Čtení pro Tebe , které mi právě zachránilo život.

Fotografie od Cu00e1tia Matos na Pexels.com
Čekám na zákrok v Nemocnici, bolestí jsem dnes nemohl chodit a toto čtení a nahrávání najednou ,s virtuálním pianem na telefonu Šáomi, mi dalo zapomenout.


Kapitán,Martin,Albatros,Vypravěč, polévka ze žraločích ploutví.


And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter Forty-Eight.


An early plane landed on the roof of the Captain’s cabin. At least that’s what it looked like at first. They were awakened by a thunderous blow, and as they ran outside they saw the shadow of their wings in the sloping morning sun.
-I’m an albatross! -the plane said grimly. Then he added- Hello .-
-Albatross means white bird.-Captain objected.
-Well just-recognized the plane. -That’s why I’m here.-

  • Are you talking?
    -Well, I’m talking. That’s why I’m here.-
  • Albatross is like a big seagull, isn’t it? „-Martin asked the Captain.
    The plane was more like a large gray crow.
    Seagull is poor in our country.
  • A huge crooked knife and two pre-Flood pirate guns stalked behind his waist.
    -Put on my experience. I heard the rumble of five hundred guns in a naval battle. I can speak in ten languages. My brain works properly, exactly, like a patent lock.- said the albatross.
    -Sailor must know everything -Martin said.
    -And when you’re flying, where’s your engine? And where the rudder? Birds don’t fly without an engine and a rudder! ”The Captain said between his teeth.
    -Just sit back and see if they’re flying or not.-
    For a moment, the albatross seemed to fall asleep. Eventually he lifts his eyelids, heavy.
    The Captain nodded.
  • -There will be shark fin soup for breakfast, may I invite you?-
  • Are there sharks here?
    -Now little-said Captain-I really like this soup.-

  • Wealth is nonsense in itself. Or stardust?
    Now he was suddenly enjoying the soups to the full. And he liked it.

  • After breakfast, the Captain sat down on the porch with a smoldering bullet. By noon yesterday, every string of his being was tense, everything in it working in the winter, endlessly calculating what might happen.
    The albatross stared into space like an angler.
    -I completely forgot what I really wanted! ”Said the albatross.
    The Captain waved.
    The albatross looked like a chill ran down his spine. He had never eaten shark fin soup before. He went crazy.
    -You took my luck – all my luck.- He pulled out a pirate gun, put it to sleep and pulled the trigger.
    Suddenly he is out of reach of everything alive.

  • -If I remember that I couldn’t read most of my lousy life, I would cry, cry over the wasted time.-sighed the old helmsman who was there with them.
    Sometimes the radio waves point it completely differently than they should.
    Without them, the monsters would come out of their lairs and devour the whole world!

End of Chapter 48.

Crowley - 14 - umeni

Písně .

Fotografie od Pixabay na Pexels.com



Lubomír Tomik

Výkřiky do tmy,
vracejí se bez ozvěny

jeden za druhým

pestrobarevné vážky fantazie na snových loukách,

divné plány spřádají,

zpívají písně o bolesti, 
každé mávnutí křídly
                                    zní jako praskot kostí.



Lubomír Tomik

Cries into the dark,
                 return without echo

one by one

brightly colored fantasy dragonflies on dreamy meadows

they spin strange plans,

they sing songs about pain,
every fluttering of the wings
                                                    sounds like a cracked bones .

Crowley - princ disku

Každé mávnutí křídly zní….

…jako mé pravé koleno.
Písně kostí.
Kdyby se ohnulo jako dříve, to by byly teprve songy !

Camera Freak.

Fotografie od Dimitris Mourousiadis na Pexels.com


Camera freak.

Lubomír Tomik

Netvor za kamerou,
řasy oči rty 

má láska je 
dvojité šroubení kulky

poprvé mě zabije čistě,
podruhé pro jistotu

obrysy nad hladinou v dálce,
mihotavé fata morgány

když loď ztroskotala,
nejdříve jsme snědli

Camera freak.

Lubomír Tomik

Monster behind the camera,
eyelashes eyes lips

my love is
double bullet fitting

 will kill me cleanly for the first time,
second time for sure

contours above the surface in the distance,
shimmering fata morgana

when the ship sank,
we ate first

Crowley - dvojka poharu

Změna je život…

….čekání na zázrak je jediné : Pomalá smrt.

Tak jako jsou všichni z téhle po sto letech nalezené fotografie arktické expedice mrtví a zbyly jen stíny na nevyvolaných fotkách v ledu.


Přes řeku času.

Lubomír Tomik

přes řeku času plout 
na hladinu zírat,

dost bylo zklamání,
dost bylo splínu

jestli je každý nový den právě teď,
už ne bezmocně pěsti svírat

postavit hráz v řece času,
ať se rozleje do polí,

ne bezmocný,

putujeme z chvíle do chvíle,
čas nemá hranice

za okny ptačí zpěv,
jako posledního soudu polnice

máme místo v první řadě,
a masky padají dolů,
když jsme obnaženi až na kost

básník střílí šípy do nebe ,
zarývají se do  dávno mrtvých bohů,

jsme jen lidé,
no a co ?


Across the river of time.

Lubomír Tomik

cross the river of time
stare at the surface

enough was disappointing
enough was spleen

if every new day is right now,
no longer helpless clenching fists

build a dam in the river of time,
let it spill into the fields,

not helpless

we wander from moment to moment
time has no limits

behind the windows bird singing,
sounds like
as the last court of the bugle

we have a place in the first place,
and the masks fall down,
when we are exposed to the bone

the poet shoots arrows into the sky,
they dig in the long dead  gods,

we're just people
so what ? 


Crowleyho Tarot :

Crowley - princezna poharu

Čtení pro Tebe : ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou“ Kapitola 14.

And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Chapter fourteen.

Did Whitman scare the children in Louisiana as he walked down the open street?

From nowhere. I’m the man hidden in someone’s trap. Pick me up so high that I touch the sky, at least one more time.
Have you ever seen a large cargo ship sail slowly through a bay on a sunny afternoon, and as you searched intently your eyes along its serpentine iron length, searching for the people, sailors, ghosts who must drive this dreamy vessel soaring the soft waters of London Harbor, you did not see nothing but the four sides of the world and a plethora of possibilities, who could it be, a mysterious pilot, smiling under his beard, which he doesn’t even have?

At dawn she stood on the ridge, looking up at the harbor.

  • Do you still love me? ”She asked. -Didn’t you fall in love with some twentieth-century beauty?
    -It suits you, today it really suits you, my dear.-He answered with a shrug.
    He often thought of the Beautiful Lady of the Court. And also on Yvette, who looked so much like her.
  • What’s the fog? „She asked.
    -The wind is blowing in the wind, „replied Mr. Marek.
    It was completely calm.
    -Go away.- said Helene Blehár.-Go from here, it won’t be fun here today.-
    She closed behind her and would definitely start descending the stairs.
    Mr. Marek, all nervous about what he caused, calls for her: -You are the best woman I could get in this town and I am terribly sorry for what I did to you -.-

And this is my room, gray without you on Sunday morning.
Edward Bengt had a proven detective method.
He settled comfortably on the sofa and closed his eyes.
His thoughts were often far away now, he didn’t even notice when the girls talked to him before going to bed, and he laughed at them and teased him if he wasn’t in love.
He opened his eyes and yanked at them.
-Take care of yourself-
-Ah, that means the lord is in love when he’s so angry!
And they kept giggling.
But Edward Bengt was not in love, he was obsessed, obsessed, obsessed …obsessed with you, with a desire to catch David Hamilton alias Pound David.
That was all. But he couldn’t know that I was still moving around London and he had no idea what I was up to.
And if he knew, he wouldn’t be laughing.

Did Whitman scare the children in Louisiana as he walked down the street?

End of chapter fourteen.


Karta Crowleyho Tarotu je ….

Crowley - petka poharu

Čtení pro Tebe ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou “ Kapitola osmnáctá audio…

…za větrného dne větrná kapitola vítr za okny i vítr zde !

Kapitola osmnáctá ,,Pilný vítr.“ Čteno Pro Tebe za větru
And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter Eighteen

Diligent wind.

The diligent wind began to speak the cosmic language, it had a soft, quite pleasant accent. However, he spoke too much book.
Apparently he went through hypnotic courses.
-Good, so glad. Heaven as smooth as velvet, let's put all the Irish mists down and drink!
Suddenly it rumbles all over the house. The busiest neighbors are already protruding from their apartments, but all they see is the elevator door cracking.
The elevator hums and starts.
It was small and annoying. Drops swirled dust on the exit bridge from the elevator exit, and the nearby forest and hills were shrouded in rain.
The surf penetrated the sky like a shining star.
-Nothing like this has happened yet. Never.-
So back again tomorrow. Up.
-Why right now? -the passenger from Earth asked.
The huge hall is full of stylized life.
In various, but always organized rhythms, computer machines are tinkling in unison. People who go with cards or simply pass them on move in exactly that rhythm.
As if what was hidden behind the partitions was not full of living beings, but of components that fit together perfectly and move with perfect precision. Can you study the movement of shoppers in shopping malls? Do they behave predictably?

The diligent wind began to speak the cosmic language again.
-We are sending an extraordinary message, Citizens, we are sending an extraordinary message ….-


End of chapter eighteen.

XXXXX Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci mého hlasu Tobě je -
Crowley - devitka disku

Poet Video ,, Faraonův pitevní stůl „

Faraonův pitevní stůl.

Lubomír Tomik

nikdo ho neprostřel,


tělo na něm teplé

roztékalo se
mrkev uhlí,

kdo zabil všechny sněhuláky ?

kdo je vyhnal
z faraonových zahrad,

do zapomnění?
do svištění větru přinášejícího oblevu ?


Pharaoh's autopsy table.

Lubomír Tomik

nobody shot him

did not clean up,
did not prepare

body on it warm

it was flowing
carrots coal

who killed all the snowmen?

who drove them out
from the pharaoh's gardens,

into oblivion?
to the whistling of the wind bringing the gloom?

Karta na publikaci Poet Videa je ...jsou...Dva Meče  ,,Mír"


Crowley - dvojka mecu

cold fry breakfast

Thanks for cooperation across the ocean, Lauren!

The Lexicon

these past few days
   have been a threat
    to my existence, they’ve
    been a threat
      every which way it stands

you don’t know it but

          [I nearly lost you]

     & I don’t have money for the hospital
      I don’t have the money
                 to see a [grease] doctor

 Fuck it, a little plastic magic
             never razed anyone
    it’s 6 am on a holy Sunday
    & these fries are fantastic


Zobrazit původní příspěvěk


Je mi ctí s Tebou přes vrcholky Alp spolupracovat, Natalie!

Pensieri Parole e Poesie

      In August
      At the beach
      I see you walking
      white like mozzarella
      that you set out for the catwalk.
      The sun gives up
      giving way to the moon
      for the tan.
      You're as white as milk.
      And move a little bit
      to the point of taking color
      since from a distance it looks like a street lamp.
      I've seen a lot of fair skins
      never like you..
      you look like a whitener!

      Natalia Castelluccio

        ⬇️ CANALE YOU TUBE ⬇️

        Zobrazit původní příspěvěk

        Osud. OstE. Fate.

        Fotografie od Quang Nguyen Vinh na Pexels.com
        Osud .
        Lubomír Tomik
        osud je
        suché prásknutí výboje
                    elektrického úhoře
        a na hladinou se třepotá tisíce motýlů,
        v letu,
        v extázi,
        elektřinou nebo proudem orgasmů ?
        Lubomír Tomik
        fate is
        dry burst
        of electric eel,
        and thousands of butterflies flutter on the surface,
        in flight,
        in ecstasy,
        of elektricity or a stream of orgasms?
        Crowley - 3 - cisarovna

        The phantom of the opera … and so on.

        Fotografie od u0414u043cu0438u0442u0440u0438u0439 u0422u0440u0435u043fu043eu043bu044cu0441u043au0438u0439 na Pexels.com


        Fantom opery ...a tak.
        Lubomír Tomik
        prozpěvuješ si v pařížských kanálech,
        odrážíš se bidlem velkým jako mrakodrap v nesnázích,
        v nesnázích jsme,
        však víš ,
        fantom opery a tak....
        The phantom of the opera ... and so on.
        Lubomír Tomik
        you sing in the canals of Paris,
        you bounce with a perch as big as a skyscraper in trouble,
        we are in trouble
        we are
        But you know ,
        phantom of the opera and so on ....
        Crowley - 7 - valecny vuz
        ,, Změna je úspěšná tehdy, když přirozeně vznikne stav „do hloubky zakořeněného stromu u proudící řeky“. Tato orientální metafora říká, že v období probíhající změny je nutné střídat ve stejném poměru klid (do hloubky zakořeněný strom) s aktivitou (proudící řeka). Karta zobrazuje postavu sedící na voze, která je ve stavu rozjímání a klidu, avšak připravená být znovu aktivní.

        Poet Video: ,,Dopis pilou“

        Poslal jsem Ti.
        Lubomír Tomik
        poslal jsem Ti dvě stě let starý
        ale možná jsem se měl
        rozřezat motorovou pilou pilou
        pilou ,
        kousky těla  poslat v obálce
        Adresa:    Ty
        I sent you.
        Lubomír Tomik
        I sent you two hundred years old
        but maybe I should
        cut with a chainsaw
        send pieces of the body in an envelope
        Address: You.
        Karta na publikaci řetězového Poet Videa je :
        Crowley - 8 - spravedlnost

        Královna Synchronicit ! Motorová pila !

        V sklepě motorová pila, ráno ji položím na ponk. O několik hodin hledám text na dnešní čtení pro Tebe a narazím na – https://midianpoet.com/2018/04/22/poslal-jsem-ti-dopis/ , vzpomenu si na pilu, najednou byly slova rozkrájené,už bylo hotovo- vytiskl jsem, vzal rekordér, načetl a nahrál zvuk motorové pily, říkám si- Kdy to bylo napsáno ? –

        Kdy ? 22.4.2018.

        A o čtyři roky později, přesně na den vychází

        22.4.2022 vychází album ,,SPECKMANN PROJECT“….

        Teď vzhůru do Studia Midian, zkompletovat zvuk,nakonec z toho bude nečekané Poet Video, nakonec jsem včera promazával fotografie a našel Kollinse na Josfstadu s motorovou pilou …..a všechny ty věci se propojily-parádní vystoupení , ta motorová pila byla rudá třešeň na dortu ! https://midianpoet.com/2021/08/12/dekuji-pane/

        Karta je Viselec.

        Crowley - 12 - viselec
        Karta Crowleyho Tarotu. Uvidíme, k dispozici jsou dvě fotografie a několik zvukových stop a slova ,,Poslal jsem Ti“

        Čtení pro Tebe vymknuté z rukou…

        Kapitolu dvacet devět jsem právě četl opravdu minimálně po roce napřímo ve Studiu Midian a...vymklo se mi to z rukou, vžil jsem se tak do role, že náhlý zvrat ve vyprávění mne rozesmál.
        Tedy, kapitol není osmnáct , ale padesát sedm a ...budu,bude... je číst, kdokoli bude chtít, celé se bude postupně ukládat, něco ano něco ne a všechno dohromady pak bude audiokniha ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou" ke stažení zdarma, budou přidány zvuky, hlasy, mixy, možná hudba...kdoví, za chvíli budu ležet na operačním stole a třeba se zase vzbudím do ....jiné reality,světa, třeba v troskách Madridu !
        And I held astronaut Peters in  hand 
        Lubomír Tomik
        Chapter Twenty-Nine
        Letter addressed to Captain Alexander Yegorovich Schlipenbach.
        In the ruins of Madrid,
        Late in the evening, on a scorching, passionately glittering, magical night.
        A letter from You po .after eternity of the dead Silence. Thanks! Thanks for not taking away my last conviction, the last faith I relied on in this world.
        How happy I was with your letter - joy unselfish! There is not a single news in it, nor could it be. No one can leave town.
        I have examined and judged everything that has been written in your letter and I have found that everything is vanity. I have not experienced anything that would bring me satisfaction, I have known the immense gap between the emptiness of my heart and the pleasures of human life, I have not longed for pleasure, I wanted to know, hope and love… She.
        So you, you worked, traveled and suffered. I'm happy about the first and second. The third one doesn't surprise me. And believe me. Poets never lie about emotions.
        Yes, I believed in you, in your heart, in your honesty, but your silence convinced me that you are not worth more than other men, that your heart is like many others, your honesty does not go so far as to prove it to my eyes to say- You're nothing to me anymore! - and I was very sorry! Believe me!
        We cling so tenaciously to illusions when we have so few left !!!
        Do you think intelligence is a cure for emotion?
        I know what London was like two years ago. Lack of food, few opportunities to hunt and collect fruit, dangerous insects, dirty water, snakes and above all uninhabited, overgrown, impenetrable entire city districts.
        I know all that.
        Imagine, Alexander, if you had a calm, flowering woman with children, and in the morning, in the morning, she would bring you coffee to bed. Big, warm and beautiful. Wouldn't that be wonderful?
        Maybe, maybe yes.
        When I imagined it, a mad fear seized me.
        You see, I don't think about love. For me, youth is there, my friend.
        And of his last illusions, all I have left is a deep and bitter memory and an incurable scar that marks the wounded place as a tombstone.
        Oh, oh yes. grave. This comparison is sad, but true. My heart is the grave in which all hopes of happiness lie frozen and cold.
        I confess to You that I do not know if I love You, but I know that I prefer You to all the men I know, and that I need Your affection.
        Adios, my treasure!
        Post scriptum: I read this letter and I have a thousand desires to burn it. Should I send it to you at all? I dont know, probably not.
        So I don't know what to do. I will hide it and then burn it, or I will give it to you, I will listen to the voice of my heart when I see you again and then I will burn myself.
        Good night, my love, I have a terrible migraine.
        The charred sheet of paper on which the letter was written was found among the supplies of food delivered from Madrid aboard the Surf a few days before departure.
        Astronaut V.R.Peters
        Logbook, time… .. illegible.
        End of chapter twenty-nine.
        Karta na Publikaci je....
        Crowley - 11 - chtic


        Poet Video ,,Znamení“

        Natočil P.L. na Modré u Velehradu, L.T. ve Studiu Midian , Pilíř Duší Cliva Barkera.
        Lubomír Tomik
        until he comes
        when the sign comes
        we will be far away
        never tired
        Cupid's arrows at the highway rest stop,
        he was in a hurry
        he remembered them on the way out of the mountains,
        cute chubby monster!
        Lubomír Tomik
        až přijde znamení
        až přijde znamení
        budeme vzdálení,
        nikdy ne znavení
        Amorovy šípy na dálničním odpočivadle,
        vzpomněl si na ně až cestou z hor,
        roztomilý baculatý netvor!
        Karta na publikaci Poet Videa je.....
        Crowley - 15 - dabel

        ,,All jokes aside!“

        Fotografie od Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n na Pexels.com

        Za okny stále tma v zimním zasněženém ránu…


        Všechny žerty stranou!
        Lubomír Tomik
        ,,Všechny žerty stranou !"
        Zasmála se.
        Zadunění dubového víka nad námi a uvnitř,
        uvnitř spousta chichotání.
        All jokes aside!
        Lubomír Tomik
        "All jokes aside!"
        She laughed.
        The rumble of the oak lid above us and inside,
        inside a lot of giggles.
        Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na tento rozpustilý sarkofág je....
        Crowley - eso holi
        ,,Tato karta předznamenává, že v příštím roce byste se měli vyhnout jakékoli cenzuře svého projevu.

        Právě se s tímto problémem potýkám…jaké jsou hranice cenzury?


        Dívka která netančí.

        Fotografie od Shamraevsky Maksim na Pexels.com


        Veselá a rozpustilá.
        Lubomír Tomik
        kovadlina se otáčí,
        tichá je kyselina mravenčí,
        dívka která netančí,
        okna které nejančí
        jsi nejhezčí,
        jsi nejmilejší,
         broskve se sluní,
        sloni nám do uší funí
        ryby se otáčejí,
        vlny své písně pějí
        jde po nás Clark Gable a cení zuby,
        mlýny plavou dál
        slunce slunce 
        dvě unce
        nebo tři unce
        kovadlina se otáčí,
        tajná tichá 
        kyselina mravenčí
        Cheerful and playful.
        Lubomír Tomik
        the anvil rotates,
        formic acid is silent,
        girl who doesn't dance is
        windows that do not shine
        you are the prettiest
        you are the dearest
         peaches sunbathe
        elephants are blowing in our ears
        the fish are spinning,
        waves sing their songs
        Clark Gable comes after us and show us ​​his teeth,
        the mills float on
        sun sun
        two ounces
        or three ounces
        the anvil rotates,
        secret silent
        formic acid
        Crowley - 0 - blazen


        Variace nesmrtelnosti.

        Fotografie od 7inchs na Pexels.com


        Variace nesmrtelnosti.
        Lubomír Tomik
        variace na variaci variace
        topícího se plavce
        přece jen,
        kameny jsi nechal po kapsách,
        s tou nesmrtelností,
        to asi neklapne.
        Variations of immortality.
        Lubomír Tomik
        variation on variation variation
        drowning swimmer
        after all,
        you left the stones in your pockets,
        with that immortality
        it probably won't work.
        Crowley - kralovna holi

        Karta na publikaci 28.1.2022 ve 22.22 minut, právě teď.

        Královna Holí Crowleyho Tarotu.


        Water is falling.

        Fotografie od Maria Orlova na Pexels.com


        Padá voda.
        Lubomír Tomik
        Kam teče Řeka času ?
        Do jakého vodopádu se vlévá?
        Kam a kde se tříští ?
        Minuty vsáknou do země a když se oteplí,
        vteřiny se mění v páru,
        pak z mraků
        padají hodiny, dny a roky,
        když sněží,
        jsou to jen zamrzlá staletí v každé vločce
        revoluce války, objetí a pohledy do očí,
        v jedné jediné vločce
        teď si představ,
        když nasněží po kolena
        Water is falling.
        Lubomír Tomik
        Where does the River of Time flow?
        What waterfall does it flow into?
        Where is it shattering?
        Minutes soak into the ground and when it warms,
        seconds change in pairs,
        then from the clouds
        hours, days and years are falling,
        when it snows
        They are frozen  centuries in every snowflake
        war revolution, hugs and glances,
        in a single snowflake
        now imagine
        when the snow falls to the knees
        Fotografie od YEu015e na Pexels.com

        Crowley - 5 - veleknez

        Slepí klauni.

        Fotografie od sergio souza na Pexels.com


        Slepí klauni.
        Lubomír Tomik
        veď mne,
        veď mne,
        do sladkého království
        zavedla jsi mne, 
        zavedla jsi mne
        do sladkého království bolesti
        kde slepí klauni,
        kde slepí klauni,
        tápou prsty bez nehtů,
         po štěstí.
        Blind clowns.
        Lubomír Tomik
        lead me
        lead me
        to the sweet kingdom
        you led me
        you led me
        to the sweet kingdom of pain
        where blind clowns
        where blind clowns
        groping fingers without nails,
         after luck.
        Tarot podle Alexandra Crowleyho.
        Sašo, co ty na to ?
        Crowley - dvojka disku

        Čtení pro Tebe: A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou . Kapitola osmá v osm večer…

        Kapitola osmá. A nakonec nic.

        And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

        Chapter eight.

        In the end, nothing.

        The professor slowly pushes the cigarette away from his mouth, trying not to drop the ashes.

        -Good. Concentrate, let your thoughts flow, and give me an example, some story, some of your hallucinations, as accurately and completely as possible. And I used them delicately and tactfully so as not to cause her pain.-

        The thin man, with glasses like Harold Lloyd, spoke in an intrusive voice. – She allowed me the utmost intimacy. And I used them delicately and tactfully so as not to cause her pain.-

        The memory comes to life, evoked by words. The Moorish towers disappeared in layers of saliva and mist.

        Rough concrete walls, strong gusts of wind, a vortex of dust rising, a faint grunt of the ship’s siren. A look that burns through clothes. Illuminated by luminescent lamps, she shakes her breasts, which are covered only by a light blouse. She pulls down his underwear in a quick motion.
        -Dear, I have you in my hand, understand me .-
        Eating with her wild cat femininity, her bust shakes again. Nazim lifts the veil and sees the face of an Arab woman. Amazing. He will seize it. When they are satisfied, there is silence. They are both silent.

        Nazim looks at his nature. There are traces of hooves on it.

        Excitedly and wide-eyed, the boys watch the butt fireworks explode all around. Oh, the arabian harems!

        Finally, he opens his eyes and finds out…

        -No no. I ask. I ask and you say.-

        The elephant on the canvas walks into a clearing covered with the skeletons of its family. Exhausted and near death, falls to the ground. The audience exhales in astonishment.

        Someone will say: – Elephant Cemetery! –

                               But in the end, nothing but walks with Buroughs and the light women in my room.

        End of the eighth chapter.


        Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci kapitoly osm v osm večer je…

        Crowley - 17 - hvezda