Mea culpa and six inches

Oh infernal natures
All the bastardism is rushing out.
Tomorrow, tomorrow everything will be better.
I want a holiday greatness franchise
We will do it everywhere and every day.
Insignificance and complacency are the taste of gourmet!

I! You! We are destroyers, rogues and scoundrels!
This is the song “Ivan Govnov” sung by the holy fool Egorka
Back in the old days. O mea culpa!
Nothing in human nature changes.
And the consolation is that they are no better than these.
Taking upon himself in righteous anger
the righteous role of the injured party.

And the petty bourgeois sits quietly in the revolutionary.
A brochure about freedom, equality and brotherhood, chastely covering the shame.
And out of resentment, not at himself, he will kill everyone
and yourself, in the end.
But he will not give up his sacred right to remain a victim.
Nothing in human nature changes

And it is better to know and have no illusions than not to know.
They would all run away if the doors were opened.
But those who are safely on the bourgeois side will not open the doors
They are scoundrels because they are exactly the same as on the other side,
one to one.
The more proud one is of oneself, the more one suffers and vice versa.
And the stage of this play should never be empty.

Communists are a fiasco, you took away the exploiter
And the exploited became bitterly bored.
How can we now complain about the villainous fate?
Here hell came out from all the cracks.
The theorists also say they freed me.
And the mechanism works the same to this day.
Populist,
let them complain and be proud at the same time
and they are yours forever.


All imaginable disasters will help us!
From bad to worse forward!
You are a being of the highest order!
Here's a bowl of ideas for you!
My fault? Excuse me, no, they are the ones to blame for everything.

We will always point the arrows at anyone.
The main thing is not to bear responsibility yourself.
Let me be a purulent pimple in peace!
What other model of life is there in this world?
Let us remain decidedly pitiful victims of circumstances!
And maybe we will even be forgiven in the end
If we behave with proper obsequiousness.
And there are no other people on the planet. And why are we worse than them?
Ivan Govnov is not Russian, can you imagine?
he's a household name
You could say international.

Well, Lady Death didn’t give me an order to track down Selin.
But I also looked and, it seems, his shadow flashed in the nook.
It seemed like you couldn't grab it.
I am oppressed! otherwise, who should I hate if not everyone else?
Who dares to take candy from a child?
Little man, we will nurture this every day,
Until, from our petty importance, we swell up like a sea urchin.
Did you want to rob like in a bad brothel?
So we will leave without paying at all!
Yes, I am a proletarian, an oppressed class, and you are all just whores.
My fault? Whatever the case!
If not oppressed, then how to live then and why?!
Do you have a different paradigm?
I will kill everyone for the sake of good.

But they cannot impartially follow French philosophy.
They are heavy, she is light.
This is an irreconcilable class confrontation.
He died? Exactly? Bukowski, he died.
What do you mean you saw each other yesterday?
I can't grasp the damn ghosts.
These doctors are writers, there's something about them
from moths and the London Ripper
simultaneously.

Well, this is like a summary, a free retelling,
But the whole meaning was lost.
"who is guilty?" what a fool
will he show his nose in this place?
I am the proletariat, the real one,
But I’ve been playing here with pebbles and shells on the shore for a long time.
It is possible to move to another paradigm.
This is the kind of philosophy where a hurricane is like a breeze.
Well, Selen shadow just dropped the French pin from her pocket,
and I picked it up.
Perhaps he killed anyone with this pin, though
Stabbed me like a sword.
Crab! The guillotine is a window to the world! You knew that?
And, really, where from?
-------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------
The pin was not French, I had a red head
I swear I haven't heard this story before
We must rid the planet of our presence.
-Celine
This is an aesthetic choice.
We must prevent overpopulation of the planet -
Bukowski's Witch.
Yes Charles, we should cut you down to the size of your dick.
Everything else is extra size, excess.
I didn't say weight, give me pleasure.
Stick a pin right through her heart!
In the heart of this witch. She made you worthless.
This is an aesthetic choice. And it began to grow again.
This is a different answer.

Well, I'm a medium. I didn't know anything about the pin
It fell out of Selin shadow pocket.
When I thought I didn't like his conclusions.
I did not say.
Yes, I pretended to be sorting through stones.

Damn writers they were talking at the same time
From different sides. Bukowski brought the pin and this was the crime weapon.
How could I have guessed about her is incomprehensible
This is their conversation among themselves.
- Clearing the planet of incorrigible humanity is the only way out.
Aesthetic choice?
“Then shrink down to the size of your penis and give her pleasure.”
Because: she's a witch, overpopulation of the planet is a big problem,
the number must be reduced,
and you are sitting on a silver chain in her pocket.

He killed the witch with Selin pin.
It was a hat and not a French one, oh my God!
The French are yours and the swords were crushed.
I couldn't know about it.

Oh well, I'm a medium, damn me.
But in general, man,
Come here, stand on the radio and dance.
I'm stupid, I'll drink some wine, of course.
Men, answers about the path of human development -
neither one nor the other are satisfactory.

You, six inches - modest, but it will do.
Metaphors.
Yes, we are metaphorical.
I just don’t understand, what does this have to do with me?

Doctor, I hear voices
but these people were all mentally ill.
They speak into both my ears at the same time.
They have a dispute and have not come to a solution.
And yes, they are also dead.
And they lived in different places and times.
They're confused in their metaphors
And they came to me with them.

To me?
Did the mouse crawl under the cat trying to hide from the cat?
You, stand on the book and dance.
You, stand on the radio and dance and sing.
You've already arrived at the right size, beating yourself on the sides?
There are only women, but witches do not exist, these are fairy tales.
This fight club has an ancient history,
but don't talk about it out loud.

Six inches? Yes, just some kind of story.
I know who you were arguing with.
Yes, YouTube’s contextual algorithm gave me a hint today.
Well, I was just not satisfied with his conclusion yes mea culpa
Of course I pretended.
But six inches, your fucking is also so-so.
Well, you finished off a woman with a pin for the sake of height.

We are metaphorical, oh yes, of course.
Neither of you found the answer to this philosophical puzzle.
I know where you were looking.
the game is hot and cold and at times it was hot.
What were you looking for? The truth, of course.
No, no one bothered to ask.

Leave me alone, damn writers!
There's already a whole debate going on in my head.
Who is that lady there with the cigarette holder and in black?
She is as creepy as death in a black rag and with a scythe.
I am a simple, modest proletarian,
computer is my humble job.
And neither a philologist nor a linguist,
And an ordinary bourgeois lady.
What have I done wrong to you?
You'll have to read up on the topics about exorcism.
Welcome?

Did you say welcome?
Do you want to hear the opinion of an unbiased reader?
Have you shaped generations?
And congratulations.
We are not one of them.

Baudelaire, please come here, you will be the referee.
Isn't it fair that he already has a nosebleed?
Give me the pin and we'll talk without weapons.
A sword in my hands?
Please don't pay attention
It's such a simple costume accessory.

By the way, both works by the legendary Muramasa
Blades without sheath - stock incomplete, yes,
I don’t know, they were probably glued to their hands,
These blades have a special curse
If the sword is unsheathed
he'll drink blood anyway.
But there is no sheath, so I don’t take it out.
No, they eat little and are already full.
Sake? Tea?

Our fangs are in a different place, you know.
I am a plain woman and a modest hard worker.
Yes, an ass with a fist. Do not be afraid of anything. come.
Did he run away?
I can not believe.

Stop it, you devils, please, I have a lot to do.
Look Mr. Whiskey, we've already drunk ourselves to hell. Congratulations.
What do you mean, they were immeasurably further away?
Who measured it? Haven't even gotten out the door yet?
And that's good. I don't even walk at night.
There is no need to break my psyche, I don’t know anything.

And I don’t want to know, mind you,
I am a modest hard worker, an ass with a fist.
The medium can break this crystal ball
and you will all be homeless altogether. Yes.
Charles, did you pay for the room? And I knew it!
Rogues.

______________________________________
I swear I didn't know about the pin and couldn't have known yesterday that it was a crime weapon.
But I knew and that’s exactly what I said, how can this be?
They scattered fish hooks and pins in the corridor! French pins, hat pins, with a red pin, whatever else, and they left - anyone could step on and pierce the leg.
I'll evict the hell out of everyone, they've set up a brothel here out of a decent head.

Yes, there was such a case: I left a fishing hook on the veranda when I was unwinding the fishing line, I was young and I was almost killed for this. And now I also know how to step on a hook with my bare foot. (these are pins!) leave me alone there are hooks here from somewhere too.
And I'm even afraid to find out where they came from. This fish revenge may have materialized.

Do psychologists have anything to say here? Well, I won't be kind to them anymore. Just realize that you are insurmountably stupid, just accept it. Intelligence is not equal, it is not a matter of dominance, it is a given. But, alas, only a very smart person is able to admit that he is a fool. Psychologists, did you hear that well?

Shut up, please, whoever the damn literary man you are!
I'll evict everyone!
You didn't pay for the room and stole the towel!