trans-asian trip to the men's room

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A graphic novel made as an artist book in Estonian Academy of Arts by Ott Pilipenko in 2006. The original book was binded into glassbox and could be litted up with neon light.

TRANSCRIPT

“trans-asian trip

to the men’s room”

by iwan

SO ONCE AGAIN I UNTIE MY EARS AND STEP ON THE

PLANE

it’s time to fly around the world

it’s time to check out how heavy coffee drinkers

those mapsmakers are

time to check out if the birds-eye view

accords to their work

not that i would be compe-tent to judge their work

for some time already

as a matter of fact i have trouble understanding the

actuality of their maps

and it seems to me that ma-jority has the same problem

the more threedimensional map becomes when the plane is land-

ing, the more WORRIED i get

not that some-one like me have

something to worry about

although i am a briefcase with

ears

for some as a explosive

luggage

i go through the gates of st. peter quite often

the fact that i’ve got no trouble of get-ting through to the

eden..

..doesn’t make me less ner-

vous

there’s always a chance to end up

in hell

..what makes me think about my current situation

orgastic crowd in tokyo airport is more like the flames of hell than the front

hall of paradise

of course it is the front hall

of paradise only for me

suddenly..

Everything earthly i have is desperetly

searhing exit

i greet the

sym-bol of homo

sapiens as never before

it’s time for the cabin fever

...

the things i defacate are more than rabbits are used with

this work has turned my

anus into a pharmacist

my requierments to the toilet-paper subsumes

two kind of paper -

some habits die hard

- one of them with letters

fortunately i’m not the only one

though business news from kanji is not my

favourite reading

but it will do

at least as long as all the goods have made

from my guts to my palm

i hope the goods are

fine

i sure would notice if they weren’t

believe me

it slips throught my

mind ut i forget to spit over my left shoulder

it’s a mistake

just when i think of finishing.. ..it hits me

the first idea, that makes no sense at

all

at the next moment i’m

on the ride at full speed

fuck!

those capsules were made

to last

too late now!...

you are made of paper and

there’s no way out

there’s noth-ing outside of this stupid business

news

you’ve forgotten all

about the restroom around you

it’s a tough luck if your ass becomes your

pocket

that’s what be-ing a transporter is

about

it’s danger-ous, for sure

but then you are willing to set youself on fire to get some excite-

ment

your arse figures it out

quickly

no shit is big enough to make you chance your mind

you keep bulking out

and it ain’t all that bad..

‘cause every piece of infor-mation seems ex-

tremely interest-ing

you’re beginning to see through

things

behind everything you wouldn’t otherwise, is a myth

every detail of the world becomes very

personal

and the world itself..

world it-self becomes really simple

and unter-standable in

a way

at the same time you alienate from it as if you were watching it through a milk-

glass

whicth i wouldn’t say is

worse than being reasonable

for some time ago i was

pretty sociable myself

‘cause i felt rejected even then

..if you can say so

telling the truth,

it was even worse then

terms with my-self were as numb as it were with

others

that’s why i didn’t expect my

fresh chemical obses-sion as a hazzard

on the early days i saw it just as a

mind-booster

a device to cultivate hrilling experiences

so chemisty was a big victory

thanks to the knowledge i goti felt undefeat-

able

i imagined myself as a

true scientist in a research of what the mind iss truly

capable of

it got me into all kinds of different sub-

stanses

in a good, but also in a

bad sense

my mind was capable of frikin’

anything

as time went by the bad trips began to dominate over the

good ones

it has taken way too deep dimensions

thou this is never enough to drop the shit

it’s also possible i

just am not anymore

it’s bossible i’m already written off

from society

thrown away

i feel i have

seen way too deep inside a person to take ‘em seri-

ously

..or to play house

i believe it’s a way bigger deal for

me to drool on myself while playing bingo as an oldie than to handle

my paranoias

am i free?

i would say free like an american

which means not really

most likely i’m turning myself into a

piece of meat the same way as american democracy with their citizens from

the cradle

ibut i would mind losing against so-

ciety

i wouldn’t mind losing against

drugs

hell, even gender has become a product

thus i avoid seeking anything except my trips

and i can manage very well if you ask

about that

and i wouldn’t

change any-thing if i could

start over

we are robots

my com-mands are

drugs

i’m the same as you, with some sortage

of specific natural body chemistry

..what you take for granted

i would like to

consider myself as a

shaman

i’m a particle slaking my thirst at the spring

of life

in the time being i’ll keep

myself on the road with my nuclear

baggage

..and keep getting doses of

universe which is as essential as a milk from

a tit..

for not being sucked into a black hole of

sanity

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