Sublime.

I mean, basicly she was a bitch. And she was not affraid to admit it. Not at all. There were days when she abounded in self-confidence more than ever and hence her actions and behaviour was even more unbearable let alone acceplable or exvusable than on any other occassion. None the less, as it is understood by the mere context together with her ati- and apti-tude, she did not care. These wee tiny bitches were in a more than pitiful condition and position happening to be[come] the victims of hers, at the time in particular. They should have felt honoured that she chose them as the aim of attack thogh they were not wise not to mention sensible enough to appreciate it. Time's the proverbial enemy but it seemed that for her it was taking it back so that her riposte was cut sharp and edgy, provided always in the nick of time. And so some people paid for thrills but she got her for free. She was just so, brief, concise and to the point. Sublime as they tend to call it in the realms of American literature of some time ago. more to the point, no other bitch has had the sense of taste she posessed, additionally, no one of them could move in high heels as she did. Inevitably, undisputably these were the bare facts no one was eager to admit. Having everyone adamant to do so, there was nothing else left but to ask the boys. This geanre is wide known for a certain weakness which she did not hesitate to make use of.

Yes, it was a fine talk.

We held separate lives. After marriage separation? That must suck. leading degenerated lives. Bloodless, mindless. Do not even want to think about it. Do not want to utter a bloody sentence-this way or that way it'd have contained rot. Meanwhile, on the other hemisphere, there was an alternative world being built - one of wonderful and brilliant ideas and perspectives, full of hope and bright light. Yet, it was not sufficient enough for a vision to stick to and hope for the best, let alone annihilate all worrys.

'What the hell, Robert,' I said. 'What the hell.'

It was a beautiful exerience. It was extraordinary. It's all about obeying the norms. Sticking, despite the brutality of the reality which may incline to pretending, the regulations, rules, canon, are what it is all about. Not to release the brute within.

"But as to the rest - we can just begin".

N noone could tell what the meaning really was, for the due reason it was only me, or us, even, the uniqueness of our personas which we have had to make the meaning out. Yes, there it was, cos nobody else could say it for ourselves. Every now and often, noone should be mistaken by the eerie, nor let to be eered by any distracting noises whatsoever. Brilliant as it was in its entire attire, thought dispersing was it as well undeniably. Nonetheless, we both got an unagitated satisfaction of it. N a stranger to the case couldn't really tell it anyway, just as u cannot see the real image on the jacket untill u get involved, engorssed...

The evenings were for boys, the mornings were for me. According to a study [no matter which one what, besides, does not complement with the regulations they tried to hammer into us] on lingo, women r using more adjs: the brisk, cold light of and crisp dawn, the morning ought to be for me. So it sometimes is.

The basis of All Regulations.

I did not know what happened with him anysoever later. What I did know [and was knowledgeable about], however, was that it was to be lucky not to have a mobile any more, for I missed to hear all potential misery talk which might have been produced by the alledged by him sole self casualty.

Lemon Bakery.

And she too looked any charming in those jeans tucked in fake Uggs, despite they were of the reddish colour of suede, as it accented her rectangular, far from being shapely legs. Mine were similar at that time, with the exception, I didn't care. Point proven. My thoughts exactly.

HAH!

After we indulged in makin love, we decided, we're gon make some luscious sushi - revealing the polite side which is impeccably capable of obsequious talk, no-naughty particle included. Just to prove how courteous and well-behaved we can also be and how perfect we find ourselves at pretending. Then, there was even more to the paranoic point of the society's vision of how to behave courteously, what norms to obey and what not - I, after the steam went off our bodies being induced by the edgy experience with no brinks, limits or verges, went to an even more courteous, excessively polite Chopin piano concerto, this time proving to everybody that I am known to any of those stiff personados present. The way I can escape frm the small talk, fcuk everybody hard, not paying any attention whatsoever to their opinions, beliefs, no need to put a mask on, no need to be apologetic for my values, hierarchy of needs, priorities and any other sort of kind cos I don't care about the others, they do not matter to me. Do what you want, stay out and away from trying to make your way into my way and don't be tantalized, your opinion values to me. Plough in an effort and try to accept and tolerate, widening your hypertight horizons that if I accept and am ok/fine with your point of view, then I have the supra right to have mine as well. And DO NOT try changing it. DO NOT try being offended by what I am saying you might think is offensive to you. IT IS NOT. Isn't it called democracy? Freedom of speech? Or are we still trapped in the ancient times or the American slavery - Huck-o-Jimmish time warp? Let's just be adults or the kids of the new wave with some brains. You don't get me, I don't bother explaining and it's too abd for you, my dears. Happy to be me. So good to be me. And no other kind.

I'm happy.

One of these mornings: I have a book to give back, no new messages in the mailbox - thanks God - a wallpaper on the desktop which bluntly heralrds the arrival of spring. There's Polish radio Channel II on the radio playing. Everything's so peaceful and calm, I will embark on listening to Gotan Project soon. Tangos, the springey songs... And the reviving memmoars of the last season spent abroad. So lively, fresh and undisturbed. Maybe this is why I relish genuine high cos I learnt how to achieve it and hence I do not have any serious problems and/or in case such arise I am capable of coping with them I do not need any uppers/downers whatsoever. It's time to go out. To observe a bit the upperred spring-induced peoples' behaviour. And to catch the last issue of Newsweek, Polish ed. with the sartorial issue of K Newsweek [every last Monday in a month]. On top of it all, I can't wait for my lilly of the valley bouquet...

Benoku.

U have to move on. U cannot be the reason why I pund in a stand still. The feelings I harobour to you are the most nasty I've ever tried to get rid of. And, as it has previously been, I can not as it is the matter of the core. I had several things prepared for you. Now, I hesitate about our future being cos I am in a great fear of you, in a great suspension of what am going to do next. It really sucks, it feels like being in an inertia, or worse. Coma [?]. Good one. Never was I able to make the fullest of your presence. Nor were you able to cope with all the things I relish. Did I need a rivalry to prove myself the best? Did I need a friend to be with me for the good and for the bad? I want it to stop! To stop right now! yet little I can do... The post bias effects are more durating. Taking u to task is no good at the time being... it all sucks. I am helpless about it. Can't do anything. Nor even save myself from pounding into the nothingness, doinglessness, of falling into the void. It's the best time of your life you say, still u fail to see that you hurt everyone who cares about you. So relieveing to say 'm a material girl, right... Can I share this inconvenience with my closest? What about that? Maybe they advise me the unfavourable for you way, huh? Not to mention, they did at the time they saw a slim. scattered light of chance I'll get over you. I can't trust you unless it ends. It seems to me that this is where the rub is. Are you keeping all this cos u see a chance for yourself to survive by myself? Is that it? it's so miserable. Knee deep in shit... More than it has been forecasted. How could I fall into you? Love is such a fucked up thing. You care no more about some of the things you relished in the past. progress you say? Step forward? Alas it is not. DEmotivation, sogging, relieving all the bad habits. It's all fucked up particularily cos for all my egocentricism I do care about and am affraind of you doing sth stupid, sth you might never be getting out of, addiction, it is. Happy tripping, all I can say cos you won't get the message across anyway. Too much of free time you have, I know. Now, trying to get rid of it, trying to make sth out of it, struggling not to die of boredom, it is. Between the lines yuo forget about yourself, your family, the Sunday evening Chopin concerto, me... It's even more to the point where it all gets blurred and fucked up cos thos post is too long for you to read it all, the message I want you to get too far away from the begining so it becomes too easy to state it's too complicated and wired up spiked with constructions you gaven't even dreamed of, could you trnslt this to me? What for? Do you espect the trnsltn to be shorter than the original? With all my scant linguistical knowledge and logic I can assure you it will not [not that "it'll not"]. I can scream out loud: WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOURSELF?! Still, remember, I am ina coma, nobody cas hear my shriek no matter it is high-pitched nor feel my clenching touch. You are in a coma too. "And your paranoia is probably worse". For all the human features, abilities, skills, potential, you have, it feels like you're numb, dumb, senseless, motionless, cautionless, to any signals, help whatsoever. Am I to scream at you? Does it lead us to the dead-end road inevitably with its flow? Will your worst nightmare become true? Here's mine: u keep doing your thing, I can't stand it, I'm fed up, I start quitting on myself to you, once you can't stand it too you get involved in an affair, sorry, to big a word, you have a fling with a whatsoever dumb blonde, I get briefed aboout that and we finally break up.