Book: Duhless. The story of a fake man. Page 1

Indeed, the Shawarma - it's sushi for the poor. Quick, hearty and inexpensive.

Depression is the fourth "D" here did not say. Feared, and from which fled, not wanting to admit its existence. She's here everywhere. In a Cup of coffee, a plate of carpaccio, in the girl with a gray face, in the neon sign above the bar, a waiter who walks down the hall, as on hinges, that man emerged from the toilet and rubbing his nose. It is not just in the air. The air itself is based on it. It is the basis of everything.
Mummy trying to get rid of it. Doing all these unbelievable party, buy gorgeous things for unbelievable money (which, as seen above, do not have purchasing power, but rather symbolic), the same change your lovers and mistresses - mummies. Try to go crazy, which is also almost gone.
Here all along so fed up that I want to run, but nowhere else. The range of displacements is limited to the area of mummies. All these resemble one another salons, shops, clubs and restaurants. Littered with the same magazines and the same visitors. You would be happy to talk to people, but they don't understand, and those that understand themselves almost mummy.
Do area. The length of your sentence here is not known. You here no one planted, you just chose your way. The reverse is not expected. Left to wait patiently when exhausted your physical shell and all the stops. The only issue that you sometimes tormented: who is the head area that controls it all? Who drives the processes and selects the characters that you want to emulate?
Sometimes you come to the conclusion that this boss is you. Although it would be better to answer it in another way: everyone here lives in a vault built by himself. Everyone chooses his heroes and is chief. And all the crypts and the characters are the same for all, because mummies can't be different. Mummies are United by a common space. A common religion. It is called lack of spirituality.

Of course, it is much easier to roll up the inner emptiness dress code and sit with mummy in a cafe "Pyramid" or bar "Ramses", looking at the photos party people, than to live a human life, with its challenges, victories and defeats. Every person has a purpose in life. In the world of mummies, it is not. As there is, indeed, of life itself. There is only existence in the atmosphere of emptiness.

I'm very tired to fight with boredom, tired of aimless partying, empty friends and Basmanova weekend. I just really need to believe. And I just wish there was someone who could tell me that everything really changed for the better... I really wish this was the moment when I no longer want to hide their emotions.

You know, sometimes I think you just need to calm down and stop trying to do stupid things. Just look around and see that you are surrounded by so much love and you just don't want to notice it. And sometimes I'm really scared for you. In fact, you're very good, just playing at being a cynic. And you don't need any mask, you just need to give yourself a shake, and all will be well. Just trust that all will be very good.

Moscow similar to the one big firm that doesn't allow access to porn sites, however, all Jack off with at lunchtime, agreeing with the system administrator.

The situation is not a whore, bought for three hundred dollars. It's either there or not.

My advice to you. If you see an interesting community of people hitting you with depth of philosophy or the possession of pen, in no case do not look for meetings with them in reality. Enjoy at a distance, if you don't want to be disappointed again.

Indeed, the entire Network mask for unclaimed. Who doesn't need a mask - not the desired Network.

I find myself thinking that almost every day talking to people, in an effort to quickly get rid of them, complete nonsense, without thinking about the meaning, and especially over what impression my words make on him... considering the fact that I get from people in a similar way quite often, you can come to two conclusions: either I has long been considered a total idiot, or most of my interlocutors are complete idiots who don't care to listen to. Both findings are crappy and do not inspire any positive surrounding me really.

I'm starting to think that, in essence, there is nothing more disgusting than the abuse of other people's feelings. We are so diligently doing it because we have nothing like it. And judging by the style of life, and never will.

How many do not say "halva, halva" in the mouth will not become sweeter, shit it is shit.

Most of all we hate something drawn that we so carefully copied are jealous of what you wish it to possess.

- Look, what I write, I say Bear. - "Our country is similar to the settled communal flat, which entered the new owners are trying to build. In each room, their particular mess. While settlers change the plate, they have burst the faucets in the bathroom..." How do you like this passage?
- Complete nonsense. To me personally, our country resembles a five-room apartment in the center of Moscow, which had inherited from a second cousin aunt young fuckface suffering from idleness and alcoholism. The apartment is huge and stuffed with all sorts of Antiques that this guy is selling promatyvaya money in pubs and the women.