subota, 05.02.2005.
izgubljeni u prijevozu
bilo je to prohladno zimsko poslijepodne neposredno prije mog puta u zagreb. umirala sam od dosade i uzajamno se nervirala sa starcima. moju visoku nervozu pojačala je vijest na teveu da je promet u lici kolabirao poradi snijega, leda, inja, poledica, buganaca, smrzotina, grada i inih vremenskih sraćki.
to je značilo da moramo djelovati brzo, jer smo pošto-poto htjele stići do zagreba, i tili čas promijeniti sredstvo transporta do istog.
u burnim telefonskim konferencijama kroz to popodne mara & moi smo se dogovorile da ćemo krenut tu noć vlakom.
i bi tako...
na šibenskom željezničkom kolodvoru radi barba čija je inteligencija niža od prosječne siječanjske temperature na zavižanu.
nakon njegovih par izmota dao nam je karte. povratne. s rokom trajanja od 6 dana.
što se pokazalo kao iznimno glup potez jer nam drugi barba, onaj na zg kolodvoru, reko da nam te krate ne vrijede jer se vozimo i kroz ponediljak, a to je već 7 dan.
tu je uslijedio moj apsolutni popizd (u 7 ujutro, nakon neprospavane noći), pa su se ćudoredne zagrebačke gospođe u raskošnim bundama od nerca, činčila ili drugih ispaćenih životinja krstile i afanavale.
uglavnom, iživcirana kakva jesam bila, uletila sam u prvi tramvaj na koji smo naletile.
broj tramvaja smo pogodile, ali ne i smjer, što smo zaključile kad smo došle do autobusnog kolodvora.
a mi tribale do černomerca...
al dobro, nakon par prokliza, istegnutih ramena i laktovam sretno smo stigle do doma toploga.
u idućih pet dana nismo imale većih incidenata sa sredstvima javnog prijevoza.
priča se nastavlja na povratku.
dakle, odlučile smo igrati prljavo i odjebati njihove rezervacije i druge administrativne sraćke.
pa smo ušle u vlak s kartom kojoj je rok trajanja istekao 48 minuta prije polaska. nakon par seljakanja iz kupea u kupe, naišle smo na jedan poluprazni. onu punu polovicu činila su dva luđaka. jedan malo mlađi i malo manje lud, a drugi total lud, ono baš klinički lud, star najmanje 50 godina, sijede brade i žarko crvene kose.
vrlo brzo smo odjebale bilo kakvu komunikaciju, uključile dicman i isključile se. kao i grijanje u vlaku.
lule & friend nestali su negdje u lici.
I čisto za evociranje uspomena...
Horror show
I've been following
Your minds instructions
Oh how just to slowly, sharply screw myself to death
Ah yes, there is a screw
It's pointed at my head
Then look a dream peddlar
And a stick of light through my bones
"Don't get on the wrong one"
"Oh you and you what's your game"
Laying me down to waste laying me down
Pin me up or put me down
Uh uh uh uh oh
Now let it all go
It's a horror show, you should come on round
Horror show, the horse is brown
Uh uh oh left something in Moscow
She said "I'll show you a picture
A picture of tomorrow
There's nothing changing
It's all sorrow
Oh no please dont show me
I'm a swine, you don't wanna know me"
....
- 03:53 -
pljuni... (1) -
...pa prilipi -
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And maybe you're the Circle Line girl, trying so hard not to let on you know I'm looking at the way your toes poke out through your sandals, at funny angles to your feet, and how you know it turns me on
Or maybe you're the Spanish girl, playing with your hair as you wait for your friend in that wild octagon of mirrors the Tate calls a coffee shop ..... And I can smell that hair from here, and I can see from eight different angles the way your nipples look through that thin black cotton top, reflected to infinity ..... And oh God it's places like that and purple-tipped prose like this, that's going to haemorrhage me girl .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
Or maybe you're the bay window girl in Wandsworth Town, in ripped jeans and open venetians, painting the difficult corner of an empty room white under a naked bulb, leaning across the bar at the top of your stepladder at the precise moment I'm passing on the steep street at the bottom of your garden in the gathering night ..... voyeur's delight
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
Or maybe you're the foundation painter at the Central School, looking so fine-boned I could carry you home in your portfolio case, laced up gently so you won't cry out on the bus and give the game away, tied up lightly, because girl, how could I knowingly injure someone with your perfect lips and wrists, your exquisite structure ..... Oh little acrylic painter, I can kiss eggshells, I can be ginger, all the critics say I'm such a sensitive singer .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
And maybe you're listening to my voice now, on your Walkman or your bedsit Dansette, letting my songs slip into you on this quiet night in with your pads of doodles and your fingers full of pencils and low tar cigarettes ..... And the music's light and pleasant so you hardly notice what I'm singing about in 'Paper Wraps Rock' and 'Murderers, the Hope of Women', my voice is just a sound that pleases you, that enters you and leaves you just the same, and that's how I want it to stay, because, you know .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
But some of those were bitter records, records which accuse women, girls like you, of using your attractiveness wantonly and wilfully to trap and to paralyse men who wanted you and could never have you, men who sometimes felt the perverse urge to trash the women they desired the most, men who imagined they despised all those immaculate visions ..... what adolescent crap, what kind of idiot would sing that? Oh, not me because, you know .....
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
But sometimes I think that every man who writes, every man who paints or composes, deep soul or symphonies, it makes no difference, all those men are only making do with substitutes: Solomon, Confucius, Franz Kafka, they'd never have done it if they'd been as beautiful as you, sitting cross-legged there with gentle music lapping around a promise, there where your thighs meet, of fertility a million artists couldn't compete with
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
And all the time I see you there in the eye of my mind, and all that cheap macho stuff about de Sade and misogyny vanishes into thin air and I'm moved to tears just like any other sucker who's been bruised by all the things that weren't to be, and yet who's ready to fall down on his knees in front of a woman and say "Whatever you may do, whatever you may be to me, despite the times we disagree, your ridiculous ambitions, your conventional inhibitions, I want you to know that I respect you, I accept you and I want you to accept me, I want to kiss you, kiss your stockinged knee, accept the uniquely soft flesh on the undersides of your hips"
Ooh it's true:
Girl I'm only doing it to be closer to you
glupe, besmislene i nadasve komične svakodnevne izjave...da niste ni svjesni koliko su glupe
1. pribit ću te ko vola u kupusu (???)
2.ubiti oko (livo ili desno?)
3.najebat ko žuti (kako to žuti, pobogu, najebaje?)
4.ritko na plitko
5. ...puca pogled
6. obukla si se u široke gaće
7. raspojasa si se
8. jadna ti maništra
9. pijan ko majka
10. prodavat muda pod bubrige
11. s koljena na koljeno
12. na licu mjesta
13. nisan ja veslo cica
14. na sto muka
15. na po uha
16. aj ti tuda
17. baš si neka (kakva?)
18. idi doma gazit zelje
19. za babino brašno
20. ni vrit ni mimo
)