landscape sketch 12. 03. 2024

that hillbilly grandpa with the beard--
is also a princess!
Boys, save all the princesses!
They're in the hands of a maniacal sorcerer,
and they're afraid to break free from their captivity,
They all have Stockholm syndrome.
The fairy tale will have a good ending!
Guys, save all these princesses!

Do you like Japanese literature?
Briefly, please?
These kids were four years old.
Brother and sister, they drowned in the ocean.
They were washed ashore.
They already had tiny crabs in their nostrils.
but they felt a terrible thrill
as the current pulled the sand from beneath their heels.
before the wave hit them.
The thrill of anticipation.
Well, the nanny only turned away for a second.
The thrill of the wave receding,
it's certainly not the same mood,
that's in the air right now.
It's a different hue, but the phrase "dreadful spring"
hadn't occurred to me before.

(you're a bad fiction writer and you're not a writer at all.)
Sorry, it's the voice in my head getting in on the conversation.
I'm going to tell everyone that you encouraged them to burn down their house.
I apologize.

I'm always recognized. I don't remember faces.
The security guard came over to say hello.
-I'm sorry, do I know you?
-Well, you came in before New Year's. -You did.
Of course, who remembers the security guards at the store?
Sometimes I can be really tactless.

But it's a supermarket. There's a million people in there.
I've always been recognized
by random acquaintances on the road
In five-lane traffic
behind the window of my unwashed car.
We saw you and honked at you!
Thank you. Who are you? What do you want?
Friends, I'm a typical introvert.
I swear I'll cut off my nose, I want to be less conspicuous.
I think that's the point.

Oh, that's a ricochet!
He's a young mountain man in a wheelchair.
His chubby woman has her legs hanging off a bar stool.
It's just a storefront bar.
I caught a glimpse of his chubby Jasmine from under the visor.
Yeah, I was thinking.
He caught my eye. He intercepted my thought, I swear.
Well, that's a good reaction.
You can't even see his eyes from under my visor.

His look is a gunshot.
Well, that just ricocheted off mine.
She-he-I-she-mis.
Oh!
I guess where your feet are.
I wasn't even looking at you.
Men don't look with such hatred
at a woman in a cap.
Are you having problems in your head?
what do I have to do with it?

Jasmine didn't notice the shooting.
Her fate was tragic from the beginning.
I just want to drink my pomegranate juice
and leave right away.
There's no need to be so nervous.

You don't know how to tell a story or write.

That voice, it's the one who encouraged you to burn down your house,
And he calls everyone an idiot all the time, all the time.
He wanted to get a job as a waiter and spit in your salad.

And now he's singing:
"That old hillbilly grandpa with the beard is a princess, too.
And he ain't got no pink ruffles
but only socks and rubber boots.
And a poverty he fears he'll lose,
mistaking it for the predictability of winters and years.
Boys, save all the princesses.
From themselves.

You're not a poet and you can't sing.
But you're loud:
(Don't ask me what I think of singers. What are you squeaking?)

(Who's the voice in my head I'm confused)

GUUYs, sAve yoUrs prIIIncessEs.
Soome mAy be toads
And grandfathers with beards
They're waiting to be set free
From their own selves.
Drop drop drop.

DeepL all create

- Do not write! you have to be as invisible as a mouse!
hide, don't make noise, and then die quietly.

(This collective conformist unconscious probably gave its voice.)
Well, no.
I didn't catch what you said.

- so that what you feel and think that no one would ever know.
naive mice, everyone will see right through you.

- write something landscape, lyrical..
"landscape"? Isn't that what it is?
I even think it’s almost like still life.