With the fire of the gun the men start to run,
there’s a purpose, there’s a distance,
but in the end you will always find the sprinters lonely on their tracks.
The loneliness that transcends time,
the loneliness that transcends space,
the loneliness that transcends numbers…
And all they want is to finish first…all they want is to bypass the catastrophe.
I guess the man who finishes first and the man who finishes last; are both similar kinds of geniuses.
And the men who are in the middle of this sensation are those who don’t have the guts to take the blast of creation.
Be on the watch for these middle men…
They are all around us…they don’t know romanticism and nihilism…
they don’t know the world of intimacy and the love of dystopian moods…
Drink a lot and don’t drink to be one of those.

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Painting: Shannon Keller.