I connect to the internet for 14 minutes. I give up. Signal appears, I click, loading, connect, loading, loading... some kind of an ugly mark with the red cross at the bottom appears, let's go again, i saw all of that happening before, so, I click again, wait... I wait, nothing, I click again... new hope, the dots are moving, I wait... again the same mark, until it changes to an icon of a regular signal with a small star at the top meaning there's no internet. Am I spoiled or pretentious for being nervous about it? Children in Africa are not very well after all. I comfort myself that I have the right to be anxious because it's about milionth time this being happening to me. In fact, one solid phase, retrospectively, of my life can be named: poor signal with connection disturbance. Not only internet, but a mobile phone too, broken touch screen not having half of letters which makes writing slower than donkey taking a walk, and when i think just how many important, mattering messages I've sent with such a phone, in crucial moments, in saving of a love relationships or borrowing money with many promises and explanations. Isn't it crazy and weird and funny and sacred to be a writer and/or artist and to live such an aburdities of which other people (working class not giving a fuck about madness) only hunch about to be real somewhere in foggy sealed corners of their subconciousness (unawareness). Really, I am thinking that subconciousness cannot be sealed, it can only for a subject, but for an object it never does have to be, since it expresses itself (channeling) on various visible and mesurable ways. As I explained it to Niki day before yesterday: You see, when you want to remember where have you put some object that you'll be needing once in a hundred years, then when you put it you do this (and i wawe throguh the air with this screwdriver silly maniacally and funny, clumsy before I put it in a basket on a table (close to the doors where it doesn't belong but I would never forget where it is) and I explain to her the whole mechanics and understanding of psychology, the naked SCIENCE of such a procedure, and she understands it satisfied).
Magical and friendly mystic mornings of poor sleep after last nights drunk party but with smooth feeling in stomach and I have to emphasize, this is not my first morning like this so that I blabble nonsense, I already know that taste and that ovum of a center of a feeling and experience and I nuke from this occurings a nonmeasurable joyfull inspiration and the smaller one, defintely mesurable but not less intensive, satisfaction of playing with an alchemy of every single phonem and his friends while I compose the notes of a morning lyrics in prose for the ears that like sweet sounds and many sonuds. More meanings at once. Mega meanings at once. I don't want to tire anyone's mind; it may be that writings like this one are only for those who have gone crazy long ago because of tehniques and skills and practices and follow carefully every letter with shivers raging through their uncounciouss abdomen and diafragma. That's how I read it, when somebody really writes. When there is stuff to notice, every notch echoes with the most important importances and the trick being smaller makes the change in sound and then in meaning and then in strength - bigger. That's the science for all those faggots that say less is more (some were saying to ma that as a musician I play too may notes, Oh Lord the idiots and those who say good job to them in their lifes, to those who bullshit about music to me) and don't understand 2 naked dicks.
Mobile phones, internet, televisions and video games, signals, screens, antennas - all those together radiate very much and mean very much. If something radiates then it takes out the air, maybe in molecules, atoms, but definitely changes the structure of naked air and some graet masters of knowledge explained perfectly the importance of air, it chemical funtions in organism, psychochemical, psycho, psychologically children.
Ah, who can feel those fine differences in organism but those who have been wrong about it a hundred times, and then been right for once. Once we went to Zagreb, me and him and her, friends, full of money we were so we were dazzling cheerfully ravishing between the market and the apartment, up and down grabbing paulaner weissbeer and some weed and I cooked and I think I cooked so - so, as I remember propertly, but hunger never asks, and that's why we did have a good time and I was in a relationship then and some sweet little chick came and back then I had to think really hard about that "relationship" and understand that I don't have to think about anything and should've been getting on a job with her, but I didn't, and now there was four of us and we were loud and it waa very nice and we opened our souls to each other and in a moment that we left the building, towards the bars, i felt it... i feel it... in the air... not good... they fucked up somewhere, the gas is leaking somewhere! Huge amounts of gas have leaked in this hood right in our building but nobody notices anything because everybody are already high on it, and on fluor and on TV, al fucking screens, schools, hospitals, drugs antidepressives and just stupid and not interested enough and they even want... THEY WANT TO BE GASSED, THEY WANT TO DIE SAYING: EVERYTHING IS AS THEY TOLD US IT IS AND WHOEVER OPRESSES IT DESERVES INSTANT LOBOTOMY. I really felt huge amounts of gass smell in the air, and I have a precise smell feeling like a hunting dog, just in human dimensions of that comparision. And I say to my friends, in that drunkness and madness and weed high: do you feel it? And they proclaim me crazy and laugh to me about it but little by little they intake the panic and we move toward the flat quickly, like, in flat we're the most safe (new, fat building, it's like a cave and apartments are somehow really pushed in; it was winter, windows are not opet, in flat we go, well, don't we?) and we sit down and they keep laughing to me but now they are revealed. However, why not, why wouldn't gass be leaking? Who's attention keeps it from happenig? Old bold 65 year old grandpa that got promoted to his job 40 years ago because his godfather was in UDBA in Yugoslavia and he arranged that he gives dozen of blowjobs to some faggot higher officier for it? Smart people don't belive in system. Because it's rotten. Because it's constalations are rusty. Because all the time there is some fucking up. It's not the nature of human beings, it's low attention and care about the science, of every kind. More and more the quantum and molecular science is being gloryfied, fucking abstract, while real practical everyday science has been lead to a minimum and faced to apsurdisation of comparision with quantum and molecular science, been pushed in a second plain. Good ol geography, huh? Good old sociology! Oh boy.
