"My cock doesn't work" or Dear Kristina,

I am fucking suffering. Last time I was drunk I woke up at 7 o'clock and went right to the toilet, you know, to puke. And it felt so fucking good. Now darling, I am watching Skins and I love Chris and Jal. I would love to take you know, drugs? and have fun with you in South Africa. Oh, that would be abso(fucking)lutely awesome. Marvelous. When I was drunk  in a Russian club ( that was last friday) I wanted to pay my drink, but instead of just offering my money to a foreign person, I started kissing him. That was fun. Ginger boy. Ginger world. Une barbe a poivre et sel. Hallucinations. Artaud. Simon Claude, I understand that you are searching for the lost time too, like Proust and Modiano did, but you suck. That is the fucking difference. My Gosh, me too, I always am searching for my fucking past. I had some great past. I had fun. Some professors at my university  suck. How to tell them that without being misunderstood. How to tell some sucking fucking shithead professors that they are just not really doing their work, the way they should. But, you know, fuck it, I just don't care. Puke. That's it. Like Pelevin would write, " Just be", " Just do it". Anyway what is the difference between the statements " Just be" and " Just do it" . People, who just are, bore me to death. People who just do it, they are great. I am talking shit. Doesn't matter. Anything matters in life.