March 29. Come on, it’s monday.

I write for a few. I need only a few to convince me of the fact that my endeavour is not completely futile. But don’t worry. You can stop reading; I’ll have ten other readers to replace you. Writing should be like painting, splashing the words on a mental canvas, and the writer should develop some curiosity about the patterns that he creates, the words that appear on his screen or on his paper like speckles of paint. But what about understanding such texts? Texts remain linear things, concatenations of words one after the other, it won’t work if you ask the reader to end of the sentence read this words first before continuing to the. I’m just playing with my medium. Come on, it’s monday.

Time is ticking; I have to reinforce my army and adjust its tactics in order to escape boredom once again. Producing nothing but a text is unevitably heading towards boredom. The words just lose their meaning like candies you sucked on for too long, and the sentence they live in won’t be able to revive them. Rather, the sentence is doomed to become a funeral of words that are sticking out like tombstones out of the grey earth. I’m trying to pursue LIFE here, and all I’m creating is a dead structure in which even the wittiest remark, the mildest description of the human condition, the most lightweighted verse alluding to the miracle of lover’s eyes that shine, all this is just buried in this damned textual cemetery.

What can I do? Ask questions like “Do you prefer cunXXXXXXXX over coiXXX?” (remind me to get rid of the X’s in order for the paper version to sell). Shocking! Let’s shock each other, let’s shock each other as much as we can. Let’s cover this whole cemetery with a thin silk blanket and have the picknick of our lifetime on it. There are many ways to shock each other. Some announce morbid actions over the internet. And execute them. The shock can throw us right back into life. But I don’t want to be morbid or pornographical. There are other options. In Argentina for example, there is football. I can try to play a football along these lines. The football will look like this: O. So when I continue writing, I will play the ball along the lines so you can follow it with your eyes just like in a real football-match. When it arrives at one end of the field, i.e. the current entry O it means a goal. There are two parties: the beginning and the end. Perhaps the entries will get more exciting. On the other hand: when they start with an O you already know which party scored. Do you have any suggestions for this? How can I make the football O along these lines more exciting?

A few days later, I will be visiting Paraguay, on my way to Bolivia and Peru. A twenty-four-year old girl told me we all have this phase that we want to walk the Inca Trail and visit those countries. She must have had it years ago herself. Yes, we all have this phase. You’re twenty and you want to conquer the world, you conquer the world, go everywhere, you have conquered the world and then you start a very normal O life, telling other people that it’s a phase we all go trough. Yeah right!

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March 29. Come on, it’s monday.

I write for a few. I need only a few to convince me of the fact that my endeavour is not completely futile. But don’t worry. You can stop reading; I’ll have ten other readers to replace you. Writing should be like painting, splashing the words on a mental canvas, and the writer should develop some curiosity about the patterns that he creates, the words that appear on his screen or on his paper like speckles of paint. But what about understanding such texts? Texts remain linear things, concatenations of words one after the other, it won’t work if you ask the reader to end of the sentence read this words first before continuing to the. I’m just playing with my medium. Come on, it’s monday.

Time is ticking; I have to reinforce my army and adjust its tactics in order to escape boredom once again. Producing nothing but a text is unevitably heading towards boredom. The words just lose their meaning like candies you sucked on for too long, and the sentence they live in won’t be able to revive them. Rather, the sentence is doomed to become a funeral of words that are sticking out like tombstones out of the grey earth. I’m trying to pursue LIFE here, and all I’m creating is a dead structure in which even the wittiest remark, the mildest description of the human condition, the most lightweighted verse alluding to the miracle of lover’s eyes that shine, all this is just buried in this damned textual cemetery.

What can I do? Ask questions like “Do you prefer cunXXXXXXXX over coiXXX?” (remind me to get rid of the X’s in order for the paper version to sell). Shocking! Let’s shock each other, let’s shock each other as much as we can. Let’s cover this whole cemetery with a thin silk blanket and have the picknick of our lifetime on it. There are many ways to shock each other. Some announce morbid actions over the internet. And execute them. The shock can throw us right back into life. But I don’t want to be morbid or pornographical. There are other options. In Argentina for example, there is football. I can try to play a football along these lines. The football will look like this: O. So when I continue writing, I will play the ball along the lines so you can follow it with your eyes just like in a real football-match. When it arrives at one end of the field, i.e. the current entry O it means a goal. There are two parties: the beginning and the end. Perhaps the entries will get more exciting. On the other hand: when they start with an O you already know which party scored. Do you have any suggestions for this? How can I make the football O along these lines more exciting?

A few days later, I will be visiting Paraguay, on my way to Bolivia and Peru. A twenty-four-year old girl told me we all have this phase that we want to walk the Inca Trail and visit those countries. She must have had it years ago herself. Yes, we all have this phase. You’re twenty and you want to conquer the world, you conquer the world, go everywhere, you have conquered the world and then you start a very normal O life, telling other people that it’s a phase we all go trough. Yeah right!

March 29. Come on, it’s monday.

I write for a few. I need only a few to convince me of the fact that my endeavour is not completely futile. But don’t worry. You can stop reading; I’ll have ten other readers to replace you. Writing should be like painting, splashing the words on a mental canvas, and the writer should develop some curiosity about the patterns that he creates, the words that appear on his screen or on his paper like speckles of paint. But what about understanding such texts? Texts remain linear things, concatenations of words one after the other, it won’t work if you ask the reader to end of the sentence read this words first before continuing to the. I’m just playing with my medium. Come on, it’s monday.

Time is ticking; I have to reinforce my army and adjust its tactics in order to escape boredom once again. Producing nothing but a text is unevitably heading towards boredom. The words just lose their meaning like candies you sucked on for too long, and the sentence they live in won’t be able to revive them. Rather, the sentence is doomed to become a funeral of words that are sticking out like tombstones out of the grey earth. I’m trying to pursue LIFE here, and all I’m creating is a dead structure in which even the wittiest remark, the mildest description of the human condition, the most lightweighted verse alluding to the miracle of lover’s eyes that shine, all this is just buried in this damned textual cemetery.

What can I do? Ask questions like “Do you prefer cunXXXXXXXX over coiXXX?” (remind me to get rid of the X’s in order for the paper version to sell). Shocking! Let’s shock each other, let’s shock each other as much as we can. Let’s cover this whole cemetery with a thin silk blanket and have the picknick of our lifetime on it. There are many ways to shock each other. Some announce morbid actions over the internet. And execute them. The shock can throw us right back into life. But I don’t want to be morbid or pornographical. There are other options. In Argentina for example, there is football. I can try to play a football along these lines. The football will look like this: O. So when I continue writing, I will play the ball along the lines so you can follow it with your eyes just like in a real football-match. When it arrives at one end of the field, i.e. the current entry O it means a goal. There are two parties: the beginning and the end. Perhaps the entries will get more exciting. On the other hand: when they start with an O you already know which party scored. Do you have any suggestions for this? How can I make the football O along these lines more exciting?

A few days later, I will be visiting Paraguay, on my way to Bolivia and Peru. A twenty-four-year old girl told me we all have this phase that we want to walk the Inca Trail and visit those countries. She must have had it years ago herself. Yes, we all have this phase. You’re twenty and you want to conquer the world, you conquer the world, go everywhere, you have conquered the world and then you start a very normal O life, telling other people that it’s a phase we all go trough. Yeah right!