# Kultura > Letërsia shqiptare > Krijime në gjuhë të huaja >  Pissing in the gene pool - by Henry Rollins (extracts)

## angeldust

I overheard some people talking. This girl was complaining about having to shell out money for each period. She said that Midol and tampons should be given away in welfare boxes. I had never thought of that before. that seems like an unfair shake to me. I mean, what if a guy had to put out a dime every time he took a piss. It would be nothing at first, but after a while those dimes would start to pile up and you might try and hold out to make that dime go a bit farther. Imagine saying, "****, I spent a buck on urine today!" What if you were into beer? What if you are out of $$$? What if you had to write a check? A credit card? What if you had to say, "Brother, can you spear a dime? I gotta piss." -YOU WOULD BE IN BLADDER HELL,PAL. THINK ABOUT THAT!

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## angeldust

.  .  .

Im sitting in an airplane. this airplane looks like a pregnant rat, skin pulled tight, belly distended, crammed full of little rat babes. The passengers in this plane are just like me, hoping that this stupid looking thing wont crash. If you toss a pregnant rat off of a rooftop it will smash like a ripe melon upon impact.   The mother will be twisted and shattered, the bloddy, greasy unborn will be scattered and broken, thats whats going to happen when this heap drops from the sky like a stone vulture:  shattered mother in a heap, stomach torn open and greasy babes in suits and dresses and unscratched Samsonite luggage. Nice thing about Samsonite luggage, those suckers are really built to take it! Crash with 'em, hose the guts and fuel off 'em, use 'em again!

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## angeldust

Sometimes it gets so cold in here
I want to build a roaring fire
using my body for kindling:
another man torches himself in his cell.
It happens all the time
and I know why.
Existence can be such a freeze out and you could wait forever for a warming touch
you could freeze solid
waiting.
Better to burn than to freeze, I think.
Incinerate.
Turn to ash.
If you dream in you sleep tonight 
and your dreams are of the sun
touch me
I feel so cold tonight.
..................

I put myself in the night room
filled the place with pictures of death
built a cold fire inside the night room
I let it burn
I sit alone
and tend the fire
that burns cold and solid blue.
...................

Come back?
No, no, no,
you cant come back
cross your heart
and hope to die
you cant come back

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## angeldust

Everything and everyone is your *friend*, yes. Everything wants to open its arms to you! The trees, the birds, the air, they are your *friends*. Every person on this planet wants to be your *friend*!   Yes they do, everybody loves you and wants to be *friendly*, there are *friends* in every alley waiting, waiting with open arms waiting to greet you! There is your *friend*, over there in the car! He wants to drive you into the woods and blow torch your tits off and leave you.   Thats the kind of thing *friends* do for one another! The people on the streets are your brothers and sisters. *Friends, friends, friends,* everywhere!  Look out for the *friends*, they lurk in the shadows, waiting to jump out and be your best buddy. I have so many *friends*, in every house, in every country. I have *friends* everywhere, most of them I don't even know. Im lucky, Ive got a few enemies, a good enemy is so hard to find. I need someone I can trust!

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## angeldust

.  .  .

I was thinking about flowers at a flower stand. They look beautiful in death. When the flowers start to rot, they will be thrown away because they are no longer beautiful. What a drag, they cut you down when you are looking good and they sell your corpse. Soon you are thrown into the wastebin.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

I am in the shed. This morning I awoke unable to move my legs without great pain and difficulty. Several hours have passed and the pain is still with me. I am sitting in front of the heater waiting for the trip to subside. I am thinking of a man incarcerated in a prison camp. In my mind I can see him sitting against the westward wall of the barracks. Look at his eyes! They look so tired, so old. His weary gaze marches from his head and comes to rest at his fence that encircles the prison compound. In his dreams he has climbed that fence and fairly well floated over the top escaping the rolls of the barbed wire. He sits. He waits, at some point this trip has got to subside. I once had a dream that I was trying to escape the camp. I made a break and scaled the fence as fast as I could, I got all the way to the top, I threw my body forward in an effort to escape the barbed wire. I fell short. I fell into the barbed wire and struggled until I became completely engulfed and ensnared. Now my legs are racked with pain and I can hardly move. I wonder when this trip will subside.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

When I am alone
feeling lonely,
feeling it,
all the way down to the marrow
I call out.
From a million miles away
its like Im in a cave
It can get just as dark as you want it to.
Any time, any place.
The light gets so hard to find.
You can get so gone that you wouldn't know
a helping hand
from one that wants to push your head down for good.
Calling out.
But I think the lines have been disconnected.
The screams go into the night.
The whole place gets cold and hard.
The edges get sharp
and the whole thing shoots you down to the ground.

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## angeldust

Its Sunday and the sun is dropping below 21st Street like James Brown Live at the Apollo vol III..."We got your sundown, we got your coming cold, we got your sleazy bars, we got your white trash milling around in purple sleeveless Miami Vice t-shirts, white painters pants, asking you if you would like to purchase some angel dust ( :D :D :D ), we got a good show for your ladies and gentelmen, and if that does not totally convince you that you really have to get the **** out of this place, then we'll give you some more. If that doesnt do it to you, we'll give you stumbling drunk middle aged men sttagering out the door at Charlies at 10am on a Tuesday, we'll give you a super soul injection of fat white women down at the laundry mat, drinking Coors and talking about abortions and taxes while their monster-kids poke at piles of dog shit with straws they find in the trash, we'll break it on down and give you a Redondo Beach police officer pulling a carload of Mexicans over to the curb, banging his club on the hood of their car and screaming: "Where the **** do you think you are... Tiajuana?" We are here to give it all up tonight ladies and gentlemen, we got a real good show for you tonight, have mercy."

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## angeldust

.  .  .

..."Why do people always look at me funny when I tell them that everyone must be destroyed? I mean ****, they think that I am A) joking or B) totally out of my mind. Fine. Thats just fine. Well, its no joke and I am no loony.

I have said it before and I will say it again for those of you that have not yet had the chance to attend one of my sermons when I read from the Good Book of the Annihilation: I dont want to hurt anyone, I just want to kill everyone, thats all. I see them in McDonalds eating and rubbing their genitals as warm meat juice runs like his holy blood down the corners of their disgusting mouths!  It makes me want to bring down the skies on top of them! I want to cover them with tarter sauce and touch them off with gasoline! I want to watch them burn and scream as they clutch their Coors beer cans and rock albums and beg for their lives! They will look to me! And I will say to unto them: "Fools! Idiots! You thought that beer and The Boss would come here and save you! You said to yourselves: I bought all the twelve inch dance mix singles! I got down on my designer denim covered knees and prayed  as the music played! I vomited the contents of Anhauser Busch Barley Hoops Holy Water into my lap on so many occasions, why this cruel and unusual punishment, oh cool one? And with the power vested in me by the manager and production team I will say unto the unclean ones: youre not that bad really, but all the same, you must be destroyed! Now attend to the final hour! I am the bringer of the truth! I am the harvester of the Divine Light! In other words I am totally happening dudes and dudettes! And now you unfortunate human-types, your chances of getting on the guest list have been totally anihilated! Now lay down and die, die, die!"

A brief passage from Reverend Righteous B. Societys "Annihilate Before It Be Too Late Bay-Beh and You Know What I Be Talking About and Lord Have Mercy!" sermon, broadcast live on WKEN, FM, Bakersfield, California, last Thanksgiving.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

I thought about you for so long, so many nights. All their broken ends strung together so many nights in the desert lost. So many nights, seeing your face mirrored in the moon. Ghost white. So many nights in that cold desert I wanted to feel you next to me. I thought of your touch, your breathing, how I wanted you, buried alive in the night with me. Plague comes to me, pulls me inside the womb of my mind. I call out to you from the desert. Pull me out. I want to come out, I am lost, I dont know who I am. I want to climb your ladder and crawl inside your heart.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

S & D VACATION PACKAGE PART I

Organize leisure air tours during war time. Vacationers who could afford it would be flown over battle sites and would have the opportunity to drop napalm and bombs on the villagers below. I can see them now, Wagner's March of the Valkeries blasting throught the quad system, fat white tourists dressed in polyester pant suits and those silly Hawaiian shirts sit in their seats, each with his own personal trigger.   "Can we do it now?" they ask.   A smiling stewardness gives them a knowing wink and says "Soon, very soon." "But I want to drop a fire now, I want to kill now, I want to incinerate now, now, now!" says a fat balding man. "Calm down honey." his wife says  "You heard the stewardess, we'll be in bombing range soon. See honey, the music's starting and everything." Soon they are dropping fire on the cities below. The conversation in the plane resembles one that can be heard in a boxing arena on a good night. The vacationers come home with pictures and souvenirs. Some pose with charred dismembered bodies, they smile and give the thumbs up to the camera, some are wearing strings of ears around their necks. The women all want their picture taken with the captain. Each will come back with their own story about the number of gooks they killed, each will exaggerate like crazy. Each will have their story about the one that got away.  "One of those little bastards was hiding in a rice paddy, I was so plastered on those goddam huge drinks they were serving that I missed him, Madge blew the little sonofabitch right out of the water, what a woman."

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## angeldust

.  .  .

Falling down a staircase. The stairs are
covered with feathers. As you fall, the feathers
kick up in clouds all around you. Madness, this 
is madness. Things get lost in the dark. There are
no secrets, no strangers in the dark, lost and found. You
are lost, found and falling down a staircase,
the feathers swirl around you without sound.  This is
madness.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

Flight to madness - makes me think of walking 
down a darkened hall towards a door that is at
the end of the hall. Birds fly around my head, they
collide into the wall and send small clouds of feathers
shooting through the air. The feathers are whitish grey
almost silver, all I can hear is the beating of the birds
wings as they pass by my ears. Madness, walking down
the hall to the door, the light grows dimmer and dimmer
until there is nothing for the eye to see.  The only thing
that can be sensed is the sound of wings and the feeling
of on rushing nothingness. Madness.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

Dear
It is cold out today. The sky is clear and the sun is out but I feel like I am in a snow drift. I am alone in the house. I am trying to keep busy but my thoughts always turn to you. The geographical distance between us is nothing compared to the distance from you that I feel inside. Its cold here. Nothing can warm me. Every time I look out the window, the things I see make me turn away and turn into myself. I feel the isolation all around me. Not even the sun can warm me. I cannot even remember what you look like. I cannot remember how your eyes look into mine. I have pictures of you I can look at but staring at a piece of paper frustrates me and lowers the temperature of my heart even more. Starvation, endless starvation is what I feel. I woke up at 5:00 in the morning today. My stomach was churning, sleep has been hard the last few nights. I cannot get myself to relax, even though my body is exhausted, my mind is awake and relentless. Sometimes I think that I have no control of my thoughts. My brain allows me to free myself and not get hit by cars. My brain keeps the rest of me alive so it can pursue its own interests, interests that do not pertain to me. I am kept alive merely to be a good ambulatory vehicle for my brain. Sometimes I feel that my thoughts are not my own, I sometimes feel that I am an apartment for someone else. This is driving me insane. Thats what my brain wants me to do, then it can take complete control of me. Every day, I lose a little, I can feel it. Two nights ago I sat in my room, and screamed at the top of my lungs, a moment later I started to laugh, my stomach started to grind and I lost a little more. Someone was laughing at me from inside. My futility is total. I wish I understood less. Sometimes I think it would make things less loud and clear.

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## angeldust

.  .  .

I cant do it anymore.
I cant act.
It hurts to do it
and I don't mind the pain,
but this is a pain that I cannot take;
and this is a pain that I wont take.
To them, its life.
To me its a filthy lie 
An act
A tight rope of fear and treachery.
I cant hold my breath any more.
Truth is everything to me now
More than your eyes,
More than your smile
More than anything you could ever hold in your heart for me.
I will walk hand in hand with truth
I
Hate
Lies
And if I am hated for that hate,
that only means my love is true and absolute.
Worlds beyond their shallow world of lies.
I will travel miles up river,
far past their choking, stricken fields,
until time cuts me loose from this trip.

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## katana

can you pass some information about this guy? cool shite! well, all I really want to know if he is up for a sect or something!

ky ishte kulla
although I'd join any sect with these two in it (kat)

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## angeldust

Tani po shoh ne google per Rollins-in dhe me sa pashe ka me shume info rreth karrieres se tij si rock star sesa si writer (cuditerisht per mua). Por ky liber eshte i famshem dhe me duket se eshte perkthyer ne disa gjuhe te botes. Para nja dy vjetesh nje shoqja ime polake po e lexonte ne polonisht, dhe ma permendi, por une s'ja vura shume veshin... plus qe s'e lexoja dot ne librin e saj polonisht.

Vetem para pak kohesh ma permendi ASD-ja i forumit, dhe une e gjeta ne amazon.com dhe e lexova. I'm just worried he thinks I stole his thunder or smth. :D...se ndoshta kishte qejf ta hapte vete nje teme te tille... nuk e di. :)

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## angeldust

.  .  .

I haven't seen him in eleven years. He comes up to me. Some how I recognize him and even remember his name.

"How are you doing?"  He says.

"Working and playing."  I tell him.

"I see pictures of you everywhere, you're famous, I cant believe you remember me."  I shrug my shoulders and smile.  I do remember him, hes a good guy, its good to see him again.

"I was in a band in college, we were shit, we broke up." he says.

"What do you do now?"  I ask him.

"I got married, I work in advertising, it sucks." he says.

We shake hands and he turns to leave but before he does he says, "You know man, its so good to see you again, its so good to know youre around.  Im shit, I sold out. I fucking sold out.  Youre a vestige, no you are, youre a vestige. Its good to actually know someone like you. Youre real. If you ever need a place to stay, call me." He hands me his card. I shake his hand and nod my head. He leaves and I drop his card on the ground and put my shoe over it.

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## angeldust

> _Postuar më parë nga angeldust_ 
> *.  .  .
> 
> Dear
> ...
> The geographical distance between us is nothing compared to the distance from you that I feel inside. Its cold here. Nothing can warm me. Every time I look out the window, the things I see make me turn away and turn into myself. I feel the isolation all around me. Not even the sun can warm me. I cannot even remember what you look like. I cannot remember how your eyes look into mine. I have pictures of you I can look at but staring at a piece of paper frustrates me and lowers the temperature of my heart even more.*





> *I cannot get myself to relax, even though my body is exhausted, my mind is awake and relentless. Sometimes I think that I have no control of my thoughts. My brain allows me to free myself and not get hit by cars. My brain keeps the rest of me alive so it can pursue its own interests, interests that do not pertain to me. I am kept alive merely to be a good ambulatory vehicle for my brain. Sometimes I feel that my thoughts are not my own, I sometimes feel that I am an apartment for someone else. This is driving me insane. Thats what my brain wants me to do, then it can take complete control of me. Every day, I lose a little, I can feel it.*

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