- Fucking Cunt, the special police officer said softly, and turned around and punched me in the jaw.
I collapsed on the cold concrete floor and already imagined what would happen to me next in this little black cell, while a colleague of this manly policeman tried to calm down a man who liked to spread his hands in front of the detainees. I had certainly heard about what happens here, not only to women but to men as well. Torture, violence, slow murders. But in my case, something went wrong and a second police officer picked me up off the floor and led me out of the torture chamber. I stood outside, in complete shock, it was warm and began to rain in light rain, which seemed to want to become a powerful downpour, but thought that maybe I’d had enough for one day. I walked home as if programmed, I had a goal of just getting home, closing the door behind me, and thinking about what to do next. My wet hair covered my face from the uninvited stares of people who had no idea what was going on right now, they were just going about their business, they were watching the news, they were planning their future, and they refused to believe or think about reality. Today I was playing by their rules.
- You can’t ruin a reputation where there is no reputation institution, I replied, wiping my black glasses and raincoat with a red handkerchief after being doused head to toe by a passing idiot at an intersection
Convenient Content. The amount of information is tearing up our balloon of normal 24/7. If you can’t tell the difference between truth and lies. If you are exclusively influenced by direct feeds. If a false memory has never failed you. If you’re tired. Or vice versa. The only question is how to make the very choice of which director’s reality you want to live in. Hint: I’m making a truth you’ll like. Or the opposite. Try me. I walked to the door of my entryway and a savage pain pierced me. It was a horrible sensation, like my face, my head was going to pieces like I’d been damaged like a sculpture and now I was going to fall apart, but slowly and painfully. I walked all this way, 30 minutes, and didn’t feel anything, and then it started. Plans change, it seems now I have to go to one of my least favorite places and try to save my existence. I’m going to the hospital.
- On the securities market, the leading toilette, said an expert of the central bank all in black and without her expensive brooch
If only someone knew what a powerful feat it is for me to cross the threshold of this building. Of course, I’d give a monument to anyone who decides to be treated here, but today is my day. The pain just keeps building up, as if trying to push me further. I swear, if the pain had calmed down, I would have immediately gone back home and forgotten about what turned out to be a broken jaw. But no. All those hours in the hospital, undergoing painful manipulations, I tried to remember as clearly as possible and not to forget the face of this rotten creature, who cowardly and vilely uses his power. I drew a portrait of him in my head, now and then erasing, now and then drawing the necessary details. From now on, he is my personal enemy, and no matter where he lives, no matter what he does, I will find him, and I will follow him until I figure out what to do next. I don’t have any special talents. Absolutely not. But I do have a little something special. I have an excellent memory, especially for faces. Now as I sip my coffee slowly from the straw, with the disgusting plaster on my jaw, I replay in my head this day and the faces of all the people who, like me, were frightened today, cornered, morally destroyed, and thrown in the trash. Beautiful faces, young faces, ambitious eyes, bold gait. How easy it turned out to be to break it all, to destroy it all at the root, to win it all back and win by their own nefarious method. Very easy.
- It is very difficult to destroy what is already dead, but I think I have succeeded, I answered a question from a journalist of a popular publication, which had been following me for several months.
It’s hard to call myself a coward, but I’m really scared now, what if? And then what if? What if? I’ve been told that fear is normal, it’s a self-preservation instinct, and it’s a big part of life. And I want to live and I want to live my life the way I want to live it. So now I’m going to go home and lick my wounds, and then there’s what comes next. You know. My name is Gosha, by the way. And this is my CHILLOSOPHY.
If you move in the direction in which your fear grows, then you are on the right track. Milorad Pavich