gomi #6

hahaha.

soooo tired.

00:13:29 left till my 60 rubles run out.

hands still scratched up. nice cat but still.

head heavy. hell… that’s what russian trains are like these days. left with a fever yay i’m out in a museum with my father. supposedly. he’s about, i dunno, 1000 km away.

hahaha.

i hate lying. but i also hate being a pawn in like three separate games. four. more, even.

syeryozhka, nice kid. used to team up against bartoshyonok back in the good old days. going nowhere and he knows it. family trouble? “an excuse.” (transl.) ya i suppose. but fuck if that is just an excuse no one has a right to complain about anything. yet here i am.

labeling things doesn’t work here. just doesn’t work. plastic bag on the pavement. sweet mushroom – nostalgia. now just a cast-off shell.

the cold is softer here. i love the cold. my throat hurts. and i’m really fucking sleepy. american music at an american-style place in the center of a village that was once leningrad. looking games on the subway… how can i hate a city after that.

i don’t hate. i get pissed off but i don’t hate. where is this headed. where am i headed?

japan. a chess game – you have to think ten moves ahead. but i’m tired of moving. it’s such bs when i’m in a place like this.

what do you wanna do?

“live.”

okay.

 “live normally.”

fuck.

backtrack twelve hours. i can skate, i can skate. with good skates i’d be awesome hahaha.

still missing some skin ’round my ankles. skin… so thin. so fragile. a cat can puncture it. a sheet of paper can cut it. a blade of grass might as well be made of steel – it makes no difference.

i sit down and watch and it hurts but i know the cut will heal cuz i’ve already seen it heal. it’s been years since it healed. but now the bone is showing. there is no pain but everyone is bothered. why is everyone always fucking bothered by fucking everything.

FUCKING CHILL.

i’m done. i’m only getting started.

00:03:32

*snow crash* and i find myself looking inside, at a microcosm drowning in white noise.