I persuaded Dave to sell me his bike.
He knew about my accidents and didn’t want to.
So I told him about another one, few days ago and said:
– If I were meant to die that would be it.
It didn’t work. He is a very stubborn guy.
So I said:
“Listen, after I left the car and saw the damage I wished that was it. So much better and quicker than in bed. Seven years ago they were giving me five years, eight months ago they were giving me half a year to two years. Sell me the fucken bike at a discount, you are not riding it anyway. It would be better than in bed, why don’t you get such a simple concept.”
I was really hoping he would give it to me. He made three millions thanks to me and now bike is taking place in his garage.
Few days earlier I run into him and his girl-friend. At the end of our chat he said:
– I love you Bobby.
I remembered it.
-Supposedly you love me.
That got him.
He agreed to sell it to me. I like his bike because he made many trips all over North America, even EUrope and chose this one for the last two.
It is ready to go. Just like me.

Daylight I

I liked her ass, face, smile, eyes, hairdo. Little of a shock how much.
And she liked what I said. Smiled and turned away to hide it.
Got my medicine. I was shivering for few hours already and that’s what I was hiding.
Missed my medicine for two days already, didn’t sleep most of the night.
Pain was really bad for few hours now. Couldn’t concentrate.
– do you have any questions for your pharmacist?
She didn’t smile this time.
– No. I’d better don’t. I would ask you for your phone number.
I walked.
Pharmacy girl is a tough prey. She knows you are a lost cause. Girls at the banks are easier when you have money on the account. Had three of them in good times.
Took double doses right away to see if that could help and it did. Two hours later pain was gone.
I could think but through the wall of numbness.
That was after we went to eat. Me and Guatemalski.
Guatemalski is from Guatemala but knows so many phrases in Polish we call him Guatemalski.
Teaches me phrases in Spanish. We went to Latino place and I was ordering in Spanish.
The girl enjoyed my broken effort. We both laughed. At some point she thought I spoke better Spanish than I did and started talking and talking and talking…about something. Guatemalski laughed too.  She was making fun of me asking about everything and nothing while I made “si” and big smile my remedy. It worked.
She brought food to our table, sat next to me and talked some with Guatemalski.
He explained we were both students – me of Spanish and him of Polish.
Then M. called and even though he is from Slovakia, we speak in Polish.
The homeless guy sitting by the entry stood up upon hearing me and sat by the table to my right, staring at me.
Each time I looked at him he looked away. I looked at Guatemalski, the homeless started staring at me again.
I was sure he was Polish. Big blue eyes, European face, poor and in torn, dirty cloths but clean himself with delicate hands. It is feminine habit to look at man’s hands. I finished conversion on the phone.
– Are you hungry?
– yhm…
I didn’t know what he meant except it was obvious he was.
– what do you want?
– yhmmmmmm…
Many hand gestures. Look of an orchestra director going through allegro ma non troppo part of the piece.
He was pretending not to be desperate, cared about his dignity during imaginary performance. I stopped asking, stood up and went to order what I had.
The girl smiled:
– You like it here.
– I do but this is for the homeless guy. Give him rolls instead of fajitas though.
I was going to give him my fajitas which I put aside for later, it was too much food.
Went back to my table. Guatemalski and the Homeless were staring at each other. Guatamalski is a sensitive and educated guy.
The homeless  got bolder.
– Where are you from? I asked.
– Russia.
He surprised my with quick answer.
– What city?
– yhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Wouldn’t tell. Dignity thing again. Had face of a very soft, good man but broke mentally somewhere. Reminded me of another Russian guy I used to see years, years ago at the bank in Bucktown. He would enter the lobby, get free coffee and donuts and leave. Was a medic in Nam and lost his sanity there. Head loving people care for him.
Same absence in the very intelligent, you would say, good eyes.
The girl brought homeless man meal and put the plate in front of him. He started eating like a prince in distress. Etiquette was not compromised but he was visibly hungry. She told his story in Spanish to Guatemalski while I looked at him and later … her boobs right by ma face. She saw it and smiled again.
Before I left – I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulders
– everything will get better – I said in Russian.
Smell was … that’s OK. His face was of an intellectual. They break the easiest. Left my fajitas on his plate.
After we left I asked Guatemalski to borrow me ten bucks. Now I was missing it to pay for my medicines.
He listened to my music in my car when I came back.
– Guatemalski, you should have seen this girl at the pharmacy, fuck!!!
I was shivering pretty bad by then. Holding it was pretty tough.
He looked at me the way he looked at the homeless Russian only twenty minutes earlier.
Yes, Guatemalski is a sensitive guy.
While I am writing this ,five cops just took a conference table next to mine. I guess I can leave everything: phone, laptop, credit card, food, tea, backpack and walk to my car to get the medicines. I got some more work to do and it is pain to pack everything. It is such a nice working set up. I am writing “Ashland”.
After they close I go swimming. When I don’t have my medicines I sleep in my Jacuzzi. I tried last night. Didn’t work but still helped somehow.
“Ashland” is a play now, with which I  try to teach my nephew not to do what I did – he is handsome and smart and might have the same genetic problem. We are all murdered by death and death is blind to its cause, it just wants to come. Transform. I want it to dance to me. It dances on medieval paintings. I want to remind death the good times.

Pierwsze koty za płoty

There were times when the poor thing got scared a little.
Through up later, in my car, into my laundry bag. From my driving.
I was trying to beat the traffic. Hopeless.

Too much do do.

How do you make a music video???
They sound like Polish punk 35 years ago. The best in Europe.
REAL PROLETARYAT grown by communism after martial law, not clowns from London on Trafalgar Square.
Anyway – how do you make a music video?
I think I know.
What do I need for a music video of punk band playing like 30 years ago?
– coffee shop
– beautiful girl
– (Secret)
– bold camera man
– cars
-cup of coffee.


I will make Sunday out of Monday

11.19 pm
just left the Jacuzzi. Finally I have a whirlpool – reminded me of all the whirlpools I have installed myself in my places.
I was usually buying units from developers after drywall and finishing them myself. (My subs).
The first one was the loft on Wood Street. Great building developed by my friend (an Italian) who lost everything years later like myself. I knew he would lose before hid did. Because of the building he bought downtown, just before they have stopped the credit,
crashed the market and ran with the spoils. It was a war on US population without war.
Once the spoils were collected – funds for Arab Spring and Ukraine were in place. That’s how it works. At least they didn’t do flight to Mars like baby Bush wanted. Does Nevada look like Mars? Wyoming does, parts of Hawaii. No-brainer really.
On Wood Street I have demolished two bedrooms and converted the place into one bedroom with huge pedestal bed. Demolished bathrooms and made huge shower in open brick and slate tiles , in the other one installed  double Jacuzzi (like today)
but the water heater remained the same for few weeks, so when I had sex with Jo-Ann water was getting cold after an hour and we would hug in the water, she on top of me – warming each other till water got heated again and we would carry on with love.
Americans in the building were laughing at me for that conversion till the first person who showed up to buy it was one of the Bear players (another one in my life) but his Hummer (he had the real one), not the pick up truck called Hummer, was one each too long for the garage I had below. I didn’t use the garage – I had a boxing bag in the middle of it and I was boxing there.
I ended up selling it to a president of some bank for more money than anyone in the building – so Americans were thanking me and wanted me to become the president of the Association. I smiled and said no. Who has time for boy scout troop today?
Anyway – they have pissed me at the first association meeting.
Before it started but they already gathered – these baby Newcomers, none a Pilgrim – they have talked about the neighborhood. These were kids from out of their place. So this one brainless chick from Wisconsin starts brainless monologue about how the area still needs to change and that there are so many weird businesses here, names them and includes a Polish Deli – one of the best Delis in the whole of Chicago as weird business and points out this is Polish. She doesn’t know I guess she has just moved in to the area that was historically more Polish than any other in this City – Bucktown and Wicker Park. That out of ten new houses, seven are built by Polish Pilgrims (me including on a small scale compared to many of my fellow Pilgrims) and this Polish Deli has the best food in the area unless you like departments stores where food, before being delivered and put on the shelves, sits for months in their magazines where rats have a place to piss in comfort on it. It was the era of Mortgage Companies, not coffee shops so some of these idiots would mortgage their parent’s shacks in Wisconsin to have for a down payment for a loft. She said something about the owner of the Deli, just guessing, something bad.
I knew the guy. We talked about flying and food many times ( I was taking flying lessons out of Palwaukee then). He lived in Arizona and flew his plane there for the week-ends. One of the richest Polish guy in Chicago, had a contract to deliver meat for US troops. And this brainless chick from Wisconsin considers him some moron with small Deli. He kept the deli opened because we kept asking him not to close it. Pilgrims were eating lunch there almost everyday and were going back to rebuilding Chicago from a democratic slum it was. Democrats turn everything into a ghetto.
They, The Association, have picked an annoying gay for a president so on the first contract to fix the building (tuck-pointing) this asshole is trying to get a fifty thousand kick-back from a contractor. The contract is  for $110,ooo.oo. I laugh -terrorize them not to sign the contract- get couple of my friends to give me their prizes – both of them are less than sixty thousand. That was what I calculated. Gay hates me now.
I don’t give a fuck about asshole gay but he takes shots at me during meetings. I shut him up pretty rough one day. He does shut up but few months later  I need to get a permission to built a deck on the roof of a storage room. Huge and amazing deck, had a great architect design it. They object. I sell the unit. Fuck newcomers, brainless sheep.
So I lost a Jacuzzi where I had J, B, and D. N and  D2 had orgasms with me.
It is much more complicated. It is actually very complicated. It will be in my book.
Because as I spent four hours in the Jacuzzi today – seven till eleven – I was thinking about my book and I have realized what I need to write, I need to write as it was. All of it. No air – all meat.
You, my sweet girl, will have to go aside. There are more important things in this world than people.
In one of my posts I lied (kind of) – I didn’t built eight flats near the coffee shop. I bought four houses, demolished them, rezoned the land, made blueprints, got permits and sold it to two builders – friends again. I was done with Chicago and everything I was doing.
I was kind of done with my life as I am now but now I have more fun because I get to speak my mind.
Most of condos between Ogden and Ashland on Grand were built by people I know. No, they were not Americans. Most of them Polish.
By the way that’s why I know so many people in Little Italy and I was happy when the coffee shop opened. I like when America is turning into Europe instead of other places. But then, when- so called yuppies, hipsters orr similar show up and take over – the neighborhood dies again. I will explain one day. It has to do with television and sports and other forms of brainwashing. The best period of each area is when it is still being FOUGHT FOR.
City and Pilgrims working in union- many artists, crazy people still live around – and then is becomes THE THING and the programmed, brainless sheeple move in. Coffee shops and bars like in Miami open up and sheeple get drunk while Syria and Eastern Ukraine are being bombed and robbed. Other places. When you are a loving stranger – you hurt. You watch sheeple newcomers and cry inside what this world has come to. I have some anger in me today. I can’t tell why.
If  soul was measured in depth – there is no bottom to my soul today.
Some other time I will write about other whirlpools. In my million dollar condo in Florida or on Wood street, or Milwaukee or on Wolcott, on Ashland, on Chicago, on fucking Oakley. I had sex in all of them/fucking Jacuzzis. Is swimming  pool a Jacuzzi?
Because J. was performing a fucking perfect blow job in my house in Florida once in it.
God, I apologize. Since our last conversation I am aware of timing. Please, understand. I am not frustrated. I am only not amused.
What was the conversation about? Nothing.
It started as a nightmare. When I say nightmare I mean nightmare square.
I sleep with doors wide open till it gets too cold for that. In the nightmare THE THING was walking up the stairs. I could hear its steps and I knew I stood no chances if I stayed in the apartment (mirrors) so in my dream I wake up and walk out to the porch to face IT.
It is a Demon, a really unpleasant thing to confront but I am shocked because I see the face of my mother inside of him as if she was imprisoned inside of him talking to me. She tells me to wake  up, now. That wakes up my brain, I am not in the dream anymore but my body is still asleep. I am trapped inside my motionless body the way my mother was trapped inside The Thing. I try to move, scream and at last wake up. I open my eyes, realize what is happening, talk to God. He answers but is not amused. I get infected with it.
It is obvious I need to go back to my roots and purpose I lost here, among these rats running in a cage. I am so disgusted with myself for becoming a rat among rats. Wasted so many years on bullshit, confused it for purpose. Not one day has a value. Programmed morons all around, debilitating morons. The conversation with the dude – where the fuck did I get a permission to talk with morons about their moronic perceptions?
Fuck it. I need to get out f this place.


Battle coffee next

Monday. I like to make Sundays out of Mondays but can’t today. First bank. Then Black Matter on Western or maybe the new one close by. Today is battle, I need coffee.
I will have to put two people in their place. I hate when people don’t understand their place and invade my space, my life.
Both are Polish so it will not be easy. They are hard-headed like Irish. Or worse. I use words to move people into their places. Or rather out of mine. It is privacy thing. My favorite Bulgarian folk song. Amazing lyrics. Poetry. And that face brings memories but that’s OK. I can live with memories. Old, stray dogs have a lot of flees. I have explained it before, she might have a face like D. but just looking at the picture tells me this face is not for me. It is immediate. I can sense a lot from pictures. Whole character of a person. Actually much more. I was playing with it once. Guessing if people on the pictures are still alive. I had some interesting scores.
This is what is called poor marketing campaign now, what I do. I don’t know if you saw it but I always looked at picture of the coffee shop owner where you work. He is a nice guy with some problems. We all have problems but he is a nice guy. Caring.
I am walking with D. to one of the offices I used to do business with. The owner looks at us, says hi to D. , grabs my arm as if I were an intruder and drags me outside  the building to catch some fresh air:
– How do you get these women, tell me, how do you get these women for fuck sake???
The only other one he saw earlier was B.
– Phil, I fall in love. I just fall in love. Waited one year for her.
– But how?
– I tell them the truth the day I see them.
– But what about the brunette then?
– She left me.
– Fight. She tried to dominate me like she did with her ex. Later was calling my parents for months to influence me to take her back. Actually it started the very next day. Since my parents never told me she called, I never went back for her. I would.
– Where is she now?
– Taken. By one of the Bears players from what I heard. Or something. Fuck it. Wasn’t meant to be.
– This one is nuts, Robert. You can’t just walk in with her like that. There are other women here.




Sunday. Weather sucks. I need to get my famous trailer. Used for traveling over the years, for diving and snowboarding.
Smallest cargo trailer. Slept in it many times when it rained.
Stickers from all the places all over its body. It has been dormant for three, four years?
I am riving the legend this winter. It is somewhere on the South Side. Borrowed it to a friend. Friend went back to Poland and sails in Greece now. Maybe making money on Arab refugees (just kidding). Not really.
Actually it is 8.48 am.
Working with The Associate already for an hour.
MaurycyBeniowski.com is slowly being born.

10.13 am
Burning wood in fireplace for the first time since winter and it is time for some music.
Also – all the left over pieces of lumber are consumed now.
Nice warmth. Construction lumber damages yuppie fireplaces. This is not a yuppie fireplace. Used it for many things besides looks.
Today to make breakfast.

12.04 noon
Leaving the house to get the trailer.
When I get it, I can put tear-drop trailer for sale. I like the legend better.

2.09 pm
The Legend is home. Had a friend drive behind me all the way. No turn lights.
Will get to it later today. Coca cola will fix it.
Have to move 3 pm appointment with The Sailor to 4 pm. I will take a shower at his place. Taking clean clothes with me.
I loved driving the trailer behind me. Felt like vacations or trip. That’s where we would put dive gear or snowboards.
That was when I was free, before my last girl-friend.
AT 4 pm we go for a dinner and discuss content of maurycybeniowski.com and plan the next one. Will need to contact one man in Poland and one in Hungary next week to do it the right way. Other things.

8.25 pm
Got back from a gym. While swimming I have realized how hard I worked on Saturday. Every muscle in upper body hurts.
Spent one hour in a spa watching people. Couple of gays pretending not to be gays, few Asians, an older woman who was visibly depressed, needs love, sex, youth back but knows it is over. Overweight.
I watched myself and that was not much better. Lost only fifteen pounds. By the end of the next week I want to lose fifteen more.
Through work and poverty, poverty has a tendency to eat too much, in advance, not knowing its next meal. If you can control poverty you lose weight quickly. What did I eat today?
Baked potato with some Ragu on the side for breakfast.  Then when I was picking up trailer, Peter gave me twenty bucks. I bought gas for ten, spent some more money on power bar and tea, gave him five back.
Now I will need some pasta and Ragu again. Diet tea. Kind of late but I will skip breakfast.
Will have money tomorrow – so the point is not to buy food but keep the pressure on the body. Watch it, listen to it but keep the pressure.
I did meet with The Sailor. We went over many things, I like listening to him. His stories are interesting but what I admire about him is his 100% pure genius as manager and visionary. Too bad he has never made money. He would be great. Is anyway.
As I left his place I bumped into Dave. Dave is the guy who made three million bucks thanks yo me. How?
I asked him to buy two of my buildings and he did buy them. That was when I moved to Florida. NSA can explain the rest.
Now he can get 4,5 million for them but that will be in my book dedicated to the girl named Ashley, whose energy I love.
I calculated how much I would be worth if I didn’t move to Florida or move my money) and stayed in Chicago. About ten million (not much but something) and that without doing anything for the past ten years, which would be impossible with me.
I can double any amount of money within few months. But now I hate money. I hate people who manufacture money.
I hate the spell of money, the sickness of money, the mental disease money comes with.
My ex-partner is worth over, way over hundred million. I saw him ones calculating our profit (that was before he fucked me) and John Rockefeller came to mind – I have read his biography years back – the American Money Psychopath and I knew my partner will one day be very rich. I told him that.
You need to be a psychopath from a sick family (most of the time) to be the original money maker.
He is becoming more deviant every year, we used to be friends but you don’t want to be friends with deviants and assholes.
Primitive on top of it. Trust me – you don’t need Rockefellers and Buffets around you. These are not people you want to know.
I tell criminals by charity, the more charity they do, finance various institutions the longer the list of their “crimes”.
I need money.
But that will only make me:
– better greased nothing within mechanism,
– or the above I described earlier.
Real money starts with mind. The un-programmed one and the one that wants to use the program to benefit itself. Description of a parasite right there.
I need my soup now instead.
I love you. David has promised to buy me vacations when he sells these buildings. It is in the book.
I want his motorbike. I only have accidents on my birthdays on motorbikes. Had one in London and one in Chicago. I have one year of riding ahead of me without accidents before the next one. I do love you.
Somehow. Girl. This is so weird but I need it to write. My writing will get better. Much better, I am just starting. Being myself.