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in love and I/the truth seemed to be that everything/the real thing all over. No – it was/present, but the depth was not the same. We can say, tasted a bit, and fully to enjoy feared. It is understandable, because love is so powerful that it is able to achieve only for the true Mature and powerful men. The rest – so, are worn on the surface of the sea on life-saving devices, like a little baby, only just learning to swim. Afraid to complete a dive into the abyss of pain and great joy. Yes, and fashion is not the same today. Women have become more courageous. Men on the contrary – more feminine. Who, it is asked, the homeland will protect, in case of what. There was a woman battalion. Soldiers in skirts. Such a war can smoothly move in an Orgy – so I think. And it’s infinitely good and beautiful. It’s better if everyone Fucks at the same time instead of shooting each other. As the fastening material, to punish you… what’s the date today?… the twenty-second of September, or even the last Sunday of September, every year, from exactly eleven in the evening until midnight, I call on humanity all over the world, regardless of social status and the presence of a car, I call on all this precious hour to engage in hot, passionate, frenzied sex with abundant fertilization of a gentle female womb. On this day, you can drink a glass of wine, or champagne, or cognac, or who/what you want, depending on the tastes and geographical location. This day can be celebrated both outdoors and at home. This day can be safely considered a red day of the calendar. Cheeks because all of them will definitely be red. And it should be celebrated with the same scope and punctuality as the New year. And it will be called “the Day of great love between a woman and a man.” And its purpose – a reminder to us that instead of the weapon it is necessary to take in hands weighty female Breasts. Deducted. But the idea is interesting. I only wish to be made. You can imagine, the planet will shudder for an hour in spasms of orgasm. And let the rivers flow. Real crazy. I do not envy those who will have to work on this holiday. Although there will still be impotent, crippled, fags, lesbians and porn actors, to whom we do not belong, let this great and powerful holiday remain a simple working day for them. Why? The ancient Hindu sex had a religious format. You think, where did the Kama Sutra. The same thing happened under Ramses in Egypt. And what orgies were arranged by the Roman emperors! I remember in the early nineties, when I was four years old, or even – three, in theaters showed “Caligula”. My parents used to cover my eyes with their hands every time there was a sex scene. But I was guided by the sounds. Ears/they did not plug me. And the imagination is already painting a picture. It didn’t pay attention that we lived in a one-room hostel, and I listened to “Caligula” three times a week with enviable regularity. Strange that a virgin I walked right up to twenty years. Yes and at all, with women/girls rarely had Affairs, and “popular” sex me never interested. I have to say that the best fuck – monogamous? Repetition is the mother of learning. Follow my teaching – fuck for love, not for need. Although, these cases are highly interconnected. You understand me. And so, the holiday is rolled up on the last Sunday of September, from eleven in the evening until midnight. And the day before, quarreling and jealous of each other (preferably in Spanish), in order to attract the thrill and epicness of the event. Now I will turn on the eighth gear, or, as my heart tells me, beating in unison with the rhythm of the keys, I will direct the hoof race along the highway of imagination. Frisky horses race me into the distance. Towards fate! Towards fate! We were there to grieve about unfulfilled illusions. Shalom, swept through the grass and opened the way to the unknown. The unkind man can be seen at once by the Alliance of the eyebrows. Metal on glass and nerves on edge. The ringing of metal causes strange sensations of nervous pain, comparable to the removal of the tooth. I would like to dispel the illusion of fear. To open the atmosphere with the gesture of a Christian warrior. Fire and sword. They say if there nothing to fear, you die quickly. Therefore, it is better to sit at home when the head is poured with lead. In General, I see that people are busy with three aspirations: getting money, looming in boredom, or fart, as God will put on the soul. The third, as a rule, occurs at the peak of the strongest feelings. What, I wonder, Nevzorov clung to the Orthodox Church? Annoying that they don’t pay taxes? So this merit is bathed in the blood of ten thousand wars, each of which people have suffered such losses that Stalin and Hitler would have seemed shy Igrunov to cops/Robbers. I’m not talking about those terrible centuries, when the Inquisition was carried out unspeakable torture of infidels, and indeed, any doubters. The crown of Christian authority fell on the crusade, which was attended exclusively by children. The campaign did not last long, for half the army immediately died of hunger. Well, not so soon – in a few difficult weeks, or something. In short, child blood there, too, abound. It is surprising that all the Crusades were carried out with the blessing of the Pope. This is who was standing there at the helm of that “fry” sent to fight? Oh, history… one Day, Jesus Christ made the most that neither is a RAID on the Jewish sanctuary. And this bondage lasted for a long two thousand years, swallowing up so many victims that it is bad to imagine. There was actually no one remembers. There are legends. Build theory other. A whole abyss of passion arose around the carpenter of Nazareth, that at the peak of his young and hot age committed an act, whether self-sacrifice, or reckless rebellion. But who would not deny could be compared to Christ in terms of popularity. Show/business is just resting and Smoking bamboo. That’s what it means to be a real star – is to make the way from the earth to the sky. And then, taking its orbit, circling over the heads of the population for eternity. Even Siddharha unfortunate that six years wandering and doing penance – and you can’t compare. That’s really the passion of Christ. And what powerful armor on it were: a crown of thorns and in what mother has given birth. By the way, according to Christian legends, when Jesus was hanging crucified, he prayed for those who crucified him: “Lord, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.“This flour took place in the Roman Empire, I want to remind. I remember such a casus (case – translated from Latin), when I regularly, for two months swept plastic cups near the stalls, getting for it as much as five hundred rubles, hung out there one tramp, always begged for change for vodka and a piece of bread, slept between some/that glands directly on the asphalt, and in General was smelly, dirty and unpleasant in behavior. But, interestingly, if he was in a good mood, wound up such verses in the whole district that the audience, consisting mainly of taxi drivers and drunks like him, came in amazement. In short, he was a local rock/Russian format star. A sort of punk in the most natural form. Puke punk. I heard he was long gone. But the memory is eaten, the infection, his unusual behavior. But, what really was right Viktor Tsoi – how much of crazy at this hour wandering the streets. This work can be confidently hardened skeptic attributed to a fresh literary genre, and call this genre (with your permission) “Literary marathon”. Because the idea was to produce a creation of as much as twenty-five author’s sheets. What sobstvenno, exactly equal to one million characters with spaces. I think that the courage to do this is possible only once. As in the case of the capture of the fortress of Ishmael. Innovator ideas, of course, served as a well-known, but few people read the novel “Ulysses”. Until now, it was believed that Joyce went beyond the limits of literature in General, and that such a thing is simply impossible, and there is no sense. Well, I’ll try to prove you wrong. I have enough thoughts for that. True, we need what/it is important to write. Therefore, it is necessary to sweat. I hate it when literary poachers pussy text intact pieces from other authors. And even in General make extracts from encyclopedias or reference books on half a page, so as not to bother with the presentation of pure material with their own language technique. I assure you, I am not. I even hesitate to quote classics if it is not necessary. So, I think, if earlier the maturity of the author was determined by the writing of the novel. From this moment on, even if it is determined by the writing of a literary marathon. Although… why Ulysses? War and peace are a kind of literary marathon. Thomas Wolfe, if he had not been betrayed by serious editorial work, could serve as an example of a Mature author. Fyodor Dostoevsky, apparently, planned each of his work as a literary marathon. Tolkien. And what can be said about the writers who produce a series of novels, tightly linked, the record of which is awarded to Yuri Nikitin, who for a long time wrote under the pseudonym of guy Julius Orlovsky about the exploits and other life tests of Richard Long Arms.
