Pre-war

Fucking drug abuse to fucking solve the problems of occidental first world civilization. Fucking leather and chains.

Much too noise motherfucking since everyone’s birth. This is pure destruction, the most brutal stabbing of the Truth nude and sweating under the pale sky of Hell, through which some fucking stupid in bermudas just watches television.

This is the most important moment on Earth. This is your most be–accurate move of all time. There is a step to be taken.

Acquaintances

In an evening of an incipient, warm and disordered –as the other months– october...

– We are like one in a sense. It is a pennis waving as a flag post. It’s a waving post; starrs on a West Point military graveyard under a clear vast sky.

– Tell me about her –said the doctor. The clock pointed 23:23 but it wasn’t working at the time.

– Make a circle round yourself and tell me how it feels– added the Doctor.

But Ronnie said after a pause:

– We’ve got time, lots of time to play games with my mind, Doctor, but right now I just need some listening comprehesion, get it?

The Doctor fixed the position of his glasses, leanned back and made a assertive gesture in silence. Ronnie went on:

– A military graveyard with an enourmous white plane in it’s middle. It’s a shining plane, and I could not tell you whether it is a real one or a fully achieved sculpture. Anyway, the plane –and this is why I couldn’t tell– begins to fly in a floating way, as a zeppelin would, and it just flies away and fades into the distance. Then it begins to rain. And the sound of rainning fills the sky. And the sky starts getting darker. Only some neon powder clouds mix with outer space blue as below, under my boots, an infinite paramount’s held by an everlasting horizontal never ending kiss.

– You are doing it again, Ronnie. You are getting much too excited, and we had agreed we were not going to allow that, didn’t we?

– Oh, come on, Doctor, leave it, put it out. I’m sick of your complaints. It´s like a silly moaning that always comes to bother the patient. Be a good professional at least.

– Look Ronnie, you are begining to annoy me with your constant remarks, and this is not the way for a good patient-doctor comunication.

– How not, Doctor? I think I am being very comunicative. Fucking hell now.

– Listen, I am not going to tolerate this in my own therapy, you noisy bastard– said the Doctor standing up and walking firmly towards the door.

– What? Fuck you, motherfucker.
Ronnie took his jacket and headed towards the door. When he’d just walked out, he heard the Doctor say:

– Fuck you, asshole.

– Fucking bastard son of a bitch! Motherfucker!... – Ronnie turned round and jumped forwards against the Doctor, but the Doctor had quickly closed the door and was going towards the phone to call the police while Ronnie hitted the door ashouting.

Ronnie calmed down a little and heard the Doctor speaking inside. He thought for a second, started to run, jumped into the stairway corridor and ran down the stairs as fast as he possibly could.