Islington, morning

I am fragmented and the world is
fragmented shifted the logic is
disjointed
I am the perfect portrait of this
My language slips my tongue
Globalized I
We
We
We

 

Oh, why didn’t we join the KGB? – A Pitiful Song

To hell with art
to hell with everything
it doesn’t change anything
the kgb always wins
the kgb runs the theatre mill
the kgb has the tv
the publishing house and newspapers
it’s all the kgb
while the artist is rotting
I piss on the art I want to do nothing
it didn’t bring back
any of the land
stolen by the kgb
and I am an underdog
living in the concrete box they have built for me
laughed at
by kgb from the tv screen
while my family is called loonies pitiful losers
by bribe masters kgb
Oh, my pitiful loser family!
still volunteers for the insane cause
philosophically
with shrinking retirement
while the kgb
retired with grace
and still shows itself on tv
and everybody is clapping
(as if they forgot about everything)
while watching their daughters dance
on tv
Oh, why didn’t we join the kgb.

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Oh, why didn’t we join the KGB? – a pitiful song.

To hell with art
to hell with everything
it doesn’t change anything
the kgb always wins
the kgb runs the theatre mill
the kgb has the tv
the publishing house and newspapers
it’s all the kgb
while the artist is rotting
I piss on the art I want to do nothing
it didn’t bring back
any of the stolen land
by the kgb
and I am an underdog
living in the concrete box they have built for me
laughed at
by kgb from the tv screen
while my family is called loonies pitiful losers
by bribe masters kgb
Oh, my pitiful loser family
still volunteers for the insane cause
philosophically
with shrinking retirement
while the kgb
retired with grace
and still shows itself on tv
and everybody is clapping
(as if they forgot about everything)
while watching their daughters dance
on tv
Oh, why didn’t we join the kgb.

Fucking New York. Chapter first and last.

Why my childhood sucked and who stands behind it all – a diary of a stupid girl from the Soviet Block. Investigation.

I was always curious. I didn’t know why there was no toilet paper, although my mother worked in the paper industry so I know from the first hand that there was paper production going on.  At school – there were this great, great writers, everybody knew they were great. Hemingway for example- but now, what I have stupidly discovered – he was a friend of Fidel. Fidel’s friend. Isn’t Fidel a commie? Commie – means the enemy, the worthless bad guy, who makes us suffer – that is why I have no house and this nasty lady with whom we are sharing our big apartment is disconnecting our power and claiming to the biuro, that we don’t live there anymore. Commie – the murderer.  So, Hemingway- the American ( aren’t Americans supposed to be good I am asking?) – was a friend of Fidel. The Cuban guy, if you don’t know. Fuck him then. But wait – there is Robert – Robert Redford- the iconic American good boy making a movie about Che. Well, I’ve seen it before but was too ignorant to know – a movie about Che. Che – the commie, the murderer, the reason of our sufferings.  Fuck them all! And I am not saying it as a compliment.    Anyway – there was just too much confusion in my upbringing. It all made me sick, temporarily. But I am healthy now and ready for fight- ready to think. My vision is clear and I am not easily corrupted. And since I am very insignificant, I can say everything, even something dumb.    There is a lot of gossip everywhere. I need to reset my software, my mind software because it got so crumbled I got sick.    I don’t trust the church either. Or the professors – either from left or right anymore. This one for example; he wants to introduce Zakon in our country. There is something wrong with him and I pity the poor guy.  Recently – I started studying economics. I didn’t know it was important- how could I know? There was no economy in our state of fools.    Although I finished the state university – I feel reluctant to play dumb – and curse – but, well, I have to. Yes, I admit, I am the unsuitable one, the one who talks not on the level and my words are sounding hoarse.    I had a dream that the state university was liquidated. I felt elated. I don’t know why. I always dreaded those professors, so self- important, so inhuman. Before speaking to them – I had to imagine them as little children, but I couldn’t see them that way. See, they couldn’t possibly be children, babies. Impossible. I think they were created in commie laboratories, somewhere in incubators, already adult and ready to kill your soul.    The same thing is with all institutions anyway.    And, I always have a censor in my head. But it’s just a fault of my weak personality. Outside influences are very strong and not to be ignored. So just in case I am against everything- temporarily.

MoMA sickness – continued.

Marina Abramović,

daughter of Tito’s major and commander –

sells love,

unconditional love, to be exact.

First she made me cry,

Next she made me scared,

now I’m sick again,

Excedrin and bed.

What is: humanities major?

To hell with thinking
this thinking is making you a wreck
Europe, literature,
art
degeneration
syphilis
that’s what you learn
pessimism
and the wish for death.

Reality clash

Imagine you could say anything
without the punishment of
authorities
so-called loved ones
so-called friends
a soft freedom
instead of those
gritty white walls surrounding you
Just imagine
what a relief.

How to know your thoughts are not your own.

How to know your thoughts are not your own?

repeating alien sentences
repeating alien sentences
talking like somebody you don’t even know
being convinced by the extroverted prick
buying books which sucks
assimilating alien culture
culturshock
being boring for yourself
feeling like a clown
caring about
popularity

democracy with 15% illiteracy rate
I am becoming a cynic
well I am

That was a digression
but my mind is possessed
please take it with caution
whatever I said

Freedom

There comes a time

when you stop to give a damn.