by pascal dumont
Karl Marks Alee 134
Dear Henry Miller
In our country there is a significant civil disorder. Some people hid in caves and watch the developments from the TV screen, they are numb and dizzy from tryings of different politicians or simple people to make out of this small country a nice picture. But they watch TV! And I am afraid of such little people, they are trailing me and enticing to their side –they are – fucking conservatives, they are employees on the jobs, to which they should come without delay and leave on time, they are listeners of the boring adventures and slowed-down pace of life, they – describers of lives of others who are not like them. You know, it seems, I see through their homes, their bedrooms and rooms and there are TVs and piles of newspapers that play the same game as they do; those like them crack sunflower seeds at home in the evening , and along with them have their cats and dogs – keeping animals only as somebody who would listen to their dissatisfaction with life, at night they pray to their God, I do not know why they pray, but in their place I would not pray – unlikely anyone will help. Those like them were and will be there at all times! And at all times they will be verbally oppressed, they will not be physically touched – they will come and just the same way in anger with the whole world they will leave this world. They will not be missed. Too bad that they give birth to children and give into hands of those children their cards of rules for life. Leaving for the country weak people!
These days I love other sons and daughters. Those whom I love have burning eyes – their eyes burn from the time when they came into the world. Those whom I love unconsciously say that they are as well not interested in life of my country, but with every step they build, not mentioning and perhaps without realizing that those like them are really the only ones who build. Those whom I love are beautiful – visually. Those whom I love paint pictures of large sizes, sometimes neither they nor I particularly understand that picture, but the pleasure of big stokes and watching the work is on both sides. Those whom I love, love sex or may be porn. Those whom I love, love drinking ungodly and spend time on all sorts of most stupid things, and let it be so, because this world is stupidity herself, they say. Those whom I love, a hundred times a day contradict themselves. But go on with living and love those who are like me.
If it is about monuments, I would put only monuments to those whom I love. I would like to put memorials on the roofs of tall buildings, not land. And I would have told about the monuments only to those who love. So this way my delightsome living people went around on the ground, and their steel prototypes would glorify at the highs of urban buildings or business centers.
All the best,
Sasha Shagi
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