Ничто так не пробуждает любовь к жизни, как близость смерти, пусть на мгновение.

Я - ничтожный Бог...
Я это понял
Я способен на многое..
сила не в достигнутом, а в потенциале
Зерно неведомой силы существует внутри и отдельно от меня
Главное - искусство ее применения, нет - даже умение ее извлечь и направить
Я властен над своим телом, но не властен над духом
Я могу убить себя или сделать себя сильнее
Я способен уничтожать других, но неспособен давать жизнь
Я безвластен над своим духом
Он - часть силы, доступ к которой затруднен
Я хранитель силы, которой неспособен овладеть, и я не один такой
я - бессильный БОГ
как страшно терять почву из-под ног и тонуть, тонуть, тонуть. шторм безумия разметывает мысли и они разлетаются шипящей пеной, расплескиваются чернилами по бумаге, кристаллами по матрице, летят стрелами, пронизывая пустоту, которую неспособны заполнить

over Lac Leman, view onto Mont Blanc

Nothing's worth my attention...not even myself.

words are sharp knives. the cuts are deep. music's like strong drink. I spill that cocktail and I immerse my feelings into it

"je voudrais te revoir,
briller d l'ectrastar
j'ai envie de te voir
et crasher sur la gloir..."

'Indochine'

Пачка Марлборо, таблетка,
Белой пылью на салфетке
Разлинеен порошок,
Грам-другой на посошок -
И вперед - искать ответы,
Грош-цена чужим советам,
В мир иной открыта дверь -
Счастье есть! ты просто верь...

Отвлеченный вопрос: скольких любовь сделал несчастными, и скольких счаслтивыми?
Наблюдается ли баланс?
Скольких она убила и скольких родила? Баланс?
И сколько вреда она принесла?
Чертова химия...

Я знаю теперь, что усталость может быть такой, что не дает заснуть...
А еще - что усталость - это еще одна иллюзия. Мой утомленный разум абсолютно уверен, что я способен сбросить усталость с себя как плохой сон.
Безумие вкрадывается к разуму в доверие все больше и больше, шепча: "Ты можешь все, есть сила, источники ее неисчерпаемы, ты способен игнорировать и нивелировать эффекты усталости и боли. Воля - все. В конце концов это все - иллюзии: боль - иллюзия, наличие силы и безсилие - иллюзии".
Это бред? Я не фанат (scince-)fiction.
Но я уже наполовину верю в эту концепцию, предложенную мне сообществом плохо контролируемых нейронов...
Счастье - иллюзия? "Да" - я слышу шепот - "только ты можешь сделать себя счастливым..."
Нет сил бороться с сомнениями, впрочем они сами друг с другом борются. Только почему-то в качестве поля боя они избрали пространство моего разума... Сталкиваются, убивают друг друга, рождают союзы, вихрем сдувают всякие попытки законного правителя территории восстановить порядок... Боже какой бордель...
Оказывается ты чувствуешь, когда сходишь с ума, ты знаешь об этом, но не в силах остановить процесс..
Никто не поверит... До самого последнего момента... Мир внешний слаб подчас в борьбе со внутренним

Свою самую глубокую рану,
я раскровавлю стихом рваным
Пускай пустота и одиночество
Сгинут завыв, мне драться хочется -
Ошметки стихов в лицо бросив,
Вгрызусь, ломая зубами кости
Нет - мой ответ, конфликт - имя,
Смятенье, хаос и то, что с ними.

A thought just came to my mind:
HOW CAN PEOPLE BE SO STUPID TO FEEL HAPPY?

My mind can't accept even the possibility of being happy. There's nothing in this world to be happy about...

Morges, quay

Love is a great adventure.
But the hardest part sometimes is to find for this adveture a companion...

can't sleep
am so tired, I feel I could sleep for ages
but it becomes a torture to try and fall asleep
I spent hours just trying, my brain is making crazy number of rpm, heart starts beating so fast like am running
same fucking thoughts are exhausting me
I sleep max 4 hours a day, it's been a week already
I live in a virtual reality, I can't feel real world
I can physically feel like madness is conquering my mind
I can't, but I continue
life is like a bad dream
time's passing so fast, I can't remember an hour or a day anymore
would someone help me?..
I won't ask

Вихрем резкий звук ворвался
Иглы нервов мозг пронзили
Скрежет стекол взвыв сломался
Разлетелся колкой пылью

Острой сильной сердца болью
Вскрикнув, тело изогнулось
Жгучей, жгущей рану солью,
Чувство чаянье вернулось

Взрывом злость смела плотины
Штормом выплеснулось пламя
Всплыли мятежом картины
Мертвым прошлым память раня

Затопив огнем долины,
На концах блестящих копий,
Ярость принесла в руины
Смерть навязчивых утопий...

I can have her easily. Nice, tender, smart, experienced... But I can't help thinking about the other one... The one who doesn't need me...
Fucking funny, eh?

...my computer from your photoes...
I walk through the folders, like I walk through my past life
I remember this one - the very first of you I got. That night you came to my room for the first time. I resisted as long as I could. You stayed...
Remember this one - European New Year in Southern China, weird thing, the air was +20 or so... We all were in T-shirts... Ate a bizarre food in a "Italian place" and went to a Chinese disco (fun, but like fish in the barrel)

Thailand, short winter vacation.
You remember those islands? Koh Samui, Krabi, Koh Lanta...
Koh Lanta - you remember like we were climbing in that cave in the centre of the island, remember how scared you were?

That one, beautiful... delete. You started building distance on that stage.
Ya... I remember that nice American guy. You fucked him in the room next door in that hotel in Sanya. There was 8 of us there I guess.
That was a period when we all did a lot of E. You knew I knew, you fucked him anyway, 3 meters far from my bed...
I was destroyed, and E of course made it worse. I was so close to start killing people: you, him, myself. You know why I didn't? I just didn't want to show that I cared for you...
I ran away, ran to Beijing, alone, sick and tired with almost no money left.
Fuck you... Delete, delete, yes, confirm...
30 photoes. I'm cleaning the folders from you, I'm deleting your images from the disk, I'm cutting you out from my heart, I don't give a fuck that it's bleading..
When an organ is really bad and makes patient suffer, they cut it out.
It's called surgery.
Wish it was that easy to clean my memory... You'll die out... I'll not support your phantom anymore...
You're blocked. Blocked and blacklisted. You can't reach me now.
I don't need your friendship, keep it for yourself...

... I finally broke up with her. Finally... ultimately
with her, with my Love, with my Life
I loved her more than anybody in this world
It was over long ago actually, but I still had a great Hope, feeded and supported by love
She didn't discourage me
She was happy to see me that last time, when I went 300 kilometers to spend with her one evening, one night and one morning
Finally I made her confess that she never actually loved me
She doesn't love me now. She has her boyfriend. She says she loves him... - what a lucky guy. And he even doesn't know how lucky he is
Unfair, unjust...
I'm destroyed, I'm so empty... I am just a black hole in this small universe of this nice town
There are people around me. Neighbours in the flat next door, above me, below
Whole city lives its life around me
Sunday evening, people are busy with their lives
And in the middle of this city there's a small black hole - my empty heart
It's filled with vacuum, horrifying, boundless
Universe in universe
I'm just nothing, nobody,
I don't wanna do anything
I can't move
I can't talk
I don't wanna live, it's painful
But I don't wanna kill myself, cause it's an effort
I don't want no effort
Because moving makes you feel that you are living. Moving makes me feel pain
Pain in my sole, in the place where there was a heart before and now- there's just a tiny but enormous black hole
One hour of exchanging with SMSs. I didn't pick up the phone when she tried to call me.
I don't wanna speak with her.
I can't.
She's just killed me...

I ain't afraid of pain
No more afraid to fight,
Just scared when a rain
And dark devour light.....

Don't have a fear of death,
of failing, falling down...

When night is on its path
when silence eats the sound
when I'm alone and you
are here... far away
when I don't have a clue
how could I make you stay,
there comes a time for me
to be afraid to live
a time of misery,
despair, disbelief...

I wonder is this love - what I feel?
And how can you be sure?
What makes the difference between love and flame?
What does it take for all your mixed feelings to become love?
It doesn't appear from nothing.
There's loneliness, there's fatigue, there's pain, there's a need to care for someone, there's a need for physical contact; there's chemistry (of course!) which is a consequence and a cause.
Finally, there's an object.
Anything else? Anything I forgot?
Well, anyway, when and how all this cocktail becomes love?
Is it an evolution or revolution?
Fuck, no! I ain't a phylosopher, I'm just curious...
Now, would you belive that I don't give a damn about whom to love (just to be clear, am not speaking about fucking here). I just need someone to love and to care for. Anybody nice and not stupid. I guess I'm asking too much.

Beauty)