Fever and Reflexion

These thoughts arise on the horizon every time I cross the border of the northern entrance of my stadium: a new one that means no history - no great and glorious history.

Every match day I come to it two hours before kick off – just can’t sit and wait at home any longer. So I wait for an hour to be let inside. Then another hour I spend standing on the “kop”. And the very moment they come over – thoughts. I look upon these people, for whom this is mere game, just an amusing game, an opportunity to have some good time on the weekend, drink beer etc. But… I can’t observe all this shit, cause for me it’s, I dare, say a sense of life. And comparing these extra polar points or views on this game, I completely do not understand, or even comprehend those people, whose relation to this “fever” is calm and tranquil. Well, perhaps, it’s me, whose head is fucked up by or with this game, but I am completely sure, that this game should be considered only as fever, as some incurable disease, which you catch once and never can get rid of. Anyway, I can’t still understand them and I’m not willing to.

Actually, I somehow realize that it’s kinda addiction, which is abnormal for an ordinary person. But, I guess every fucking prick has some kind of obsession and addiction, which he calls “hobby”. There is no normal people left on this planet – everyone is fucked up.

So, as we have concluded, I am addicted. I should say it’s not the worst addiction which you can choose from (because, definitely, every one chooses addiction, not a hobby.) I still remember that day clearly – we played Aberdeen, UEFA cup, don’t remember what stage, but it was the second leg. But not this matters. I got seats next to our “kop”. In half an hour the ground was full – no empty seat was seen. The very moment, which impressed me, had happened a few minutes before the kick off – a tune of the anthem began to play, everybody stood up, lifted his scarf in the air, so that the whole stadium became covered with them, and in that moment I understand – IT IS FUCKING UNBELEIVABLE. It made me fell like that was something great and without any doubt very solemn, and also I felt as I was present at some historical moment and I was witnessing something certainly outstanding and eminent. From that moment result of the match never mattered for me. My soul and heart were in that tempest of emotions, loud screams, shouts, rude and mature swearing, which I tried hard not to listen to though. It really brought some air in life, diluted my boredom, which consisted only of domestic activity – sleep, study, eat.

In that chaos you dissolve so comfortably that then you have no desire and a will to regain your “normal” state of mind. It transfers you to the other spheres of consciousness without taking any special meds. It’s kinda harmless activity for you. But I speak about your body, and I give no guarantee of safety concerning your brain and wits. It can surely blow out them. So be careful before applying. Since I’ve been contemplating for so long on this, I dare say, phenomena, I think I can give you some sort of explanation – I would call it an effect of line. I mean when you are to face another army, willing to destroy and kick the shit out of you. And when one attends the ground, he receives such a feeling – feeling of approaching clash of bones and metal weapon, suffering, pain, casualties, defeated enemy, who lies with his guts squeezed out of his belly and asphyxiates from the smoke of guns mixed with led and gunpowder…

I’ll bet you, I’ll fucking bet you, that is what they – men – really want. Because in the frame of consumers society, which is also based on such shit, as democracy, equality and so forth, there is almost no way to spill out your emotions, anger, hate, anguish both moral and of any sort. You accumulate this shit, while trying to be tolerant, patient, well-bred, good-fashioned, smart, urban yappy asshole. That is the reason for so high level of rapes, when some crazy prick tries to cornhole not even you daughter or a wife – your son too. And these stupid officials in the court just cannot understand why he has done it. And there is the main mistake – they fight and work only with consequence, not a reason. Because they don’t give a shit about a separate person: his problems and motivation of actions. And when they eliminate at least half of these preconditions, there will be twice less crimes level. But it’s always easier to put his ass to jail, than to help a man cope with some shitty stuff in his life.

And that was just one of plenty of the examples concerning hidden aggression that festers inside all of you, folks, bare it in mind.

Looks like a reasonable justification of my addiction. Anyway, I guess it is.

Now I come up to the main feature and secret of “fever”. You can express yourself in every way and by all means, but you can never spill it completely. It’s like waving your fists in front of an enemy never beating and reaching his face. Just looses extra energy, which you could loose in more horrible way, man.

So you cry, shout, sometimes kick your neighbor on the terrace, smash seats, scream, throw damns and curses: “Jerk-offs, pretentious cocksuckers, go fuck yourselves, pussyfarts”, but never applying your energy to any object, especially to the object of hate.

On a one hand, there is nothing sophisticated and complicated in it. On the other – no one still can give an explanation, I mean full and which I could be pleased with. For me it is still phenomena and let it be. Let me be the believer, who is afraid of his object of worshipping to be destroyed and he personally to be dissuaded.

Now I’ve touched another aspect of a human being – he always wants to determine himself with some colour, flag, community, society, space. It kinda brings some determination of directions and objects in life. But I must admit that genuinely free people do not need such attributes, because they have sufficient will and wits to find and go their own way, without adjusting to someone. And the major feature of them – they do not search for the “head”, a colonel, a chief, a king, a president eventually, who will be to blame in case of any troubles. Wise people count on and only on themselves, and if some shit happens, they know – it’s me, who is to blame, I’m guilty, not the jew next door. It’s me, I somehow missed something, didn’t complete correctly or leave unfinished and consequently it had caused those troubles. Reflexion happens to be useful sometimes, helps you to dig and seek in every distant corner of your mind and soul the very reason, ground, cause, precondition. And what do you benefit?! – when you’ve got a reason, it’s always easier to struggle and overcome some shit. But, I shall admit, reflexion is not popular with people. They would rather think it’s you, who is guilty, and they are Mrs Innocence and the Holly Virgins. It is delusional way of thinking, but if they wanna stroke themselves – leave’em be, just their choice and right to make this choice.

Probably, it was not the figure of speech I wanted to develop. Ok, but it was also reflexion, which had been claimed as useful in the end of long and hard contemplation ‘bout it.

P.S These cunts played like pussies again tonight. Nothing changes underneath the mighty sun and all-wise moon.