Satire, Thoughts, Uncategorized

My guru is a pyramid lover! Now, I want to die.

Few days ago I needed some motivation, so I went to look for it on YouTube, of course. There is always somebody wise to tell me what to do. And there he was, he, my new hero – Jim Roth – I was mesmerized, totally under his influence, totally and absolutely mesmerized. He was my  guru – for four hours, I BELIEVED in him! He had saved my useless life! What a man! Man of integrity! I even bought one book he recommended, then I’ve read it from cover to cover on a springish field in Central Park, under a beautiful pink tree. It was heaven. The birds were chirping and I was conquering the world sitting on my green – black blanket. I got home to get some more of this gold nectar from his lips when I accidentally goggled him a little more closely.  What I’ve read shattered me to the last fiber of my doomed soul, then I have lost my last faith in humanity, – I couldn’t believe my mind – he, my new found god and herbalife? My god – HERBALIFE!  Isn’t this that spam scheme I used to laugh at with my family when I was 12! This is his secret success story! No, it can’t be true! He is a great man! But yes, it was it. So, he was my guru. After that, I have lost the sickish need to be successful once for all. Thank you very much.

Dark moods


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;)

Screw the notion of being an artist!

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.