whiskey a something text

the cat's testicles were being blown around by the spring wind.
Therefore,
he has no reason to look for reasons for anything.

I like the concept of kosher,
the religious aspect.
the rightness of each stage of the process of life.
I'm not Jewish and I don't know exactly
what the term means,
so please forgive me if I do.

But I love the idea of it.
That if it goes wrong, it goes wrong,
That's probably what it means.
That at some point something was done wrong.

The intentions weren't honest enough,
Or the right words weren't spoken,
Or a goose's head was chopped off for the holiday,
Or a smirk slipped in.
Or a prayer was formally recited
And it wasn't a prayer at all.
And that's it.
Everything is irrevocably wrong
and the goose and the table and the feast and the cause.

Basically, the dish is ruined if the cook sneezes.
We don't tell anyone.
Now I'm distracted by idle talk,
I can no longer hear the step of the purposeful cat.
A single misstep in the process
And that was the end of it.
The technology of life's production is broken
And the right result would not be the right result.

Yes I wouldn't stumble if I wasn't pushed without end.
Don't talk to me, I'm mute,
I'm not at home, I don't know words,
I can't answer anything intelligent anyway.
And now I only vaguely remember
That I was thinking about the spring cat and for a reason,
For a reason I no longer understand
There was no reason for the cat to have a reason.

I don't even understand my sentence anymore.
Please don't talk to me
about mundane matters.
First of all, I'm not interested and I suffer from it
And secondly, thirdly:
my attention shifts to the tinder,
and it focuses itself like a laser.
The doctor himself has diffuse attention deficit disorder,
probably,
Yeah, he didn't hear the word laser.
His attention ran away like a thief and he couldn't catch it.
There it is, behind the bushes.

Who's what? The doctor's attention escaped.
From who?
From the doctor himself in the process of diagnosing the syndrome.
Any other questions? That's enough.

I see your attention is off the leash, too.
How do you want to stay home today?
Your attention is at home and you're here?
All right, listen,
don't play with a magnifying glass on a sunny lawn,
You'll burn all the grass around you.

Oh, the doctor's shining a laser pointer in his eye.
It's a trick of the eye.
Can we get another doctor for this, please?
Another one.
What's with the sun bunnies?
What's with the sunbursts?
Did you know that these pointers are used to drop airplanes.
Oh, my God.

Whoever builds these robots, the sensors don't work at all,
Not a single device is out of order!
What's four drive? It's not fuel level!
Climate control isn't measured in liters, you idiot!
What's not to understand, it's all written on the dashboard,
in clear Chinese letters, in Chinese.

What's the slipper doing there? You've got one pedal.
I can't do this, he's going in reverse.
He said it was for comfort.
the clutch and the old school.
It's not nonsense when it doesn't feel right, it's the opposite,
Dude, 60 liters is not speed!

(yes, and he felt the weight of a lifetime lived,
And she felt the "overrated love" feeling.
in some part of her body, a ringing in her ear.
And these two, clearly,
there's something wrong with the sensors, too.)

The sensor readings are all so messed up, it's nonsense.
It's like a ship out of control in space.
But don't worry, it's in automatic mode.
The sensors, and they're blinking,
but who ever read the manuals?

I've got no power, not just low power, almost zero.
What does it say, though? It's the noise reduction sensor!
It's just off.
Turn it up to maximum, I don't always need to hear everything.
And the battery gauge is on the other side, not at all.
Nonsense sensory perception is a matter of interpreting the signal.
And it's so complicated, you have to understand what the signal is signaling.
Blonde? No, worse, my cat's name was Daisy.
 
Where do we have "extreme confusion" on the dashboard here?
How's the heel left? 
Oh, yeah?
And on the wiring diagram, it's labeled "heart,"
number one hundred and twenty-five.
Everything needs to be renumbered,
all the sensors and buttons are all mixed up.
Do we have stealth mode and turbo? Turbo what?
Well, I thought it just turned on the high beams.

the cat's testicles were blowing in the spring breeze.
And he was going about his business
and he wasn't distracted by anything.
and had no reason to look for a reason.
Sigmund!
The cat's name was Sigmund,
but he also responded to the name Kuzma,
if offered a sausage or a fish.
___________________________________________
I don't like pathological. What's that?
Well, it's kind of like the Kunstkammer.
where they culture all these two-headed freaks.
and people love it.
It's like they're in cahoots. I can feel their grievances and their resentment.
This world speaks to me by putting on different faces.
Like agent smith from the matrix.
It's brilliant, anyone can be him.
But then I get to be the chosen one.
I am.
And this world snaps back at me by showing me exactly what I don't like.
It's like revenge.
It's like this clump of energy knows I've been planning my escape for a long time.
"invitation to execution." No, it's not.
 I'm much cooler.
But that inflatable tub he's swimming in.
And floats off into the ocean horizon,
It's nabokov's real bouncy tub.

He had it with him when he fled Russia for Berlin,
he brought it to France and then to America.
He used to tape holes in it,
and sat in the middle of hotel rooms.
It's funny somehow, the bathtub was small.
Was it blue?
It was blue.
Maybe I'm lying.

Emperor Cincinnatus bathes in this bathtub.
He was condemned to death for the opacity of his soul.
He didn't let the rays of the world pass through him,
like all other good citizens.
This is still, universally.
the most unforgivable crime.
Reflection/refraction, we know.
There's no emission. They just didn't realize yang is just the sun.
Yeah, the Taoist Falun Gong sorcerers were all imprisoned too.
The Chinese Communist Party is looking into the matter.

And whiskey, what are you talking about?
And where did you come from again from a sober literary man.
You're not a literary man, and who else but me today.
Wait a second, I want to pierce Nabokov's bathtub.
Oh, you little saboteur, are you jealous?

Nothing to be jealous of. Shakespeare's memory-- three creaky steps,
Nabokov is not young, sad and overweight.
He couldn't fit in his bathtub if he wanted to,
but he has a real bathtub with legs and shiny faucets.
But in the full matron's elbow resting on the window sill in the window opposite,
he saw the knee of his little bimbo again.
No, I'm not jealous of him.
I'm just gonna puncture the inflatable bathtub.
I'm just gonna get revenge for the butterflies I killed.

"...we consider ourselves mortal."
Read that bit right.
No, I'm not jealous.
I have no faults at all,
Who am I jealous of when I can see through.
Opacity is not a flaw,
It's a literary device,
Don't copy someone else's images.
I'm a superwoman, but I don't remember
I think I have a case here, but I don't know what it is.
When my legs fall off from cigarettes, and this is the perfect excuse.
Ah, all the literary people are preparing their escape.
There are no others.

It's vulgar to lay a straw in advance.
Whiskey is fake, isn't it?
How can you!?
Geronimo!  - Up and at 'em!
I mean.
Back and down!

They'll drag their delusions and mirages behind them.
And they can't quit, for first they'll have to become a donkey.
Then they'll swim and drown -
no one will agree to carry such baggage to the other shore.
There are containers and tons of it.
This nonsense is from what movie? Odyssey?
The god Chronos eats his children.
But I am not the children of this time.
Don't be fooled.
Enjoy your meal, you're welcome, I don't need any of this.
There's a big difference between "who saw the light" and "the light".
Naturally, you can't take anything from here,
The only thing is that I wanted to do something here, I think,
But I don't remember.

It's just banal thoughts.
And you'd think there'd be others.
You don't understand this world is a prison.
And I'm planning an escape.
Well, at least it's fun.

And what's new about people?
Yeah, except that they don't exist,
and it's your own personal choice.
With a perverse quality.
And that's not new either.
there's never been anyone anywhere but me -
- no one to justify myself to.
I know that.
So stop shaming me.

And for such cases you invented Nabokov in advance.
With all the details
And a phrase
Pseudo sobering:
"...just as a fool thinks he's God."
Well, think about that bit well.
You'd think this stupidity,
about there being a fool somewhere, makes it clearer.

I say:
No one ever existed anywhere but me.
There's no one to justify myself to.
I, too, was ashamed of the pettiness of the world and myself, at first.
But then this simple thing suddenly became clear.
From that height everything seems so petty, so far away and so unnecessary.

It's not words, it's knowledge,
It's not everyone who can bear the realization
of responsibility for everything in the world.
and then I thought "home" and ended up here.

Don't you realize you're responsible for everything?
Anyway, I'm talking with whiskey from a bottle,
And I have a sneaking suspicion that you're a fake.
So don't even play the persona.
But I'm gonna play it back a little bit.
you know, just because I don't have enough money doesn't make me comfortable.
-Do you realize you're worse than bad? Nightmare.
-Yes. -Of course.
I told you, you can't surprise me with anything.
There's probably something, though.
Get out of that bottle right now!
Stop sitting there.
Maybe there's something more interesting to do,
than composing literary works.

(we've already written three volumes for the collected works.
Thank you, scholar monkey, congratulations to us sincerely).
Sorry Jeannie, who needs role-playing.
А? What ears?
A bottle of whiskey is certainly not Aladdin's lamp.
What? Why would I rub it? So you can make three wishes?
Then put on a thong. Yeah, we're just gonna go
cleaning the pool. I guess. Probably.
I was kidding, three wishes are still mine.
Okay, well, uh,
I guess this trip stream has to stop.
And sleep well.

/ All characters are fictional, all coincidences are coincidental /
(Well, actually, it's an attempt to reflect the onslaught of reality in words and after-the-fact, it's a shame.
But we need the result, and how it looks like - it doesn't matter at all.
And with shame with its well how many can I do I'm red as an apple already.
Maybe we'll talk about the concept of shame sometime).