Gregory Corso's tombstone

Spirit
is life
It flows thru
the death of me
endlessly
like a river
unafraid
of becoming
the sea

a poem by Patti Smith

The empty hand of innocence
transfusing street of the sorrows
and children of the wood
Hounded, shredding all veils
and winding all sheets of the dead world droning
Overturning tables laden with silver sacrificial birds
Beating goat-skin drums
Advancing with hands out-stretched
and we keep filling them with mercury nitrate, asbestos
Baby bombs blasting blue
Scavengers picking through the ashes
Children of the mills!
Children of the junkyards!
Sleepy, illiterate, fuzzy little rats
haunted, paint-sniffin',
stoned out of their shaved heads
Forgotten, foraging, mystical children
Foul-mouthed, glassy eyed, hallucinating

Ballad of Owl

Everyone in sleep. Just like every night. My life isn't like clubbers. It's my turn for living during that time. Nobody can see, nobody can hear me. I always hide at corners. I am going to fly between their high buildings and stop on the roof of a tree. Little kids may afraid of my tweets but I sing the song of nights. They won't know the joy of flying birds. Parents say "If you wouldn't sleep, Owl will come". I am sad for kids. They will never see in real my wings are so much beautiful. Because they can see me only at zoo or on TV.
Nightlife guys wearing masks. Richmen stealing the dreams of children. Those wines they drunken goes to canalizations.
All those prostitutes, transvestites fucking right now. For what? For to live better.Hey you! If you're listening my ballad, respect them! They never lied for to live better.
Page will turn...

What to Follow: Heart or Mind?

Soon or later you have to think about the future, but not tomorrow’s future or even in a year, but about the future for your children, for their well-being. Now I’m at the moment when I can decide where to go, where to live, where to work and finally where to settle. And you know what? That’s a real problem! First of all, it’s not a big surprise that my possibilities are pretty modest and limited. The second, the place where I would like to work, the place where I would like to live and the place where I would like to bring up children are absolutely different places! Just there is nothing common in them! :D

Personal potential, ambitions and career demand a well-developed big city with a lot of opportunities. For children it’s the best variant as well, because even if it’s too urbanized way to live and be raised, but they will not have a complex of small towns, they will not have a deep desire to move out. Of course, there is nothing bad in it, absolutely; they are free to choose the place, to move in search of happiness and self-realization. But it's another story,

At the same time my soul and heart want to be in a calm place, somewhere amongst Ireland landscapes or on the Island, where are only the sun, the sea, greens and trees, and small house, of course, or maybe even not so small :D Yes, it’s an «idiot’s dream», I know. And moreover it’s not inherent to me, because I hate to be lazy, I constantly need to do something, especially to work, but maybe because I work too much, I want to taste this life. I don’t know. As well as I don’t know where to go and what to follow: my heart or my brain. Once, our teacher said about «kokoro», what could be translated or adapted (more or less) like «clever heart» and sometimes I envy (in a good sense) the one, who has it or who was able to achieve this condition.

Decayed Leaf (starring A. Camus)

One night in Marseille, I met my friend from university. We talked about our days at university. He was a goalkeeper and I was the stopper of the football team of university. We started to argue about what's the assignment of footballers in the pitch. He was goalkeeper, that's why he had seen a wider area of the football pitch than me. After that delighted arguement we lit our cigarettes and walked down to the port. The autumn wind blew the orange leaves on the port. I was staring at laughing young girls. He was looking at the sea and paced on a dry leaf. He stopped through the rustle, and he asked "What's the purpose of a leaf?"

I: In 4th grade, my teacher asked "what's the purpose of a leaf?" at an exam.
C: What did you say?
I: Not to fall.
C: Oh my gosh! Not to fall...
I: 0 point.
C: What a shit. He gave 0 point for this answer?
I: Eeehh... I didn't say something like photosynthesis.
C: Why does a leaf photosynthesis?
I: Again same answer. To live.
C: But how to live? There is a life and there is another life. Our kinda life. If it calls "to live".
I: What do men live by?
C: By the code to hurt others, hurt and destroy.
I: In that case, a leaf decays on tree.
C: Although it decayed, it stays on there.
I: It's like the heart of a human. Look! I think your heart is decayed, and stinky.
C: Merciless...
I: Loveless...
C: Unfair...
I: Bland...
C: Heartless...
I: Deficient...
C: Greedy...
I: And alone.
C: What do men live by during their life?
I: Their business is to hurt, to steal, to beat it. Thus, you can live in this world.
C: Not like this.

There Are No Accidents

Day by day you live, spend or waste your time, doing everything or doing nothing or doing something to convince everybody around, that you’re so busy. Each day turns to night, each summer turns to winter. Something makes you happy, something makes you upset, something makes you even down. Somebody betrays you and for that moment you’re thinking that your life finished, but then time passes, seasons change, and you just can’t remember why your reaction was so hard, so silly for now?

We don’t notice how any small detail can create our future, how it can change everything. With time we look back and saw all these detail, all these accidents, what led us to what we have now. And it’s getting so obvious for us, but if you begin the countdown, you would be surprised, how it happens! Probably two years ago in this day you felt so troublous, and in some days after you cried as never before, because your World, created by you and your fantasy, crushed down. Maybe the last year it was easier and you had a hope to change everything, but it didn’t happen and for that moment you again was so upset. And then you just lived, not expecting anything, went with it all, and … accidents started to work. All smiles and all tears, all hopes and all fears, all problems and all solutions, all loses and all wins weren’t accident. They created you, who you’re today. Do you like who you are, btw? :)

The things above are obvious, aren’t? But what’s curious, you can realize it all, but you still can’t start to notice these meaningful details or accidents in time! Yesterday or today you was and are again upset about something, for example, about refusal from get a job or about the lack of possibility to go somewhere you want right then. What’s the problem? The problem is in perception, but we all know about the theory of half glasses, about pessimism and optimism. We all know that it’s easier to see something bad than something good. Is it an accident or not? There is no receipt to be happy, you can’t be an optimist, if you used to see something wrong or if you used to see more risks than others, and you can’t stop be an optimist, if you perceive the life easier than others. So, what to do? Maybe it’s worth to prepare everything what’s going from the both sides, from all the minuses and all the pluses? Isn’t it so boring? And would not accidents stop being so attractive, when they weave something?

No one advice can change you and say how to live, and you will not change, you will stay yourself, but you will not notice, how accidents changed you ;)

Joker vs. Batman

Which one is bad? Which one is good?
A man who laughs? Or a rich man who knows martial arts?
Firstly, laugh not bad act. Colourful clothes, childish but sensitive. His painted face may look horrible, but also may not. Irresponsible parents and not a crime of the child. If his dad cut his cheeks, he is innocent. Asylum doesn’t where bad people visited. The mad clown robbed the bank, but later? The clown distributed the money to charity. He is kinda like Robin Hood. His genius comes from madness. His jokes aren’t funny? Ok, I agree. Sometimes his jokes can be disturbing. But if life is a short joke, you turn to be a mad.
That sounds like nihilism.

Let’s get to know the so-called hero. The one and only son of a rich family. Living in a mansion. Good study. Wearing beautiful clothes. But one day a thief killed his parents. Why did the thief steal? He needed money. What people have money more than they need? The rich ones. Go ahead and take a cup of tea. He learned martial arts. On top of the mountain. He wears a mask, a black costume. Fighting against the criminals. Ok, somebody punishes the criminals. Does a rich man effects the lives of poor people?
We don’t play the thief-police.
Both can’t choose how they were raised.