http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLN_UanuUTs
One more experiment.
Experiments, facts, truth of higher instance.
There is no such thinhs as facts.
Expecially here.
All this is someone's idiotic invention.
Don't you feel it ?
But you, of course, must find out whose invention it is.
and why.
What good can your knowledge do ?
Who is going to get guilty conscience because of it? Me ?
I have got no conscience.
I just got nerves.
Some bastards would criticize me, I get wounded.
Another would laud me, I get wounded again.
I would put my heart and soul in it, the gobble up both my heart and soul.
I wouuld relieve my soul of filth, they gobble it up too.
They are all so literate.
They all got sensory deficiency.
and they are all swarming around, journalists, editors, critics, some endless broads.
and they all demand: more. more !!!
What hell of a writer I am if I hate writing ?
If it is constant torment for me, a painful, shameful occupation, sort of squeezing out a hemorrhiods.
I used to think that someone would get better because of my books.
No, nobody needs me !
In two days after I die they will start gobbling up someone else.
I wanted to change them, but it is they who have changed me.
Making me in their own image.
The future used to be just a continuation of the present, with all the changes looming far behind the horizon.
Now the future and the present are one.
Are they ready for it ?!
They don't want to know anything !
All they know is how to gobble !
Stalker: Gush ! How lucky you are ! My goodness, now .. You are going to live a hundred years !
Writer: Yes. But why not forever ? Like the eternal Jew.
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