"Behind every system, behind every rule stands a corpse and laughs. You can't tell me who I should sleep with. I don't work for wages. My life is a revolution... My life is a beautiful life... What you call freedom, I call waste... I will continue to love my own voice. If everyone becomes me, everything will collapse."

Bruno K. Ă–ijer

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Missing Slipper

There was a journey. I felt every inch of it. one shoe slipped. I took the chance. I want to stay.

Waiving. Looking for perfection inside somewhere. I felt the need to kill my head. To take it off. To switch it. To make it stop. stop. Stop!

So childish, we are moving and not going anywhere. Loosing is the game i don't want to play. Not now. Had to many cups of that tea. Shut it! Light's IN. Put it in and shut-up! I see everything throw some fucked-up prism. For no reason what so ever. Go out. Go in. Go way. Go there. Go here.

Poison. Had too much of it. To little. To fast. I know. I know we need to have some balance. Take the pill. Take it. NOW!

Waiting to work. For it to come to some thing that might happen. SHUT. this is the reason. THis is the answer. This is manic. Again again gain. Cant stop. I had so many possibilities. So many ways and patters. Empty empty container of useless and uncured thoughts.

Understanding is useless. thoughts are useless. being is useless. writing is useless. this country is useless, my country is useless, we are useless.

I'm high. It finely kicked in. Warm and cosy like in cotton. Don't have much to say....just stop writing you idiot. Just let this laptop go. Just leave it, just stop. Will. i do. i ..... my mind keeps slipping away.

Yellow ....yellow yellow walls. I can write, work, sleep is the only answer. Tons of water went down my hair. re-tipe. re-chek. connect. She sings about ghosts. and really sun is getting in and out. Dimming on my toes. one pair of slippers to share.

Missed my morning. Memories is a bitch. no eating. forgetting the moments in and out. something is not rite here. Like an irresistible joke. hate it.

Go woman. Check the levels of the inconvenience. Go and don't forget for to breath. We will be back. 10 seconds of heaven. This all is a huge lie. This was never the place. There was never an answer. There was never a point - he was never the answer!

That thing took advantage of my head. it wanted me to surrender. It wanted me all the possible ways. It wanted me chewed up. With no pulse. With tired hands. With ... walk away, walk pass me. This suburban little town is the biggest whore i have ever seen. It's all sold-out to the regime. The all are like little chickens from the same fucked up factory. Having an invader in black. Red lipstick never lies. You can hunt me dow, brain wash my head, trow away all the records - but red lips will stay. They are braided in. They will never go. This a world number ZERO!

What a fun for me - the watcher. Be able to feel every frightened cell of the chickens. tweet tweet. HAHA! I'm a woman - HEAR ME ROAR! There are few of us here. We do not know each other, but feel the presence. You could pick us by the way we walk. By the smell of our old 40-ties perfume. By the swastikas on the black coat or daggers in the head. Long tight black jeans witch melts in the sun. By the smell of cigarettes on the fingers. By hatred and unconditional sarcasm in the look. By the seamy smile we wear from day to day. By tons of coffee we are able to drink even if it's light fall. By the way we sit in your perky little coffee shop. By the way we order wine in the morning. By the lines in the arms. By every single second you feel uncomfortable when we are near you. By the wonderful long lasting sex we have and you are afraid even to think about. By the lines from last night bondage on the wrists. By the hypnotic stare in your little head. We know what you think. We know what you want. We know what you do. We know what you dream about when you are alone of with your boring partner in your big big cold bed. We know....!

So dream you little dream of us in your hypocrite church.. Dream and pray to your corps on the cross, that one day, for just an hour you could be one of us. But don't forget the rule:

If you want that, you will sell your self to us. And we will spread your ashes on your mornings scrambled eggs.

Good night,


Saturday, May 15, 2010

Time is a killer with a whore on he's back

So who is who really now? If humanety tryis to impress each othere all the time. Then we let it go, then fall out again.

No then, no was, no when. Let's just say IS. Just risk it. I am 23 and something. Trying not to serender to total consuming epydemy and cary on with that fulish fulish idea for creating. Learning to forgive. Witnessing how to forget. Trying not to forget the roots, and still be able to live in a kingdom far far away.


While walking, had a desperate need for cup of coffee. Black as a sky on a moonless night. The was a need to keep going. Even if the circle will poses me. Don't care, don't care, don't care.

Just get way plan, from my highly chaotic apartament. With all the 1000 pictures on the wall, with all the drowings, paintings, mugs, pots, knifes, forkes and other unnessesery nasesety. Needed the feel of fresh air in the hair.

So i just took of. After this coffe and sevy poetic pouse, I will run to the othere worlds around. Go for tickets to other lands around and stay in anothere kingdom far far away.

In the land of gardens, drive ins, beatuiful antique gates, same cut and shaped tree, gourges extremaly greem louns, perfectly clean sidewalks. Where everybody is perfect, clean and sane. Where we will stay still for days. Where time will melt in to jelly and I will wash it off.

Where the silnce off the streets luluby's me. Where even bad days are good once. Where I could lie in a perfect bed under perfect sheets and know that everyminute now.......he will come home and I will serve dinner.

Do everything the book teached me, as how to coupe with my brain. I will follow all the tips and tricks. I promise I will do my best. 2 diferent front lobes are in control. And lets just pray the ONE will take charge.


I see bread croms on the foor. Fake red leather booth. Four tables, three cheers. poorly fakeing vintage american diner. Two walked up the stairs.

Window glass is covered is smudges. Cheek of children, salayva and fingertips.

Outside is cold, windy. Funnny, people everywhere are exactly the same. They all rush in huge hurry. Trying to change wswings, circles and spireles of life. Knowking in adwance they never will.

Surgens hall is just on the othere side. Sun is having a love fair with that magnificant building.

___somewhere here my time stooped ____
_______brain shut down_______

Good night,

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The Pink Room

There's a weird sound coming from the roof and between the walls. This time I know I want to but-cant. Anger is moving us towards the edges. Sharp floors taking us away. We are choking on information. To much complications. Still there is a wish for the better outcome. Going in circles for someones orders. Terrified that someday we will need to take the risk for the actions. Never understood why is everything so complicated. Keep running. Nothing will change even if we will drown our self's in smart quotations.

My cigarettes are leaving burn marks on the fingers. Trembling in hands for the new glass. I've seen it before. Nothing will change the hunters mind. Know all the words that come out from the guilty mouth. Seen all that in books and screens of my past. You are right, I should wright a novel one day. Temperature is rising, don't forget you intake honey. I promise I will not. I promise i will be good. I promise I will do my best... fuck!

Promised him I will do good. To change my DNA. To take medication. Not to rush with the dog. Gain back the reasonable way dealing with money incomes. Cope with the state of mind. Think before you act and everything will get back to "normal". But there a woodpecker sitting in my left side. And every time the mouth opens, wrong words seem to come out. PROUD? What the F was i thinking or even better NOT thinking. Stupid stupid lady in her tight black jeans and subliminal T-Shirt.

The snake is eating the patterns in my gray brain material. I think some day it will all end-up on the floor somewhere in the box. So important now - so useless later.

7 am - we rushed and rushed, shared the bathroom on pri-organized time table. Peanut butter will kill you and cigarettes will save the world. The Lolita was born again, walking that walk even if the soil will burn my feet.
Drive in. Have I mentioned before that the building it self looks like an old lady on her last breath? That all the people inside are looked in, even if all the doorways are clear and there is no keys to hide.

My mind refused to remember the corridors and the ways to go. Instincts shut-down. Asking directions. OK. Here. Sit. Wait. .... tick...tack.... as always all the magazines are out-dated. 40 something minutes later. I knew all of them by hard while writing this in a notepad. Uncomfortable silence. Everybody moves in chronological order. Everybody speaks the same - lips not moving. Like flash light commercials on local TV and dozens eyes packed in the skull watching.

He walked in slow motion. All in glitter. He had a plastic smile and Pinocchio nose. He looked. Standing almost not breathing. Picked one in line. - Welcome to the paradise. The plastic smile grew and the pink room shined of gold, glamor and cotton-candy. To fucked-up to think and to dosed-up to tell you whats happening. Meat is coming from the roof - tops. Beeping sounds on the other-end make a perfect melody and I sure have the lyrics.

I felt as need my prostitute back. Her tight arms. Her bent back. Her unconditional obedience. I wanted her to lie on the table for me and stop the chest from moving. I wanted to feel the tightness of her neck. To look in the eyes of the magical creation I raised in my mind. I needed her there. I needed to touch the unforgettable.

Good bless and good night,

Sunday, May 2, 2010


It was to early. I could not find my favorite zippo (dads present). Moved in slow motion. Pause. Revers view. Sounds. OK. It's all in my head. That can be happening. But it was. Called him.
- Do you hear it? - What? - THE FUCKING HELICOPTERS! 2 day in the row. - Are sure they are? mmm... moment. - Yes!
- OK then they are after you!
- Not funny! he laugh. I had a wee smile.

Sat in front of my typewriter. And this is what came out from my tired brain this early annoying morning:

Woke up. 9:47
The sound in the air was geting on my nervs. Moved to the window. 3 helicopters wher in the air. I've seen them yesturday. They are back again. First thought:
It's a delusion. Checked again. Nope. They are real. Other people where staring out from theyr windows too. OK. Don't panic. It's just the paranoia. It's a regular thing here. UK - Scotlad. The homeland of bigbrother. But wait a second. Never seen them before. So what is it then? Queen is visiting? Election day? hm... another was against terror thing...

That sound doesnot let you sleep. Too much before coffee time.
My kitchen is filled with dishes and yesturdays wine glasses. Made coffee. Sat on the couch. Music on. Cant hear it. Thous fucking flying bees of steel are covering the sound. Headphones. Better! Took out my recorder. Went bck to the bedroom (the sound is even stronger from that sound of the building)are recorded the madness. If somebody would ever ask me, it was not an imagination.
I have proof. Really heard it, seen it. It's happening. Total control.

Moving in rapid speed of circles around my dad beat body. They are on man hunt. 100% satisfaction to the leader. Focus. Hunting as a perfectly skilled and trained predators. Are you ready kiddies? Please bring your passport, ID, fingerprints and come ON IN! Watch your step and UP we GO. State your pure Identity. Oh, how much fun will it be!

we will brand you
we will taste you
we will test you
we will lick your sins
we will make you squeal
we will make you forget your mama and papa
we will make PURE rase out of you
o, YES we will..!

Now is the time for a change, now is the time to face your enemy. THE ENEMY! Your ENEMY - THE ENEMY IS YOU

So do you, do YOU want to be pure? Do you want to be something worth the game? Come on in. No "taxi driver" quotes, no to fitting in struggle, trying to figure out who you are. No more index fingers. No more fuck you to the teacher. GOD is on our side. Dogs behind my back. That means the path is right. No more Neo. No more cardbord goverment. You will obey to one simple rule:



Your right is:
To Slave and To Be Slaved

Welcome to the pure era kids. Kiss the leather boots of the leader and don't forget thet it's always tea time.

Good night,