Starting "and so". It's the end of my story. It is Friday. The sun evaporated from the city. For several days is gray, perhaps even foggy, although it may just be gas. Do not see the clear sky ceiling. Everywhere it is not so much white as whitish, sort of like how paper-mâché. Waiting for a white bus. Fifteen. In place of white contractually winks. The city lives its own rhythm. Everyone goes, goes, goes "somewhere", "after something, or trying to make such an impression. Everybody has opinions, bank account, a favorite song, free afternoons, dreams and TV. I stand alone, shouted down by the billboards, the pace of life and western cars bought with loans. The headset beeps some dałn-tempo. This is definitely not a music town. At least this city. Ten minutes later the bus pulls up. White, bedraggled Jelcz fumes. I got in, not erasing the ticket. Kanar last seen a year ago. The caravan moves. I look out the window avoiding the eyes of others. Others are doing the same thing .. Funny, but I can not remember a single face, which have been taken in my memory, during any tour in six years of study. All the girls are the same. All the others even more.
The road continues length album version of "Light My Fire. I get off near the Hall. Melting snow sticks to everything boots and trousers. I reach for szluga. I still believe that I throw this shit before thirty.
university architecture is a classic of social realism in the most intense phase. Weight of angles and more concrete. Everywhere, sometimes smoky gray glass and concrete facades. Haunted by his story. Flicks the ashes, as it turns out the right shoe. Moments stamps, mijany by shoals of people, rushing to class. How do you "goal - pal." I fish out of them familiar face. I do not remember his name. Before my repetą were together for years. I did not like it. Pause and squeeze empetrójce in his hand. There is no form, is limp. Just behind him asked: "What good?" He says, he got the PhD. I am asking for an average of five years. The embarrassment he says four and four. I looked into his eyes. I believe. Life squeezes his ass. Just as in the past studies. He says that the applications lacked a single point that was just the appeal, but in terms of what is said can feel no major expectations in this direction. I said that it was worse and now has to be better. Do not believe me. I ask how much more do we prepare for the application. Three months .. This time I do not believe. He asks about the seminar. I do not remember exactly what I said. I know that the answer is often used the word "should." Before entering the department, in the nearest ashtray kiepuję and going to the center, shows the hand of dean's offices, saying that I need to go. Along the way, I take almost a free Republic, but at the last moment giving up. I'll never write about the NBA.
At Dean's no queue. It is actually closed. I knock a few times. Finally, someone with compassion and opened. As well, it is not the whore of the first year. I take the exam card and fuck off. I go further into the bucket and unzips fly over the urinal - emsześćdziesiatkiszóstki in this regard are awesome - in a stupor most will not have the slightest trouble. Do not pee in the middle. I have principles. Starting yesterday I passed without a word, the examiner and looking around carefully so as not to spot a promoter, to go outside. Smoker third. These studies once I finish.
It starts to snow. I assume the cap on his head. May finally dozes all, although for a few days, because even a moment, and burst my eyes, like "in Kutno, Poland at the station at night." In the alley I pass friend from high school. In this story we pretend that we do not know. I turn to the library. Kiepuję. I leave my jacket and backpack in the locker room, take a ticket and go to the top. The bar at the bottom of casserole smell reaches me. I have never eaten anything. Runs between the shelves without a greater purpose. I pass old friends. Ellis from "laskojadów" and the guy from "How are you going to ask Cody Wyoming Wild Bob." Capote from everything else. I take a few German albums with pictures of New York from the days of Prohibition, and "Miriam," which finally finds its place. I wanted to zajebać bastard, which I so much to endure. I sit in the reading room. There are a few people, most of it Shmuel. All are in session, bent over textbooks or notes. I read the first story. It is masterful. As usual. He talks about guy dreams wholesale purchasers. Najgenialniejsze ideas are always simple. I think for a moment that I think everyone needs a genius to be a Jew or a fag. I was born too late. With shortages. Geniuses. Each of them was already dead, and if still alive make such things, that he'd be willing to trek to the rest of them. I thought about it seriously, listening to Emsi cartneja last album.
Somewhere in the middle of the album, with photo gallery of Tiffany & Co. on Fifth Avenue, from meditation pulls me librarian. Grabbing the arm explains that they will close. Imagination run away before the eyes of my eyes, Marilyn. Marilyn, we all had.
On zawnątrz is already dark. This leads to nine. Arms in a hat and left glove. Addiction points about yourself, why not put right. And so they are not for couples. Set tracklist and leave. I boot from Electric Relaxation. The city seems to be calmer. On buses, you can even catch up on the seat. If you do not have anything to do, go out only at night, the day usually is not so much strength. Looks people say "I do not have time" and only I go from place to place without much purpose. Do not win with them. The evenings are quieter. You know, those who "do not have time", now sit in front of the television waiting for tomorrow, and I can walk from place to place putting feet close together, not to prolong unnecessarily step, focus on music and zachłystywać the breath of the city. Gagarin, Reja, Biedronka Bydgoszcz where they close the door behind me. Bodyguard looks on my hands. As usual. He buys two Kenigery deducted for exactly two fifty-eight and hide them in your backpack. As usual. Fuck ecological bags. Apparently the easiest way to collect Bydgoszcz a beating, but in five years here and I go between the blocks on the night and the only Rubinkowie wpierdol what I gathered, he sparked the first award, ten meters away from the police Octavia.
remember this piece Świetlicki and I'm willing to repeat after him, "This town will never be mine.'' This city's Bogus Linda, Alex Wolszczan, and this scribbler Janusz Leon, not to mention the name. Probably no more city will not be mine. Ever. From Chopin to go wide. Załapuje still on the tomato with pasta in a milk bar "Małgośka and spilling coins on the counter even order a cup of tea. Time stopped here in the early nineties, chipped plates PSS Together, stamped stainless steel spoons and forks, and sometimes aluminum. Even the guy in the corner is dressed in the style of metal - Titus Acid drinkers from the period of Dirty Money Dirty Tricks. At his feet is the classic Robinsy wywleczonymi tongues. Where did he grabbed it? I finish next to last story "Miriam", smiling to himself. Dopijam tea and leave. Will be closed.
Lubicka go about forty minutes before I was against the cage. All the way I managed to finish the "Best of" The Doors. In the light does not burn. It is eleven o'clock. It turns out that no one there. I sit on the edge of sofa, odbezpieczając Keniger. Dopijając, open wide the window and lean out to burn the latter. Above the block reads blue glow. I close the window and turn on the TV itself, jumping on śnieżących channels. Four. Single, two, and almost polsat tvn. I've been putting. Apparently the same dick that stays in your TV. I open the last beer piwopodobne, pulling at them from a few months to the amended sheets. For a moment I think of Bukowski. Bastard wrote dozens of pieces about drinking portwajnu to the mirror, pounding the horse and wiping it later in a sheet. All were about loneliness. Once again I go back to thinking about geniuszach. I fall asleep. Sen. przywiewa my pictures from elementary school. I'm fourteen years and another solo after class. My moves come, but none is there any night. I feel helpless. When I wake up embraces the whole block of the night. Banging his fist on the wall. It's quiet. At the time the alarm was read.
's a little after the third, a minute flow slowly.
"Just like youth."
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The Fashion - Like Knives
