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.
Tag Archives: Moma
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.
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