Notes of a Tipsy Man

Everyone has gone mad. Everyone has gone mad. Everyone has gone mad. Everyone has gone mad.

The fish now rots not only from the head, but also from the tail.
There are more and more vampires, fewer and fewer donors — a shortage of blood.
Loving people suck us more than others. That’s why we love them.

Before, Russia was famous for fur, forests, and women. Now the women have become businesslike, strong-willed. Before, when everything became unbearable, one woman could replace it all. Now it’s impossible to find that one. Maybe because the eye has adjusted, feelings have dulled, vigilance has weakened. If such a person flickers by, you won’t even have time to notice her.

And men too. Those who couldn’t marry (war) were replaced by those who don’t want to marry. What for, to take it on? There’s enough of that already.

For the intelligentsia, instead of ideas and passions — gossip. It’s called information.
In art, more and more tasters have multiplied. Like this, with the tongue: C… C… it’s outdated — now you need what…
Before, from above they told what and only what art had to be. Now progressive tasters decide what and only what it should be. A single-seat tram.

Right now, for example, it has to be scary. In black cars, in beige sheepskin coats, they arrive to watch a play from the life of communal apartments — from the life of insects.

True, the war was still scarier than even this kind of theater.
Time — time itself has become so much smarter! It has highlighted our stupidity. And now in thoughts and conversations anything becomes possible. Almost. Only now we understand even more than…