Mittwoch, 4. Juni 2025
After a hard, cold period and a stroke of fate, Patrik asked me: Where should I go? I'm cold!Well, I sent him to Azerbaijan with the prescription: Buy Grandma Golnessa and her grandchildren a villa somewhere in the middle of nowhere, 3 kilos of opium, and stay there for 12 months. But send me photos of your drug withdrawal after 12 months of addiction. That's going to be really cold. Nice time.
Dienstag, 3. Juni 2025
Can you believe it? The doctor, psychologist, and therapist, who is committed to human values, is accusing me and blaming me for schizophrenia and paranoia. There was never a Stasi system in Austria that is call cybertorture with secret cameras today. You are sick, and I'm your therapist. So, a healthy person doesn't need to see people secretly masturbating in bathrooms.
I have no violent or criminal records or history in Vienna, but the psychologists and doctors want to blame even the smallest conflicts on paranoid schizophrenia. With so many Austrian fascists, Austrian psychopaths, Austrian fraudsters, and thieves, it's all a war of nerves or a psychological war with hidden evidence. Have you seen greater charlatans and bastards in Europe than the Austrian NAZI government? Or judges, police officers and prosecutors? Is there anything in the EU more despicable than Vienna and its citizens? As filthy, as filthy as in the days of Mauthausen. Bastard, never-ending, fucking fascism.
Yesterday's dream and visit by Mr. Jafari was a successful contract involving Reza Mallahi, police politicians, and judges. Commissions and protection money for crystal meth production (Iranians and Kurds in Vienna), distribution, facilitation, and impunity. Also a cleanup operation in poor districts through attempted drug mixing, i.e., in districts with foreigners.
Montag, 2. Juni 2025
I don't understand the excitement in chat rooms, especially among gay and lesbian judges: they've been the ones who established it over the past 24 years: art in my hands is worthless unless it's stolen or I'm cheated! What's the point of burning art, desecration of art, or the radicalism of a crazy cleric?
In any case, I believe the Italian painter shared my view at the end of the 19th century: the mummy was an empath, not a "no empathy", blood for color mixing wasn't a major concern. Many used it from killer pharaohs; I personally burned their masterpieces. Good night. And never paint with mummy corpse powder again.
I sometimes despair of hearing voices myself, but why every time I visit this Kanvas? I'm warmly greeted and received with a grown-up, childlike voice, "Heheh he heheh he, we're here too." Several times I thought it was a toy doll from the next compartment or storage room that reacts to noises, but then I think, "How long does your battery last?" or is someone playing with you and changing your battery? Hehehe he heheh he, where have you been? You rarely come, we haven't seen each other in a long time. I get scared too, namely of myself, if I decide to stay. No alarm will make a noise, because the motion detector reacts to movement after 10 p.m.
Sonntag, 1. Juni 2025
So if the white cloth used as an airbag didn't damage the canvas, and the glasses, crystals, and sculptures are all right, then it's a miracle, but what if I solve the problem on my own? Is there a solution? It probably happened around midnight when I was sleeping and someone wanted to come in. The key wasn't in the lock. I forgot it for the first time, and I didn't lock the door. Patrik you Asshole
In all seasons, if there were no wind, even trees would become incredibly scary, or even healthy roofs. It's as if the world stands still until something terrible happens. Not a hurricane, but a rain of fire, and the trees would burn, laughing. Knowing why and how is good; not knowing why is more terrible than the rain of fire, so crying and burning.
Patrik kept saying in the tent next to the beach: I don't know anyone like you, someone so emotionally affected by this song. What's it like for you? What connects you to California and that burned-down hotel? Well, I gave him my divan, and he read it and burned it down, too, a total of 200 pages. A divan is your birth certificate, passport, and your citizenship on Earth. So, I'm no longer a resident, just illegal.
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