M
I wish I was a murderer
they are very cool
what can I do what can I do
I wish I could slaughter and be applauded by friends
but I am weak and faint
There is nothing I can do about my constitution
I also don’t agree with prostitution
I need to go to the hills
wearing my high heels
With all those terribly boring people
who don’t kill
That’s the end of my stupid song
I’m going to become friends
with a Christian monk
A gargantuan hole in my head
the truth is:
dark is my hair
the truth is:
human I am
the truth is:
I live on earth
the truth is:
no much else
the else is a hallucination
a daydream
a lie
king-size, bulky, mountainous messcommunication
a truth without the spell check
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
I am afraid I will die and go into the dark
holes holes holes
I am disintegrating
into holes
I need to patch myself up
my mind is in the black night house
my eyes are useless and blind
I see only darkness when I close my eyes
Those ones who are going to die unfulfilled
covered in scratchy mean sand
with their minds full of headaches and hate
wishing everyday to escape this prison and pain
those ones who can’t be alive
who toll the life like a duty point of honor to survive
full of hostility in the sea of enemies
wishing to leave their families
once forever
take a train and cross the great wall
instead of sitting at the computer
and collect the bills of misery
the rightful slaves of society
a quiet scream into the darkness
in their tiny apartments at night
what fog is chasing me what fear
I am stepping down I see those broken lines
it looks I am somebody else
a foreign shadow of lost days
well, I am not bad, but I feel wrong
it is my mind it tortures me
it never ends, it’s dark again
there is no way
I could describe
the lonely bathroom
I sit at night
Oh, I am curious If they will think I am not sexy that I am here, sitting alone and writing. I don’t know. See – there is a conflict in me, a wall, a catch 22- a paradox which makes me paralyzed. When I am sexy – they think I am a porn star, or, at least, they think I should be one, or they offer me all this sexual proposals, they chase me, and talk to me without respect – and then I want to tell them to stop treating me like that – to tell them that I have a degree, that I am an intellectual, that they should not touch my ass and so on – but when they don’t do that- I think they find me ugly, or standoffish. Or what if they think that I am a nerd! Oh, come on, people, how old are you! Why are you being so immature! This is crazy – this people- well, this one for example – he is 28 and talking about nerds like we are in an elementary school! Oh, give me a break!
I always have really stupid lovers. But very interesting. This cocaine user for example. Who said that addicts are extremely interesting? I don’t remember, but I agree with it completely. They are fascinating. I fall in love with them at instant. This one was particularly perfect. Crazy ex-addict, absolutely perverted.
| Information overload. Dying of it. So many projects. Everybody asking for money to fund their useless projects- projects created out of boredom- projects with no content, or content – nobody cares about, narcissistic orgy – what’s the point in creating new art? New entertainment? It’s everywhere. I am so sick of it. Everybody is an artist, out of boredom, really. What is worth doing anymore? Stuck in the city. No exited enough to do anything anymore. Books. Books. Books. Pictures. Photos. Opinions. Everybody got one. Total isolation. What’s the point of all this? There was a woman yesterday, sitting on a bench in Central Park with 5 dogs , talking on the phone: She said: what’s the difference if I will live 1 or 2 years longer, who cares? Exactly?? What’s the difference? Where is it all going? I know it’s no funny or uplifting, for that I am sorry. But there is too much garbage and I am thinking about moving into the woods;) |
Oh, the collapse of civilization, oh, complete isolation!
I change my mind every five minutes, no, every 5 seconds, depending on what I see on Facebook. Facebook-book-god- I can not even finish reading a book! Oh, excess of information! I am lost! I would like to live in a cave, with one book arriving a week-instead of this-Amazon is bringing me tones of books, new book chases another and I am looking at them, jumping on them with the hope of finding the solution. What solution? Is what some ignorant bastard can ask – solution to my life, the answer! The Big answer! Answer! And next the jump on the internet-it gives me a little piece of mind for a while-but-my attention suddenly gets so distracted, I am so distracted-and a thought kills a thought-here is a thoughts war! And my mind is a battle! Maybe i should stop writing-yes, I should go to buy new paint-canvas-colors, produce colors, colors I need and I need it right now! Or, maybe I am hungry, hungry, – but I will not be cooking! That is too common-and should I write!? Will they think I am ugly, or a nerd or something? Oh, I hate those stupid Hamericans-why are they so immature??
Should I go somewhere? Is there an important meeting, social mambo-jumbo I should attend? Or maybe I have an appointment with my psychiatrist? Oh, and if I won’t go, he will chase me, call me, he needs his money, he pays his mortgage of my insanity! Mortgage-oh, those people are so boring-who needs a house? I never had one, who cares about bullshit like that? Oh, horrible middle class-there is nothing worse, I am telling you, there is nothing worse than them … the walls without art … or art bought at Ikea factory or Moma art – you know, I cannot go to Moma anymore, I’ve been there an I got nauseus – now, every time they send me a letter – ( they chase me, every institution in this country is chasing me and my money) I want to puke. I need to tell it to my doctor, but i hate doctors. And I don’t need those bastards anymore.
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