Кладбище зеленого чая - поэма болезни, май 2022

  (из книги "Inertia postmortem", ноябрь 2021 - июнь 2022)

Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Ashita tenki ni shite o-kure
Itsuka no yume no sora no yo ni
Haretara kin no suzu ageyo

Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Ashita tenki ni shite o-kure
Watashi no negai wo kiita nara
Amai o-sake wo tanto nomasho

Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Ashita tenki ni shite o-kure
Moshi mo kumotte naitetara
Sonata no kubi wo chon to kiru zo
(Варабэ-ута)


[Prologue]
- "Good weather, Prince, time to wake up. And goodbye!"

I gaze into eternity, into loss of consciousness, into everything, into the spoils of
I just wasn't there, I just didn't exist at all, that is, I wasn't there at all
but now I'm here, I'm still present, I'm here
that means I'm not asleep, that means it's time to wake up

I look half-awake at the outline of the ceiling in my half-room
the walls are clinging with nettle leaves, thorn branches and burdock fruits
piercing my skin, wrapping around my bones, squeezing my lungs.
I try to breathe, but the music of the angel's trumpets prevents me from hearing anything inside.
I try not to think, not to look out the window
but I've already made the mistake of waking up, overcoming death

the black sky opened up, releasing the ocean of loss to the outside
the starfall of the self-forgetful dying of all things.
Michael sings to us of the death of all and everything
and everything and everything will surely die.
I become the bed, then the floor, then flow to the window.
I'm the window sill, I'm the window frame, I'm the glass
I look out, I feel the absence of everything.
I am no longer afraid, I am an affect, I am an increase in dose, I am a new scheme, I see something that never helps
haloperidol - dissolves in the blood of the ocean
amitriptyline and xanax - pulling a smile on the coastal air of the neighborhood
triphthazine - already bigger than ourselves,
cyclodol sun forever extinguished
the pintatonic of events, the anapest of the unforgiven - all changed
the ships of mute dissect the chowder of the streets
colliding with the dark faces of buildings
exploding with neon laughter at fashionable store signs.
flipping through poems of decadent judgments about the materiality of reason.
trying to outrun society's doppelganger, the happiness of a rock on someone's neck, the slasher of immortality 
my memory is crumbling before my eyes, where I walked as a boy is now the end of everything
now swallowed up by the ocean, the gulf of terror, the fisherman's permissiveness, the prisoners' stocks in Letha's mouth
where the vile green fish that look like the Great Gatsby lighthouse swim.
they call me with them, I see all those who are gone
dope fiends and scum
whores and thieves
drunkards and anyone else
anybody and ghosts
pirates of lost constellations and pearls under their tongues
apologies and harassment, rape and love
the humble shadows of my city at night and the crimson dawn of a butcher's day
the blissful admirers of the poet Boris Ryzhy and the unthinking fans of '60s psychedelic America
the tender and the vulnerable, the promiscuous and the pure, the beautiful and the ugly.
sea watchers and beholders to the decline of latent capitalism.
handshakes and dirty talk, delirium and regret
curly youth and eyes that had no father in them
the circus of ontology and the hatred of absolutism
tangled teenagers under cannabis and a generation of emptiness
the subculture of oil and the apology of groundlessness.
in general, all those around me.
all those who will never be somebody, having lost the article "the" forever.
all those who have no place in the world of ultraviolet logic
all those who are lost in the desert of postmodernism.
all those who chose freedom over death, choosing punishment over crime.
all those who are now reading this poem and those who will never read it.
I see them, I caress them with my faded gaze
their life is as worthless as mine
I love them, they are close to me, their fate is my fate.
my constitutional dead, poets and artists, dickheads and worms, worms, worms, worms
not one of you I've ever been able to at least be friends with
because in the space of juvenile misery, there's only YOU.

I'm trying to forget what I've seen
it doesn't matter, no one will remember anything
I know nothing, I know nothing, I know nothing
I've calmed down, I'm looking at the venous lilies of the sexes
and I don't think it's about sex.
it's more about the aftermath of intersex.
when love dies, when the spirit is bowed to anger, when you pretend
I see the white hotel of my not-so-distant dream mined with synthetics
soon it will be gone but I have nothing left to believe in
snakes and scorpions, cockroaches and dogs, bats and roosters with clipped wings, rats without eyes and worms dragging the bodies of those they keep eating even now
they come out of the abyss to devour this world
to reach me, to reach me, to take me
and I know who sent them, but we won't meet soon enough
the world is sick with a severe form of schizophrenia, a disease of ubiquity
that's what baby Diana told me, that's what her knee called Vakhrin cried into my shoulder
and everything really blended into a schizophrenic waltz, the final macabre of the surviving apostles
and the bodies? the bodies would become a forest, trees of dead meat of old truths
the crown tops are already piercing the asphalt of human excrement.
soon they'll get to your little yellow wondrous lives
shivering on the telephone wires with dank sparrows of collapse
leviathans of scabs, icicles of saliva, grease of hemoptysis, apotheosis of particles, kindred lunacy-all poured with the concrete of the apocalypse
and this is just the beginning, the bagpipes will come later!

Marx Square became a carnival of madness, a parade of hallucinations, an instance of obsession
the veins of raging waters showed their substance.
the laughter of the unnecessary description of fucked upness spread over the courtyards.
I saw my friends die
saw my family drowned.
saw my old life end itself
all my paper history was coming to an end
- "There will be wonderful grave fields here, Prince!"
whispered the Improbable, quoted the Condemned, recited the Adherent
all was dying, but not all was not yet dead, for I was alive
I WAS STILL ALIVE, STILL ALIVE, STILL ALIVE!
I tried to cry out, but I was only panting helplessly, 
clutching at my throat with my sharp nails
while the high fever did not even think of letting go of my physical body.
I should have died two years ago, but I'm still alive.
I should have died a year ago, but I'm still alive.
I should have died a few days ago, but I'm still alive.
I should have died at least now but I have always stayed alive,
apparently I'll stay alive now, I'll live! I'll...
but Mr. Minimal calmed me down, making the whole fucking world finally disappear


1.
I open eyes, I listen to my heartbeat, I breathe
I'm trying to figure out how many more breaths I can take
I'm trying to figure out how many more
(much less than my mind can imagine)

I'm trampled, I'm deposed, I'm a mass of blood
I'm a barometer, I'm tilted
I am nothing, but still a little more than nothing at all
and nothing reminds me of my old self

and nothing reminds me of the old me
and nothing reminds me of the old me
and nothing reminds me of the old me

so i have lost the ability to breathe
to feel and to form a whole
I’ve become like coal, like a stone statue
my heart cracked, I experienced nothing

I got lost in the grass of expectation
I'm lost in the desert of experience
I disappear, I disappear, I'm a missing person
I'm no longer trying to wake up

I'm no longer trying to wake up
I'm no longer trying to wake up
I'm not trying to wake up anymore

give me a chance to look at you and smile
give me the chance not to lie to myself
give me the opportunity to be appealingly mortal
give me a chance to watch a parade of stars every day
give me a chance to be ignored
give me a chance to be lethal
give me a chance to never complain again
give me a chance to make up the graveyard of those I've lost

give me a chance to make up the graveyard of those I've lost
give me a chance to make up the graveyard of those I've lost
give me a chance to make up the graveyard of those I've lost


2.
I can't hear myself die
I try to hug when my hands don't respond to my commands
I want so much to love and be loved
my love is more like the steppe
so I'm lost in my mind
It's when my body moves by itself
the world is past me
I am past the world
it's when the body moves on its own
I'm in control
I twitch in convulsions
The stabbing pain of shame and guilt that I survived
the nausea of mercy
blitzkrieg of nervous tics
the clouding is when it makes me scared
and my face scares me
it's not real, like my mental disorder
I look like anything that's funny and terrifying
I'm a one-on-one alcoholic duel
I'm nothing but laughter and pity

I cause only laughter and pity
I'm all about laughter and pity
I'm a laughing, pitying mess

I'm a parasite and I need dichlorvos
I'm everything you can't understand
I'm a subway line that's not on the map
I'm an aphrodisiac (but where is my libido?)
I'm a leash, I'm a chisel, and I’m a nail in the temple's distance
I'm like blindness, I can only limit
I have destroyed myself; I have made myself the laughingstock of the world
I keep killing myself hour by hour while others live as they have lived
I don't believe in happiness, all I know is how to be indifferent
I'm a monster, I'm a bastard, I'm a weed, I'm everything around me
and every cell of my body begs for what it wants
and I will give what is asked for, but it will only lead to death
I'm as miserable as a stolen trolleybus wheel
I don't feel like I can be part of something bigger
I'm desperate to love, desperate to die
I'm a tranquilizer, it helps me not be
I hate the human in me

I hate the human in me
I hate the human in me
I hate the human in me


3.
I'm turning into a creature from a medieval fairy tale
I am the world's untold story
I'm a spilled confession, cut like Virginia Woolf's temple
I'm on the edge, catch me
I want to run away to the sea
so I say hello to the rocks
you'll laugh, but I want to be loved
I'm still a little boy
I'm the most lost teenager
I've got all the clich;s of my generation in me
I drink because it's the only way to open my eyes
I'm a drug addict because it's the only way to open my eyes
I use medicine because it's the only way to open my eyes
I hurt myself because it's the only way to open my eyes
I hurt those I love because it's the only way to open my eyes
I suffer because my suffering is stronger than me

my suffering is stronger than me
my suffering is stronger than me
my suffering is stronger than me

a noose of accusations is tightened around my neck
of weariness, of emptiness, of expectation
one day I'll be gone and no one will notice I'm gone
I'll be replaced by another, better one
but no one will notice the substitution, they'll continue to pretend it never happened at all
I'm tired, I'm in pain every second, I'm sour
I don't know why I exist
I don't know if there's any use at all
all I want is a smoke
let me get a breath of fresh air in the clear sun
but I look at the sun and I see the King of Worms
Emperor of Nerve Endings
Verb Coming in when you're dying
he vomits in my mouth rust, wisps of hair, oil
his crown is like a garden of bones, like a garden of bones all that surrounds him
all I feel is horror
all I've been experiencing for the last five years is horror
the only thing I feel at all
It's every day I'm scared, I try to cry
but there's a noose around my neck of all the other regrets
I sway in the wind like teru-teru-bodzu on a holiday day

I sway in the wind like teru-teru-bodzu on a holiday day
I sway in the wind like teru-teru-bodzu on a holiday day
I sway in the wind like teru-teru-bodzu on a holiday day


4.
I look into your dead eyes
But all I see is a dichotomy
Who dismembered you? Who finishes the remains?
I hear the clucking, I hear the womb sounds
but all I see is despair of any structure
I'm sorry you're no longer with me
Why didn't I kill you myself?
Why couldn't I have fallen from the fate of having form?
I would have killed you every time I saw you
every time I saw your beautiful face
I would kill you just as much as you would appreciate my hatred
sometimes all that's left is pain
love + hate = pain factory, the result - multiple traumas
and there was love and there was hate and there was pain
I'd kill you until the pain was gone
I hate the feeling of being human
scoop me up and you'll get the tar that they use on corpses

scoop me up and you'll get the tar that they use on corpses
scoop me up and you'll get the tar that they use on corpses
scoop me up and you'll get the tar that they use on corpses

please help me
I'm doin' it all alone
friends turned out to be shit in a wrapper
I don't need nobody
I'm a self-harm addict
Call the psychiatric helpline.
Thank you, but I'll look the other way.
as the cotton-wool world slips away, I'm out of control
I don't need anyone
I'm dysthymic
mama don't want you to be nobody
they're trying to be somebody to you
you've always had lots of friends and family
I don't need anyone.
I'm a death mania.
Your suicide is a fake. You're just a kid
You're gut You're gut You're gut
you can smile, you're happy
I don't need nobody
I'm a never-ending relapse
meaningless set of words is nothing more than trying to get out of your mind
you're as stale as granite, dull as marble
all you can do now is kill yourself
I don't need nobody
I'm teru-teru-deru-bodzu
you whore, you're the worst thing in the world
you're a monster, you're a destroyer, you're a ball without a bowie
it would be better if you were gone
I need someone please I'm dying
I'm the number four

4
4
4


[interlude]
how did it come to what it came to?
oh, that's a fascinating story, but I'll be brief.
madness is a rerun and another and another and another
at all starts with a little sadness, dissatisfaction with life
it gets harder when it requires a new quest.
love, death, fall, rise - it doesn't matter!
the main thing is the sea of emotions, the feeling that you're about to fall into the abyss
you look into the abyss, and once I looked into the abyss to see the darkness
at night. it was always at night. when the sun was dead. when no one was looking. when the cops were going home.
I've been racking my brain with fun pills on shadowy apartments
LSD, neuroleptics, psilocybin, ecstasy, weed, alcohol and all the other ways to become obscure
to lose weight in nature, to become weed.
then I was preceded by everything and hated
all the humanity combined in me
I inhaled the stinky fumes, watched the serotonin evaporate
In that mess of collective sins all my human feelings were dissolving
I was drifting away, I was further and further away from everybody, from everything around me.
I no longer felt connected, I'd lost hope, I'd become a blur, I'd been crushed
I was used, I was broken, I was beaten, I was poured acid
until my muscles gave up, until my eyes were finally swollen with bags
I became immortal, taller and bigger than any god
I towered, tasted ambrosia, laughed at mortals
until one day self-destruction laughed at me
I was outplayed in my own game and thrown on the rubbish heap
recycled, a house of woe and humiliation
there, I almost understood what Mr. Dostoevsky wrote about
all the living had been taken out of me.
such is the price of normality and sanity
I exchanged madness for insanity
I became homeless, lost in the prospect of returning
I searched for everything that reminded me of my own old self.
but all I came across was an elongated paper smile
and drops eating away at the pavement
that froze in place without falling down
that's how I watched the world disintegrate
and become a god of this world.
but then the cure ended and I was released
and I only got worse.
got worse with every word you said
every time you smiled
with every dead fall.
I've forgotten how to pretend.
So I haven't changed a bit.
only closer to ultimate defeat.
as a result of the increasing divine pressure.
while I was losing my steps in the sand, my shadow overtook me
without even turning around.
I waved my wretched paper hands at it.
and the ugly smile of a hanged man on my face.
That's how I - saw how easily absurdity lends itself to the logic of my wickedness.
I lost all possibility of interaction
all I had left were two friends and my parents
but I did everything I could to lose them, too.
to be alone.
and hurt myself so much that I couldn't even cry out.
tear away all the polymers of my humanity.
To be lost
but the hands of the clock went counterclockwise ahead of me.
painting my past the color of the future.
I looked up at the sky helplessly and could not believe that I was really underneath it.
What am I forgetting under the sky? What am I here for?
and immediately threw a marque


5.
all that's left is my veins
blood is flowing like current through the wires at the bus stop
only my thoughts remain
speech flows through my neurons like electric wires at a bus stop
I smile, I'm ambivalent
I try to make up for all the things I screwed up
I'm responsible for everything that happens to the world
I'm the main villain, I'm the torn page of the novel
I'm pulling my fingers but I can't tear myself away from comprehending my being
I'm helpless, I've turned into a rumor, I've become an ultrasound of nothingness
I'm nailed to the bed
I have a fever of over 39, I'm the most addictive drug
at the same time I'm in another apartment having a fit
and in another apartment, I'm trying to kill myself
my identity is completely lost
I'm experiencing a fission into particles
it's called ego disintegration, the death of everything, the end of the beginning
my body has a life of its own
the parasite wins, I lose
my self is dreaming of a blowing needle
the balloon is pierced, it flies away
a broken window of touch
I can't survive the stinging shards of the present
I look at the stars but I see nothing beautiful
I try to grasp what it means to be
I'm a calculator that's lost its "even" sign
I catch the rare words that whispers in the darkness
I'm deep beneath the ice, on the other side of the glass
there's no way to reach me, the caller doesn't answer (hangs himself)
I'm stretching my arms but my hands won't listen
I want to cry but my eyes don't belong to me anymore
I pour out everything in my medicine cabinet and cut my wrist
so I finally fall asleep
I've always found hallucinations to be the most interesting thing in life

I've always found hallucinations to be the most interesting thing in my life
I've always found hallucinations to be the most interesting thing in my life
I've always found hallucinations to be the most interesting thing in my life


6.
I found myself in the grass up to my neck of the woods
the sky is like a squashed cockroach
I feel nothing but dishonor
I wander through the grass to the east
I navigate by the stifling urges in my neck
I see the world as it was invented
I'm the most imprecise thing it ever was
the reeds of the swamp are like the entrails of a dead horse
the stench of my hometown won't let go
the dogs howl like the ravings of a philistine
the province always meets the geometry of defeat
I stand on the stump, I vomit hot under my feet
I don't feel what a man should feel
I've become a white fever, a hangover, a junkie's last dream
Isn't this the dying agony of a lucky man?
I deserve to drown here, to die broken
but I'm suspended from a tree like a teru-teru-bodzu
and my smile is the way time moves

and my smile is the way time moves
and my smile is the way time moves
and my smile is the way time moves


7.
I've made it to my destination with the ends in sight
and it starts all over again at the whim of a pike
"- catch up, Lazarus. be what others weren't.
you know what i mean, of course.
i found you here, but they won't let you in"
Leave Me alone! I'm fine here without you
I'll only feel fine where I can't breathe
I can't breathe anyone everywhere
I can't open my eyes
I'm so happy
I feel the leaves beneath me
The miasmas of afterlife and the continuing murmur of madness
I breathe in what I've been suffocating for the rest of my life
I'm in love with what killed me in the end
I don't ask for more
I disappear even from here
I merge with what rejects me
I am the alternative, I am the vaccine, I am the isolation
I have become something larger than a vacuum
I am the egg of the spacesuit, I am the macabre, I am the being of an apple fallen from a branch
I am no longer a hanged man, I’m no longer human right
I am now something bigger than my fatigue
I still feel pain and pity
the pain and pity of memories
suffering has replaced my skin, my bones have become hatred, my guts have become drugs
I'm fucking made of pain, touch me and die of pain shock
and I'm still terrified that I was once a human being
the terror of humanity follows me around
I've become grass and leaves and sky
I am the caterpillar that eats the fruit
I am all that surrounds me
try to pick it something here and you'll go mad
I'll kill you, I'll make you kill yourself
don't touch my great loneliness, my desire to be nothing and with no one
I want to be the most miserable of men, of all things
and I seem to succeed, I become the Prince of Despair
I am the graveyard of green tea
and the new day promises me nothing good
because the wind keeps swinging the teru-teru-bodzu stuck in the wicket
make me a brew, turn away from me be something I can hate
'cause teru-teru-bodzu keeps smirking suicidally

'cause teru-teru-bodzu keeps smirking suicidally
'cause teru-teru-bodzu keeps smirking suicidally
'cause teru-teru-bodzu keeps smirking suicidally


8.
the rain of my defeat will wash away objective reality!
the universe must be destroyed right now!
if you can't defeat the dragon, at least chop his head off!
stopping the heart is the last way to catch a ride!
your feelings don't mean anything at all!
your desires are unattainable even in prostration!
your attempts to ennoble the soil are more like premature rape!
your miserable lives are absolutely worthless, make a choice, get it over with!

Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu,
Please make good weather.
But if the clouds cry
I'll leave you in the rain.

The fact is that in my head for many years
there's been a lovely green tea cemetery
a monument to my insignificance and insignificance...
anhedonia and other very depressing and prickly words

I sometimes go there to pummel my despair
To watch the parasite hound me and drag me further to death
I laugh and rub my temple and say: you're fucked up
He nods and says nothing, he and I have a deal

But if the clouds cry
I'll leave you in the rain.
But if the clouds cry
I'll leave you in the rain.

I'm left alone with no regrets
I know that time runs like blood through my veins
inexorably fast and I can't control it
I don't know how much longer I have left in this world

all I ask for is a little sunshine
while you go to the store for tea and marshmallows
but all I see is the King of Worms
who's come for my soul, for my death proof

Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu,
Make the weather good, please.
Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu,
Make the weather good, please.


9.
protect me
cover me with paint
armor your indulgence
parasite me
tear me up
destroy me
you'll kill me I know
you will kill me
and then you come, Mr. Minimal

and then you come, Mr. Minimal
and then you come, Mr. Minimal
and then you come, Mr. Minimal

I'm a broken light bulb in an elevator
I'm the soy sauce that wasn't needed
I'm the asphalt that's soaking wet
I'm the rain that's no use
I'm the derealization of a ziggy stardust
I'm the thing that's coming that can't be seen
I'm the heart and lungs that are pounding 
I'm the withdrawal, I'm the breaking pulse of the wind
I'm self-destruction, I'm postmortem
I am the hatred of this world
I'm a choked bumblebee
I am the wrong honey of time
I am the dead silk of space
I bend, I lengthen, I stratify
I fade, I vanish, I disappear, I turn to nothing
I am the fire over all that is mine
over everything that used to be me
I'm a burning green tea graveyard
I burn with all that was important to me
I weep with fiery tongues of my powerlessness
there's nothing I can do nothing I can't do nothing I can't do
BUT
SUDDENLY IT'S RAINING
LIKE THE WEATHER
and teru-teru-bodzu smiled from a branch
so I - became calm and drifted off to sleep
"CHAPTER ZERO. Uninterrupted suicide (in progress)"
Welcome to my world, my friend
See you at the cemetery of green tea
We'll play in the foliage and see who's the fastest to be disappointed in everything.
who'll get to the pen, who'll end it all first
who gets the coolest diagnosis
who's the biggest drinker in the neighborhood
who jerks off the most
who's the biggest bastard and the baddest villain in the world
we're gonna play a lot of what you call life
let's play
Suicide, you low-life loser?

I'm afraid we won't make it, for you're crushed by a cough.
for you do not exist
for you just feel what's going on around you.
for you're just a body, you're an observer.
you're a cowboy who's fallen out of all dimensions
and I'm just a puppet calling for rain
and all that's visible is a Daedalus mirage
Berezovsky's glitch, a second stretched to eternity
Van Gogh lost his way out of the red room
Pythian flowers wilted for a universal future
the frame/string that buried Tarkovsky
the Tatar desert of ideas and words of dissenting meanings
the most unseen and invisible
20,000 words to the wallpaper in the asylum
the inscrutability of the trickster
pseudo-philosophical literature for the faint of heart
The Lion Who Lost His Heart, The Tin Man Who Found Transhumanism
the hurricane of everything and everywhere, the collapse of the root cause
he who cannot find his way out of the Rusty Lake
who is lost in the remains of half-dead Blake poetry.
who is forced to experience the eternal returning over and over again.
who has an endless Dream of Flattery, Irreducibility and Cancer Cell Metabolism
who has never been able to complete his own romance with Benzedrine
so ends the life of the Living and the death of the Accelerator
soon aortic rupture, ligaments resting on cerebral tension
supply paralysis, supply paralysis, supply paralysis
it's all written on paper, my flesh, it can all be read and you read
none of what you expected? how pathetic...how...give a fuck
The Pathetics are again defeated by Pleasure, hype-hype – hooray!
wait, do you hear that? shh, He's talking, so He can hear us:
«there's nothing there's no one there
there was nothing there was no one there
there's nothing there's no one there's no one there's no one there»
only a graveyard of green tea, of tea leaves we will roll
turning them into just a puppet calling for rain

just a puppet calling for rain
just a puppet calling for rain
just a puppet calling for rain


[Epilogue]
I let go. Let down my suicidal opera. The night of my madness slowly decayed into a fallen candle.
The morning that had not come, the burden of my vices and defeats, arrived in tongues of waves to my toes.
I woke up pretty bad, I thought that it was the end, that I was going to die, but no, I was not dead.
More psychosis, less psychosis, but the point doesn't change - I'm sick,
But sometimes it is so hard to find treatment, to find help, care, touching eyes at the same level of faces.
I have lost exactly how much I could not fix, exactly as much as a Russian poet can bear.
But this is not enough for me, the horror of being is beyond any perturbations.
I am a Seeker of Time in the Valley of the Howling Grains.
And I rise to my feet and walk on, though the shadow of other regrets pulls me back
To the tree branch knotted around my neck, my paper limbs begging that already- smiling, begging for rain.
I'm still teru-teru-bodzu , a small child's toy in a huge supermarket of serious topics.

I walk close to the window, I open it fully, I spare no effort.
I feel the sea of whales, the ocean of depersonalization and the panicked wind of freedom, I - breathe.
"Not all the way."
I know. We broke it all ourselves, Mr. Minimal, and there's nothing we can do about it...
The whales swam on, starting their wild song,
Taking my flowing tears far into the past, when I was still an All-Timer.

Crying space, crying northern lights, crying belonging to something.
I'm stuck in cradle dreams, memory aneurysms, suicidal thoughts.
And I need to get rid of it, I need to be cured, I need to overcome the disease of mourning.
But that very doctor is unlikely to be found so soon.
And how long will I last at all? I don't know. No one knows.
Tired of complaining, I go downstairs in search of cigarettes and stronger wine, sweeter friends, more forgiving pain.
And I find my own geolocation in Cash City.
Remember that sad little song you used to sing to me as a kid?
"It was."
Could you do an encore of it?
"Yeah, sure."
I'll watch you dance in the sky until the King of Hearts finds me again.
I light from the emptiness, let out the smoke of death's disdain, smile for real.

"And your pain will remain a kingdom
Of unstruck mirrors, glittering with good
Intentions of the Sun to smile.
But sometimes that underneath exists,
Will tell thee a parable of the convergences
Of what was, what is now gone,
To which you can only turn
With your back, forgetting all your other attractions,
And, falling as a petal of the forgotten,
To rise up the Prince of Solace and embrace the world.
All this you know, all this I know."

"That's enough. But it's not over yet."
"Let it be as you wish, I do not hasten.
"Time is sullenly pressing, Prince."
I'm in no hurry. Half a cigarette more.
"So you're going through one more hardship."
I suppose so. Leave me now.
"As you wish. Well, goodbye,
See you at the green tea cemetery."
See you there, I'll see you there.

I raise my head to the constellation of the Worm,
"I'm wishing quietly, without being disturbed...
From the noise of the first passing cars,
From the hatred of the waking world.

Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu
Make the weather good, please.
Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu
Every night I'll banish your fear

Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu
Cause I've got your squeezed smile
Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu
I will become an animate object of you

Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu
Take me to the green tea graveyard
Teru-teru-bodzu, teru-bodzu
Make the weather good, please.

Немель, 16-18 мая 2022
Красный пр. - Предместья Ленина - Площадь Маркса