pinnacles of Despair
Know yourself before knowing others
Believe in yourself before you trust blindly
Judge yourself better than judging blood,
and bones of a smiling on friendly faces.
Don’t carry your past sins into your sober life
Get some sleep before the liquor drink you
Get some rest before the cigarette inhale you
Cry and let your tears drown the knife by your flesh.
You can only change the world with your knowledge
Be the leader of your dreams and open arm’s happiness
Change the directions of death, anxiety, and depression
Remember you are miserable because your coffin has fallen
_into the hands of people you once adopted and adored
They farewell the world in silence with only the presence of
death. Meanwhile, you try to call them, text them and ask
your parents if they heard anything about them from trip to exile.
