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Thesis proposal
Istvan eye
sziren_moritz wrote in bpsociety

Thesis proposal

- I’m still a misanthropic dick. I still hate people.
- You just enjoy it more. So where you were drinking? With whom?
- At the Danube quay, alone.
- Yep, and some things don’t change.

- Do you still believe in things that you wrote?
- Mmm…
- So, don’t. There is no language and no culture for what you want to say.
- I know.
- I pity you.
- Why?
- Cuz you won’t find any kind of language in which you would want to express yourself. There is no place for you. Even if you invent some new language, you’ll still need the reference with the previous ones, otherwise it won’t simply exist.
- So you want to suggest that the best way is to kill myself. This, as a result of my senseless being?
- Maybe.
I sit. I sit down and down. Nothing else matters. But there is one thing – my nervous system is still active, even if I’m drunk, stoned, beaten. I cannot help it. It comes and goes. I don’t have to believe in it. Just drum. Just drum and drum. Even most exquisite tracks are not for you.
- Did you ask that or I just thought?
- Does it matter?
- Yes. Because I want my last illusion. I want to live my last days as I’ve never been here, I want to listen to the music that fills stereotypical heaven, I want to feel a body which is untouchable, I want to kiss the lips which are hidden from my eyes.
- Kiss a suicide-bomber.
- Again! Why do you press me to the ground? Ah, it’s all violoncello, just it. There’s nothing to that, only these vibrations. The voice is just a paper around, weathered leaf, no meaning. Words – no meaning. All I want is to melt into some grayscale photo and rest there forever. A girl, loved, behind me, kissing my shoulder at the moment I disappear.
- Romantic, pathetic…
- So be it. Two pathetic boys from Charleville and Aberdeen chose this way, why can't I?
- Cuz you’re too mature for this kindergarten.
- So you want me to blow my head off when I’m sixty? Hemingway, Dr.Gonzo…
- Why not? You’ll be too tired to live, your bones will be like powder and heart like sponge. You’ll have no exit.
- But why she didn’t agree to go with me uphill? That one time! Regardless of…
- She wanted to live and to see your biological children, did she?
- So that some primitive dick would prevail and kiss them goodnight? No way!
- This is your only choice, otherwise… but otherwise, you’re a douche to swallow a barrel tonight.
- Yes, yes I am.
- So why do you complain? Write a paper, write the whole bunch till you’re Zweig’s character, ha!
- I’ll go to Paris and bury my youth there. Scratching my head – I just don’t have a good beat, good voice. When she’ll caress me – I’ll be destroyed, I’ll start to hate her. The first moment is always the last.
- Your argument is inconsistent.
- I can’t be otherwise. I need to start a new religion or to kill myself. I told you – I’m a bastard, I have no legal right to live. Night bus is the only friendly thing. Sleep and rest there, so the day won’t catch you.
- You always expect perfection.
- I do, but… I also wanted to live with and through it.
- That’s impossible.
- At least I tried. Greed. I wanted to “have” perfection, but instead destroyed myself. At least I understood that I’m useless and so is everything else.
- Winter. Her eyelashes. Snow’s falling…
- It doesn’t exist.
- Her body. Morning. Scent of her breast…
- It doesn’t exist.
- Tears. Mutual. Your text…
- It doesn’t exist.
- Ok.
- So… you’ll leave me?
- Of course. What else should I do if you don’t exist? You don’t even have to kill yourself physically, it does not matter.
- Thank you. It’s violoncello. Bury me with it.
- No. It doesn’t exist too.

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How Beckettian of you :)

na-ah, it's a poor pseudo-existential, there no brilliant absurd of Beckett's.
yep, and when you post smth, you can tag it just like I did and marked yours (read a bit later)
by the way, suggest anything you would like to include into community's interest/description etc. - I'll post this notice on the top.

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