title: liquorice -
body: pretend it's
        just some vinyl.        

            these 502 bad gateway hacks are becoming...
not even bewildering... just idiotic...

it just dawned on me... come mid-afternoon...
i took a shower, put on the washing...
still ******* waiting to hang it up...
hmm... "counter-culture" and what not...
very unlike that glorious past of the 1960s...
i'm thinking: "red pill" and "black pill" and
******... sorry... incels...
    the future: a Saudi Arabia... copper-neck
new Brazil of trans-racialism... blah blah...
    polygamy or... a return to harems...
       but... i'm getting into a groove...
    oh **** me... **** me stiff... also necrophilia
style *******...
         men... are looking for *******...
they're bemoaning: a lack of *******...
  it truly is an Agent Smith argument...
        people... just... have no idea... what... entitles them...
when: they are given... shoved into...
having... absolute freedom! esp. men!
sure... women... do your thing... shackle with...
but we're finally free... take a breather...
you don't need to stash your make-shift imitation
train set in the garage...
     new focus: get drunk more... bask in the sun...
i'm free! weird... there is no social obligation
for me to couple up... and have someone
by my side to fuel the economy...
     this is better than anything Marx ever could
have envisioned! it's like the whole system
is going to self-implode because:
that's when Darwin sparred with Marx...
       as a man... i'm only going to spend money
on what i need... not what i desire... eventually: deride...
because... eh... leave the peacocks to the peacocks...
that saint: who wed himself to poverty:
Francis of Assisi...
                 depicted with a trio of pseudo-witches...
of Macbeth... or the Graeae...
i still don't understand... i'm trying...
     we're gloriously: free!
                 for once we can sort of live like *****:
freely-floating forward toward nothing:
with nothing: to mind!
               i still don't understand men that
bother themselves: bemoan not being pair-bonded!
borrowed from the tales of
the miseries of my grandfather and father...
*** is a great gift-card... but... later on:
i hardly wish i was "there": the preservation of life
can befall the "idiots"... sure... but life encapsulated
by one: for one... rather than the demands of
the many... what a relief!
   sure... life's burden from the perspective of "lack":
less is more... weird... weird... wriggly...
i don't know what to do with so much freedom!
ease up... i just don't know what to do with you:
dearest: freedom...
       woo hoo!
let's spell out some Deutsche!
   ich bin ein: frei-mann! woop woop!
       because... it's so demeaning... for a man...
to have only to focus on the ontology of woman...
ugh... sickly: sweet...
after all: women only spearheaded one "idea":
the Trojan horse of feminism...
hence the necessity to compound:
stoic-feminism... n'ah ah...
cynic-feminism... nope... not going to ******* float...
none of this is going to float:
i feel glad... irresponsibly glad...
almost altruistic / autistic... *******... *******: giggly!
ha ha! i'm laughing at my own jokes...
rolling out of control... having that dementia
moment of: transcending egoism that spells out:
I AM A GOD...
  or just... a very unfunny man...
whichever... i'm glad...
but i don't need to be a husband! i don't need to provide!
i don't need to be a wage-slave!
wow! phew! one relief after another...
and then euthanasia come the bad and terrible
and need for an umbrella...
phew! life... finally makes sense!
no one is going to miss me...
no one is going to grieve me...
i can't complain... i wouldn't want to...
it feels like it has almost been orchestrated...
i'm suspicious... now i want to drink some more
and... and... not bargain... ah... gambit: gamble
with traffic! with: big trucks and buses...
i feel an itch of: thirst that can't be quenched
with water... more: adrenaline...
         ugh... warm whiskey...
slurp-up: slurpy-****... juice up...
       *****-down...
                      ****... why is my forehead still aching?!
oh... right... that night i spent...
fighting with "myself"... or rather...
my shadow... whichever... even i get confused...
i still don't understand why men bemoan not
being subjugated... chased... hand-cuffed...
you're free! yeah... well... freedom does do a lot of
whacky **** to people who are:
5am wake up call primed...
              
me... happy... so happy that i try to make myself
feel sad... punching myself in the head
sort of alleviates the tension: but: not that much...
erratic cycling tactics in heavy traffic...
pretending to get a sun-tan...
that... oh ****... that helps...

      it's like... the Spartan warfare machine never
existed: even though... i'd love some rough and tumble...
even now... women scribbling Neo-****** of:
who is and who isn't to reproduce...
isn't it? Neo-******? out-breeding the lesser caste?
because... all women are the omni-caste...
no... they're not...
some will pop-out a: hyper-inflated head of a sort
of... "egg"... weird **** out from the imagination
of Mary Shelley... crap i'd want to dump... flush
down the toilet with my ****...
sorry... nature is cruel...

but it's a bit like: a square is square...
nature is nature...
you can't dispute it...
RADAR... you can spell that word
backwards and forwards...

     but me... hmm... what man wouldn't find relief
in life if he were bonded to a woman:
strapped... chin-mugged... scraping his
very dignity for some poke at the clam...
i just don't know what to do with my freedom!
like that Joker quote:
i'm like a dog chasing cars...
i wouldn't know what to do if i managed
to catch one!
i'm happy being sad... i'm sad being happy...
i'm like Eve having just eaten
the forbidden fruit... erotically "confused"...
but... not willing to give up that feeling
to the idiot that Adam was...
            ha ha: "transgender"... well... a little bit
of everything...

it's this freedom that's suspect...
well... if we are going toward an Arab style society
of polygamy and harems and...
and i'm a 6ft2 100kg hunchback with
bad teeth and bad eyesight and diabetes...
**** me... well then... Darwinism really works...
works like: Marxism never worked...
single men... driving the economy:
to the ******* ground...
   because... who the **** is going to buy hulahoops?
or dolls? or make-up?

again: i just don't know what to do with
my freedom... do i... simply: live?
wow... so much time... too much time even...
eh... pushing toward 80 isn't even an option...
thank god for the liberal attitudes of
the Benelux concerning death...
                      i'll most certainly look into that...
you can say your life is complete after
drinking milk... or eating an ice cream...
or something ridiculous like that...
   why? so freely disengaged from anyone in existence...
perhaps some drag concerning historical
figures... but...
     weird strategy... an even weirder energy...

not out of some upon-high reason for anti-natalism...
not because i'm an Einstein or a Newton...
i'm not the man who invented the nail or the hammer
or beer...

seeing prostitutes sort of helps with any
potential "anger"... "issues" about not being strapped
to potential: leech...
why is it in my nature to be so predisposed
to entertaining this idea like i should be grateful
rather than resentful for it?

mein gott... the days when women were these
mythological creatures of curiosity and
idealism... i hate writing these words...
           and what did they become?
prostitutes... headaches... or spare parts;

   you just can't prefix feminism-
  before any / every school of thought that man
conjured... because: oh the headache...
everything is replied with: ****!
   i'm alive... but... i'm ******* bailing out;
my lifelong dream from my youth...
honestly... i always wanted to enter a monastery...
i always wanted to become a monk...

nice to know that some choices could
be made for me...
and no... not at the altar of Ba'al Yatoosh...
who? ******* Hey-Zeus! Chrissy of Nazareth!

all the evil urges of the Demiurge:
that... i'm fine with... but not the kneeling
and pretend ******* break my jaw sort of b.c. to a.d. clocking
in to: life like a torment...
i don't exactly feel like living
in a clone army; in a hive mind.