Tuesday, February 28, 2006

They CARE!

Well... Nowadays I am kinda suffering from a writer's block. So I don't have anything of my own that I'd feel like posting. But I'd like to make a tribute to my SPAM MAIL.
Well, spam mail is a good thing, once you look at it from a different approach. When no one is writing you and you feel so desperate to get a mail, you can always get 1 or 2 spam mails. My spammers are poets. No shit. They are poets. I'd like to share one of my spam mails:

From: "Maureen Lacy"
Subject: for, Edyta (gee... thanx)

When you just not sure...
When you are young and stressed up...
When you are aged and never give up...
IT gives you confidence in any chance, every time.
IT offers you the freedom of choosing the right moment.
Improve your intimate life!
Take care of your health today!
Wish you great health!

And there was a finishing touch, kinda philosophical:

A boy doesn't have to go to war to be a hero he can say he doesn't like pie when he sees there isn't enough to go around.wannaThe errors of faith are better than the best thoughts of unbelief.statsFascism is a religion. The twentieth century will be known in history as the century of Fascism.

All I'd like to say is that people care. People care not only about me, but also about my sexual life. People wish to improve it and they wish me health. Not only health but great health.
They also teach me their philosophy which, in their opinion, I may find useful.

iigeexbagsd@ belice.com: Fw: HI Any med for your girl to be happy (they want to make my girl happy... How sweet... wtf?)
Miguel Melvin: increase in sexual desire (they want to increase my sexual desire)

They CARE. So never say that you are alone because it's just not true.
You love your spam mail now?

Right now just kidding... lol... Hope to snap outta my block and write something useful. But I must confess the Viagra salesmen never seize to amaze me.

Infected Mushroom - Neverland (Infect Me Mix)
Nine Inch Nails - The Perfect Drug

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

...Out Of The Slammer...

Now don't think that I have no feelings or that I am a mad serial killer. Nothing like that. Well, yeah I am in prison. But as every prisoner, I can say that I am not guilty. Of course, you won't believe and, as I must say, you'd probably be right.
That goddamn newspaper. I'd kill the journalist. But hey, I'm here, sitting among the people who hate everything, including themselves. Yeah, this vibe kind of affected me through out the years. I've become dull, numb, and emotionless. Not that I am sorry for myself, absolutely not. I still have dreams, because I still have hopes. And everything will be just plain great after tomorrow's trial. Everything or nothing. Freedom or slavery. I'm quite positive that everything is going to come out perfect. I will be free at last. It's been 10 years now! Yeah...10 years, now that's much, isn't it? But I'm sure they were worth waiting because at long last I will see Karen. I wonder if she has changed much. I remember her being so young, so beautiful. And then that whole thing happened.
I swear to God, I didn't do anything that day. I didn't kill that woman. Lock me up and throw away the keys, and leave me bleeding for the rats to devour if that ain't true. I was walking when I suddenly saw that woman, screaming for help. Then I saw those two guys, wanting to rape her, apparently. She spotted me and shouted for me to come. The bastards also spotted me. One of them was holding a knife which was touching her bare white skin. Well, I guess he didn't know his own strength because he swung the knife to frighten her. Instead, he killed her. (I don't remember that much blood since my biology classes in University. Yep, I was pretty sure, that I would become a doctor at that time.) And now this happens... of course the guys saw that the woman was dying and ran away. I ran towards her; I wanted to help. I took the knife and put it aside. I tore my t-shirt (with the Chicago Bulls logo, which I happen to be a big fan of until now) and wanted to block the bloody fountain. I know, I know... so that was a bad idea. But what would you do in a situation like this? Then I saw it was no use. Some buddy phoned the police and of course, undoubtedly, surely, undeniably, the police decided that I was the person behind Audrey Cormison's (how it soon appeared) death. Who was Audrey? She was a beautiful woman, not married, living with her parents and working in the library. She was a very smart person. I should know... we were in the same school but she was a year or two older than me.
Anyway, back to our situation. There were lots of screams, when the police wanted to book me. I mean, I only wanted to help and here is what you get for being a good citizen. A lot of reporters caught this situation and put it into the yellow pages. Hell, yeah, it was a cover story. I was a star. Not that I wanted to be one.
And now I am here. After 10 years they decide that they have mercy. I hate mercy. Seriously. I hate mercy. Mercy is something like being enslaved. And when you are a slave, you depend on someone. I hate being a pendant. I understand it if God blesses you with His mercy. And here, what do you get? Mercy from people that you even don't know or don't intend to know. What the hell? Are they God to share their mercy with me? So God-wannabes shared their mercy with me. How sweet. It took them 10 years to realize that I was innocent. Jerks.
Anyway, fine, be that way. At least I'll get to see Karen. She wrote me so many letters. And I am so extremely excited to finally see her. I know, she waited for me and now voila, this is me, Mr. Out-of-the-prison-I-am-Innocent. But Karen loves me the way I am and that's why I love her, she's herself. Everything will be ok, hunky-dory, peachy-keen, fine and dandy after tomorrow.
I woke up next day, knowing that I'll be free. A swell feeling, indeed.
'Yeah', I said
'There's a letter for ya from your sweetie. Ya'll be all together after ya'll get outta this joint.' Kevin smiled at me. Kevin's a nice guy. He came to work here all the way from Texas. Most of the guys made fun of his accent. But I just didn't have the heart to make fun of that nice guy. Through him I could get almost anything I wanted: all those cigarettes that I smoked, mineral water, toothpaste and of course the letters from Karen.
'Sure thing, Kevin. You won't even recall seeing me after 5 days.'
'Gots to hope so, buddy.'
'You'll see,' and I was right.
'You gots to be damn lucky to get out of the slammer'
'I am.'
Tell you what. It was very nice of Kevin to talk to me and all but at that very moment I was concentrating on the letter and I couldn't understand anything with him saying stuff that really didn't matter to me. No, not then.
I opened the letter, read it attentively. I read it once, twice, three times and it still wasn't enough. Karen, Karen, Karen. My sunshine. I put the letter in my pocket, combed my hair and went off. It was time for the trial.
'Good luck now, Jackub. And I hope not to see your ass here again', Kevin smiled at me. I stayed silent. I knew he wouldn't see me again... Ever.
'Jackub Govemarson'
'Me', I spoke unsurely.
'Do you affirm that on the night of February the 6th, in Massachusetts, you were just the witness of the crime and not, in any case, the murderer?'
'I am the man who killed Audrey Cormison.'
'Do you realize what are you doing, Jackub?'
'I do, Your Honor.'
'Very well, Jackub. I sentence you to 20 years of...'
'I object, Your Honor, we need to have a discussion.'
'Lawyer Barntley, we do not have anything to discuss.'
'Please, Your Honor.'
'Very well. The trial is off to make its final decision'
After approximately 5 minutes the judge came back with his final verdict.
'Jackub Govemarson. You've been claimed guilty for the murder of Ms. Audrey Cormison. The court agreed that you'll be executed. Today, Mr.Govemarson.'
I looked at the judge. I think I had a question mark painted on my face or something, because the judge answered me at once.
'The chair, Jackub.'
I nodded.
'May this be a lesson to you. Mr. Jackub Govemarson. And to all that...' The judge didn't finish.
I think he knew the truth. Besides the two bastards who killed Audrey were sitting right in front of him, shocked and sitting still as rocks. They didn't expect me to say that, nor did the judge. Nor did I. I had my reasons.
'Take him away.' The judge tried to be determined and cold. But he was a bad actor. You can't buy that kind of talent, I'm afraid.
They leaded me into the blue room. There it was, the chair. Such a beau. They made me sit in it and so I did, of course. I felt how those cold wires sank into my skin and unleashed blood steams. I looked down at my legs. My clothes were torn but that didn't matter now, did it? They put a mask on me, asked me if I had any requests, I said none. In front of me there were about 30 chairs, filled with people watching me as I sat here, dying. Their eyes were full of hate. Especially Brenda's. Brenda was Audrey's best friend. I could imagine how she hated me right now.
The priest came just by then. He prayed for me. I joined him. I must say, throughout my whole life, I was religious. My mum taught me that God is the source of all good things in life. And I believed her.
I heard a smash. Then I felt how cold electrons went into my body causing me to open my eyes widely and look up. My fingers went up, as if they wanted to reach God, something I could never do. I opened my mouth, shaking. I wanted to close my eyes, but something was blocking my will.
I heard another smash. Now I felt my muscles extremely temped. And something hot was in me. It was unbearably hot. I was on a frying pan, literally. I started to hurt me very much. My mouth was hurting me because it was opened and I couldn't close it. And the edges of my mouth were bleeding; I basically tore my own mouth apart. No more kissing in this life, I thought.
The third smash. My body rises. It all goes blank. Nothing happened.
It was time to get rid of my body. Two guys came up to do it.
'Hey George, he has something in his pocket.'
'What's that?'
'A letter.'

Dear Jackub,

I know that You will be free soon. I was writing you so many times...Well, there is something I've never told You. I got married 6 years ago and I work as a journalist in the local newspaper. Do you remember? That was my wish! I hope Your life will settle. By the way, Your mother died two weeks ago. Don't worry, she had a memorable funeral. You can live with Andrew and me for the first month and then You should find a place of Your own! We all are waiting for You!

Karen, Karen, Karen. My sunshine.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

~Egyptian Memories~

So I'm back all the way from Egypt. It was amazing. It was the best. The desire that haunts me now, is to be able to turn back time. Something that I can't do. Unfortunately. But at least I came back with dozens of memories and emotions.
There are too many people who I'd like to thank... So I won't do it... :P
The pyramids were huuuuge.... Being on the yacht and snorkling was a looot of fun... The massages were heavenly. I had a swell time with my mum.
Is that why I came there for?
Only I uncousciously knew that I wasn't going to Egypt for that. There was another reason.
Throw a coin into the sea
And close your eyes
Somehow money
Makes you rich
And when You
don't agree about your points
Time passes
And you flip a coin
You start to understand a bit
That You were right
Or so wrong, so you don't admit.
Coins get stolen
Coins get old
Psychologists hypnotize you
And you do as you are told
Coins get grabbed
Coins get lost
They are all that
People cost
Still I dare you
Come with me
Take my hand
Close your eyes
Take this coin
Make a wish
Throw it into the water
Look at me
So who's the richest one of all?
...All those wishes...
Answer me.
The richest is the Sea.
All the coins that it devours
1 dollar per wish in an hour.
I am proud to devote this poem to Ahmed. Too many reasons why. You deserve more.
Jon And Vangelis - Mayflower
Ill Nino - Have You Ever Felt

Wednesday, February 01, 2006


No one ever had to mention
There's no time to react
As you've been taken to another dimension
The life's and destiny's pact.
So ususpectedly I picked up the phone expecting to hear my mother's voice. She was very calm. I was busy, doing something, as usual. I was drinking tea. She asked me so calmly and in a way that I felt that she would be asking something about a routine, that devoured me.
'Wanna go to Egypt?'
I let my tea cup go. Uncounsciously.
'Well yeah'
So, my friends, I'll be away for a week.
I feel like I'm going into another dimension. From winter tears to summer fears.
I am afraid. Of what?
Crushed Creations
Built to be destroyed
Hidden frustrations
We shouldn't be disturbed
Me? I'm afraid of
the TV turning on
when I don't have
the remote
I'm afraid of
oceanary disharmony
while cruising
in a boat
I'm afraid of
phobias, paranoias, diseases
They're killing me
While keeping me
I'm afraid of
yet-to-be-done harm
I'm a fraid of clocks stopping
Something I could never have done
I'm afraid of decisions
And uncertain actions
I'm afraid of war
And human-based soap manufactures
And how bacteria eats me
from the inside
I'm afraid of religion
What if God hates me?
No place to hide.
I'm afraid of uncouscious thinking
My mind enslaves me
And I'm afraid of Utopia
and the hopes it gave me.
I will be back in a week. See you then. As for now I am afraid of lack of reason.
No. Don't ask. Not today.
Marilyn Manson - Come White
(hed)P.E. - The Meadow


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