Interesting

Unknown Citizen: Standing Background

Constantly ringing in the ears. It’s quieter, then louder, but constantly. And someone is talking. There are almost no words to make out, but these two, a boy and a girl, are constantly talking. As if you are looking at them a little from afar and through the muddy glass. Not completely visible, not entirely audible, but all the time it’s phonetic. Going to bed and still can’t fall asleep: it’s very noisy in the head. And in the eyes slightly ripples.

The news is loud. People. Especially blondes, very loud. At unpleasant frequencies. Sharp. Advertising phonet. Weather. Police. ZhEK. Ringtones on mobile phones. They made you a special phone so that you don’t install your shit songs on the phone. No, we found a way, overcame the system. Now they do.

The neighbors are very loud, especially one, she always asks me if I have been living here for a long time, renting an apartment or bought it. She rustles a little and bursts slightly, and then picks so intrusively. And insinuatingly. And then again just a phonet. In the subway, people in a flock of penguins go downstairs and all together amusement, some are deceiving later, some have cowards sticking out of their pants. Some people really don’t like Caucasians and walk with crosses, but all merge into the general background.

Beginner musicians are very fond of: you go to the rehearsal base, and there from each room covers for Metallica - and everything merges into such a szz, causing slight nausea and disorientation in space. Fashionable people who have an event, then an explosion, a new word, and “there hasn’t been such a thing” are very loud, and “Poster” wrote about it.

A month ago, I was in the Arab market
in one faraway country. Millions of people,
noisy, everyone screams, runs, fusses.
But no one fonil

Very fonit yourself. If you believe the pyramid of Peter, the managers stop at a step higher than the one that corresponds, that is, each manager is on the social ladder a little higher than he deserves. You yourself and those around you usually jumped a whole span and waved away with all your might so as not to fall back into shit. And yet this is the feeling of the first guy in the village. You are not leaving because of this, because here, no matter what you do, it’s already good, well done and you got up over the shit, jumped over, and there still needs to be done something serious. You read a lot of lines, listen to new albums endlessly, shake at a disco, pour in circles, shots and beakers. And fonit round the clock, fonit, fonit, fonit.

A month ago, I was in the Arab market in one distant country. Millions of people, noisy, everyone screaming, running, scurrying around, cars standing, nobody working. We went down the street to the market, it was about six in the evening, thousands of people went for groceries, and for the first time in my life I was in a human traffic jam. The streams did not move, everyone stood and fuss. It was very loud. But no one fonil. I closed my eyes, the crowd shook me back and forth, everyone smiled and laughed at the situation: indeed, what stupidity is like people, but in fact herring.

And then we went to a concert of some group, just heard the music from the window. They were about forty years old, and the drummer was sitting next to him, about fifteen years old, knocking on bongos. This group all over the world was needed by 14 people, but it was beautiful and there was no background. Then there was a bar where, besides us, there was nobody, because what the hell is a bar in a Muslim country. It turned out that it was quite a bar with people and alcohol, the music played loudly, played darts, and no background.

And then I flew on a plane and on approach I heard this buzzing, with a slight shade of whipping and the smell of cattle: a drunk resident of Transbaikalia quadrilized some barmaid from Omsk.

I regret all the time that it is impossible to make visible all the lines of sound in the city - radio waves, voices, Wi-Fi, telephones - so that everyone just for a second sees how we really exist in this avalanche of white noise, creating and projecting, accumulating and consuming endless white noise. The first lesson my guitar teacher gave me when I was ten years old was that pauses are a full part of the music. So, music does not play here, because there are no pauses. And when I say music, as in a bad romance, I mean anything.

Live well there
Live well there
Live well there
Never come back
Live well there
Live well there
Live well there
Never come back.

Yesterday I talked with a deaf-mute boy, he was offered to have an operation and restore his hearing, but he refused. He was asked why. And he replied: "It’s easier to sleep like that." And I’ve been lying for the third hour and trying to sleep, and in the yard it’s already the end of the day, it just rings in my head. And the background.

Watch the video: The Law You Won't Be Told (February 2020).

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