---------------------------------------------------------------
© Copyright
Email: omalakhov@acceur.com
Date: 18 Jul 2003
---------------------------------------------------------------
, , .
, - ,
.
, ,
, ,
"".
, , -
.
Loveful-loveless
,
, , ,
, , -
, , , ,
, ,
, . . .
, ,
, ,
, ,
, . ,
.
, : ,
, ,
, , ,
, .
. , ,
.
. ,
, . ,
, ,
, , , -- ...
. ,
, .
-- . - .
,
, ,
.
, , ,
,
,
, , , ,
, .
, ,
. , .
,
,
.
.
, , .
.
--
. , --
, . ,
,
,
.
,
.
, , ,
.
. .
, , ,
.
..
, ,
, .
, .
***
,
, ,
, ,
, ,
,
,
, : , ,
,
, , .
,
, .
,
,
, , ,
. , ,
,
;
, ,
, . ,
,
, , ,
.
, ,
.
.
,
,
, , ,
. , ,
, ,
,
.
--
.
, , . ,
, , , .
, ,
, . ,
,
.
,
, ,
,
, ,
, .
, ,
.
, , , ,
. " , ". ,
. , ,
.
, . ,
. .
, ,
. . ,
.
, ... ,
? ?
.
.. . . . .
. .
.... -.
.
. . ,
. . . ? .
"Je t'aime" . .
. . .
. . , . .
. . . ,
. .
,
, , , , .
. .
.
, ,
. .
, ,
, . ,
, ,
, ,
, .
.
, .
- , , :
? -- , ,
. , . .
, , ,
, , ,
, . . , .
,
, . , . .
. , . ,
, ,
, ,
, .
. , ,
. , .
. . , .
, ,
, , , ,
, , ,
. . .
. . . .
. . .
. ,
. .
, , . ,
. .
. , , , , ,
, . -
, - .
. , ,
. ,
, . , ,
. ,
, , , .
,
, .
, , .
You're fashion. The sentiment of latter Devonian void of time covering
my eyes with pure grace. I feel your gasoline in veins burning of being
helpless, do greatest testimony, minor mine ... my infection.
,
. , ,
- . ,
, , ,
. .
, , , . .
. , ,
. , ,
- . ,
. . ,
, . .
, . ,
. . Detruding
hormones from inside they used to imagine stories of unknown smiles and very
polite coworkers had in mind they were more than friends. Losing patience
Pier got older and Agnes smoked too much in rooms unventilated. I dreamt how
I unveiled their secret infatuations.
I'd love to masturbate seeing Agnes and Pier together, how they speak
to each other cherishing. No. Suddenly I make rather wrong supposition.
Relieve me. Give me life.
( , .
. ,
. , ,
, , , .) ...
, ,
.
-, ,
, . . ,
.
. , , - .
,
,
, ,
, ,
. , , , ,
, , ,
.
,
, .
, ,
, . ,
, .
, , ,
, ,
, , . ,
, ,
, . ,
, , , .
, .
, . ;
, , ,
, -. ,
, , , .
, ,
,
,
,
,
. ,
, ,
, , ,
. , ,
, , .
, ,
.
Tower. . ,
,
. ,
, , ,
. -- ,
. . ,
, ,
, , ,
, ,
. .
, , .
, , ,
. , ,
, , , ,
.
VIP-. ,
.
.
. -- .
. , . inanity.
....
......
...
..
, ,
,
. , .
, ,
.
, , , ,
, ,
,
, . ,
, ,
. ,
, .
, ,
.
.
,
, .
,
.
, : ,
, .
, , ,
,
, ,
, ,
, .
, ,
, . ,
, " ",
, .
, , ,
, ,
. .
, ,
. ,
, , ,
. - , ,
-, ,
() .
, . .
, ,
, - .
Come to my sweet melody. , .
, ,
.
She desired to hurt somebody with a whisper, I heard it all the time
wherever she walked and whenever she broke any silent moment.
, ,
. Though he believed in Anstie's test. And friends had been
laughing at his worries. Playing tricks and trying to invent some stupid
fearful story of green wine victims. Difficult to remember his hands and
genius fingers.
,
. , .
, .
,
, .
. I got in love being disposed in
space ... testless. Rays of X penetrated my body, my eyes like Ghetto riots.
Best friends of them are reckless in making acquaintances with Ray, it was
our punishment. We only remember his gloves. Bloody in galore. Oh!! Does we
all. And you are all overall loveralls. Wind! Punch me once with a blow.
Steal my disharmonic gaze in the scissors of moonlight. I'll be lying in
your hands in your bed being fed with stories of your sorrowful wanderings
and strange enlevements of wanted gorgeous ladies. And their flavours.
You'll cover me inside. But what happens with my bodies... No Indian wisdom
is here to spread an explanation. And did I lose her or starting to lose.
Her name is Clementine. Or she is crashed and blasted with unpredictable
storms coming from islands with no shore. And nameless gone. Forgetting who
it is. Making sense of nonsense. ,
. . .
.
, . ,
.
. ,
. ,
.
, , ,
.
.
,
. ,
; .
, ,
- ,
. Lost in inanity of forgettable silence
when no one's supposed to feel sense. Inside of groups of lost forever in
again and again. Unreal and wild with strange wine making eyes insane.
Pretty masculine-feminine inanity was the first lecture delivered by Maria's
husband. , -- ,
.
-- , , ,
. ,
, , ,
, ,
,
; . They seemed to
be preoccupied. I left the room. ,
, ,
, .
, ,
. What's the problem..... Density of
destiny in gracious living was all what I wished to recreate. Though
helplessly in arms of Agnes / in gladly looking insinuations of Clementine
walking through my summer-time to be OK I appear. Greetings during happy
hours and feeling happy. And dear, do not judge a book by its cover. So
sorry, baby, leaving you down on the front views of the unique stairways and
do love you. When signs are upper in space of Woodstock festivals we send
our hands to our eyes and falling into ants' being under the sunniest sounds
and no memory shall show how it was and we'll see nothing (even dreaming).
. . Ocean dry. Ocean waits. In mists. Lowering snow.
Ocean tries. Insomniacs are leaning to waves. Water cycles.
. . , .
. . . ,
. .......
.
, ,
, ,
. . ..
. .
. . , .
. ,
, .
. -- .
, ,
,
.
. , ,
.
Crave for me. I'm happy! Forget me. I'm gloomy. Like in a child saying.
Like playing your kid with passionate desire to sleep in your ionic bed.
Blissful. The lazy moon is blowing me away. ,
,
, ,
, .
, , .
.
, ,
. . .
, ,
,
-.
... , .
, ,
,
, , .
. .
I declared my name for everyone in the clinic. The PhD freaks started
to touch my fresh hair. And smelt my breath. Memories of their students
found reflection in my gazing through hallways and kea corridors with secret
cabinets where no one could stop my DNA arrest.
, ,
, .
- .
. , ,
,
.
,
. ,
.
. .
. . , ,
,
,
. ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
, , . ,
", ", ,
, ;
. . .
, . -
,
- ,
.
.
. .
. . .
. ,
,
. ,
,
. -- .
.
-- , , , , . ,
. . , , .. .
-- .
-- .
-- , .
. ,
. ,
, ,
.
.
. IV
, .
,
, -,
, ,
, , ,
,
. ,
, ,
, .
, ,
, ,
.
, , ,
. , , ,
, ,
, ,
, .
. ,
, .
. . ,
, .
, ,
, ,
, , ,
-, -,
; , , ,
, , ,
,
. , ,
- . , .
. ,
, ,
.
, - -
. - .
. ,
. .
, , ,
- . ,
,
,
, ,
, ,
, .
, ,
. , , ?
, .
, ,
, - .
, ,
,
, ,
, .
, , .
.
, ,
. .......
: - ,
, , , ,
,
, ,
. , ,
.
- ,
, ,
,
.
,
. .
,
XIV XV. ,
, ,
. , ,
, .
, , ,
, . , ,
. . .
. -- . .
, , -
. .
, ,
, , ,
, ,
. , , ,
. , , , ,
,
, ,
.
, , ,
, , , , , ,
, -, , ,
, , , ,
. ,
, , .
, ,
, , ,
, ,
, ,
,
. ,
, - , ,
, , ,
. , -
, ,
, ,
, ,
- ,
, ,
, .
, ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
.
.
, , ,
, , ,
, .
,
, ,
()
,
.
,
, ,
. , .
,
,
,
.
.
, .
, , ,
.
,
. ,
, , ,
.
. And no obsessions could chase us.
, ,
, , .
, , , ,
,
, . ,
, -- . , ,
. Universes on the floor of television
shows start beginning securing our love flow. Despite confusions and
embarrassment while kissing for the first time I regulated my daggering into
Kim's complexes and my own acnephobia. We simply could not say simple words
and play common games. Each and every our chance to get enfolded by each
other made us believe it was more than love and we used to lose the feeling
of being together once and again just looking for something unattainable in
borderless space of our dreams. .
Slowdive
. ,
, ,
, .
,
.
, .
. ,
, ,
. , . , ,
, .
. ,
.
, .
, ,
.
,
-
, , , ,
.
, ,
. .
, ,
. ,
? ,
. . .
.
, ,
. , .
. ,
, ,
, .
, , , ,
, , , ,
,
. ,
, ,
, ,
. . .
.
. , , ,
, .
,
,
,
,
.
,
. ,
, ,
, ,
-.
.
"magnificent" . ,
, ,
, .
.
-- . .
- .
-- .
.
.
,
. ,
, ,
, ,
, .
, ,
,
, , .
-- , ,
, , , ,
,
, , ,
, . .
, ,
.
. :
-- , -?
-- . ,
. , ,
, ,
,
. ,
, .
, ,
, .
, .
,
, .
. . "",
. ,
, ; ,
, , --
.
, , ,
.
. "". . ,
. "
", -- .
" , , , ."
I received your portrait from space. No one seemed to be unknown to me by
that time. Really evoking eyes to remind me your face I got drowned in ocean
rebellion. .
, ,
, . ,
, , ,
. "Sunny girl" was the utmost primary Eugene's
thought. Maria started decoding his brightless and distorted breath. She
thought at once she wasted few lives being Pablo's servant.
, ,
, ,
.
: " , ,
, .
, ,
,
, ,
......... , ,
, , . ,
....." ! . ,
. ,
,
. , , ,
, ,
, . ,
.
, . , .
, .
, . . Mary, stay with me. Did I say
it? I am too old to masturbate alone.
( , , -
, , . .)
,
. ,
, , ,
.
, .
, ,
,
. .
. .
, : , ?
, , , , .
.
,
. ,
. ,
, .
,
.
, ,
, ,
,
, .
.
, .
, ,
, , , .
,
.
, - .
. , , ,
.
, , .
, .
. ,
,
.
. . I'd love to have
energetic sex with a seductive shepherdess.
, , ,
. , , -
,
, , , , ,
. , , ,
.
. , , ,
, ,
.
-- ..
-- .
-- , .
-- , , ,
.
. ,
,
, ,
. .
, . .
,
. - ,
,
,
. , ,
.
, , ,
,
, , ,
,
. ,
, .
. , .
, ,
.
, ,
, ,
.
, . .
.
.
. , ,
.
Restrictive state policy overwhelmed our love story. It was always hard
to find any explanation for authorities' actions. At tea o'clock at my place
just seeing each other hugging each other tightly with devotion and talking
of space worlds forgetting scorned races outside we meet. Eating chocolate
listening to MBV. Stopping thinking of cruel militiamen. Stop inanity. Just
for a second giving a chance to yourself to feel the most comprehensive
growth of love inside spreading and bursting out.
, , , ,
, , , trying to recognise eyes,
, ,
, .
, , ,
. , ,
, , -
, ,
,
, .
,
, , .
-.
. ,
. ,
, , , ,
,
, , ,
, .
, , .
. .
, .
, ,
, .
.
All You Need Is Love.
... ,
,
,
, .
.
.
, ,
, ,
, , ,
, .
-- , -- , -- ....
-- , -- ,
. ,
, , .
.
, , .
. ,
, , .
, , -- .
-- - ? -- , .
. . .
. .
- , - ,
, .
.
.
.
-- !!!!!!!
I found out Clementine was in Lviv. She stayed their with AEGEE
delegation from Spain. In the evenings she got drunk with Miha and had
been dancing with Olav. She started to grow inside as she perceived all the
abnormality of her past and wasting time. Traveling to Kiev she ran off few
relapse moods and drifted through exciting acquaintances. I saw her weather
skin and sparkling eyes. Grasping her hands' waves I wished her face touched
mine and her breath got mixed with my inspiration. Wished to cry, to reach
her ears with I see you. Soon she was hidden in the dawn mists.
. ,
, , ,
, .
,
. .
,
, , .
- , -
, . .
, , ,
, ? .
IV. ,
, , ,
. . .
.
. .
. ,
. .
. ,
, ", ".
- ,
- ,
. ,
, :
Art was invisible, the planets got unseen. After the smashes of two
universes nothing resembled pure idea of a definite dignity. They had been
eating their gypsy food and drinking their gypsy wine.
The girls around started to feel excited as they could dance on the
tables and show to visitors their almost naked bodies, legs and asses,
almost naked breasts. Some guys did cry in the hall and evoked barmen and
got drunker more and more. The stories told in the nights reflected their
most hidden and unknown desires where they had been taught to leave
everything behind and they did. The place looked so as if it was burnt and
destroyed completely by a child who wished to stay pure. There everyone who
remembered the name of Clementine decided to meet in the alley of grey
cactuses. Poor relative also planned to be there. Though he just had such a
joke. He used to wear glasses and be acquainted with all those who pretended
to be elite artists. However he had never been bisexual. He only laughed at
everybody who had lovers of different sex. He had no real sex in life as he
had a wrong wife or had no wife. It is amazing how lifeless they are!!!!!!!
EVERYBODY
EVERYONE
ALL OF THEM
WHERE SHOULD WE KILL THEM?
WHEN?
Clementine's son got astonished reading all that. He started
stuttering. Clementine got upset. But what could she do? Her son had to
become a brilliant painter. Reading that old note-book Painter got freaked
off in the class-rooms and his comrades' companies. He wanted to reanimate
that incredible language he sank in. He continued reading:
, .
, .
. , .
, . .
, ,
. ,
. .
, .
,
, .
, , ,
, , ,
, , ,
, ,
, , , .
, , ,
, ,
.
.
,
.
.
.
, .
, ,
, , .
.
,
- , , ,
. ,
,
, .
, ,
, , ,
. ,
, , ,
. ,
, ,
. ,
-, . Having found the edge he wished so much to stay
at least for some indefinite time there being nowhere feeling being nowhere,
though finally he realised how painful it was to be still in and be needed
to someone as well as needing someone. Relieve me. Give me life. He knew
everything had to be fine in Acapulco but definitely he was exhausted by the
time of awakening. He always remembered that visions.
Sunday morning he had always to get concentrated. ,
. .
. .
. ,
.
, ,
, . ,
,
, ,
. ,
,
. ,
, , ,
. . ,
,
, ()
,
.
, ,
,
,
. .
:
,
.
;
, , ,
,
, , ,
. ,
, ,
, , ,
, ,
, . ?
,
, ,
, .
, ,
, . ,
, ,
, ,
. ,
; ;
, -,
,
, .
, ,
, . ,
. ,
, ,
, .
. , ,
.
. ,
, ,
, , .
-- , , , -,
.
.
, , ,
,
. .
.
-- , ... -- , --
?
, .
, , , .
. :
-- , .
, .
, ,
.
, ,
.
, ,
, ,
, ,
, .
, ,
, , , ,
. .
.
.
-- . ,
.
. ,
, .
, .
.
, . .
,
, .
. . .
. , .
, ,
, . .
.
. . ,
. , . .
.
, ,
, .
, .
.
, ,
,
, . ,
.
, .
.
. ,
, ',
,
. ,
.
.
.
,
, ,
,
, , ,
,
? No tears in his eyes. The Painter would definitely try to teach him
how to cry with passion letting drops directly falling into somebody's palms
smelling oceans and colourful tropics.
:
-- - . .
, . ,
. , , .
, .
. ,
. ,
. , ,
,
.
.
, , -,
,
. , ,
, ,
, .
, .
, , .
,
. ,
, , ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
. ,
. , ,
, -.
, .
, ,
. ,
, ,
, :
, , -
, .
;
. .
, ,
,
-
. ,
. , .
.
,
. -
.
,
, , .
, , ,
, ,
, , ,
,
. , , , ,
,
, . ,
, .
. ,
. ,
. ,
,
. , , .
, . .
. , ,
,
, , .
, , ,
, , ,
. , ,
, ,
, .
, , . , ,
, ,
, ,
, .
, . .
. , ,
. , ? ,
?
, .
.
.
, . ,
. , ,
, ,
,
.
, , ,
. ,
,
. ,
. .
. , ,
. ,
, , ,
, .
:
-- !!????
-- ...... , ! ,
, , ,
, , ,
, ,
, ;
,
, .
(*_*) ...... ,
, . , , .
. ,
, , ;
.
, , ,
, . .
, ,
.
,
-, , ,
-
, . ,
,
, , ,
, ,
, . ,
, , , .
,
, , , .
. , , ,
, ,
, ,
,
, ,
, ,
,
, , ,
, , .
,
, ,
, .
,
, , , ,
, - , , ,
. , ,
, ,
, . ,
. ,
, , .
, .
, , ,
. ,
, ,
, ,
, , , ,
. - -
. , ,
, . ,
. ,
,
, , , .
, ,
, .
, ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
; , ,
. ,
, ,
, , - ,
, , , , .
, ,
, , ,
.
, , ,
, , ,
, ,
; ,
, . , ,
, , , , ,
- , .
, . . ,
, ,
- (
- ). ,
, ,
. ,
, , .
, . ,
, ,
. ,
, , ,
. .
. . ,
. . .
. . .
.
.
-- , , , , --
. -- , .
-- ! - ! -- . -- , .
-- , ....
, -- ,
, , , ,
, .
, , ,
, .
.
-- , , -- , -- ,
!
-- !!....
,
. , ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
, , .
, , ,
,
, ......
,
. Hey, hey, tell me what you want... and I will change my
flaming eyes coming back into your cherishing body's grace backing you
spending rarest delicious phrases. They couldn't stop....
, ,
,
. , , ,
, , , .
.
, .
. -.
,
.
, , , :
, .
, ,
,
, ,
, ,
, . , ,
,
. ,
, , ,
,
,
. ,
. , ,
, . No power...no sinking in....no
beauty being real....no sensors... floating over and around.......behind the
screams and penetrating waves of glorified images of stars lighting
through.....combining shadows with miscellaneous tints and
flavours....spilling magic...
:
.
, , . ,
, , ,
, ,
, , , ,
, . ,
, ,
. , , ,
, , ,
, . ,
,
- , .
, , .
. -- , -- . --
. .
------ ----- ,
, .
, , ,
. .
, , , . .
, ,
, , ,
. , . ?
???? . . ---.
.
. ,
, .
...... .
. ,
, , , ,
.
, , , ,
, ,
, , ,
,
. - .
- . , .
,
. - ,
, ,
, . ,
, , ,
, , ,
. , ,
. . --
, -- . -- ,
,
. - , - ,
, ,
-. ,
, , , ,
, ,
. .... ......
...... ,
. ...... ......
. .
Malawi Coffee Co.
- .
. . ,
,
. .
, ,
, ,
, , . -
. .
. ,
, , ,
, , , .
, . - -.
. .. ,
. ,
.. She started laughing wildly. No one could any way hear her heart
tearing sounds. Noise resistant containers saved her from being found. But
she had no fear nevertheless. The ship had sailed away. Would they throw her
into the sea? - , :
, . ,
, . .
, .
,
. .
, , ,
, , .
, .
, ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
, .
. ,
. .
. .
, -
. . .
. ,
. , ,
.
, ,
, .
, , ,
. . ,
. ,
, (
, , , ,
, ). ,
, , . ,
, : " ,
...." .
, , , ,
. . ,
. ,
. , .
...................................................................................................("_")
. .
. , .
. .
. . .
- . , ,
. ,
.
,
,
, .
,
, .
....
. , -
: ,
. ,
- . , ,
-. . .
.
. ()
. , ,
. .
, , .
. .
. . , .
- , .
. .
, ,
, - ,
, ,
. "" "",
.. .
.
.... ...
...-... , , , ,
. She stood up and tried to find the most lighted
place. The rays were rare. The rats periodically gathered in crowds and did
not try to examine Inga's body, and must have started disappearing. Sailing
for few days Inga saw rats rather exceptionally for seconds, now they formed
up groups squeaking and swirling around. ,
, , .
, , .
, , ,
. , ,
. ,
, ,
. .
. .
.
. ,
, , ,
, :
, ,
. . .
, , ,
, ?.. ,
, .
, ,
. ,
,
, , .
.......
.... . .
, , .
, .
, ,
. ?
. , ,
.
, , .......
. .
, . . .
. . ,
. !!!???????
. ,
.
, , ,
, ...... ...
...
,
, . ,
.
, ,
, .
Edge searcher.
. ,
, ,
, .
,
? ,
. , .
, ,
, - ,
, , ,
, ,
.
. Everyone was good enough for few
hours of wild sex... Marking territories she used to travel around the world
making just occasional stops for masturbation.
. - ,
. ,
, ,
, , , ,
, .
, ,
, , .
She made all dicks cum.
. --
. . .
. ,
. ,
, ,
,
. , .
. .
, ,
, ,
, , ,
, ,
.
I was a little school-girl living in romantic love sickness seeing
senior popular boys, talking to girl-friends discussing dates. I never could
think of meeting the one I met one day when the summer holidays were over
and I became a high-school-girl. It was in the internet club I used to hang
over in for hours writing letters to my boy-friend from Lithuania. I was a
little bit tired and had no money to stay on-line longer. At the very moment
I wanted to stand up he was standing hanging over me and asked me whether my
work was over and I was leaving the place. He repeated it once again as I
was not quite sure if I heard his words right and he noticed that. I saw a
face of that man I thought once in my life before and it seemed as I felt as
if it was quite common for me to see his eyes and answer his simple
questions. I told I was just going to leave and proposed him to take my
place. He behaved so as if he knew me for years and his manners were easy
and natural. I got slightly afraid of his attitude toward me. Nevertheless I
did not even think of stopping that unexpected acquaintance. There was some
oddity covering his personality and giving charm to any gesture and phrase.
Though at the same time its irregularity and rareness could frighten and I
really felt confused time after time. But could not stop letting him
swallowing me. We stayed in a caf for an hour. When I took a cigarette and
lit it he looked at me with a tiny smile of a slight irony. Generally he was
not happy with my smoking. He ordered a strawberry shake but later suggested
to drop in at the bar nearby to drink some posh beer as he said assuring
there was no better beer in the whole city. That offer and the way how he
made it were those essential details contributing to his mystique. Later on
very occasionally he could lose that mysterious way of behaviour and turn
into helpless and lost infant but I think the cause of those transformations
lied in the deepest essence of his being I could hardly decode. I remember
how he looked at me saying nothing. I got embarrassed and asked him to stop
looking at me that way but he just smiled and could tell me he just liked my
eyes and it was a great pleasure to see me confused. I got uptight but
realised that the man who was looking at me saying such things few minutes
ago was unknown to me and I still knew nothing of him to feel offended. I
even didn't know his name by the time he involved me in his own web.
. . .
. .
. -
, . .
. .
. , ,
,
. , ,
, ,
-, , .
, .
. , , ,
, ,
.
,
. ,
.
, ,
, , ,
, , ,
, ,
.
, , , ,
.
.
.
, , -- . , .
. . (
).
, .
. . . .
. ,
. ,
. ,
, .
Systematically drinking beer that came from distant country (where he
spent few years accumulating a great spectrum of information living like a
spectre with queer people staying alone) I heard a lot of his unbelievable
stories but probably the most important things had not been told. I felt it
all the time. He loved the country he left but he left it for a better lot.
Such paradoxes filled up his life and made it more controversial and
entrancing. I painfully realised how I got dependent on that communication
and how hopeless it was to wait when such a person might show stable
feelings and a real infatuation. I always tried to let along the thoughts of
inevitability to get separated one day. But sometimes I wished so much to
leave everything behind, to forget him, to stay alone and put my mind in
order. All of a sudden order itself lost its sense. I got changed and
moreover I started resembling him. He told me his name. I am not sure if it
was real but I believed him. It was so simple to pronounce.
, , , ,
,
. ,
. , ,
. "
, , ", --
.
. , --
,
. ,
, . ,
, ,
. ,
, , ,
. , ;
, ,
( ), ,
.
, ,
,
, ,
-, ,
,
- , .
,
. ,
, -, ,
.
, , , ,
, , ,
. ,
, . ,
,
, , ,
. , ,
... ,
, . .
, ,
, ,
, ,
, , ,
,
. ,
. .
, ,
. ,
, , ,
, ,
.
. , , .
, "" ,
"" , "",
"" ,
,
"",
,
. ,
, , ,
, ,
,
; , ,
,
,
.
, , ,
,
, ,
, , ,
, , .
, ,
, .
. . ,
,
,
. ,
, ,
. ,
.
I was calm aiming to touch his necklace on his arm. Greedy in words he
shook my breast and grasped my hair. I was shocked. I was happy and excited
feeling him doing all he did. He said that there was no need to get worried
and it would be either over with no results just leaving some rags of
memories, some splintered names and figures or it might last forever. I
stayed calm and continued mindlessly recording his splashing phrases cutting
my living guides.
,
, ,
,
.
. ,
. ,
, , , ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
, . ,
,
. , , ,
, , ,
, ,
.
. ,
, , , ,
, ... , , . ,
, . .
, . ,
, , ,
, . ""
. , ,
, ,
, , ,
, ,
. .
, , ,
. .
It was obvious I turned into him.
When I closed my eyes I felt how his insanity lived inside my inner
world, catching my each look searching for myself. I tried to perceive at
least a piece of any idea born in me I gave birth to. I used to try escaping
from his influence meeting other people, looking for new acquaintances.
Being alone I was anyway kept in his aura, he ALWAYS was around. Covering
me. People like something new but what happens if they face something what
is not exactly life at all, what came from some forbidden world never known
to humanity? That happened to me. Disorder... Panic. Sometimes it seemed my
head was not mine. He just used it living in it as he needed badly a fresh
space to accumulate his new concepts having no place for that in his own.
Have you ever heard: I've lost my head! Yeah, I had. I really lost my
head but later I plainly identified I found something more. I still have
doubts how to call it: "Death" or "Resurrection"?
Once being drunk I got especially excited though I felt no physical
desire being near. He touched my shoulders, my face saying the things that
could kill any thinking of some sexuality. Then I understood: it was brain
love games. He loved my brain committing multiple intercourses...
Periodically he was a definite and the only cure to me I'd been
searching for being helpless to find an answer to a great number of
misunderstandings I was drowning in in the human world. However sometimes I
got shocked realising that it was just illusive help, and on the other side
I felt it turned into an essential sickness I fell in being lost in his
world.
, , ,
, , .
, , , , ,
, -
,
, - , ,
, .
. , ,
.
, , ,
, ,
.
.. ,
- , ,
..
.. ..
.. , , -
, , , , , ,
..
.. ..
.. ..
.. ..
-
, , ,
, , ,
, . ,
. -,
, ,
, ,
, , ,
. ,
, ,
, ,
, ,
, .
, ,
, , .
. ,
, - , - -
, -,
. , ,
, , ,
, , .
, ,
, ,
. , ,
.
,
.
, , , ,
, ,
, , , ,
. , , , ,
, -
,
, ,
, , , . ,
, "".
,
. . ,
.
. .
, , ,
. .
, ,
, , , .
, , ,
, ,
.
. ,
, ,
.
. ,
,
,
, ,
, , ,
, .
,
,
. , ,
. ,
.
. The
things I miss. I only said I love. You said we were so beautiful. We would
seat for hours in caf with nice coffee and gaze at the rain outside.
Once I enjoyed him watching me in the mirror.
Looking at my breast sleeping. Touching my breath losing. Living in my
arms charming. I was his royal subject. He was my rouge-et-noir.
Do Not Fall Apart In My Art Ride A Day And Night Drive Through And
Never Lose My Door
... .. .... ....
!!!!! ... Oh, my God! .
All the same. The same shit and shite whores of both sexes. Taking
one's time means losing yours and losing years hidden in the minutes of
fascination. Stop inanity and feel what you are, WHAT YOU ARE. It is so
simple, simpler than being.
Greetings, everyone... I am obliged to all of you listening to me. I do
appreciate your kindness and attention but will you give me a chance to fuck
your brains?.. I do not feel pleasure touching anyone's body having the
physical intercourse... Nothing is better than getting into a brain
penetrating through.
I obviously turned into him. Did he take my heart I wonder?
,
, ,
. ,
. .
, .
,
. ,
,
. .
. . ...
. .
. . ,
. , , ,
, ,
, ,
.
. . ,
, .
, . : . ,
.
, . . ,
. , . ,
. ! ,
... , .
. .
. .
, .
. ,
, ,
.
, .
, , ,
,
.
: . . . ,
. .
, ,
.
. , ,
, , . ,
.
. . ,
. . ,
, , , ,
,
.
,
, , .
, , ,
, , ,
, , ,
. .
,
,
?
, ,
. ,
.
, ,
,
. , ... ,
. , .
,
, ,
, .
, ,
. ,
. ,
,
.
. ,
, . ,
, .
. ,
. .
, . .
, , ,
. ,
, .
?
,
,
, ,
, , .
, , .
.....
- . , ,
. , ,
, ,
. ,
. , ,
. ,
,
,
. - ,
, , .
,
. ,
, , .
,
. -
. , ,
.
, , ,
...
. . ,
, , , ...
, , ,
, . ,
, , ,
. ,
, .
,
. , . .
. . ,
, ,
, , .
... ... : .
. . . . .
. . .
. .
. , ,
. . ??? ,
- , .
. . .
,
. .
. . , ,
...
, -
? , . ,
, ,
. ,
, .
, . ,
. .
. . .
. , .
, , ,
. .
, ,
. ,
, . .
, , ,
. ,
, , .
- ,
, .
. .
. .
, .
, .
, , ,
, ,
. , .
-. , . ,
. - .
- , .
. , .
, , -
. , , ,
, -- , , ,
. ,
. . . , .
. , , ,
, . , , ,
, ?
, , , ,
, , , ,
, ,
:
, ,
.
, , .
.
... ,
. , ,
,
. ,
. .... ?
? - - , , ,
,
,
, "", , ,
, -- .
,
. , ??????
,
, , ,
, , ???
, - ,
,
,
,
,
,
. , ,
, -
. ,
, -
, ... - .
.
, , .
. ,
. , , .
, .
Champaign and sex. Roden said it and disappeared in his own thought. He
also said one day: stop inanity... and what happened then... Did he find
something out of everything?
,
, .
, ,
, ,
. - .
,
, , , ,
, "".
, , , ,
. ,
- , , ,
. .
, , - ,
.
,
.
- -
, , ... - ,
, , , , ,
, .
... ... , "".
,
,
. - ,
, .
, ; ,
, , ,
, .
, .
. ,
, , , , ,
,
, , ,
.
, . ,
- ,
, .
, .
. :
-- , . . ,
. , .
, . .
.
.
, ,
, , , .
,
. , ,
: , .
. , , ,
. , , , --
- ,
. ,
, ?
, ,
, ,
. .
, , ,
, .
. .
, , .
. . ,
. .
, ,
. ,
, , .
.
.
. ,
. : , ,
, -- ...
. --
, -- .
, .
- .
, ,
. . .
, ,
. ,
, -
, , . .
, ,
, .
. -
, , , .
, ,
. .
, .
,
.
, ,
, , .
IV.
Insanity
.
, ,
, , . ,
, , .
,
, ,
, , ,
.
. , ,
, ,
, . ,
, ,
, , .
. , :
, ,
,
. .
.
. ,
, - , .
,
. ,
, .
,
, ,
. ,
. ,
, , .
. .
. .
,
.
. .
, "",
.
, . , ,
.
, :
, . ,
,
, .
. ,
, ,
. ,
. , ,
.
. ....... ,
, . .
, . ,
.
, ....
, ,
.
,
.
, :
, , ,
, , ,
,
,
,
. ,
, , ,
. ,
.
,
, ,
.
,
, , ,
.
!!!
!....
,
, ...
, --
. -- ,
, , ,
,
. ,
.
, ,
. -
, , , ,
. .
, .
. ,
. ,
.
, , ,
. ,
, ,
. . ,
, , .
.
, . , ,
, ,
.
, .
. .
.
,
, , . ,
,
.
. ,
.
,
. . ,
, . .
.
. . ,
, . ,
.
, . ,
.
- , , "",
"" - "", -
, "".
, , , ,
, , ,
. .
. , ,
, . , ,
. . ,
,
?
, .
, , ,
,
.
. .
..........
. .
.
,
- ,
.
. ,
. .
, .
, ,
.
.
.
.
,
.
, , .
--
. , ,
, . ,
, ,
. .
. . ,
.
, ,
, ,
, , : .
. ( ...
). -- ,
, --
. .
.
.
, .
, . ,
. . ,
, , ,
, .
. -
, ,
. , ,
, , ,
, -. , .
, . ,
. ... ,
, ,
, -- ,
-
, . /
-. . ,
, , , ,
-, - . ()
. , .
, . -- , , .
... , ,
, .
, , ,
, , ,
. . ,
. , , ,
, ... , , ,
, ,
. , .
. .
. . ,
.
-- -- .
, , ; , ,
. -- ,
, ?.. , ,
, .
, , , - ,
, , .
. Grant Lee Buffalo,
.
. -
, -
.
,
, ,
. ,
,
, , ,
...
... , ,
. , , .
. . ,
,
. .
:
- , ,
, ,
, -
; ,
;
, , , ,
, ,
; Pulp ,
, , ,
, -
, ,
. : --
, , -- , --
, , .
? .
,
, , , ,
... ,
. . ,
,
... , , , ..., ,
..., ..., ..., , -- .
. ,
, , .
"" "", ,
.
...
, .
, , ,
. .
, , .
.
.
- , .
: , , , .
, ,
, .
...
, ,
; , ,
, .
, ,
, , .
.
.
. .
-,
,
. . ,
, , ,
, . :
, -- . ,
, , ,
-, ,
...
-- ? -- .
-- . ,
, . , ,
. , ,
. . . :
- , , -
. .
-- . , .
.
-- , ,
" ", ?
-- , , , , ...
-- ,
, , ,
.
. , .
. , .
, . , . ,
. ,
.
. ,
. .
.
, -- , , .
Do not eat me... These lips may become my death. You are the piece of
blood. She's never had what she pretended to have. Was it a great
disappointment?..
-... ...
.
. , ,
. ( ).
.
. ,
. (
, ).
, ,
, .
...
.
, ,
. ,
, , , ,
, ,
, .
. , .
, ,
. . .
, ,
.
. ,
, .
,
,
,
.
,
, ,
.
.
, , .
? ? ? ?
?
?
, , ,
, ,
, , ,
, - - ,
.
. , , ?
,
.
, .
, ,
,
. ,
. .
. , , , ,
, , , ,
, , , , .
, ,
, , ,
- ,
, ,
. ,
, ,
,
, . -
-, , ,
, ,
, , ,
.
,
,
. , ,
, ,
, ,
.
,
, , ,
, ,
, .
.
. .
-, , , ,
,
. , , .
, ,
,
.
, , .
, ,
. , ,
, : .
, .
. .
. , ,
.
, .
,
. .
.
, . .
. ,
, ,
. , ,
.
,
. ,
,
.
, , .
,
,
.
, 2001 . -- , 2002 .,
Last-modified: Fri, 18 Jul 2003 04:19:13 GMT