In What We Dwell - ver.1

In what we dwell

To those who will read this: please, do not be surprised, shocked, amazed or disturbed by this good slosh of words that follow. It is written in modern form which means it uses associative technique including the drift of conscience. You, dear reader, will probably think it is plain Irish, senseless but that is the whole point of it. Nothing can change it. Now read it, pay attention to what you read and think about it. You may just realize how right I am.

Anarchy.

Complete, total anarchy.

That is what I want, what I believe in, in what I trust. Hate the phrase: “In god we trust. In god we believe”. Hate the people. Hate the trees hate the plants… hate the world. All the history of the world is on its scales. All the people. All the actions. We are all just little pictures in the scales. We are plastic soldiers in a miniature dirt war.
Why anarchy? Take a look at this effete world you dwell in today. What do you see? A bunch of people pretending to know what their sense of life is. What life is. I pray thee not to choose the path of a human. Stop living senseless lives of which you know none. It is written in your destiny you shall die. That is the sense of living – live to die. Whether you fancy it or not, I cannot tell. If not, change it. How? That’s up to thee.
Jim believed in democracy – there shouldn’t be a president. Total democracy. But you’ve seen this happening thru and thru. Never changing, everlasting. The problem here is shown: every single human being wants to rule, conquer, dominate the world. Wants to be almighty, powerful. I’m being stabbed. By a fucking pen. With a sharp or flat end. Doesn’t matter. It hurts so bad, it sets you free. A cell phone is used now. Pain, pain, pain. What?!? Stabbed pen. Feelings: none. Try giving a birth. Can’t? Shame. You will never know what does pain or hurt mean.
Enlighten me. Is it just me or am I not alone, who shares an opinion about buses and rides in general. In several countries, especially in the States, public transport in used normally by socially endangered people. Back there in my home town it’s a little different. I’m starting to realize, I have proper rights to feel the anxiety and to taste fear. l'm gonna kiss the snake on the tongue. Kiss the serpent. But if it senses fear… it’ll eat us instantly. But if we kiss it without fear… it'll take us through the garden. Through the gate. To the other side.
But why all this concern and terror and horror? If you really want to know, pay a visit to the northern country of ex-Yugoslavia. Now you know the answer. Still doesn’t ring any bells? Then pray the god to help thee. For fuck sake!! Why the fuck “god”. What is “god”, who invented it, who made it up? I don’t have a clue. I do not even care. “God” is maybe something at which regular people see the explanation for the unknown…
Now I failed… Of course. What did I expect. What was I thinking. J’e ne sais pas. It never happens – something good. Save one thing. She happened. Everything changed on that day. She brought light into the dark, cold world, in which I feel hated and unwanted even more than a spider in a relationship to an arachnophobe. The one and only thing that still keeps me between the living dead. Now I shall use one rotting and overused phrase: god knows what could’ve happened without the Light. It might have been death. Her eyes are blue going on light grey. Cannot move my eyes form hers. I have realized just about now how very, very much I adore her. No! That can be interpreted as me being obsessive and perverse. I like her very much – that will do. Never could have thought something like that was even possible for me to happen. Now I am happy. Oh my god… that sounds wicked… really… Who cares. And yet if there are people who disagrees with my… well, with me being with someone like that, I can only say – nothing. Don’t care what everybody thinks about me. I am not even slightly interested. Let them be. After all, I have always been, I am, and I will always be a damn, bloody ficus.
I thought finding someone who actually likes me will simply change that. I was wrong. Even though things turned on a little bit better side, I am still perfectly locked inside my self. Instead of oneness I feel isolation. At least I know I am alive – hopefully. Maybe if I spent all the time with her… I do not know. Doorgh… Bloody sentimental and emotive confessions. If somebody would listen to me, it can be heard I tend not to use the L word. I avoid using it. Simply because I do not know what the definition is. What does love mean? Well, it can be explained as a word said and used by people when they are horny. Ahh, people…
My only friend, who luckily cannot be heard nor seen by an average, wretched, fatuous and preposterous everyman, asked me why on Earth I hate people so much. All I can think of is only a couple of things. They are boring. All they ever do is shite. Besides living restless and stressful lives, they shit. Constantly repetitive patterns and habits.
Crikey! I am falling… The floor, the ground has disappeared. Only an enormous Black Hole below. Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe the lord wants to speak to me. Sweating. Oozing. Down and down. Cannot see the end.

What was that? I do not know. It was only a dream. I think I shat my pants. That was horrible. Merely hope I will never be able to experience something like that. I better stop insulting and criticizing everything that falls under may reach of sight. I better stop think about everything as being so contrasty, like black and white. Maybe I should start using my up till now probably never used rod cells. I am off now. Have to change my pants.

Kaj me boli kurac za ljudi okoli mene [Day 1]

»Kaj najbolj sovražiš?« me je vprašal prijatelj, ki je pravzaprav edini, v kolikor jih premorem. »Ljudi...« sem zamomljal.
»Kaj?«
»Čaj?«
»Kaj ima pa čaj veze z mojim vprašanjem?«
»Ali bi morala obstajati kakšna povezava?«
»Ali bi nehal odgovarjati na moje vprašanje z novim vprašanjem...«
»Ampak, čemu? Ali ne omogoča to veliko bolj zabavne komunikacije. Tako ali tako pa ljudje premalo komuniciramo... No ja, sicer pa mi prav nič ne manjka...«
»ZAKAJ SOVRAŽIŠ LJUDI?«
»Pazi, no na moje zvočne membrane, nahajajoče se v srednjem ušesu...«
»JEBI SE! Prav na kurac mi greš s takšnimi izjavami. Vedno moraš vse v najmanjše detajle opisat.«
»Imaš kaj proti takemu početju?«
»DA! Si se kdaj vprašal, če je SPLOH komu všeč? Mislim, da ne. Če še meni ni. Meni, ki je tvoj edini up. Sem zadnji na... Sem pač zadnji, ki te je pripravljen poslušat in na sploh gledat. Ahh, zakaj te to sprašujem, če pa vem odgovor že v naprej...«
»In to je?«
»... Čakaj, razmišljam...«
»O?«
»O tem, kakšno frazo bi uporabil, da ne bi zgledala banalna, izumetničena, afektirana, manirirana, koturna, preciozna, priskutna...«
»Pa koji kurec... A sedaj si pa že slovar ratal, ali kaj?«
»No ja, ne da bi se hvalil, ampak...«
»Ne sili se! Samo povej že, ker mi greš na žolč izločajoči organ!«
»Uau, ta ni slaba...«
»Vem. Spravi že to iz sebe.«
»Skratka. Popolnoma vseeno ti je kaj si ljudje mislijo. Na... pač grejo ti na tiso, kar si omenil. Karkoli je že bilo. Nima veze.«
»Saj nič nima veze...«
»Nič je nič. Definiraj najprej kaj je ta nič po tvoje...«
»Ne bodi kot jaz in se ne spotikaj ob vsako, ravnokar izrečeno sogovorčevo besedo!«
»Prav. Se bom potrudil. LoL«
»ZBIJ SI TA TVOJ GLUP NASMEŠEK Z OBRAZA, ki ti sega do ušes. In nehaj uporabljati 1 3 3 7, amm 5 P 3, amm, 4 K.«
»Huh?«
»Never mind...«

»Bom prvi prekinil to neprijetno tišino. Skratka, kje sva ostala? Aha, ravno si mi hotel povedati zakaj sovražiš ljudi.«
»Ker so dolgočasni.«
»Elaboriraj.«
»...Čakaj, da razmislim...«
»Ne me sedaj zajebavat!«
»Tiho bodi. Te bom razsvetlil.«
»No...?«
»Ljudje so najmanj vredna vrsta. Kar poglej jih.«
»Jih gledam...«
»To je resna stvar!«
»Aha. Nadaljuj...«
»Vse kar počnejo je to, da serjejo. Nič drugega, za razliko od drugih živalskih in rastlinskih vrst, ki dejansko počnejo kaj zanimivega in zanje upo...«
»Dejansko?!?«
»...rabnega. Kaj zdaj spet?«
»Oprosti, samo ne vem kateri del stavka naj bi bil zanimiv. Kar nadaljuj.«
»Čakaj. Tiho bodi. Nekdo prihaja. Mislim, da mamica in bo spet zatežila s kakim šrinkom, ker bo mislila, da se spet pogovarjam sam s seboj. Jutri nadaljujeva.«

***

Favourite part of the world

Favourite part of the world

There are many places, hidden and untouched parts of the world. Places wherea human being has not yet set his hands free, let them overrun the nature. Maybe these are my favourite. I will try to elaborate on that, if you will.

The human society is pretty much boring. Everything looks the same. Well, there may be some differences after all, but it still does not change the fact. The world is becoming more and more colonized by one big crapy culture. Due to globalization mankind is losing its power. No matter where you go, you will be able to draw some parallel lines between randomly selected places. The differences are fading. Formerly separated countries have now, let me say, united into one “thing” – nature killer.

However, there are still some places that set you free. Trees and bushes all around you. No civilization, no buildings, no vehicles, no streets… no people. Unfortunately, these parts are not so common as I would have wished them to be. Rain forest or dessert to live free for at least a day. I was in a dessert once, myself. I felt the universe functioning perfectly. But I was still perfectly locked inside myself. Instead of oneness, I felt isolation. At that time I knew I was alive. I could feel it. Not like in enormous towns, in which all I felt was pressure an loneliness pushing me down to the ground. Un able to breath or just simply – dwell. It is boring lives that we live. Wake up in the morning, go to work or school, get back and go to sleep. neverending, everlasting habit.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man needs and wants more and more. Always desperately in need of something. That is why every single tree is cut down, all the fresh lands destroyed. We need space. But why? Was it always like that? I think it just a result of spreading capitalism. Even Shakespeare thought that. There is a line of Juliet’s: “The more I give to thee, the more I have.” The more I invest, the more I get. But I’m not really in the mood to discuss that, so let us just leave it.

In conclusion, the untouched places are my favourite, just because I can be alone, far away from all the troubles in the dying world. And that is why I want to live in the loose palace of exile, far, far away. No one really knows what could have happened without those free and never trespassed lands. In my devouring consciousness they have always existed despite its digesting power. Not for sure, but it might have been death.

Poezija - Oda Fikusu

Oda Fikusu

počutim se kot fikus
fikus fikusira
stoji in nič ne dela
...

do dveh bom jutri spal
učil se preostali dan
ko noč zamenja dan
ne bom pretirano ga sral
in spat odšel bom spet

ob dveh vstal bom sam
tudi v soboto
ponovil to kar želel si bom sam
in tudi v nedeljo
existenco svojo fikus zaključil bo.

ovenel zaradi pomanjkanja bo nege
ne bo, ne bo ga več
zdrizasto rjave barve na vrh' komposta ležal bo
kjer po življenja koncu zaudarja
ni ga srah njegovega rudarja

lahko živeči fikus v depresijo pade?
da...
lahko kdaj se spravi ven?
ne...
...

šel bi v puščavo
daleč stran v to goščavo
sabo nosil fikus bi
ga na žgoče sonce postavil bi
sred' ničesar kar žgalo bi
opazoval ga bi

opazoval
...
opazoval

dokler zadnje kaplje ne iztisnil bi
dokler izsušil se ne bi
....
blahh...

Poezija - Stuff Dies

Stuff Dies

She cried because her plant died
Don't worry, said I

Stuff dies
Like hamsters
And dope plants
And grandmas

After that
She never spoke to me
Again

In what we dwell

In what we dwell

I am the lizard king!

I can do anything!

Raise your hands if you understand.

Let's take a poll. How many of you know you're alive?

Bullshit!

You're plastic soldiers in a miniature dirt war.

Come on!

How many of you people know you're alive?

See it. All the history of the world...

Is on its scales.

All people. All actions.

We're all just little pictures in the scales.

…

…

Anarchy.

Complete, total anarchy.

That’s what I want, what I believe in, in what I trust. Hate the phrase: “In god we trust. In god we believe”. Hate the people. Hate the trees hate the plants… hate the world. All the history of the world is on its scales. All the people. All the actions. We’re all just little pictures in the scales. We’re plastic soldiers in a miniature dirt war.

Why anarchy? Take a look at this effete world you dwell in today. What do you see? A bunch of people pretending to know what their sense of life is. What life is. I pray thee not to choose the path of a human. Stop living senseless lives of which you know none. It is written in your destiny you shall die. That is the sense of living – live to die. Whether you fancy it or not, I cannot tell. If not, change it. How? That’s up to thee.

Jim believed in democracy – there shouldn’t be a president. Total democracy. But you’ve seen this happening thru and thru. Never changing, everlasting. The problem here is shown: every single human being wants to rule, conquer, dominate the world. Wants to be almighty, powerful.

I’m being stabbed. By a fucking pen. With a sharp or flat end. Doesn’t matter. It hurts so bad, it sets you free. A cell phone is used now. Pain, pain, pain. What?!? Stabbed pen. Feelings: none. Try giving a birth. Can’t? Shame. You will never know what does pain or hurt mean.

Enlighten me. Is it just me or am I not alone, who shares an opinion about buses and rides in general. In several countries, especially in the States, public transport in used normally by socially endangered people. Back there in my home town it’s a little different. I’m starting to realize, I have proper rights to feel the anxiety and to taste fear. l'm gonna kiss the snake on the tongue. Kiss the serpent. But if it senses fear… it’ll eat us instantly. But if we kiss it without fear… it'll take us through the garden. Through the gate. To the other side.

But why all this concern and terror and horror? If you really want to know, pay a visit to the northern country of ex-Yugoslavia. Now you know the answer. Still doesn’t ring any bells? Then pray the god to help thee. For fuck sake!! Why the fuck “god”. What is “god”, who invented it, who made it up? I don’t have a clue. I don’t even care. “God” is maybe something at which regular people see the explanation for the unknown…

Now I failed… Of course. What did I expect. What was I thinking. J’e ne sais pas. It never happens – something good. Save one thing. She happened. Everything changed on that day. She brought light into the dark, cold world, in which I feel hated and unwanted even more than a spider in a relationship to an arachnophobe. The one and only thing that still keeps me between the living dead. Now I shall use one rotting and overused phrase: god knows what could’ve happened without the Light. It might have been death.

Poezija - No.3

The End - Me & Jim Morrison

The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall

And he went into the room where his sister lived
And he walked inside her room
And he lay down on her bed
And he lay her on her back
And he slid her shirt off
And he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and slid those down
And he pulled off her bra, and he

He pulled her panties, and then he
Stuck his dick inside of her and fucked his sister for an hour
And then he, payed a visit to his brother, and he
Walked inside his brothers room
And lay down next to him
His cold hand slid down his shiny skin
Hot, nude, undressed...

The sanke was glazed and shrunken
Was not afraid to touch it

(sth. is written by me, sth. mr. Morrison - Florida)

Poezija - No.2

No.2

In front the blackboard
Sun should be shining
She just said: wierd
Leather boots, leather pants

Poezija - No.1

No.1

Three laughing rats
Jump from the prison
I've seen her... once...
It's monday

Reading books in less fun then watching TV

Form generation to generation lifestyles are different along with the human population. Today's youth spends most of the time in front of TV instead of picking up a book from time to time. Is once very admired, prevailing and approved literature being neglected? There are various reasons as to why books are losing their power and authority.

If you want to sell many products, the best way to do it is through advertising. All you need is a great, colourful, influential, effective text, a picture of the product and a reasonable price. In every newspaper, magazine, in every advertisement and notice board, nowdays, you can see a TV. No wonder so many are sold every single day. It is true that it is recommended to travel with time, so you do not look like a caveman. But still, is that the reason why most people do not even want to take a look at books or simply let alone reading them? Luckily, in schools we are given tasks to read, but still many of them stay dusty, lying on some looks like abandoned bookshelfs. I can tell from my own experience that a lot of pupils do not read them. They just »write« the report that has to be written. By »write« i mean »copy«.

I can say I understand why watching TV is more fun. It is easier to watch than read because visual impulses are processed faster. When you read it is extremely important to focus on what you read. To get a picture in your brain, letters have to be translated and the process takes longer.

However, many books are about real events from the past, the author gives his or her opinion and with it he teaches the reader something new. Crime an Punishment, for instance. Dostoevsky explains to us you cannot commit a crime without feeling guilty. No human is strong enough to bear such a heavy burden. On the other hand, TV is used to relax. It will never teach you anything new, unless you watch Discovery Channel. There is a rumour saying: »TV lies!«, and that is true. Furthermore, I am sure, dear reader, you have seen some action movies showing main actors performing stunning stunts. In real life these are impossible. Instead of filling your brain with unreal and impossible, you should rather take a book in to your hands.

All in all, I am not saying you must read literature, I just heartily recommend it because if you intend to be part of »high society«, you will certainly need that knowledge. What is more fun is up to you, dear reader. You can either become »dummy« or a well educated person, but I think books are funnier only if they are comedies. I would rather say reading literature is more intelectual and interesting.

Kako stlačiti dežnik v šolsko omarico

Kako stlačiti dežnik v šolsko omarico? Hmm... obstaja ogromno načinov.

Vse se je zacelo letos, ko smo tretjesolcki na GimBu fasal nove omarice, ki so prav bedne, beri majhne. Na zalost niso taksne kot smo pricakovali in sicer v ameriskem stilu. Se pravi da so dovolj prostorne, da se lahko vanjo tudi skrijes, če je nuja in kar pa meni zelo veliko pomeni, da lahko po povsem normalnem, humanem in preprostem postopku postavim svoj dezni scit v sveto omarico oz. locker, kakor jim recejo slabo hrano jedoce kreature z zahoda. Ze ko sem te omarice uzrl, me je presel strah, kajti zbal sem se, da bo deznik prevelik in ne bo mogel biti zadegan vanje. In glej ga zlomka, naslednji dan je lilo kot mačke in psi, zategadelj sem bil primoran vzeti deznik s seboj. Zjutraj sem razmisljal, ali bi vzel prenosno marelo ali ne. Kapaciteta iz oblakov izlite vode je bila kakopak enormna, kar me je prisililo vzeti deznik normalne velikosti. Arghh... kok je men bet u lajfu... sploh se ne zavedam, da bi moral pisati kako stlaciti marelo v lokerje in ne pa o tem kako in zakaj je do tega prislo, ololol.

Torej kako je vprasanje. Hja, odgovor pa le ni tako preprost. Sam sem se kar posteno spotil, preden sem nasel odgovor. Najprej sem probaval, da bi jo vtaknil pod kaksnim kotom, saj se je že na uc videlo, da tako ne bo sla v omarico. Torej tu je ze prvi nasvet: probaj pod kotom. Preteklo je se kar nekaj casa, preden mi je kapnilo, da bi jo lahko tudi obesil. In sicer na neko policko, ki je tam popolnoma brez razloga. Prostor nad njo je namrec premajhen, da bi tja karkoli vtaknil, mogoce kaksen zvezek ali dva. Slednja zamisel je fenomenalna, idealna, kakor hočete, saj ne zavzame volumna omarice. Pac samo visi takoj za vrati in ne moti ostale vsebine. Tako da toplo priporocam obesanje marele na to poličko. Meni je vsec.

Sem se pa tudi domislil se necesa, kar bi mi lahko prineslo tudi nekaj dobicka. Kapnilo mi je, da bi lahko lokerje oddajal za denarce. Tarifa pa bi lahko znasala okoli 1 evro na mesec. O tem ali je to prevec ali ne, ne mislim diskutirati. Ker veliko kreatur potrebuje take reci, lahko ceno se dvignem in to brez problema [zloben smeh]. V omarico lahko naselim par ali dva osebkov, ki si lepo pravicno razdelijo stroske enega evra, jaz pa veselo stopicam po svetu z zvenketom v zepih.