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Бухло, бабы, поножовщина

Thoughts about carpentry. Part three

Liberal arts mean you play cards with a naked woman which is gonna leave you in the third act with blue balls.


Gold

With not such phrasing but Arabov tried to open our eyes on that thing. Our eyes were as a rule closed because one of us feared seeing this naked woman and others were deadly tired of spartan amazon con de nast row of these pigtaled whores.

So once in a while Arabov got a speech about something absurd, abnormal so we could turn our beliefs upside down. Like, rising tide lifts all the boats especially naive ones. So was me, too. There were cynical ones among us. You could see that during the lecture  its message just crashed. One edge one fringe was captured but not letting revisionary thinking be done. Boys tried to crack if Arabov was serious about that mystic crap or not. Girls had a crush on him  that is always enough to listen to anything... sometimes you girls wanna shut this mouth up by the borsch or the kissing but just sometimes and this depends on how old are you.

Krokhalev was the subject for one of such lectures. He was psychiatrist, worked in Perm. He explored hallucinations and even got pictures of these. I went out from that lecture being high. It blowed my mind. My body was teriffically raped. I had a headache. Then had a sore throat. I got home and fell asleep. Still I am not sure somebody had the same. We talked nothing about that. That was the earthquake before Covid was coming. Then it came and we got other shores so this collective seance of exorcism vanished from memory.

Not long ago I had a dream: my father and me are digging for potatoes and find out  this land is full of gold  and I am leaving the family forever because wanna not to see which changes gold will make.

So the same thing is about Krokhalev. There is something brilliant deeply in that but It is quite scary on the surface.

Most likely I am still rooted in my past. Looking at the eyes of monster has the date of departure but not now. Now It is delayed.

And looking at the naked woman stays my privelege.

Глеб Буланников

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