Мать героиня
Сын героина
Отец героин

God bless you all 

Hello!
I decide to write something, but I do not have anything to tell you) But I really want to combine these nice Latin-origin letters in words, propositions, chapters or even books.

Book won't happen today)
As you may know.. I was in Saint Petersburg. I spent quite a lot of time in museums there. Matisse collection in the Hermitage is very nice. Decided to part my bohneur with you) Three pictures that now partly live within me. Maybe, you will like them too.

Семейный портрет (1911)


The Dessert: Harmony in Red (The Red Room) (1908)


La Musique (1910)

Сегодня я шел по Электрическому переулку, чтобы купить билеты в Санкт-Петербург на Белорусском вокзале.

Да-да, я знаю, что этому посту место в Твиттере. И вообще, пора уже удалять меня из друзей! Вот.

The telegraph gave us hope
Before was the silence and the panic it brought
The sky was the blankest sheet
We drew lines upon it
So our thoughts could meet
Through cables black and cold
We carry our intentions to bridge
And bring home
Would it all be so clear
If the lines were erased
And the silence restored?

Boys of today write lines on walls
In the streets at night
In suburbans of cities with no name
Is this destruction or just quiet protest
Against loneliness

The car go lights in our lamps
They're weight is so heavy
And this is all we know
Our message will need a ship
To travel across oceans
That can't otherwise be crossed

It undulates on the waves
And cautions the water so we can be safe
It underplate on the waves
Then cautions the water so we can be safe

F. T. Marinetti, 1909
The Futurist Manifesto

We want to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and rashness. 
The essential elements of our poetry will be courage, audacity and revolt. 
Literature has up to now magnified pensive immobility, ecstasy and slumber. We want to exalt movements of aggression, feverish sleeplessness, the double march, the perilous leap, the slap and the blow with the fist. 
We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace. 
We want to sing the man at the wheel, the ideal axis of which crosses the earth, itself hurled along its orbit. 
The poet must spend himself with warmth, glamour and prodigality to increase the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements. 
Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Poetry must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man. 
We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! What is the use of looking behind at the moment when we must open the mysterious shutters of the impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We are already living in the absolute, since we have already created eternal, omnipresent speed. 
We want to glorify war - the only cure for the world - militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman. 
We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice. 
We will sing of the great crowds agitated by work, pleasure and revolt; the multi-colored and polyphonic surf of revolutions in modern capitals: the nocturnal vibration of the arsenals and the workshops beneath their violent electric moons: the gluttonous railway stations devouring smoking serpents; factories suspended from the clouds by the thread of their smoke; bridges with the leap of gymnasts flung across the diabolic cutlery of sunny rivers: adventurous steamers sniffing the horizon; great-breasted locomotives, puffing on the rails like enormous steel horses with long tubes for bridle, and the gliding flight of aeroplanes whose propeller sounds like the flapping of a flag and the applause of enthusiastic crowds.


 

A is for Abandoned
B is for Bolshoi
C is for  Catherine
D is for Debt
E is for Eugene
F is Forfuckssake
G is for Gotohell
H is for Honey-bunny
I is for Idiot
J is for Julia
K is for Katapulta
L is for Lime
M is for Moisha
N is for New
O is for Opasnost
P is for Peter
Q is for QualityPain
R is for Roman rock'n'roll revival
S is for Semerka baklajan4ik
T is for Teleport
U is for Utilities
V is for Vicont
W is for Wooden arms
X is for Xena - queen of warriors
Y is for Yield
Z is for Zanuda

 

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.

Choose your future.

Я теперь Executive 1.

ЭМОЦИИ ЭМОЦИИ ЭМОЦИИ ЭМОЦИИ ЭМОЦИИ ЭМОЦИИ ЭМОЦИИ!!!!!)))))

На самом деле, нет) Но приятно! Какое-то достижение..
И понервничал даже. Я живой человек, you know)

Давно я ничего сюда не писал.
Вы не чувствуете, что превращаетесь в унылое гавно? Хотя Вы, наверное, нет)
А вот я превращаюсь. Приближается понедельник и горячие струи фрустрации, под которые я частенько попадаю во время рабочей недели. Самая больщая проблема для человека - это отсутствие четко поставленной цели. Если ты никуда не идешь, то зачем вообще шагать?

You gotta have dream, 'cause if you don't have a dream, how are you gonna make that dream come true?

Выходные прошли очень неплохо. Знакомился с людьми, знакомил людей с собой, выпивал, работал, нашел отличную песню Roxy Music, хоть они и пошлая в чем-то группа. Не прочитал ни строчки из строчек, которые давно ждут моих глаз.
900 рублей на карточке до 5 октября.
Грустно.
Но с другой стороны щеки и живот снова начинают заметно выступать, так что грустно, но полезно. Скучаю по тому, как все было раньше, но это бесполезная рефлексия.

Гулять ночью с плеером
в электрическом свете -
это фотосинтез
для болезненно одиноких.

Много чего хочу и много чего пора бы уже начать делать!

Какое кино я пропустил за полгода? А почитать что надо? С музыкой у меня своя программа, но если что-то действительно крутое вам встретилось, сообщайте. Буду рад любым рекоммендациям!
Нет мира, кроме мира в вашей голове. Не всегда, но часто)