Nikita Kapernaumov - 2019: The most obsessive diary of a rejected Martin Eden in agony

I wouldn’t have become a patient of a mental clynic because i wouldn’t have been so despearate. By now i would have been speaking just the same as quorthon, laiho, and all, at their this age. I would have made my albums long ago by now, and it would have been in the proper time and would have brought me certain opportuniies, which i was so eager after, on which all my happines depended. But I just didn’t have what i should have had in the proper time. And thus all the life has got fucked up.

Fuck, in the process i am not making any progress with the albums. Spent all night on this spell of frustration. But i just had to wreite otherwise i would have cried and extreemly raging, i was on the point of it when i began to write that.

Okay, i will be remembring the verbs right here. Then i’ll check. I’ll now just write down the verbs with some word from the context remembred.

The crowd bore us along

The falcon bore down upon its prey

He bore away the prize

She bore away the child

Bore the enemy down

Bore off from the shore – — – — – -bore off from

Bore off the luggage

We’ll bear out the statement

It doesn’t bear on the subject – beside the point

Bear up under the strain – to endure?

Dont beat about

The Sun Beats down

The rain beats down

Beat down the price

Beat the door in – — – — – — – — beat the door in

Beat out the fire

Beat out the meaning

Beaten up

Leaves blown about

Hair was blown about

The rumor was blown abroad

Trees blown down

Blow down the boiler

Blow offf

Blow on your friend

Blow out the candle – — – — – belew OUT

Blew out his cheeks

The tyre blew out

Blew the pipe through

Blew up

Blew up

Break away

Broke away

Break away from this habbit – — break away from

The car broke down

Plans broke down – — down

She broke down and cried

Broke down the door – — – — – — – down

Break in through

Break in on

Breaks in his

A bit broke off the corner

He broke off

The engagement broke off

Broke out between

Broke out on

Pane was broken out

Broke out from

Broke through

Broke upon

To bring about – to cause to happen

Did you bring it off?

To bring passengers off the wrecked ship

A book is brough out

The spectacle brought out a crowd

Bring down anger on herself

– — – — – — – — – — —

I did a few more verbs, but no, it’s useless. The number of rereremebrings and even rereadings doesn’t aught affect the abilty to remember all these verbs. I’m fucking sick of it all and want to die.

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19 03 19 – англо-русский флюгер, всё не так со своей музыкой, проблемы, мучения в кнб-и борьбе

( – какието подсчёты по вкладам. может высчитывал где выгоднее держать эти 197тыщ – )

197 921 рублей плюс будут 1го апреля проценты 808 рублей и ещё примерно стокоже в мае.

c 10 тыс

41.64 коп 9 января

64.74 1 февраля

58.91

с 7.6% – - в день 0,02082

morning

fuck how I’m sick of everything. My head is in a fuckingly extereme fog because of the pill i took yesterday and slept for 13hours. 6hours has past ofwaking and i have done only three lines for one lyrics and then felt that somethings wrong with one verb and gan checking and fucking wasted an hour and better, and then fucking got depressed and now am thinking whether i should switch to russian. I have had these fucking spells of doubting whether to switch to russian and give up fucking all those ideas of englishnes, i have had them all my 13 yeas of music. it looks like borderline stuff when ones mood changes from black to white, but with me it’s not that. I fucking see for real that something is wrong ( – с текстом какойнить песни – ), and then i of course fall into a depressive mood. Borderliners fall into a mood without reason. I fucking have reason. I have nothing to do with psychotic shit and all those diagnoses. Thats why i have no friends and nobody fucking understands me. becuase I’m fucking have a goal. And if something goes wrong and prevents me from going on i consequentnly get depressed, it’s only too natural. Borderlines and morons from reddit they do not have any goal and nothing goes wrong except their mood. They are ill. But i have things that go wrong. Now it’s the fucking verb, another time it’s the shitty equalizer, it can be anything and it breaks me fucking down and i end up being depressed and i switch off the pc and lie in bed and fucking sufffer.

Whats the sense of writing words if they do not say what i meant them to say

I fucking want to compose songs but do not want to write lyrics.

Now it’s the shitty sound in a new project for instance. The same vst gives different sounds everytime. Only in one song it’s given what it should so far. Yesterday it was good, i was working with that project and the sound was good and everuthong was good. Not its alll as fuckig bad as it can be.

Now it’s alll really f bad.

The same riff which i recorded yest doesn’t sound as good as yesday. To be onest now i really suspect that my mood is affected, that my perception of the same things is affected. I can take nothing good now. Yes it can be so. Only it doesn’t mean that i have any psychosis. I had a trouble in the morning and thats why my mood now is shit. That was really important to me, a trouble with which put me out. I have a natural reason to be greatly depressed now. Yes, i am easily prone to breaking down into such a depressed mood, thats my natural. But i am in no psychosis. I fucking hate the word. It is even an obsession now with me to constantly doubt whether anything with me is psycosis. I should have long age eradicated it to hell from my vocabulary, but it holds on. Why? because everybody fucking call me ill. When you are called ill every day you begin to behave like an ill one, in case you are attention seeking and love depended person (and consequentley hysterical and prone to my self-humiliated ways).

The shitest thing now is that this day is long one (i am unable to sleep for a day after I’ve slept with the pill for say 13hours) and i am in this shitest mood with thich i can’t do anything, i even can’t watch hamlet because it is shit and not interesting to me now. I have no reason to watch it as more important things are having problem now, and i havent solved that. Why would i watch hamlet if i can’t make a song right.

Everything is in pain, my body. Especially the neck. It’s fucking stiff and pains and the only way it doesn’t is when i lie in bed. But am i to lie in bad the whole fucking 24hour day?

Everything i play sound really shity now. It’s useles to try to do anything now.

Ive been sitting with the guitar up to now. Now I’ve decided to carry out an experiment. I ll put the gutar back and turn on some song by eslewho, a one which i love. And see whther i am liking it now.

Ive listened to the best perfomances I’ve hard this year John Morran’s grow rushes and his long night. It’s ambiguous. Yes, i am affected now. But the main thing I’ve to say is that i didn’t want to stop the songs. Mine i want to stop even before they are turned on. Mine are realy shit.

I recently, an hour ago, took a pill for head. It came off, the pain. But i am still f dizzy. The nick is stiff. It’s no life, this.

Ive again this morn (it’s still 11 am) sent perverted messages to girls from my slut-goer page. I see my female peers, they are real shit. And this i say without being affected. Even no that a more or less mood returned and I’m bobbing my head to John Jones – Boy in the Window. I hate the peer girls and my songs all the same. I cannot escape what is really shitty. This is why it’s all useless, this life. This is why i wanted to kill myself then 6 years back when moved to spb. Whatever mood i am in, even a super good one, the shitty things keep on being shitty and there’s no escaping. I cannot do what i want, do not have what i want. I am tempted to resume the autobuiography and release what songs I’ve recorded so far and get it all over with.

2 pm

Listening to music as i write the authobiography.

This composition is a masterpiece – - the unusual suspects – big like this – 03 – grappa groove. this is the sort of compositions i want to do. real cool melodies and sounding clearly, not my fucking mess of a sound.

Fuck, i now am in the same state as i was when i was about to do something terrible, like when i understood that it was over with gymnastics, or when i saw i couldn’t do anything right and proper when i was 13 and so crashed things in the flat and they took me to the clinyc, or when i cut off my fucking hair at 17. It was all about not being able to do things. I’m not able to write the authobiography. Whatever tha cause, I’m just not able. I do not want to do it. now i do not want to do it, no that, and thus the fucking life goes by. And in the process i can see people doing things right and living fucking happy. Fuck, im in a real hell now. I again have taken the guitar and the riffs sound better but still they are fucking riffs and not songs which i so fucking many years want to make of them. I cannot fucking make songs. For 13 years. THIRTEEN FUCKING YEARS damit. It is a real piece of shit of a life. The mouth stinks.

Im now realy on the verge of something. Todays mornings relistening of my song olisse has really let me down. It was song i had placed real great hopes on in the last days, and it was what made me drill the fucking verbs, i was hoping i’d end the verbs and continue and finish the song, the better, in sense of music, half of it was to be finished. But now I’ve recorded it’s real shit. It’s complete shit. I am fucking sick of it all. shit on every step of my creative activity. There are moments i realy love. But it’s then that i am affected. Then i admire both mine and others’. Now i am fucking only able to admire others’. When i admire mine too, then i must needs be affected by some expectation, that fucking illusional expectation of there being some success in the future, some fucking happines. But there is no happiness there of course, and when to fucking boot i see that a song is shit, i can nothing do but fucking get depressed and desperate.

Now that the pain the head passed off but all’s bad all the same, the only thing that i want is a girl. One bot just now commented me, a sweet young girl with little smooth tits and smooth white skin like fucking irish and i so fucking want her dammit.

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20 03 19 – ищу похожих на себя в грайнд метале, новые фотки сергея

Wanted to send to the old grindmetalist

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нет ли какойнибудь книжки, ну иле статьи на тему психологии порнограйнда? иле интересных интервью. интересуюзь темой. типаж ставят всю эту кравищу на обложках и в тексты, а так в жызне обычные белые пушыстые. как так

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just now had a luck going to nfour’s instagram. Got a couple of a new photos, and he also delelted the photos of him from the main page. In the shared photos on one he is almost bold on the last new year holidays