The days of dizzying madness among the people during the holidays flowed down the calendar, and the calendar flowed into the crotch of light women, one quick death, and whiskey. The city was so beautifully reflected in the rainy street under that same sky with the crescent moon in the canopy of intertwined roofs. I just sat and watched that picture of that evening idyll, while music came from all over the city, and stayed somewhere down the street. I am completely me. It crossed my mind that as a child I was afraid that one day i would be left alone, under the open sky. It seems that we never overcome some fears,.. I'm far from happy people tonight, but I'm in a good place to watch them. I will stay until the morning, and on the way back I give myself rehearsals and nights without rest. And to forgotten poets… I promise. A couple of wrinkles appeared on my face, like some disgust with the newly set standard and principles of life which occurs in every form of humanity. Money, cars, sex with plastic women and countless sexual aids, around which the planet revolved, .. The nights changed almost like the promises, sometimes bright and warm, sometimes rainy and cold, but certainly short and worthless, and seriously ill ... But what to do, such are the nights in the Balkans, the barrel of gunpowder of the poor and thieves. What a beautiful night, blessed is the one who has the last ...
And roll on;
It began as a whisper, and cold fingers without blood, they hug every day that comes. A pandemic and petty-bourgeois trepidation, conflicts within me. Your eyes, fall on me like a warm summer rain, I stand on that slap, drums beat in the heart and playing a happy role, even though I'm falling apart.
God, the years gather and multiply, and they are already wrinkles on the face of the eternal boy; - Wake up- shake up- make up! And one pearl in the dust go into oblivion, Darkness in theatre, so much silence that i hear what has never been said, here, or anywhere, anytime or never . In the mirror is crowd again; Me, myself and I
Everything changes and everything passes like daylight before complete dark. We become conscious, but unscrupulous; -exercising pleasure to the numbness of the senses, like when darkness catches you far away in the woods. Moscow, Russia, the hungry stomach of the world, walks at night and the cold spreads through the centuries, like the vampires of every theater we will not enter. And I did everything to disgust you. I played for applause, for eyes that can't see. Played for food, for deaf ears. And wrote love songs, for people who hate. And spoke the words of a dead mouth...
How equal master and the slave are in evil. How simple life is on this soil.
In my head, the tenant answered; I pay the rent in advance until May; The carousel rises, and spins. Texts, plays, roles, mirrors, makeup's, smiles, cries, costumes, dawns, days, midnights, questions "why", "where", "how", lunar eclipse, solar eclipse, star eclipse and the universe gathers around my head, whatever, Show must go on; My eclipse; The lights come on; The curtain rises; and life arises after death. I took the mask and go on the stage; Laughter, applause and fun begin again.
And remember: it will never stop - oil wars - false democracy - riots in the east - migrants, - vaccines, - a trip to the moon, - a cure for cancer - serial killers, - rasism, breaking news flooded the world And it will never stop. Tonight I go out on stage, and let the dead words into immortality; - "Who will bury me?"