Пятнашке - Отрывок из книги - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I don't like stories. I love moments. I love the night more than the morning, the moon more than the sun, and here and now, more than anyone somewhere later. I also love birds, mushrooms,

blues, peacock feathers, black cats, blue-eyed people, heraldry, astrology, bloody detective stories and ancient epics, where severed heads feast and talk with friends for years. I love to eat and drink delicious food, I love to sit in a hot bath and roll around in the snow, I love to carry everything I have and have everything I need at hand. I love speed and the pain in my stomach from fear when you accelerate so much that you can no longer stop. I love to scare and be frightened, to make you laugh and puzzle. I like to write on the walls so that it is unclear who wrote it, and to draw so that no one will guess what was painted. I like to paint on walls with or without a stepladder, using a spray can or squeezing the paint directly from the tube. I love using a paint brush, sponge and finger. I like to first draw an outline and then fill it in completely, leaving no gaps. I like the letters to be the size of me, but I also like them to be very small. I like to direct readers with arrows here and there, to other places where I also wrote something, I like to confuse my tracks and place false signs. I like to tell fortunes with runes, bones, beans, lentils and the Book of Changes. In films and books I love hot countries, but in life I love rain and wind. I generally love rain the most. And spring, and summer, and autumn. Anyone and always. I like to reread what I read a hundred times. I love the sounds of the harmonica when I play myself. I love it when there are a lot of pockets, when clothes are so worn that they seem like their own skin, and not something that can be taken off. I love protective amulets, such that each one is for something separate, and not collections for all occasions. I like to dry nettles and garlic, and then shove them into anything. I like to smear my palms with emulsion, and then peel it off in public. I love sunglasses. Masks, umbrellas, antique furniture in curlicues, copper basins, checkered tablecloths, walnut shells, the nuts themselves, wicker chairs, old postcards, gramophones, beaded jewelry, triceraptor faces, yellow dandelions with an orange center, melted snowmen dropping their carrot noses , secret passages, evacuation schemes from a building during a fire alarm; I like to sit nervously in line at the doctor’s office, I sometimes like to scream so hard that everyone feels bad, I like to throw an arm or a leg over someone lying next to me in a dream, I like to comb mosquito bites and predict the weather, I like to store small objects behind my ears , receiving letters, playing solitaire, smoking other people's cigarettes, digging through old papers and photographs, I love to find something that I lost so long ago that I have already forgotten why it was needed, I love to be dearly loved and the last hope of those around me, I love my hands - they are beautiful - I love driving somewhere in the dark with a flashlight, I love turning one thing into another, sticking something to something and connecting it, and then being surprised that it works. I like to cook inedible and edible things, mix different drinks, tastes and smells, I like to treat my friends with hiccups with fright. I love too many things, the list could go on and on.

I don't like watches.

Any.

For reasons that are tiresome to list. Therefore, I will not do this.