From dawn till dusk I exhaust myself
with the desire to suck the dick.
Since I know myself, morbid fear
of people, of the pallor of their faces.
Now I know the reason for it: specifically
that, since I was still a child (a polymorphous
pervert) what they did, did not interest me.
The same thing today. I find no reality
in their deed and the fear of them makes
me absolutely incapable of collaborating
in all they do. I feel excluded from their
acts, I am a good-for-nothing. But when I
show them my tongue fluttering it in the air
like a snake they are moved like some matrons,
chiefly the old Jews, I fall on my knees
and they caress the crown of my head
and I suck their dick to exhaustion
and then I feel like a cogitator as cynical
as Diogenes -- What is the fellatio? A gratuitous
demi-act. In this world of cannibals wicked is
every man who does not suck. Everyone keeps
guard on everyone and I am preparing to become
the most terrible executioner. Judging by certain
signs that's what my father also wanted to be:
he had Gypsy habits.
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