Гриша Куква – (c) Arthur Poghosyan (страница 2)
– You've ripped the contract…
– I DON'T CARE!
He wanted to object, but I spat at him and… Accidentally hit him directly in his mouth, that thing made him suffocate and cough for a long time. I used this moment to run out. This very evening, I got it: there is no fate at all.
Just like any religion, fate is an artificially grown concept, approved by the brain of the highest nexus in the food chain. It is like someone much more intelligent than human, pushes this golden connection between irresponsibility of his actions and wonderful opportunity to justify himself. This kind of friendly and warm hand, which helps to absorb an unpleasant and annoying feelings of guilt and anxiety. Fate in its core loudly screams that: «YOU DON'T HAVE THE FREE
WILL,» which is a great lie.
What is this all about? For what reason homo sapiens is that much in love with this fate conception? You know, maybe it is like a blissful salvation for a person, who just by nature between truth and lies chooses deception, illusions and sunglasses, in which pink shade of his own reflection with significant fanaticism will successfully emphasize his own attractiveness.
Finishing with my «Parliament Aqua» and watching the morning sight from the window I called Contact-Manager. The number doesn't exist they told. And then I went to bed.
(c) Arthur Poghosyan. Interview process with Contact-Manager around Mediterranean Sea, Sicily, 2016.
Contact-Manager #2
After working, I went home. Took off all clothes, lit up a candle and lay down under the blanket. I wished some woman will open my door, make me a dinner, fragrant her sweet perfume. Somebody knocked the door. Full of hope, I opened up.
– Anonymous message for Contact-Manager.
– Who are you?
Mail guy gave me an envelope, then turned back and disappeared.
«Holy…» – I thought.
$10,0 per day
Oh, good old Middlesex. Its English style. Cozy evenings on the right side of Thames River. Headphones are playing «Beatles» with their sensuous «Michele».
This is how we dressed long before… We worked hard to reach out the good taste, tamed the ornate tentacles of surrogated postmodern fashion… We were alive.
– What about now?
I'm working in a factory for $10,0 per day. What is that? Money? The head of technician department pushed my back while I was moving upstairs:
– God damn, son! HURRY UP! – and he ran ahead of me.
It was that moment when I felt an extreme thirst in using martial arts like combat sambo, but I just said:
– Why should I?
Hitting his back with this sharp question, I wanted to emphasize the superiority of my independence in front of a representative of a high-ranked class, and before he answered I spat at stupid boss jacket. But I didn't mention my lips were frozen due to winter, and the spit landed on my chin. As fast as possible I covered my face by hands and pretended like if I sneezed.
Boss had turned around and found something alarming in my eyes. I got one
thing straight:
«We will meet again…»
(c) Arthur Poghosyan. A compliment to the patent of deck lighting system with gas-discharge lamps for emergency purposes, USA, Ottawa, 2016.
Contact-Manager #3
Mail guy brought two text records in one envelope. I opened the second.
Whom I work for?
I miss Middlesex. The morning promenade through the sunlit campus. The great pinnacle of my youth. I was buying half a liter of «Fiji» and was inspired by Ayn Rand's «The Fountainhead». Holy saints, I didn't even have a scholarship and stayed damn happy. I wanted to die young…
Finishing with reading an article of Vedic philosophy's impact to Nikola Tesla's free energy comprehension, I was going to work. There was «Gut's Theme»
playing on a laptop, while my branded cream pea-soup with mushrooms has been cooking. Mushrooms should be fried first, mixed up with vegetable oil, sour cream and tomato paste – taste a life of luxury.
After stepping out of bus, I saw some woman sitting on a concrete. That’s why I started sortingall of my coins fast, but I couldn't just throw her a single coin, so I shifted the whole banknote from my wallet to her paper cup.
– Why I gave her money?
I went home, had a beer and decided not to give a single penny to anyone who’s sitting on a concrete again. Because I didn't even understand why I did it before.
What if it was an Evolution itself which wanted to exсlude people like this woman?
And I was just stopping the development of all humanity by shifting
banknotes from my wallet to a paper cups. Besides, how could my money help this woman when even I was a beggar, who tried to survive by working in a factory while getting an education.
Soon I became aware about this woman grabbed much more money than I ever did! She had a boss! What the hell I was doing? Well, now I know the real truth.
(c) Arthur Poghosyan. Confession on Joe Rogan's podcast, February 2016.
Contact-Manager #4
After mail guy's visit, I started digging info about Arthur Poghosyan. There was nothing about Arthur Poghosyan. Meanwhile his text records kept coming continuously. This time, new envelope was needed to be found in the forest.
There was a police patrol which saw me walking alone surrounded by trees and also holding the phone. Seems like I was looking suspicious for them, they obviously thought I was a junkie who was searching for his dope. They started to run rapidly towards me. I stood still and asked them as confident as I could:
– Are you running after me?
They answered:
– Yes.
And then they asked me to show up the phone's display. I showed it up and all suspicions got left. I was clean.
«Handballand»
I was driving home from work by bus full of hope and people. And I found out myself standing under the engine. The sole of the shoes started to melt. I felt panic. And sorry about levitation courses which I skipped at past times.
The bus was stuck in traffic. I lost sense of time. Finally, there was a stop point
where people emptied the bus. And I sat down near one gypsy-woman with a kid.
Kid's shoes had a nice battle with my trousers. His shoes took a victorious win.
And trousers suffered a dramatic defeat.
Acting like Johnny Depp from Jarmusch movie, I went into supermarket. Took bananas, apples, a pack of Idaho peas and one yeast-free bread without sugar.
While Idaho peas has been cooking, I started my sport-exercises. After cooking and sporting I
took a cold shower and had a sense that the worst part of the day was gone.
Suddenly, I remembered my school and how participated in PE's Olympiad.
Besides my sport-skills (which were actually good), in this Olympiad I was required of sport history knowledge. On the paper of test there was a question:
– Name the country where Handball was established.
The question was without any answers below, so I just wrote «Handballand». As I was told a bit later, my «Handballand» act disgraced the school.
Oh God, good old days when I didn't have a job and a second job, didn't study at the university, didn't have a financial debt… It was just life.
I finished the dinner and settled down. An hour later I will be speaking about second job projects with another boss. For what sake? All I can say is just I can't stand the bus rides anymore.
(c) Arthur Poghosyan. Poetic technography, dedicated to the 3 rd part of the 1 st article of the Constitution of the Independent Republic of Handballand, three years before moving to London.
Contact-Manager #5