My name is Vincent van Ogh. I am van Gogh’s older brother, I don’t care about anything, it seems. Therefore my name is Och. I’m paranoïd delusional with an existential problem. Or Munchhausen syndrome with Parkinsons. The internet and the banking system, who needs it? Are they really that great? As reliable as the memory of my father. What is it all about? Life, the universe and everything? Football, food, Olympic medals? If we don’t go well on earth or some places, why not seek asylum in space? When our nightmares are close to truth, just give it all some time. We used to be ok, now life has taken a turnaround.
Everything leads to x, where x is time, space and peace. I have no y. So don’t ask why. We travel through great dimensions. Living in sin makes the strong man win. In the end I will end up losing everything. For everything seems a coincidence, but in the end coincidence doesn’t exist, so life remains just a battle with yourself, and your own flawed personality or the flaws of your friends and enemies.
I’ve picked up painting. An old hobby of mine, and my predecessors. I’ve had it with the so called rat race for a successful career and money collection. My life is now about art and survival. My illness is perhaps incurable, for not only am I delusional, with the voices in my brain and my belly developing cancer. I should never have picked up that nasty smoking habit. I can not only trust my friends no more, those I haven’t spoken in years, I cannot trust myself. As the members of my tribe get lost in our individual quest for success and are also tied to a scheme of scripted appointments. Life seems to be somewhat overrated as you get older and more invalid. Looks fade, or our bodies just deteriorate. Our dreams become reality and life is the unfoldment of our desires. Ugly words and ugly lies will block our way to happiness.
As the cancer in my brain grows, I will lose the ability to speak, and thus my presence on earth will remain a small dot in history. I am a mind, a concatenation of mental states. That’s all there is to this disease called schizophrenia. As this is all a part of the process of achieving a round circle of wisdom. The devil will use all this knowledge against you and I. Either that, or we will die without ever having met real evil. The greed, the factories, the gasoline cars, motorcycles and space rockets. Or all of the opposite. Do we want or need to know everything, escape from everything or do we want to survive? It’s reality that bites our bodies.
Cheesy Reviews 