What the fuck are you supposed to do on a boring Sunday afternoon, when it’s too cold to go out, there is nothing interesting on TV, music fails to thrill you and you have forgotten your phone charger at one of your many part-time jobs? When you have just turned all your dreams into real projects, and you have nothing left to dream about?
Of, course, drink some beer (several cans, actually), scratch your cat’s head, listen to its tender purr and dream of a new muse. Not necessarily a human one. By example, I was in love with a spider that lived in my grandparents’ bathroom. I was five. At seven, I fell in love with a peculiar green-haired doll. I loved it to the verge of insanity. Once, we went to the seaside and my parents forgot to pack the doll – and I spent the first night screaming and weeping. They had to ask someone to bring the doll the next day.
Then, at ten, I was in love with Karl May’s Winnetou, and dreamed to have his babies. Just another of my obsessions.
Right now, I feel empty and dry, like a TV commercial. The following song is also from a TV commercial. Long live advertising!