[3:51 PM] vitalyb1984: yes. It is so dauntinc @ twitter that it is so public
[3:51 PM] vitalyb1984: yet if it was private I prob wouldn’t write
[3:52 PM] Eli: daunting?
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: yes
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: I can’t write personal stuff
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: so I write about doplhins having nasal sex. E.g:
“Nasal Sex – Amazon River Dolphins perform homosexual penetration of the blowhole, the only known example of nasal sex.” 4:06 AM Nov 21st 2008
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: instead of what really worries me
[3:52 PM] Eli: er yeah
[3:52 PM] Eli: …
[3:52 PM] Eli: you could be ambiguous
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: right
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: I was.
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: It wasn’t the dolphins who had nasal sex.
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: BAM
March 28, 2009
March 24, 2009
I’m having an argument with someone from workplace. We agree to settle our differences by a 3rd party, in this case, his girlfriend. She declares me guilty and I lie down on a rack. He starts to punch the rack from behind, eventually PUNCTURING my the rack, my back and having a bloody hand come from my chest.
I wake up. More WTFed than scared then go back to sleep.
I am amongst some kind of horrible African natives (strangely, they are white) that say I must set myself on fire and die for them to communicate with their Gods. I try to argue but they convince me with their logic. I get out a box of matches, lit one and press it against my chest, not much happens however. The African natives start giving me tips, “Try burning somewhere with hair!”, “Try your armpit!”, “The pubic area!”. Eventually someone gives a good tip, “Try to lit the hair! You have lots of it!”. Soon enough I catch fire and nothing of me remains except some dust and the brains.
The brain is taken to some sort of futuristic lab in which it is analyzed to understand more about my life traumas. The interfaces shows that I was anally raped when I was 11. Quite shocked to discover that fact I try to recollect what happened then and I recall of some wedding I attended in which, indeed, I was raped by the wedding go-go dancer.
I wake up again. This time to go to work.
March 11, 2009
June 9, 2008
“She wants nothing more than to be a little whore. He wants nothing less but to wear a little dress.”
Scenes from a trip memory…
Two great guys lying on a mountain at the Monfort. No wait, lemme restart.
One great guy wakes in the morning to find that his great friends deserted him in PALMAH graveyard (well, it wasn’t funny for him, but boy we laughed all the way).
Two girls disappear in the horizon, behind, guarding them, two great guys gravely walk behind. “Defend the women, the fire and the brandy!” (not seriously. But I do miss the brandy).
Suddenly moments of tired drunkenness. When you drink with a honest heart, it fills the void. You leave the time and discover the 4th dimension. You can move without walking which is great, because your hurt legs can’t take another step.
I am drunk, and drunkness in the 4th dimension is all you need.
Clara….. No wait, it is Vitaly.