среда, 04 октября 2006
08:15

I couldn't care less.
The doctor came in to check my pulse, but wound up interlacing distortion levels. You never know what it may end up with. My vein was all rubber and glue. It was the street curled up in God's lap. meowing in multiple orgasm. That was the default ringtone nobody wants. Customize me.

He shouted in my ear. Stress. Shoot himn in the head and that's all over. The Space button switches the infrared crosshairs on. Jeadshot. I mastered that. That's my major as they like to say in here.

As soon as I got you caught under the palm trees with a jarred half-bottle in the hand, I knew we'll make friends. I knew you knew how to do that smooth. Well, i'm never wrong. Now you know it.

Now you can squeeze pleasure out of the plastic tube. Ruby Rose Risk. Black on white. White on red. I look so infernal, so decent. So fragile, so virgin.

I'm on the verge. He turned the power on and the amp gave a weak whail. Let's burn a couple of holes in this world of theirs. Chords.

Notes.

Cords.

Riffs.

I went back as far as my memory would allow me. I changed the world. He changed iut backwards. Playing on contrast. He ventured out for a decent drumline and brought porn instead.

You just get to Hunan Lu and find whatever you want. he asked the wrtong people and I knew that the cops had already intercepted the call. It's easy with that AMOI stuff of his. Data transfer went wild. "Transistors gone wild".

The display blurred and showed me my face back. I nearly threw up. Somebody was knocking at the door. I plugged the fuzz pedal in and started to play. It went out. Quiet. Noiseless. The city waited. Listened.

I stopped.

And the magic was over.

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вторник, 03 октября 2006
13:23

I couldn't care less.
I got lost. No, I didn't get lost. What if it's just a postmortem? What if? Oh, no. Enough. I said, enough. The plane fell down. What if it did? What if I'll be the one you've met before?

No, I never got lost. It's my birthright. To find the way. To find my way whatever happens. Whatever city. Whatever time of the day. You missed me. Narrowly. All your cars and bikes and lorries, I escaped, you know. They appeared to be too slow.

They appeared to be useless. Try something else for a change. The roads. The traffic lights. The language I don't know. Whatever it is, i'm getting where I want to.

You fuck it up. Day by day. I never get lost.


URL
07:29

I couldn't care less.
"Life is pain - get over it!" (c)

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суббота, 30 сентября 2006
11:47

I couldn't care less.
Not being a drug addict doesn't mean a thing but for the fact that the way you have fun hasn't yet been prohibited.

URL
четверг, 28 сентября 2006
04:56

I couldn't care less.
What're you to do when the only thing you got is an SD card and a pen-drive? Nah, I'm asking myself, what am I to do? Download what? Or upload what?

Whatever you can imagine is true as long as it stays in your mind. Whatever I imagine is what you're likely to deal with, doc. 50 percent in 15 minutes, isn't that amazing? Perhaps you could tell me what I'm looking at right now.

Could you or could you not?

I might send you a screenshot of my state. You know, the mem-like pictrure. A momentary sculpture of my mind. The weidest stuff you ever saw.

Or else I might strat writing traditional Chinese poetry. My dictionary will be my holy bible. Next, I choose nouns at random. Next, I choose the link verbs. Organize them in any order I like. Rhyme is of no importance.

People will get my staff tattooed on their skin before sunrise.

Say what. Professional saviour. Fuck you, you've spoilt enough lives. Mine one is your experiment. The one you failed.

What 'bout changing roles?

URL
среда, 27 сентября 2006
14:34

I couldn't care less.
I was watching stars whereas my back was freezing against the stone bench. Some elderly freak was practicing Taiqi nearby. His hands were drifting right in front of him and all he did was look at me. With disgust. Suspicion. Hatred.

Yeah, who said I were second-rate.

Not here. Not now, jerk. I'm just watching the stars, got that?

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вторник, 26 сентября 2006
11:36

I couldn't care less.
I insert the chipped "Switchfoot" CD into the player. I turn the player on and forget about everything but music. I stop. Take a deep breath. I give a lighter to some Chinese girl, who's despertate for light.

I run.

I stop.

I run again.

Look at me. Don't you turn away, motherfucker. Look. This is what happens when you spend the money on CDs instead of food. This is what music brings you to. Emptiness. Inside and outside.

It eats you from within.

The shirt and the trousers are already loose, but I don't think of stopping for anything else. Instead, I run. I read. And then run.

I don't go to gym. I can't lift a pen to say nothing of anything heavier than that.

I don't go. I run.

I run until I lose my breath. I spit - it scratches my throat - and pant.

I run.

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понедельник, 25 сентября 2006
14:01

I couldn't care less.
I see no point in being myself.

They never give a fuck. Nobody does. As soon as it concerns somebody else, I'm out of the question. Right, well, I don't need your hand. Let me rot, just don't brainwash me, ok?

Just don't pretend you care.

Better pretend you heard it.

URL
воскресенье, 24 сентября 2006
12:07

I couldn't care less.
There you are, my vomiting friend, with your back against the newspaper wall. My hands were elbow-deep in the keyboard. That sucking sound. I could kill for that. Everything went in a harmonious mix: Nirvana and instant noodles, black-polished nails and the yellow cupboard.

We were all going the same way. C'mon, give it up, stay back from me, would you? I got happy and content with my life only when she squeezed my arm.

- Freeze, sucker.

The multi-layered narration stopped abruptly. Her legs spread wide, her tongue dangling in her filthy mouth. That was just a dream. You'd better not be worrying about that.

That's what they told me in the precinct. That's what I'm going to tell at home. It was nothing. Just a dream. A nightmare. The girl, whom I wanted to try. The self-induced trial.

No, you're not organized. You're extremely systematic. You fall under any paradigm possible. Feel that. Close your eyes and drift.

"Phanthom of the Paradise". Seen that? I did. I read you, now you may go throw yourself away. Pay the rent. Work. Pay. Work. Pay. Don't you feel there's something wrong in the succession? Something repetative?

I shun back as the dog threw its mouth open. No way, dick, I'm too high on speed. Biting me is poisonous. Got that, Big Fuck?

Now you got that?

I come home late in the marning. Me and my clothes. We wash together. I cut off the sleeves of the ever-so-precious overcoat. Glam. That's what it is now.

Tie your insides in a knot, will you? Zip yourself, slut, you're shopping in the wrong place.

I'm not for people. I'm for DVDs.

URL
суббота, 23 сентября 2006
10:06

I couldn't care less.
As soon as I tentatively opened the door, I knew there was someone else in the room. He was sitting on the floor, juggling eyeballs, dead drunk.

That's how I met my roommate.

We twisted every dimension possible, which made it easy to lose yourself and anybody else there. In the room. It was nicely furnished until the holy fire blasted the better side of the window wall. The 550V power supply was always in use, I connected it to my spine with the wire someone left.

Someone who lived there before me.

Someone I never knew.

The sooner the better. They say "the sooner the better" and I made "soon" sound like "forever". We all know how to invert reality. We know, it's simple magic.

As soon as the room wal brimful of cry, the doors opened and the corridor was flooded by fear. Rage. Hatred. Mischief. Pain. Anger. Hopelessness. Intoxication.

Intoxication of all sorts made us bear that better.

You know what, tongue-twisters saved the world. They did it once and they're gonna do that again. The burning cigarette is my only vital sign. But you'd better not touch it.

The overboard temperature is creeping in. Please, fasten your seatbelts and press your bellybuttons.

I was watching "Stay" when he came in and announced the apocalypse yet to come. Shit, that was two to one, I could never deal with things of such sort. I surely know how it is, to escape in the sсriрt holes, but this was not the case.

The ultimate truth is: "I scare them". They talk to me for fifteen minutes and go home.

Whatever it means. They change their location. Addresses. E-mails.

The baldheaded guy was squeezing some girl into the sofa. I hung loose from another shot of gin. The sofa was too small for both of them, so he was on top. All yo gotta do is just be.

You needn't talk. You needn't think. And - bang - there's a pretty girl on the sofa with your dick inside her.

I was sitting, watching them. Couldn't take my eyes off them. The party was over. He was the winner. I were the loser. He kissed her and sucked her in.

Good luck. Bad luck. All you have to do is be like him. The least thing you want to do is be like me. I thrashed my hand into my back pocked and tossed out a battered cigarette.

They say I do something wrong, but I don't know what exactly they mean.

I light up.

Back home. The body hung in mid-air. My roommate's corpse opened its eyes in a greeting. His half-rotten hand flung into the air as the mute shrill of "Hi-how-are-you-doing" blasted the windows open.

It was a fuckup of a morning.

URL
четверг, 21 сентября 2006
12:41

I couldn't care less.
Know what, fuck you all.

URL
среда, 20 сентября 2006
08:50

I couldn't care less.
Had she at least unwrapped my present, that could've been rewarding. I trace the purple package flying across the room into the heap of teddybears and flowers. She never bothered.

Invite me to the party. She never bothered.

They consider me too dangerous to be around. An insane drunkard. Self safety.

They bother.

Everyone does. Nobody is looking forward to the long trip alongside.

Yeah, each and everyone. Pretty and handsome.

You bother.

URL
08:46

I couldn't care less.
Mwa-ha-ha, self restriction sucks.

URL
вторник, 19 сентября 2006
13:56

I couldn't care less.
I can be noiseless if I want to. I'm lurking in the shadows behind you. I'm just interested. You never know. I always have where to disappear, whereas you've got nowhere to hide.

See you.

URL
07:48

I couldn't care less.
As long as you have nothing to confide, you can confide anything.

URL
понедельник, 18 сентября 2006
12:08

I couldn't care less.
Keyboard psycho. Tell me the time, please. Put it on, turn it off. They don't have decent space buttons here. But they've got buttocks in plenty, mwa-ha-ha.

- Get out of here, now!

The food looks at you. What do you have to say to it? Make it stop crying.

You may say whatever as long as you're sure of the negative answer. Play Hamlet every day. Until it gets boring and testosteron comes rushing down your veins, guiding you in and out. In and out.

Sign a postcard for me.

They would never say yes, but they like my style. The compliments I make. The way I behave. Hey, somebody, feed me, don't you see I'm dying.

Don't you, fucker, see that I'm in desperate need of salvation.

Well, mail me.

URL
воскресенье, 17 сентября 2006
11:02

I couldn't care less.
If it goes up to plain talk, I'm always the one to do that for everybody. But as soon as it touches sex matters, I'm by any reason left smoking outside.

Since I have noone to dance with as well as i'm void of the possibility of having a full-etiquette talk with anyone at the pub, the only choice left is to get stark drunk and get done with my sexual ambitions with menthol.

I take the last cigarette out of the pack and get into the street right into the indigo light. The circle is swarming with traffic. 2 am. The cars zoom past me with no intention of stopping. The city lives. Well, as for me, I'm not too sure about that. Who knew I might wind up in some godforsaken city of southern China? Maybe you did. I did not.

The cigarette burns my fingers showing no compassion at all. But it's ok, nobody does. Those few people that pass by stare at me as if I were some encaged rarity. Which is not so far from the truth as I wish it were. It's ok with me, though. I hardly ever felt otherwise.

Actually, "I never felt" would be a more precise thing to say.

URL
пятница, 15 сентября 2006
14:45

I couldn't care less.
As soon as you don't have a thing to do, get yourself a bottle of wine. Here I am, sitting on the steps of the police dept just waiting for something to happen. I'd better not mind my wet feet. It's gonna be a long night. Three drags are more than enough to lose both vigilance and fear. Get meself another one for the loss of the common sense. Anyway, I don't need them so far.

C'mon, man, let's make it fundamental. Light up another one. It may very well make this shitty wine taste passable. And another one after that. Somebody, please, cross me out.

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четверг, 14 сентября 2006
09:26

I couldn't care less.
They avoid me. They have nothing to say to me. They don't answer me. I can't do anything to that. I won't even try. As always. They split themselves into the cast-like groups. Sure enough, I never fit in. Now they have got their ruler-of-the-world plans. I don't. I don't have any plans for the oncoming 200 years.

They choose girls. "I chose something else" (c).

Nicotine. Alcohol.

I wish my Grandma gave me presents. But she will not. She's dead.

Every cigarette you have, every drink you swallow modifies you so that you loose your way back. It gets pretty complicated. Turns and turns and turns. I wish I never rot. But I know I already started to.

I'd better remember the day I started talking to myself. Feeding on the free food samples from the supermarket. Remember it. That's the only way to revert to the system control point. To boot with the stable parametres if everything goes ash. And I bet my hand it will. Everything does, eventually. So it's not that stupid to have a sample of the default life configuration to start everything anew.

Better than to wander in the park at night, beating about the walking couples. They don't hear you. They are deaf. They won't care.

Unless you kick them with your bike.

Start shouting.

Go raving.

Cry.

URL
суббота, 09 сентября 2006
15:17

I couldn't care less.
"See you" is the most popular phrase ever. Ain't right. Anyway. Nobody will ever see anyone. Yeah, man, keep smoking, man, in about a hundred years you'll get immortal.

Damn, what the hell was that? Yep. Look at me. Nobody to say that to. C'mon, let's go public. As much as possible. Don't you feel that you're running out of words? What an acute statement.

What else? What will I get accustomed to? Is that unreal 2006 as unreal as it seems? Flinching from side to side. 2007 and on. "Get the life" (c).

Too many sincretic sighns around. Found my niche at last? Mwa-ha-ha, like hell I did.

Like hell. Right.

This folder doesn't have any incoming mail. Well, in fact, no folder does. It's only my imagination that lets me go as far as p[ossible. Hope some time I won't find my way back.

I'll stay in the land of the nightmares and wet dreams. Or they'll stay in me, which is worse.

Eating takes too much effort. You have got to remember too many things at once. Nothing has yet started. Night. Darkness. Neon lights. The perfect ingredients for a Tequila Sunrise evening.

"And then what?" (c) Another morning? Does it really matter where? Does it really matter if one doesn't come?

"Talkin', talkin', talkin' all the time" (c) Well, I don't know but they say there's something more than the computer stuff.

Keep off. Stay back. Type bold. Solve your own problems. Don't give a fuck.

And what if I do get worse?

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