. 'as for those poets, only the perverse follow them. do you not see that they go too far in every direction and say things, which they cannot do?' (ash-shu'ara / the poets 26:224-226).

call them what you like,
the Huguenots,
for all i care...

   you always side with
the "heretics"...
  
   given that, "said" heretics
retain some cultural value
relativism of other cultures,
namely in the form of
depiction -

    since why would, "the word"
be deemed holy,
    ****-naked,
                rather than donning
a bikini of "iconoclasm"...
         when words... are at
the meat-market of copyright -
what with © coca cola?

                 sunni islam would have
never allowed sufism...
  but Farsi does...
  and will continue...
since no Iranian will bow
before an Arab within the schematics
of history...

          Sunni Islam, it's Wahhabi sentimentality...
so why persist in signing
the Adhan?
   why not speak in a honing like
drone sentiment of plain speech?
i thought all music was banned?
the current Adhan is a form
of music... isn't it? BAN IT!

    you never side with these Sunni
muslims, exploiting Bangladeshi labor,
you side with the heretics of Iran...
these *******, i can at least respect...
  
      no fast cars, convenient ongoing
cultural insurrections -
   Sufism...
       Afghan women's poetry,
and all that much closer to Hindu mysticism...
    
yeah... "islamophobia":
but only against Sunni Islam...
   but Shia Islam?
   no problem...
   i could stomach these peoples
like i could stomach the in-between
of the Turkish variant -
no ideology - simply, pure, power throttle...

i could make a great Janissary -
with a Turkish barber...
         for a great trim of hair and beard...
i'd cast a shadow on some
obscure chocolatier of Brussels
who thinks himself a politician...

     but there are certain aspect of Islam
i am willing to tolerate...
   what happened to the son in law
of Muhammad, namely, Ali...
was raw ******* kicking...

               promises, promises...
no promises...
           Shia Islam, as an European,
i can tolerate, Turkish Islam, i can tolerate...
Turkey is incrementally shy
of being treated at the 2nd variant of Iran...
at least with Iran, we share a history
via the insurrection into the ancient
texts through Greece...

  come to think of it...
whenever i listen to
matta's song echo babylon...
i start feeding myself goosebumps,
reminding myself
of Cyrus... Nebuchadnezzar...
and the dim-wit that was
   Belshazzar...

always siding with the heretics...
if not on economic groundwork,
then at least motivating,
rather than monetizing an idea...

and the Shia muslims are...
    one way or another...
   unlike the gluttons of Dubai...
the barbie dolls of postage stamp
"proof" of progress,
in size, and worth...

   Sunni Islam would have
never allowed poetics to remain
a viable form of expression -
the Persian tradition that is,
far beyond the western concern
for a comment section...

         Shia Islam allows patronage
of the arts, notably poetry,
without concern for monetary
funding, it, at least, doesn't prohibit it...
given the pride of the Persians...
Sunnis and their continual quest
for finding water...
    sure... poetry is pointless within
such restrictions of
existential concerns...
    but... given the current, civilized
establishment?
   sky-scrapers in *******
sand dunes?

         the qu'ran should have
forbidden the architectural ambitions
equivalent to the tower of babel
being erected, in environments,
that could never sustain said projects...

    and who originally spewed the term
islamophobia?
Sunni Islam...
        i never liked this strand of belief...
i hate the Sunnis like
a Shia partisan...

p.s. it's called patriotism is America...
but nationalism in Europe...
    you sure that's not a synonym?
Europeans can't be patriotic,
and Americans are never nationalistic?

...

   well: how could i ever convert to islam,
i do enjoy the adhan from time to time,
"sorry", but i do...
  i can't help it:
if i'm a sucker for pop songs,
i'm also a sucker for the adhan...
   crusader songs, templar songs become
stuffy after a while...
and last time i checked:
     there were the northern crusades
against the baltic people:
notably prussians, lithuanians...
with that cushion of: mediating the
escalation of war by the polacks...
coming from the east:
  last time i checked the mongols
didn't reach leipzig...
               buffer zone people...
and what of the ottoman onsalught
of vienna 1529: the ****** winged hussars
won the charge...

so, coming back to heidegger... aphorism 26
ponderings IX... how am i to not be
the historical animal?
         perhaps in german, in germany
i might become a non-historical animal,
to begin: anew, but with a terrible
past to hide, to negate...
   i could do that: if i were a german,
speaking german, in germany...
but i'm in england:
            i might have some roots in
Silesia, but it's "hard" to not be a historical
animal, an "animal" with a sense of time,
i.e. a future a past a present...
esp. under the english conditions
of: the biological animal momentum narrative,
like a tsunami, like an earthquake...
ripples throughout...
              i can't move forward with
the english championing darwinism every
single ******* step of the way...
why can't they hide darwin like the polacks
hid copernicus...
given the motto: copernicus -
who moved the earth, and stopped the sun...
why wouldn't i escape into history
if the current biological reality is:
(a) a yawn... the cruel nature of per se?
   the courting of pigeons on a t.v. antenna...
pigeons get rejected all the time,
lesson learned, he bows and bows,
coos... expands his tail feathers upon
the bow then folds them... she flies away...
repeat...
    (b) i can't escape being a historical
animal in the way that what the current
facts are being repeated have encountered
a whiff of Chernobyll...
              history is inclided to answer reality...
biology? not so much... not from what i've
seen and heard...
             truly a schizophrenics disney dream:
to walk among the newly insane feeling
like the only sane among them...
beau-ti-ful!
                   well... given the current criteria
of being bilingual as being synonymous
with being a schizophrenic...
           magic!
                    
   now the crescendo...aphorism 24
ponderings X:

              the word designates, the word signifies,
the word says, the word is (heidegger)...

i found that you can only write
"philosophy" with a neat, fixed vocab. regime,
clarity of boundaries...
    quadratic events in vocab.:

i.e. the reflexive: yourself, himself, itself etc.
and the reflective: your, self....
                       his, self...
                                  it, and the self...
                    ergo? atheistic scissors,
  the two articles, indefinite and definite
                                 a / the "self"...

i'm not playing "identity politics",
when i say that only two peoples ever managed
to sack Moscau... the mongols and the polacks
with the help of lithuanians,
"identity politics" only happens in
post-colonial society, akin to the english,
i'll speak the english,
but i will not be a cucked indian of
the former raj: i will eat the fish & chips,
i will eat the sunday roast,
   i will eat the english breakfast with great
delight...
            but i will not do what these former
colonial masters expect of me:
integrate at the expense of making my
mutterzunge into hubris!
stubborness contra pride...
                hard to tell the difference...

and why do i like heidegger so much?
i'm not into the ad homine arguments...
my grandfather, was, a communist party member...
so?
       i like heidegger... because he appreciates
poetics, i like that poets can share the same
values as philosophers,
thanks to heidegger: we have been requested
back into the republic...
if plato and islam didn't like us, hanging around,
some offshoot german thinker / promenade
enthusiast like used enough to,
i suppose: ban the theatre puppeteers...

i am not playing identity politics...
biological reality is not enough...
but archeological reality?
       can you really advance to counter?
i was born near:
Krzemionki Opatowskie, a Neolithic and
early Bronze Age complex of flint mines
for the extraction of Upper Jurassic (Oxfordian)
banded flints...
  personally? i don't believe in
the African genesis conundrum...
i believe "my" people originated from
the Indian sub-continent,
as, associated with the complex:
Indo-European categorization of language;
i'm still to see an African phonetic
encoding system, beside the hieroglyphics...

i, was, born, there! i'm not a displaced
post-colonial debacle between former master
and former slave...
i have: roots... i'm not ******* up to the fish & chips
brigade with a friday night's worth of curry...
i cook my own curry,
and by god: it is the food of the gods...
i'll give the blue indians that counter...
but sure as **** not the worth of mead
or whiskey...

if they only tolerated themselves,
sure, learn the english language,
but know this much:
           english is the modern lingua franca...
it's the language of economics,
forget the natives, too ignorant to learn
either deutsche or française:
island-folk...
                what else, what other attitude?
even the russians are like:
that land of the weirdos? the idiosyncratics?
yes, we know that land...
the only "thing" that shelters the english
are the h'americans, the south africans,
the australians etc.,
  sure as **** the scots aren't sheltering them...
and, mind you?
   if the i.r.a. really wanted to plant
a bomb?
   a real bomb? they'd revert from speaking
any english to begin with... resorting
to revising their usage of gàidhlig:
ga-id-hlig... gaelic...
   like the welsh, stubborn people, proud people,
retaining their Çymraeg...
celt: said kelt...
the glaswegian football team?
       Çeltic... not: keltic...
  borrowed from the greek: sigma (ς: cedilla to ****)...
   wow! all the particulars in the english tongue!
guess it would take an ausländer to spot them!

U-21 european championships,
england versus romania:
                           a magnificent match...
the youngsters playing better football
than the oldies in their mid to late / early 30s...

i'm trying to tolerate Islam,
               it's not in my nature...
            hell... i enjoyed visiting a turkish barber
shop, i still have an unflinching opinion that,
the turks are the best barbers in the world...
but...

              this quote, is going to **** you:
same aphorism / pondering (24 / X) -


*** fight videos - count dankula...
you know what i'd love to do to these little
snarky *****?
the french revolution isn't enough...
n'ah, them hanging, is not enough....
ever heard of the butchers' hook?
                 it's also callled close-up fishing...
imitation hang-man...
   you insert a fishing hook...
and you let the sweeney todd ****** dangle...
on a hook, rather than a noose...
lords of salem come your way?
i'd rather the snarky teen hanging off
a fisherman's hook than dangle
like some lynched ******...
beside the suffocation,
i'd like them with a fisherman's hook entombed
in their hard palette...
         i don't want them hanging...
what am i? a sadist?
  i want them on the fisherman's hook!
when suffocating without a broken spine absorbed
by the neck isn't enough!
  fisherman's hook gallows is a
masterpiece... of suffering...
  most certain...
  when cheap comedy is being towed...
making fun of bums, or homeless people...
the current society is so welcome
to bypass all the "adventures" of Loki...
but akin to the lords of Salem...
burn!? such a limitated imagination!

ah... right... digressing...
        the reflexive / reflective quadratic...
language - only if speech  has acquired
the highest univocity of the word does it
become strong (enough) for the hidden
              play of its essential multivocity
(as withdrawn from all "logic"),
             of which poets and thinkers alone
are capable, in their own respective modes
and their own directions of sovreignty.

we do live in a time of a lost sense
of dialectic, since we do not live in a time
of etertaining dialogue,
perfectly sensible opinions,
that's all we have...

                       if one of these snarky *******
came up to me...
they'd get a chance to experience a rubric
of 4, knuckles...
what's 189 centimeters in empirical?
6ft2...      oh!
                   see where imagination takes you?
and here i was: thinking i was without it!
butcher's hangman...
oh, not so easy...
                  
                fame by no association to fame...
just the tears of parents who raised their children
to be nothing more than rugrats...
annoying gnat like bothersomes;
and nothing quiet special to be associated
with weimar berlin...
     just, these,
   h'american mall onlookers
with pwetty-guy-for-a-white-fly-mentality,
as borrowed from californian
1990s punk;

re-used ****** losers.

mad-hatter's fraction: 10/6....
      0.666...
      well: to the given extent:
1.666666(7)....
     1, 0, /6,
no number is divisible by 0,
every number, divisible by 1:
is the same number...
    mad hatter's 10/6...

   re-used ****** losers...
i like that phrase...
        7 for every 6, 7 for every 6...
until the 0. fraction comes
a 1.: exponential serf of 0...
0 being the multiplier...
          
         i really am growing a beard to less
don it, but rather to experience
a relief from patience...
war robots?
the first non n.p.c. game...
i like that, very much...
      and when i did:

you know my first experience of
love at first sight?
the younger sister of my then girlfriend...
****** up ****...

love at first sight is a terrible phenomenon...
i was nearing 18, she was barely 13...
i was dating her older sister...
but it was love at first sight,
the trouble with: love at first sight:
it doesn't lie...
it tries to lie...
          but it can't lie...

   paedophilia? a bit... untouched bodies
though... bodies of people who were
never supposed to touch...
i once said to a fwend:
well wouldn't it be ****** up if i touched
her?
   she's a muse, which doesn't translate
into vacating her as a busy body
worth of a touch, does it?
     if only my old friend samuel said
otherwise:
sylvester "contra" tweety:
my first girlfriend...
but her sister?
         i was nearing 18, she was about 13...
love at first sight...
untouched, cradled, unscathed...
and so she remained...
   until she did what every girl would
have done...thank god she remained
a figment of my imagination...
   rammstein: rosernrot...
    
           i have seen love at first...
such a load of ******* that it had to be
the younger sister of a girl i was dating...
and the **** that i had to be 18 and see
was just beginning her teenage transition...
the world unfair i grant
the most justifications... as being
the (just - unnecessary adjective) arbiter...

love at first sight becomes a forbidden love...
love at first sight was always a forbidden
love...
           and the sort of "love" that achieves
a perspctive of change that doesn't
translate into old age...
love at first sight is soon translated
into a love of affairs closely associated
with middle-age disenfranchised
state of affairs...
i.e. to love again...
            how else to feel relief from
having lost both one's inhibitions
               as well as one's ambitions?!
in the conundrum of the mortal
"question" of the continuum being
preserved?

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP thinking you are superior.
STOP believing you are entitled.
STOP acting in ways that are unfair.
STOP executing in ways that destroy, in ways that ****, in ways that harm.
STOP dominating ruthlessly.
STOP being threatened by a faith growing the fastest in the world, a faith apart of your history.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP the madness.
STOP the evilness.
STOP hiding behind lands with money and power.
STOP partnering with men dressed in thobes on thrones drenched in oil.
STOP being a thief - taking things that don't belong to you, occupying places that aren't yours.
STOP the ego.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP discriminating.
STOP hating.
STOP colonizing.
STOP cozing up with missionaries who divide Muslims, who **** Muslims and innocent others.
STOP listening to your loud-mouth desire to control and start listening to the calm, just voice of your God.
STOP being the bully of the world.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

When Muslims and others begin to think.
When Muslims and others aren't afraid to think.
When Muslims and others individually and collectively don't fear speaking up.
When Muslim lands with Muslim leaders start practicing what they preach and stop turning their heads and putting their fingers in their ears.
When non-Muslim lands with Muslim leaders stop being fearful and start preaching using the Quran and the life of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), with an understanding of God's words in the Quran and the words of the Prophet.
When Muslim leaders and other leaders abandon their pre-occupation with making money to provide comforts for their own families and children and begin concerning themselves with speaking the truth and doing right to ensure the comforts of all families and children.
When Muslim leaders and other leaders stop playing politics and begin speaking about politics and the hard issues affecting Muslims, humanity, our world.
When Muslims start holding themselves and holding their religious leaders accountable.
When Muslims and others start supporting their God-fearing, truth-telling, justice seeking leaders and role models.
When Muslims and others really believe Allah hu Akbar/God is Greater than and La ilaha illallah/There is no God or Authority but Allah or God.
When Muslims start seeing and understanding those who perceive and practice Islam based on a particular school of thought...Sunnism or ****'ism or Sufism, etc. and those who do not align themselves with one particular school of thought or ideology as all one Ummah, one brotherhood, one body.
When Muslims and others end resorting to the cultures of their countries and ethnicities and begin relying upon God's culture, one that unifies and strengthens all.
When lands of the world start making alliances with Al-Quds and with Palestine.
When humanity acknowledges the hypocrisy of Zionist Israel and the disaster and mayhem it has caused the world.
When the world realizes the criminality of Zionism.
When people of the world start thinking and acting globally and not individually or nationalistically.
When people begin to see, understand, and act in ways that reflect that the Muslims of Al-Quds and of Palestine are oppressed, grieving, struggling, bleeding members of one human family.
When each of us STOPS and thinks of them and their situation and the siege of the sacred Al-Aqsa Mosque and what role we all play.

by: Najwa Kareem

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP thinking you are superior.
STOP believing you are entitled.
STOP acting in ways that are unfair.
STOP executing in ways that destroy, in ways that ****, in ways that harm.
STOP dominating ruthlessly.
STOP being threatened by a faith growing the fastest in the world, a faith apart of your history.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP the madness.
STOP the evilness.
STOP hiding behind lands with money and power.
STOP partnering with men dressed in thobes on thrones drenched in oil.
STOP being a thief - taking things that don't belong to you, occupying places that aren't yours.
STOP the ego.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP discriminating.
STOP hating.
STOP colonizing.
STOP cozing up with missionaries who divide Muslims, who **** Muslims and innocent others.
STOP listening to your loud-mouth desire to control and start listening to the calm, just voice of your God.
STOP being the bully of the world.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

When Muslims and others begin to think.
When Muslims and others aren't afraid to think.
When Muslims and others individually and collectively don't fear speaking up.
When Muslim lands with Muslim leaders start practicing what they preach and stop turning their heads and putting their fingers in their ears.
When non-Muslim lands with Muslim leaders stop being fearful and start preaching using the Quran and the life of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), with an understanding of God's words in the Quran and the words of the Prophet.
When Muslim leaders and other leaders abandon their pre-occupation with making money to provide comforts for their own families and children and begin concerning themselves with speaking the truth and doing right to ensure the comforts of all families and children.
When Muslim leaders and other leaders stop playing politics and begin speaking about politics and the hard issues affecting Muslims, humanity, our world.
When Muslims start holding themselves and holding their religious leaders accountable.
When Muslims and others start supporting their God-fearing, truth-telling, justice seeking leaders and role models.
When Muslims and others really believe Allah hu Akbar/God is Greater than and La ilaha illallah/There is no God or Authority but Allah or God.
When Muslims start seeing and understanding those who perceive and practice Islam based on a particular school of thought...Sunnism or ****'ism or Sufism, etc. and those who do not align themselves with one particular school of thought or ideology as all one Ummah, one brotherhood, one body.
When Muslims and others end resorting to the cultures of their countries and ethnicities and begin relying upon God's culture, one that unifies and strengthens all.
When lands of the world start making alliances with Al-Quds and with Palestine.
When humanity acknowledges the hypocrisy of Zionist Israel and the disaster and mayhem it has caused the world.
When the world realizes the criminality of Zionism.
When people of the world start thinking and acting globally and not individually or nationalistically.
When people begin to see, understand, and act in ways that reflect that the Muslims of Al-Quds and of Palestine are oppressed, grieving, struggling, bleeding members of one human family.
When each of us STOPS and thinks of them and their situation and the siege of the sacred Al-Aqsa Mosque and what role we all play.

by: Najwa Kareem

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP thinking you are superior.
STOP believing you are entitled.
STOP acting in ways that are unfair.
STOP executing in ways that destroy, in ways that ****, in ways that harm.
STOP dominating ruthlessly.
STOP being threatened by a faith growing the fastest in the world, a faith apart of your history.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP the madness.
STOP the evilness.
STOP hiding behind lands with money and power.
STOP partnering with men dressed in thobes on thrones drenched in oil.
STOP being a thief - taking things that don't belong to you, occupying places that aren't yours.
STOP the ego.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

STOP discriminating.
STOP hating.
STOP colonizing.
STOP cozing up with missionaries who divide Muslims, who **** Muslims and innocent others.
STOP listening to your loud-mouth desire to control and start listening to the calm, just voice of your God.
STOP being the bully of the world.

Here you go again.

Confiscating another House of Allah's. In a precious land. In a historical place.

When will you man up. When will you assess your arrogance of the past and your arrogance of the present and STOP.

When Muslims and others begin to think.
When Muslims and others aren't afraid to think.
When Muslims and others individually and collectively don't fear speaking up.
When Muslim lands with Muslim leaders start practicing what they preach and stop turning their heads and putting their fingers in their ears.
When non-Muslim lands with Muslim leaders stop being fearful and start preaching using the Quran and the life of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), with an understanding of God's words in the Quran and the words of the Prophet.
When Muslim leaders and other leaders abandon their pre-occupation with making money to provide comforts for their own families and children and begin concerning themselves with speaking the truth and doing right to ensure the comforts of all families and children.
When Muslim leaders and other leaders stop playing politics and begin speaking about politics and the hard issues affecting Muslims, humanity, our world.
When Muslims start holding themselves and holding their religious leaders accountable.
When Muslims and others start supporting their God-fearing, truth-telling, justice seeking leaders and role models.
When Muslims and others really believe Allah hu Akbar/God is Greater than and La ilaha illallah/There is no God or Authority but Allah or God.
When Muslims start seeing and understanding those who perceive and practice Islam based on a particular school of thought...Sunnism or ****'ism or Sufism, etc. and those who do not align themselves with one particular school of thought or ideology as all one Ummah, one brotherhood, one body.
When Muslims and others end resorting to the cultures of their countries and ethnicities and begin relying upon God's culture, one that unifies and strengthens all.
When lands of the world start making alliances with Al-Quds and with Palestine.
When humanity acknowledges the hypocrisy of Zionist Israel and the disaster and mayhem it has caused the world.
When the world realizes the criminality of Zionism.
When people of the world start thinking and acting globally and not individually or nationalistically.
When people begin to see, understand, and act in ways that reflect that the Muslims of Al-Quds and of Palestine are oppressed, grieving, struggling, bleeding members of one human family.
When each of us STOPS and thinks of them and their situation and the siege of the sacred Al-Aqsa Mosque and what role we all play.

by: Najwa Kareem

As I sauntered on banks of Yamuna at night.
I saw a man old, bent, with stick in dhoti white.
Tardily, step by step as he came nearer to me.
With joy I smiled as our own beloved Bapu was he.

With tears in my eyes I asked, ' Bapu you are still alive! ,
those three bullets holed your chest, how did you survive?
What happened to you? Where were you all these days?
What you ate? How you lived? Now where do you stay?

Condition of your beloved land is deteriorating day by day.
Countrymen have left your path, they have gone astray.
Your image, your killers are trying to malign and degrade.
Berating your ways, encouraging means which you forbade.

******'s advocates on chariots are traversing Nation's length.
Day by day Fascism is gaining ground , gaining strength.
Disguised as followers of Sri Ram, deeds of Ravan they do.
Riots and killings are frequent, women and minors are targeted too.

Terrorism nourishing on terrorism, cruelty at its worst.
Targeting anyone, anywhere, time and again bombs burst.
Once a land of peace, land of sufism, land of saints,
now ******. Innocent souls being killed without restraint.

Regionalism is being encouraged and taking roots.
Unity of the Nation selfish politicians reduce and dilute.
Corruption is increasing everywhere and in all spheres
Even highest office of respect could not keep itself clear '

Passing his hand over my head he smiled and said '
I am just a spirit, long ago my weak body was dead.
Daily with expectation I rise and daily with despair I die
Daily my hope is shattered and daily with grief I sigh

They may have killed me but now I live in numerous hearts
They may write me down in history yet my message will dart.
See this flag, colour saffron is dear to me, colour green I love.
between them is colour white, colour of peace, colour of dove.

Nation divided in three hurts me more than bullets three
From casteism and regionlism country should be free.
Communalism should not be allowed to raise its ugly head.
With sword of constitution Fascism we need to behead '

Three sound disturbed the calm, beloved Bapu fell on the ground
I went to help but Bapu vanished with words 'Hey Ram' echoing around
Determined that this time his innocent blood will not go waste.
I collected his non-violent blood in my pen like ink with haste.

the virus is raging: or so we're told -
i don't really mind whether we're told anything
anymore - i can finally come to grips
with the male version of the niqab:
just fine...

                              but once the virus impregnated:
whether our actual bodies or...
whether this: that be the detached from the herd
mind - whatever cull word: or choice of....

but... islam stopped: doing its business of
a revival... a revival... mind you...
that only involved the sunnis...
  it's like: the ******* would rather sweep their
whole schism under the magic carpet...
no... they wouldn't: they: sunnis...
wouldn't attack the sh'ites... the persians:
yeah... good luck with that...
the persians would bow before...
a bunch of camel jockeys:
  the library of baghdad...
              and: a library with only one book...
quasi-poetry: that damns poetry...

but i guess a book that takes hold of the heart
is much more than a book
that agitates the mind...
the bible: agitates the mind...
**** knows what it does to the heart...
but i'm sure to know that...
a proper adhan...
   can leave me in tears...
like...

but when i hear: da pacem domine...
or anything! anything resembling teuotnic songs
of the conquest of the baltic states:
too bad for merry ol' german...
having converted the prussians...
the prussians...
well: the revenge of the pagans over
their christian overlords...
or some **** like that: otherwise a different cover...
so much so that...
the polacks stood a chance with the kashubians...
and the silesians...
mongrel tongue they are much at home
than if ruled over by prussians...

jihad: a war of reclaiming land...
never a war of intrusion...
you reclaim all you have lost:
but you do not claim new land...
it's not a holy war beside:
what has to occur naturally: the growth of
an idea: that the enzyme is a sword...
well: no one's perfect...

but given there's a break from
fetish fashisto islamism...
     turban afghan / saudi sunni **** flinging
pajamas... well...
what about the hugo boss uniforms you
promised with all that oil money you ******
away on yachts and ****** that:
those ****** were waiting for you in jannah?!

of course i'm teasing the mamluk and
the janissary...
if you fed me... adhans... poetry...
and then: speeding to modern times...
played me as this egyptian stranger...
in amsterdam: architecture student... genius doodler...
an afternoon with him... beers and some jojo-and-mary...
in amsterdam... or... the previous afternoon
and these two slobs: germans...
and he gave me a song to listen to...
how the world dwarfed...
le trio joubran - masar...

i have nothing in christianity: a headache...
i tried judaism: too complicated...
linguistic avenues: herr zensor ha-shem:
the name of: kether: keter -
crown... you can only be so smart...
before: ehyeh asher ehyeh just because the same
bogus "trip" of pickled intellect you
have with that trinity and: fraction...

da pacem domine...
            muhammad can start wearing a niqab
at this moment... i don't even know whether
a proselyte status is teasing me:
i can't tame a heart: esp. my own...
but seeing the clear reduction of islamic
intrusion into christian affairs of:
yawn... usury? iconoclasm?
                        contra: the former...

you sold me on the romance of mamluk and
jannisary... because i'm fat from being tired
from what christianity has to offer...
honestly... even if there was a nag hammadi
library revival of the gnostic section...
or... 100 years from now...
there was news about the fate of isaiah
and the dead-sea-scrolls...

                 the muslims are not attacking...
by the grace of god...
some authoritarian mouthpiece from their shitpile
of clueless stopped talking...
and the adhan could be listened to: again...
and rumi minimalism could be read:
sufism! could be digested...

my mind can wander calendars... days and decades...
dreams and deja vus...
it can cross boundaries inanimate object
territory and turn to all things fuzzy
in the realm of hallucinations:
denial, doubt, conviction
in one way or another...
fractions of synonyms...

i cherish the one libra... the heart's:
yes....           or...                      no...
then there's the christianity that borrows too much
from its: "cultured" / cultivated paganism...
whether greek or trojan (alias latin)...
i'm tired of these arguments...
they're either claustrophobic (without any
evidence of clarifying workable space)....
trash: recycling matter... per-haps...

                      hoarder peoples of the world
"unite"... no... i'm "bored" and just exhausted
by the secular arguments or how
the trinity fraction ingenuity should work...
when islam is stsarting to turn lazy...
i figured: the romance associated with
the mamluk and the janissary is open, yes?

sufism and the indivisible one?
the vector: the north: point north vector -
the frankenstein moster clue: that's still open?
will i meet the drawfish turks along the way...
and they'll come up with...
canons for ****-open the walls
of constantinople?

      ever convert someone by way of
shrivelling up their testicles or crucifying their
mind on the altar of phobias?
if you don't have the heart...
you might as well be gagging for an achilles' heel...
if that!
christianity and pop cult. secularism...
i'm bored of worshipping
a static demigod...

        how many demigods came...
preceding? but this demigod is the fraction
celebration: the intellectual *******
of people who: cared not for...
the ferris wheel, etc.
                    
         rome is no more!
holy rome is no more: the "*****" achieved its purpose...
citing Casimir III also helped...
the nomads moved: jumped over the pond...
spider patience as released into
the city-scape: well of course... well done!
applause!

the question "question" is never asked...
given... hasn't christianity become a quasi-polytheism?
how many denominations?
too little gods: and the one...
as a fraction... can just keep on giving:
yet another preceding 0 of: the divided fraction
booth...

         the schism within islam was hardly
an intellectual:
all these "byzantine" precursor details...
such a bothersome spectacle for all:
that mind the bureucratic shoo! shoo!
              an intellectual affair:
                       worldly affairs... Ali was promised x...
the caliphs decided on project y...
the integrity of "the prophets" word:
while aging... senile yet still *******
a fresh cherub-and-orange akin to...
                 Khadija **** Khuwaylid still on my mind...
in praise of older women...

according to malcolm X and: cassius clay...
islam knows no race...
since... christian fwench... catholic...
spaniard catholic: later christian...
german retro: swiss...
anglican fudge-packers...
             yes... islam is not a nationality:
nor is it a race...
then again: what is croat... former yuogoslav...
or greek...
when... ahem... all that matters is...
h'american patriotism?!
if only the h'americans can be patriotic...
only the 50 shingles and twin barons
of stripes is on the ready...
the h'americans are: patriotic!
the rest of us are being nationalistic:
cousin-******-******!
can't islam come via Sarajevo and...
become... an escape plan?

   Ezra Pound might have cited:
the former proud stance of christianity against
usury... and now...
loan-sharks...
   i could be a slave to islam because
i could finally escape the "lost" e in
a ethnic grouping that has me locked in with...
the st. petersburg crowd...
the slavs...         and the germans: are... germs...
east a vowel - prefix at the wrong moment...
thank god that islam is not a people
but an idea...
and i'm burning with it...
without need to make or meet
proper formalities of conversion...
by heart's analogy of the mind's banquet
of the thesaurus...
when will the simple yes...
or the simple no arrive?
i don't know...
                i don't want to know...

after all: will you frequently hear...
of a *** / 'ebrew convert?
no! of course not! it's a... v.i.p. club...
you being a jew is more than an "idea"...
yep... it's exactly "also" a race...
you don't get to bypass all the cousin *******
cousin inbreeding on a whim...
you don't get to be given a "choice"...
while islam readily converts...
new blood...
islam readily converts because...
you were never a chosen within the confines
of the distinct few:
which is nice...
islam readily converts: while christianity willingly
abandons...
why am i looking into a mamluk /
janissary romance novel genre?
will i write one?
do i look like someone to turn a silver
spoon into a ***** and fake
a sigh?

dare i: dare not i: "not i"...
back into the basic structure of words:
back into syllables...
words like: da-je (it's giving)
                           i forget all the other mamas' and
papas'... "lyrics"...
i'm just bored of the exclusivity and
inclusivity of peoples...
mind you: i mind more...
what's that: fidgeting me... irritating me...
such the atom: like the letter abounding
around them...
it's nothing special... it's just: fudge...
and a simple metaphor of concrete and
indigestion to have to... endure...
gorge... digest...

                i'm bored of christianity
because of the ruling "christianity" of h'america...
back to basics: son of sam...
thank god for the atlantic ocean...
some distance... some perspective...
evangelical: denominations of old world
protestantism...
no... all the basics of:
looking at women with "fun" prospects...
joy... what about the joy of a bicycle...
it's like ******* retards claiming:
casper the friendly ghosts and
spiderman were touch-up buddies to sooth...

thank you h'america... send me back
to afghanistan... and pashtun womens' poetry...
too many minutes spent on this insomnia footprint
of the web: i still believe a t.v. and a computer
and internet access should be akin
to resembling a fireplace... fixed locations...
no?
i don't actually mind:
eating a burger and getting a blockjob
like driving a car...
on a smooth motorway...
try the same... and giggling... on horseback...

if i could gonvern myself to establish a matrix
of prayer - rummagings of a lacklustre
of schiphrenia - perhaps...
for all the freedoms "imposed":
and not imposed - shimmy shimmy -
and all that isn't received as: to pass...
restrictions galore...
the smooth shake-me-up...
secular: testicular clean shaven *******
tip of luck when licked: etc.

           yeah... yeah: sign me up for that...
pedestrian safehaven!
the promises of science...
                  the christian day to day...
and the... straitjacket of islam...
or... or... prop-er... PWOPH-EER "judeo-christian":
and some salty Cicero...
and some pepper stiff 'istotle!
                  
   love is... love is: pseudo-echo: his eyes...
and all the little idiosyncracies still alive in me:
that makes me focus on me:
and not on... the expendable you...
     all i want is to focus on these details
without having to infringe on: detailing you...
to what...
                impaled... which has to be
more insufferable than a crucifixion...
but... let's not mind that...

              the detail comes around with:
the civic world is a world that the ancient
romans laid a claim on...
the rest? that the romans didn't lay...
a claim on? fifth partition of poland...
a ****** job over the "question" of iraq...
i'm not this "white" ****-boy's boor...
but that i am: since i'm not his baron.

- all that bob woodward & carl bernstein
achieved... deep-throat alias
of that ninja in m.g.s. PSI...
but what i included... but what jonathan landay
and warren strobel couldn't...
it breaks, the "heart"...
or at least the mind... capable of...

- honestly... i never much appreciated
rembrandt...
but... what wouldn't... otherwise...
a sobering-up sessions of sitting on the edge
of the bed do... otherwise:
better good... than the thus presented...
than... hang-over... looking at prints
of the aging rembrandt...
no... not the zenith... the impeding
nadir...

          would it still be necessary for me
to ingest from l.s.d.?
the lazy strokes of grace-
any other adjective of pompous
sycophancy is open: though... to be added...
no... not because his a well known name...
but because: i never found the sort of
raw beef: or the sort of stomach...

the question of the "question"...
within the realms of the diaspora...
that's a hard "question"...
given the diaspora is... a status quo that...
look at the orthodox yids / hebs
of brooklyn...
they're not leaving and brooklyn isn't...
either... the question of a people
without a diaspora...
is still only a "question"...
like that: MADE IN CHINA... "question"...
i still haved things in my possession that have...
MADE IN HOLLAND...
MADE IN INDIA... MADE IN IRELAND...
hell... even MADE IN BANGLADESH
makes you believe in a higher quality than...
all that CHeap CHequers ***** from
the land of BING JING... and the squirming
dwagon...

ask any thai or any... the chinese are not
the best parts of h'america...
and the worst parts of russia...
and... all the rest: reincarnated horde motto:
mongol...
joke... stinking camel jockeys will
not touch a squat of pork for fear
of the silk road mafia:
yow-eatz the stinking sheepz...
me eatz pork & leather
    me eatz pork & leather...
                                     shoe?! shoe?!

shrimp **** gets a hard-on and there's no
mushroom saxon esq. 1960s mantra...
of toll culture!
               well: shrimp **** is hardly:
a korean sand-bag or a piece of japanese
porcelain skin... whiter than porky-pink
gets handled by haggling over Libya...
and the Spanish... sun... tan!
- it's a good nuance though...
given that... all of the baltic sushi is
ascribed the status of: herring herring herring;
raw... yes... in a gherkin infused
cream... creamy dreams of a less robotic...
less stockholm syndrome... Stockholm...
the museum of the tomb of the Vasa ship...
and all those yachts...
seeing Stockholm... no need to see Oslo...
Helsinki... Copenhagen... seeing St. Petersburg...
i really... really need to see Istambul;
smoled salmon... rye bread...
mayonnaise... cucumber... dill...
rainbow trout caviar...
it would be a luxury... caviar...
if everyone was willing to eat it...
but... given the price... only a few could...
caviar would be a yacht symbol of richness...
no... you want a better summary?
caviar is... marmite...
you either love it... or hate it...
everyone almost everyone:
the greater majority... can stomach...
poultry abortions...
caviar is not a luxury... it's an idiosyncracy;
there's no "acquired" taste...
it's something akin to: the web architecture
a priori in the confines of
'ed... of the spider...
or how... the woodland pigeon builds
a nest... "from thin air"...

             learning to walk...
is so class-A drug... bourgeoisie...
                perhaps there was a russian revolution...
perhaps there was the industrial revolution...
all in all: there was only the french revolution.

promise me! promise me to get me out of this hell-hole i put myself in! promise me! i don't know why i put myself through, several days of transcribing a snippet, this was merely a snippet from Kierkegaard's oeuvre, but, how unbelievable! each word was a labour, prop up the book in the right place, read, don't look at the keyboard, let the devil find work for idle hands... look for the devil who would be able to write like he might read Braille! my god, the punctuation, ****** an elephant's ***...the essential Kierkegaard - edited by howard v. hong & edna h. hong: hurt my sensibilities, or, rather, my pedantry, when it comes to punctuation... transcribing is not plagiarism... its brick-layer toils... one word, after another... if i were translating from Danish, i think i'd punctuate the text better: to give it some... panache! some: oomph! you know? this is my dedication, i'm supposed to be awake at 7am... i already shined my shoes, i've already prepped my white shirt, black trousers, black clip on tie, i have my papers (credentials) in order... tomorrow i'll be at the London Stadium overlooking West Ham take on Leeds United in the FA cup... like always, i'll be more interested in the crowd... spotting a pretty girl among the "yobs"... because i truly care about football when it's on the t.v.: in real life... i once stood with three cans of beer and watched a non-league / non-professional match compromising of enthusiasts in a park, at a distance... i couldn't see much... i still don't see much difference... unless it's on the t.v.: the stadium doesnt really "frighten" me... but this one time in the park, i sort of looked the Michael Myers part... headphones in... one young woman was trying to... communicate to this older woman: also walking her dog... about confronting me... i think i "said": gaze... i looked at them... the younger woman was trying to tell the older woman about confronting me... the older woman told the younger woman: YOU, HAVE, NOTHING, TO TALK ABOUT, WITH THIS, MAN! i was drinking a beer, standing... a decent distance from the football match: but i also remember that... that 1995 Charity Shield game at the Old Wembley between Manchester United & Newcastle: ants kicking a grain of sand... obviously i didn't understand why i might pretend to be a *****... my new favorite word... *****... alias for paedohpile... if i don't look menacing and some woman can "think" she stands a chance against me: merely posturing... then we have issues... oh **** me... transcribing... that's worse than plagiarism.... i once did the most pristine plagiarism job on some... social-science course up in Edinburgh... i was having to make up credit scores, being the romantic idiot... losing my virginity to Isabella of Grenoble... oh, get a French girlfriend, take up French... i hate the language... they write what they don't speak: phonetically... which is sort of in line with my prior ambition for the plunge - to transcribe some Kierkegaard, but also translate some SZYMON STAROWOLSKI observations... circa... 1650... the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth... sorry.. it's not going to happen... i've done enough transcribing enough *******'s worth of: this punctuation needs to... "go"... to better understand myself... through this iron maiden of: someone else wrote: what someone else wrote... i'll leave ol' SIMON for another take... given... transcribing is a labour... writing, freely... idiosyncratically: appealing to my, appeal...  how, why, when... oh i can deal with that, these days... it's not even concerning what sort of thesaurus peacocking exfoliation is being used / abused by the writer... i'm... more allured... by... punctuation... since i don't bother to rhyme, since i find all lyricism a tad bit... crass... what else is there? the measure of: how to stop... how to begin... how to "objectify" the conjunction-intermediacy of... punctuation... no manner of human speech can be / could be encapsulated by comparing it to a river... point being... i'd rather write as freely as i can, about the most mundane events in my own life: prop up my subjectivity than... somehow... "somehow"... succumb to some sensible objective reality... objectivity does not give me a drive... it does not equip me with a manly persevence... it's antithetical to what i understand as human nature simply because... ha ha... objectivity has been owned by the English... it's their lot of being sensible... like watching would-be journalists looking at what's currently happening in Kazakhstan... then trying to compare it to... the posturing: the civilian security of protests in Ham-Ham-H'America... and it's like... so what? the people are simply, expected to, take it?! the liberty's of the individual that believes himself to be outside the collective will... sure... well... sounds nice... unless of course... the hive really does come after you... i'm all for individual liberties, after all... i own a private library that could put the public library where i live to shame... although... i'll give them a sly one: Thomas Mann's Dr. Faustus... they owned it, i simply loaned it... fair enough... but i'd rather write about women... i was having my haircut done... closed my eyes... because... hell... the mirror and ****... with my eyes closed i was stroked by this blonde bombshell... we talked about owning dogs, about owning cats... Alsatians? oh, i really have a hard-on for them... i used to own a dobberman... prior to it being illegal to snip their ears and cut their tails... she was a cat that does that to her? like she looks to be self-harming? perhaps she should nickname him Freddy Krueger?! my maine ****? oh... it's rainy, he just sleeps in my bed... he usually sleeps with me.. what?! the bed's big enough for the both of us... i'd love to own a boxer... i'd love to own a rottweiler... i'd also love to own a Triumph bike...

one of my replies... you know, a liter of whiskey can go down well... i get double drunk from good conversation, i rarely encounter what i'd consider a good conversation... that's why... i much prefer to drink alone, of note... i had more fun pretending to talk to myself than expecting "talking" to be an anti-canvas with some, living, breathing: might have kidney failure, etc. punk or, sociopathic? here's the script:

see you now,, i'm just about to rewrite a Kierkegaard transcript.... i can't imagine it being much fun... the whole process is so unoriginal... but oh, oh so necessary... that i sort of don't want to live without it... bonus points... i''ve drank enough to make it... bearable... trans-scripting....i danced a little in my bedroom, donned my cat with a pair of sunglasses.... thank god i'm not kind of a sort of H'american version of a... "winner"... so much of life can be tolerated when it's not being competed for!...

i've just filled out an induction form for the West Ham stadium, played niceties with my supervisor, sent her an emoticon, LOLz back... i'm pumped up, ready to smack a few teenage boys into shape, what, could possibly go wrong? speaking below the depth of breath / audibility, watching the birds... i want, i want to give them a second, a third, a fourth... chance... let me give these people a chance... i know their failures... but... the possibility of being loved by one of them, whether man, or woman, whether pseudo-woman... i'll go as far as to say... i wouldn't mind a "Thai surprise"... i know they're capable of it... give me this already acquired heart of stone... and i'll show you... that they'll bleed rivers of honesty... just a little while... that is all i ask...

this is all, of course, before the plunge begins...
wait...l of course there's more, there have to be constellations
involved!

it was originally titled: Private Library Allure...
now, i'm "thinking": two ripe mangoes...
a mango curry or a mango chutney,
or perhaps, both?!

i have this one particular constellation in mind, that's visible to the naked eye, don't worry about - wait... let me take a second look:

•
                  •


                    •
      •



           •

•
    

            •          (circa)... the big wheel...
the grizzly she... in terms of gods & men...
there's an replica: much smaller...
so i guess this is the microscope: since it is enlarged
while the identical constellation
is a telescope...
       no matter... i'm thinking of this constellation

                                 •
                          
                          •
      
                   •
                       •
                    

                          •
                             •
                                •



              •
          ­                                            •

the scorpion constellation, it only appeared once
(to my knowledge) in pop culture,
in Dreamworks' the Prince of Egypt...

now wouldn't that be a waste... me simply drinking,
not allowing alcohol to be the extra calorie intake
that might require me to scribble...
waste of a good whiskey: should i simply drink it
and not focus on scribbling...

point being, i'm about to undertake something
i'm not very keen on, to prove a point,
i'm about to transcript two of the most profound pieces
of writing that recently caught my attention...

not to mention i'm reserving bragging rights...
my private library is... richer...
than the public library of the town of Romford...
i might be an alcoholic,
but i'm also a bibliophile...
there's nothing more precious thank a book...
perhaps a tonne of bricks...

why did i decide to cycle in these temperatures...
****'s sake... i'm old school,
i don't "trust" wi-fi cordless earphones...
the temperature dipped so low that
now the wires are performing at sub-optimal standards...
sort of hushed...
mind you... i love the cold of the January nights...
******* get such a hard-on for the wind
that they almost feel like they've been pierced...

none of the following will be original content,
but i just have to transcript it...
maybe a whiskey refill... a cigarette...
i need to get into the groove of typing up
someone else's work...
oh ****, there are two of them...
well... at least one of them i will not have to translate...
however: do i want to include the original...
all those diacritical markers (ctrl + c / ctrl + p)
will be rather fiddly... do i have the time?

- oh, right... i'm here... the above was...
"somewhere" / "sometime" else...
a sort of... quantum-dasein...
past-participle... black hole... blah blah...
i'm still gearing up for the transcript
of Kierkegaard...
the translation of that ****** equivalent
of the Czech: YAN HUß

-------------------------------------- (pending line)

the pending line is not moving... i've already
written a pre-scriptum a day "late"...
i think i'll manage the Kierkegaard...
but none of the ****** "crap": since...
i'm not about to translate...

once more, please refer to the essential Kierkegaard...
edited by howard. v. hong...
& edna h. hong...
            hong? i too have a terrible surname...
a bit like ******, or Stalin...
people see Elert... they immediately prompt me
with: so... you're AH-LERT?!
i never hit them back with with...
you sort of missed this zeppelin...
it's etymologically german...
in earnest... it's missing: SCH...
that's... ESCHLERT...
          but i have no trouble with people
who like... low hanging fruit...
pedestrian interactions...
         a peasant among among peasants...
a peasant who can discriminate against
peasants...
my given surname at birth was no much better...
fellow countrymen...
oh... i remember it... this one time...
tricked me...
open your mouth...
so i opened my mouth...
then quickly closed it...
i was spat at... a fellow countryman spat
in my face...
although he was aiming at my mouth...
i hold... not allegiance to the English...
1997... why was i deported?
for being an economical migrant?!
oh... the world is now, somehow, ******* welcome?!
i hold not allegiance to the English:
to the tongue: all...
but i also hold not allegiance to my inherent
****** reference... i'd rather just call it
a "reference"...

i abhor both parties... one for sort of telling me to
******* because:
they're now the church-going party of people
and my grandfather was conflated with being
a communist party member:
sure... since... socialism in a soviet
satellite was very much the same sort of shin-dig
as it was in RaSHa... ROSIYA...
*******... wanking me off a little...
**** Poland... **** England...
both can sink... to... whatever they deem
to be acceptable by their standards of...
oh... in England... peer Lord Ahmed... *****...
Rotherham... fun times!
i don't even want to know anything about
Poland.... my ethnic class by birth...
i'd rather ******* and create trans-ethnic mongrel
gremlins with a a girl from Kenya...
in Kenya...
yeah... me... in Kenya... creating a pseudo-Brazillian
republic of... copper-skinned polymaths &
multilingual freaks!
sign me up!
                  
i really didn't expect to mind much of me...
it's nice that... they read so little nd watch so much regurgitation
of a t.v...

like i once pointed out: objectivity is...
overrated... hell... it's more than that...
by now it has been hijacked by fake-news and
anti-science pseudo-narratives...

which tells you a lot about a people who
seemingly tolerate Muslims...
tolerating Muslims that don't tolerate Sufism...
i'm good with the Turkish barbers...
anything else... you better ask a Hindu...
how do Hindus "tolerate" Islam... if, at all?

these are not my words... they are a verbatim
transcript that most public libraries will not own,
but i own... ergo...

the subjective existing thinker is aware of the dialectic of communication. whereas objective thinking is indifferent to the thinking subject and his existence, the subjective thinker as existing is essentially interested in his own thinking, is existing in it.

(insert: my own questioning furthered from the genesis of this 19th century Danish thinker... point aside... i am... the queen's subject... i am not, the queen's object... the queen is not forcing me to be subjectively objectionable to... say... building a new wing for Windsor Castle... i can't be, regarded as the queen's object... constitutional monarchy doesn't work through the expedience of extension... i am the queen's subject, i am not her object... i am subjected to the queen... the monarch... but i'm not... "objected"? i'm not objecting to the hierarchy she presupposes, predisposes with... it's almost a "paradox"... but as a subject... in the most immediacy... as a subject... i am not her object... i am not her servant! that some people, within her immediacy are her objects, by regal extension, her guards, her... ******* tea nannies... sure... but... i am beyond her claim for being objectified... i am "subjectified"... how? i can fester... concern for the monarch, i can adorn her with "dasein": care... but her regal extension dilutes itself... her regal power... the cut-off point... is... when she can no longer objectify me... i can be no more her ******* tea-*****-nanny... her soldier... hell... a police officer is not made a police officer by some royal decree.... a police officer is a subject of the regal authority... a soldier? an object of the regal authority... why? the soldier serves the crown... the police officer? serves the public: the subject of the subject(s)... not... like the solider: the object of the object... to be subjected to "something": is hardly demeaning when otherwise the supposed stance of being "demeaned" is to be: objectified... counter to any sort of "argument": to be objectified... is to be spared... the experience of being: subjected to... i.e. / e.g. to objectify a woman... is a synonymous expression for... not subjecting a woman to... what objectifying her in the first place might... entail... by objectifying a woman... you're at least not subjecting her to... the undercurrents of objectification per se...

even i am thinking to myself: this sounds stupid...
the fox is currently having an asthmatic fit of giggles
come 2:20am...
if i am objectifying a woman as a "thinking thing"...
then... i'll be less likely to subject her to: think...
if i am objectifying a woman as a hammer...
then... i'll be less likely to ask her to:
also bring some nails along...
that's the positive on the micro-scale...
because on the macro-scale?
i'd rather be the queen's subject than...
be her... well... the extension of the queen:
her object... her tea-*****-nanny...
her soldier... her... prime minister...
it's a ******* weird dynamic... but...
it's the most pristine that has ever existed... period...

constitutional monarchy ought to be
the envy of the world, for some of the bad apples...
it still i... it should never be undermined...
should it ever be... i'd call that... treason!
to the very fabric of reality!
and as someone who was diagnosed as schizophrenic?!
go figure... but don't come cryuig to me...
make, sure...
you have some "ice-cream" **** readily available
to sa e you, some Rotherham **** heart-throb...
why oh why... having lived n these Isles...
for as long as i have...
the would me mothers of my would be children...
i'm not even going to beg to, ask...
low i.q. breeds low i.q.:
naive... people(s)...
           genius is an aberration...
it's a  mutation...better stuid and reproductive...
work along: plenty for the ants..
*******, ants...
and once they age?
darts?! football matches?

i can't blame them!
i have yet to cite them proper...
although: thank god the filter
of having to invest in having to read...
in people actually reading

therefore, his thinking has another kind of reflection, specifically, that of inwardness, of possession, whereby it belongs to the subject and to no one else. whereas objective thinking invests everything in the result and assists all humankind  to cheat by copying and reeling off the results and answers, subjective thinking invests everything in the process of becoming and omits the result, partly because this belongs to him, since he possesses the way, partly because he as existing is continually in the process of becoming, as is every human being who has not permitted himself to be tricked into becoming objective, into inhumanly becoming speculative thought.

the reflection of inwardness is the subjective thinker's double-reflection. in thinking, he thinks the universal, but, as existing in this thinking, as acquiring this in his inwardness, he becomes more and more subjectively isolated.

the difference between subjective and objective thinking must also manifest itself in the form of communication ˣ. this means that the subjective thinker must promptly become aware that the form of communication must artistically possess just as much reflection as he himself, existing in his thinking, possesses. artistically, please note, for the secret does not consist in his enunciating the double-reflection directly, since such an enunciation is a direct contradiction.

ordinary communication between one human being and another is entirely immediate, because people ordinarily exist in immediacy. when one person sttes something and another acknowledges the same thing verbatim, they are assumed to be in agreement and to have understood each other. yet because the one making the statement is unware of the duplexity (dobbelthed) of thought-existence, he is also unable to be aware of the double-reflection of communication. therefore, he has no intimation that this kind of agreement can be the greatest misunderstanding and naturally has no intimation that, just as the subjective existing thinker has set himself free by the duplexity, so the secret of communication specifically hinges on setting the other free, and for that very reason he must not communicate himself directly; indeed, it is even irreligious to do so. this latter applies in proportion to the essentiality of the subjective and consequently applies first and foremost within the religious domain, that is, if the communicator is not god himself or does not presume to appeal to the miraculous authority of an apostle but is just a human being and also cares to have meaning in what he says and what he does.

objective thinking is completely indifferent to subjectivity and thereby to inwardness and appropriation; its communication is therefore direct. it is obvious that it does not therefore have to be easy. but it is direct, it does not have the illusiveness and the art of double-reflection. it does not have that god-fearing and humane soliciude of subjective thinking in communicating itself; it can be understood directly; it can be reeled off. objective thinking is therefore aware only of itself and is therefore no communication, at least no artistic communication, inasmuch as it would always be required to think of the receiver and to pay attention to the form of communication in relation to the receiver's misunderstanding. objective thinking is, like most people, so fervently kind and communicative; it communicates right away and at most resorts to assurances about its truth, to recommendations and promises about how all people someday will accept this truth - so sure is it. or perhaps rather so unsure, because the assurances are recommendations are the promises, which are indeed for the sake of those others who are supposed to accept this truth, might also be for the sake of the teacher, who needs the security and dependability of a majority vote. if his contemporaries deny him this, he will draw on posterity - so sure is he. this security has something in common with the independence that, independent of the world, needs the world as witness to one's independenceso as to be certain of being independent.

ˣ double-reflection is already implicit in the ideas of communication itself: that the subjective individual (why by inwardness wants to express the life of the eternal, in which all sociality and all companionship are inconceivable because the existence-category, movement, is inconceivable here, and hence essential communication is also inconceivable because everyone must be assumed to possess everything essentially), existing in the isolation of inwardness, wants to communicate himself, consequently that he simultaneously wants to keep his thinking in the inwardness of his subjective existence and yet wants to communicate himself. it is not possible (except for thoughtlessness, for which ll things are indeed possible) for this contradiction to become manifest in a direct form. - it is not so difficult, however, to understand that a subject existing in this way may want to communicate himself. a person in love, for instance, to whom his ****** love is his very inwardness, may well want to communicate himself, but not directly, just because the inwardness of ****** love is the main thing for him. essentially occupied with continually acquiring the inwardness of ****** love, he has no result and is never finished, but he may nevertheless want to communicate; yet for that very reason he can never use a direct form, since that presupposes results and completion. so it is also in a god-relationship. just because he himself is continually in the process of becoming in an inward direction, that is, in inwardness, he can never communicate himself directly, since the movement is here the very opposite. direct communication requires certainty, but certainty is impossible for a person in the process of becoming, and it is indeed a deception. thus, to employ an ****** relationship, if a maiden in love yearns for the wedding day because this would give her assured certainty, if she wanted to make herself comfortable in legal security as a spouse, if she preferred marital yawning to maidenly yearning, then the man would rightfully deplore her unfaithfulness, although she indeed did not love anyone else, because she would have lost the idea and actually did not love him. and this, after all, is the essential unfaithfulness in an ****** relationship, the incidental unfaithfulness is to love someone else.

as a side-note... these impossible, to my mind:
imaginary "problems"...
say, for example...
the racist... the non-racist... and the... anti-racist...
do i use racial slurs, sure, but i always tend
to "translate" them to by implicitly urban scenario
tokens... i'm a "******" if i don't get on time,
i'm supposed to work for free...
i think of racism along the lines...
well... you, know... that Pakistani grooming
gang in Rotherham...
it doesn't affect me personally,
i'm a bachelor, i don't have a daughter...
but... even on my level, since i'm so far away
from the issue... i start to get affected...
**** is the lowest of the low...
i once ****** a *******... all giggly and drunk
at first... but then... she started crying during *******...
a burn-out moment on her behalf...
i had to stop... o.k. you're selling yourself... willingly...
but... i'm not going to... whatever...
if she might have claimed p.t.s.d.
i could also claim the same...

*** is ugly... just before perching myself on the windowsill
once the night arrived...
i heard a voice in the darkness... thanking me...
at the end of my garden... i wasn't exactly listening:
i never listen... but these words of: thank you
sort of penetrated me...
where is the supposed "Ummah"
when it comes to the Uyghurs?!
the fond fellows of Arabia... would rather send
their suicide virgins to the western land
with prospect of conquest, with prospect of seeking
our proselytes... than...
keep their Ummah intact... do the Arabs really think
that their Chinese believers are...
worth so little to them?
           where are the attacks on China?!
eh... Pakistani uncle said grandma
then decided to **** some cousin...
  sorry... low... hanging... fruit...
   i need a drink...
                            
        i can understand racism... esp. given the attempt
at a multicultural society...
i rather think of myself as a non-racist...
****** a black girl, ****** a Thai girl...
****** an Indian girl...
but... this... white, female, anti-racism stance?
i don't get it... daddy issues?
they must be daddy issues... parental issues...
you have to purposively make yourself anti-racist...
affirmative action buzzwords...
you can never be: the highest pinnacle of negation:
not-racist... you have to be actively: anti-racist...
you can never be passively: non-racist...
you have to... do... "x, y & z"...

these words shouldn't even see the light of day...
so much *******...
all of it... crass...
as much as the Brazil-Project of interracial
new-Arab interbreeding sounds great...
newly tanned "Spaniards"... "Arabs"...
"Indians"... if you've ever visited Kenya...
i remember being approached by these three gorgeous
Kenyan girls working the pandering circuit...
black skin glistening in the moonlight...
as if someone rubbed them with butter...
plump... one of the local Kenyan boys asked whether
i'd like to visit a local bar... i declined...
i forgot myself... took to the hammock...
slept the whole night in the open...
some ****** stole my cognac while i was asleep...
me? we best interact...
but... interracial breeding sort of disrespects...
the seeming aeons of... what allowed black people
to be black... what allowed white people to be
white...
it's no good, like... black girls are not angry
when the white girls are giving up so much ***
to their male counterparts?

if i'm supposed to "think" about race... sure... i'll give
it a short shot... because i'm expected...
i have a furry river and.. by now:
i'm more res vanus than res cogitans...
i don't think i need to think on the basis of
narration... i'll just be reactionary...
not because it's easier... it just seems rather...
necessary...

anti-racist: tropes! they are just that... people try
so hard to not-be... X... that they almost forget that...
they are X... because they are compensating for
the environment they were brought up in...
daddy's sins... mother's opinions...
by now a racist is better suited for conversation
than an anti-racist... who the ****** bleached "us"?
it's like: i can't the difference between people...
like... Somalis don't look more ancient than the rest
of the Africans?! maybe i should find more Ethiopians...

i sometimes think of "existing" in a way that...
elevates the posit of: exiting...
sure... cogito, ergo... blah blah...
but that's not enough... to exist is also readying
yourself to exit... existing is a pseudo-continuum
of rented... time, body... in order to...
make the banal finalities of / for an exit...

Satan is on the hunt;
And a man peccant.
Treading path of sufism;
Man nescient, ignorant.

First learn the shariah;
And then tread this path.
Or else you'll be a loser,
On you Allah's wrath.

Satan will bridle your nose;
And put reins in your mouth.
Drag you wherever he likes
East, west, north or south.

A true Sufi is righteous;
And follows the prophet(SAW)
A false Sufi goes astray;
And is satan's puppet.

From Muslim to seek God in all religions
to Sufism and spirituality to mysticism
to become a Goddess Worshiper

christianity is, in part,
                               ontologically based, to behave like
hinduism...              
   in that its root is a polytheism,
focusing on              
              the opposite of a theology,
  or its particularness...  
                 it's poly-schismatic.
catholicism can lie all it wants away,
but the fact is simple:
  christianity was based upon a focus
of an impeding schism...
   so i can't see a way out of
shouting:        shotgun!
              as you rarely do, take the seat
in a non-black-cabbie next to the driver...
since there isn't one...
                  add to it an innumerable
cohort of saints... and you're done...
at least islam is "schizophrenic",
in that the schism took to representing
two factions of belief systems...
    me? if i were muslim?
                 ****'a(h) islam... all the way...
christianity just has a messiah complex
imbedded in it... and therefore it has
so many splinters (schisms) waiting for it,
to be reduced to.
               orthodox, catholic, protestant,
and then all the -isms...
luthernism, calvinism, baptism -ism- -ists...
   em, second day adventists?
            it's like darwinism in a theological sense:
look! look at all the theo-diversity!
     only now, would you associate
the (g)nostic movement in islam (sufism)
with ****'a(h) islam...
but come on! how can you make poetry
     a capitalist "thing"?
     you can't compete when writing poetry...
you can't compete on an universal basis for
a uniform stance of "incompetent" expression...
   that **** ain't happening...
      i feel with my intensity, and with my intensity alone...
you can't compete with what you feel,
and then scribble down...
       the **** is this "comprehension" / realisation?
poetry is not some potato-sack / egg on a spoon race!
  in terms of language...
     english has already won the culture war...
  but chinese, or hindi, as written in sanskrit?
   well... that's won the existential war...
   a billion here... and a billion over there...
       mind you, i'll repeat myself...
the polytheistic aspect of christianity is that
christianity has a tendency to agitate schisms;
it's really a religion of the obelus (÷),
or as some might suggest: the obelisk of washington d.c.
thank **** it wasn't a giant **** of
masonry, with only one / two rooms in it.
the ****** religion just implodes,
   and schizophrenics itself into a poly-diadem
that then tries to resolve some primitive geometric
form (square, triangle, a straight line, a dot)
   of "respectability";
but reducing the tetragrammaton (yhwh) into a
   dangling piece of metal, i.e. a † (crux)?
                           that! that's truly barbaric!

i don't really have a life that is worthy of being prescribed:
keeping up appearances... brute talk isn't exactly brute action,
which is why Aristotle survived
in the influential sphere up to the Middle
Ages... culminating in what
lacking in dialectics enabled us to be:
pets of social facts, regurgitation apostles
of Beelzebub... oh wait... should
i only use "sensible" words to plagiarise
the serenity of an English landscape?
well, the Normans surely did,
serenity of the Domesday Book...
i'm investing... the day when your little
Colonial subjects become nothing to us...
the day when they realise your little trick
to have the Rolling Stones and the Beatles
will be erased on the word: snap!
you can have you little white-on-white
moment now, you can even subscribe the Irish
for your cause... please, have a moment...
i'm in need of entertainment -
i need something to amuse me...
i'd be bored if i didn't start to feed off ridicule...
once i was offended by it, hated it,
now i feed off it, soothing words, aren't
they, replacing the high-society philosophers'
master (host) with parasite (slave) -
meaning the master does all the work,
which is what your people became: nanny nanny!
i cut my finger! nanny nanny! i ******* my underwear!
good, you little ******... and they said
familial ties were never better...
try exporting western values into Syria...
what do you get back? a beheading... ha ha.
look at yourselves... this tendency to keep
lying and keeping sausages is just bearable...
if i were a Muslim? sign me up to Shia Islam...
and what that gave: Sufism...
if i were a Muslim i'd be in the Shia faction...
cos they like a bit of drink and a bit of poetry, oi oi!
nudge nudge: do a Houdini with a woodpecker.
honest to god, you're breeding them...
you're breeding the providers of this nation
with an adamant hatred bitterer than those
you once colonised, you're breeding a slaughterhouse
of egoism... never mind the battle of Britain
and the polish fighters defeding this jolly gooey land...
they have already tasted the seed, now
they're burrowing... your little, ahem, "special"
relationship with America has gone, a bit sour,
hasn't it? i love deniers more than blatant liars...
wait... 2066... that's what? **** me! 50 years from now...
well... given Darwinism that's about as much as
a sneeze of waiting time...
it'll soon turn into: where's the Empire? where's the
Empire? i swear you sent criminals to Australia,
and i swear you'll get ****** over while
America tries to reinvent itself... but it won't...
i'll get sequels of movies that should have ended with
the first one... i'll great brain damaged every time
i try to switch on the t.v.,
but fair enough: hotel Transylvania 2 was funny...
but it just shows me how un-expressive humanity
became... oh right... milton jones is funny
with the twitchy eyebrows... is he? i don't know;
what i do know is that every time i listen to the radio
i press the rewind button when the grand
opportunity comes... then i'm like: d'uh...
mmnnn (some sort of chin expression): window-licker!
how did i find the comic's name? google:
comic with long hair and Hawaiian shirt...
that's how i remembered him... i'm too young to
get the Aristophanes treatment - why?
the civilised man said: but i'm wearing spectacles!
the barbarian just said: and i'm wearing knuckle-dusters,
what's your point? i'm picking plums,
i'll leave your gums invigorated by having no fewer than
two bony sycophants: cheese!
or unless i do grow old and frail, and the greatest
punch i'll ever throw will be a **** into my underwear
while i do a jacuzzi with it whenever i **** after
i ******* myself in a care home... hence the 1 billion Chinese
and Indians. or just like today, the supermarket cashier talks some
tribal tongue, i say: what language is that?
she says some name... then adds: i speak several
languages. then i think: aren't you supposed to
be a translator at the U.N. rather than a supermarket
cashier? i know that life's cruel, but this is just
insanity. well, we'll know by 2066 whether i was wrong
or whether i was just imagining things.

.so... watcha drinking? lemonade. are you sure? ok ok, "lemonade", or what i like to call vintage apple cider; but it might as well be "lemonade": on this fine, fine English autumn's day, dreary and disgusting like a wet dog - a wet Irish wolfhound.

oh sure, Islam is spreading in Western Europe,
back East, Catholicism is cited to be
one of the major players in bringing down
Communism...
        rumors about how John Paul II and
Ronald Reagen colluded...
                  so... Islam in the east...
   what with the rich history of interacting
with the Ottoman Turks at the siege of Vienna...
a shared past it seems,
on the warring side of things...
     translates as mutual respect in the current
year...
         but i'm not bothered about the current
year,
            i couldn't convert even if i wanted to...
the emergence of the nag hammadi library
is already too problematic for me...
   the new testament, is, for me,
       a pre Byzantine propaganda text...
add to that the history written by
                             Josephus ben Mathias...
the story of the flight to Egypt by
Joe and Marie Sue...
               and the detail about an Egyptian
false prophet attempting to seize Jerusalem
by force... from the Mount of olives...
etc. etc.,
                     but i've had Muslim friends
in the past, one a (Muhammad) Salman Khan...
and i don't know why i've recounted
out friendship from our days at school...
oh... right... dates.
   - but not just any dates....
not the sickly sweet European variety...
Persian dates... fresh dates...
                   i remember breaking fast with
him in the easier, Winter example of Ramadam,
in a post-school extra-curriculum Statistics
class...
                    Muslims tend to break
their fasting by eating dates...
              i can't believe that a reminder of
the taste...
   funny thing is... who would have
thought that in a market town like
Romford, on the river Rom...
                      you can buy a packet
of dates... Persian dates...
that also read: product of IRAN...
                 Tehran, Iran,
                     and...
it's a Mazafati date... so watch it, yeah?
   email: hamid.javaheri@pol.ir
     tel: +98 (21) 77642527-8...
which brings to mind...
    i always thought that Islam was
far more sensible, the further east you
went... or rather, that...
there have been no... ****'ite attacks in Europe,
only the ****** authoritarian Sunnis...
plus... we're talking Persia...
where were the Arabs when the Persians
reigned supreme?
  scuttling along desert routes
of their ****** peninsula looking for
water among them tripping from dehydration
hallucinating fata morganas...
then again... why should i be surprised...
after all... religious doctrine is one thing...
but for the Persians... eh, **** it...
let's settle for something variant,
loose canon... Sufism...
                                  and there you have
your moderate, universal aspect of Islam...
a... shared longing...
  for something none of us can clearly
articulate, other than through bogus poetry
and mysticism.

as written, by a non-convert, but rather by a fervent observer, outsider.

if ever a belief -
namely a firm grasp of emotions,
and in that: against
frivolous ambitions
      and flag-on-a-pole sways
to the four winds:
or as in islam -
   to listen (takbir)
to obstruct ******
urges (thoughts,
in the process of prayer)
          (al-qiyyam) -
to shower respect and
in that: also odes
  akin to the sufism (ruku)
evidently the more extreme
version of the japanese
"handshake" -
to then blessing one's
abode, i.e. the earth
       (sujud) -
and lastly: to be tutored
   (julus*) -
                and isn't that a mighty
fine pentagram of
      the loss of the four senses
and the remaining one.
in evolutionary terms?
  to me, god is a being
that evolves by becoming
more and more non-existent -
the shrinking forever,
or a needle's puncture into
"reality" -
               what with
man's hustle & bustle
  of skyscrapers, cars and
      peanut butter.

p.s. as the title implies:
ruku (90°) vs. eshaku (15°) vs.
keirei (30°) vs. sai-kerei (45°);
next thing you know,
  i'll be doing the 1-80(°)
   and talking into my ***.

title: workout
body: roundabout dot, dough 2.   502 bypass

i only woke up at 2pm, even though i had snippets
of consciousness by 10am...
11am... i was in and out of sleep: my dream was yesterday,
i slouched home at 3am...
finished the shift at Fulham at the exact timing
of 10:15pm... all my coworkers stood me up...
apparently i didn't follow instructions
but in the back of my mind was the motto:
safety, security, service... if two elder gentlemen
came up to me with concerns over why one
of the gates in the park was closed...
that there might be a stampede when people
were leaving... what was i going to do or rather
not do? not stand by the gates and not direct
people? luckily all went smoothly...
so what if the supervisor had to wait ten minutes
more so that i might return my walky-talky
and my accreditation... people's safety is the priority...
some *******... but your other lesser supervisor
messaged you... no they didn't... only the upper supervisor
did when asking if there were any radios still
not returned to him... i have a witness...
this 19 year old Romanian kid i was working with...
the one who was sitting in a Turkish akimbo
on the bench next to me when we were taking
a break... the one i managed to sort out with a free
cheeseburger that would otherwise set him back
6 squid... anyways... i was getting paid to work until
10:15... so i don't see any issue...
grumpy old men and their: "leave ten minutes early"...
England... a nation of alcoholics and workaholics...
life's too short... i already promised myself this:
the money i earn will go to prostitutes...
i was tired but... i arrived at Goodmayes...
bought myself 35cl of brandy and a bottle of coca cola...
circled the brothel several times trying to relax...
hype myself up... finally walked in...
that's what i promised myself... i'll spend the money
i earn on prostitutes...
                        what else am i going to spend it on?
vinyl? there's only so much vinyl a man can own...
shoes? clothes? drugs?
well... brandy doesn't count...
                  sort of like buying water... for me at least...
10 quid at the entrance... but i asked the madam:
is she here? Khedira, Khadijah?
the Turkish girl? is she here?
    how many girls are there? two?
o.k. - what an impression i made in my work clothes...
long coat... she later touched it: oh, so soft...
almost like a mink...
                  tall, dark brown handsome devil...
she was there... how relieved i was to see her face...
when you're ready? right now...
i took the other girls hand and kissed in...
into the bedroom... mirrors... mirrors...
in her own tongue... which was constantly waggling
like a primitive life-form of its on volition
eagerly seeking light or in this case...
the phallus and my own tongue and lips...
look into the mirror as i **** you off:
the best sort of *****...
  ooh... murderer eyes...
                          güzel adam: her own words...
          we started off with her sitting in my lap...
after i took a shower to clean myself up...
took off her bra and her underwear...
    she was mine... for an hour she was mine...
at 35 i thought it odd that i would be trying
******* for the first time, i snorted a little
and told her: it has no affect on me...
  i prefer marijuana... i used to smoke a while...
what effect did it have on me?
a second became a minute and a minute became
an hour and an hour became a day...
tiredness... a sneaky symptom of a slightly limp
****... but what i wanted... she also wanted...
me standing on the edge of the bed
performing the doggy *** position...
  she didn't even mind me slapping her ***...
she even responded positively... pinching her...
biting her... of course i didn't ******...
but at the same time: she noted my care for hygiene...
she put a ****** on... later noticing my discomfort
she took it off: live dangerously she said...
yeah: unprotected *** with a *******...
seems like i have special privileges with her...
if i can have unprotected *** with her...
it's not like i was going to ******* into her...
oh... but such a body in my arms...
  i could throw pearls to pigs...
            i could sink a thousand ships containing
Mayan gold into the sea...
but this body in my arms...
                  i knelt in between our *******...
kneeling my head was aligned with her collar bone...
petite tender creature...
ol' raven haired Turkic countess...
              and such ****** contortions as i rammed her
changing pace from doggy
to her on her back with her feet on my shoulders...
tongue waggling: eagerly seeking a kiss...
so i ****** her tongue in between slobs of
the oysters and the clams of lips pursuing each other...
today i woke up... dazed... no confused...
just... relaxed... even though i didn't ******,
i told her... that's not important to me...
i like the mere act... the ****** doesn't bother me...
i can but i don't have to... look... i'm tired...
i just wanted to be with you...
i'm not going to wash myself after this hour...
i want to have your scent on my skin...
you married? no... well that's good...
i want to keep you for a while longer...
          then she proved the pinnacle of my success...
can i have your number?
sure... so you call me when you want to come...
and i'll tell you if i'm available...
so what's your actual name? Khedra...
inshallah...
                            at one point she did use that
phrase: already a scheme in her mind...
            güzel adam - inshallah...
                          my thoughts exactly... there might as well
be a third branch of Islam...
not the one associated with the Arabs the Sunnis
or the Persians - the ****'ahs...
but one more... associated with the Turks exclusively...
i'd love to see a third branch of Islam emerge...
it has to splinter further...
if it truly was the one true religion:
there would be no schism... oddly enough the schism
arrived so early... maybe a second schism would
do the religion some good... the Turks could take
charge of this second schism...
really charge it along the lines of
                                  Sufism *** Gnosticism...
at 2am after i left around 1am she sent me her picture...
honestly? she looks better in real life...
much younger... animated...
some people are just not photogenic...
they need to be contort prone...
they are not supposed to be frozen... in a photograph...
being *** starved, intimacy starved...
no wonder i feel so relaxed today...
then again: if i had this sort of intimacy somewhat
permanently, i'd take it for granted...
i like the idea that i have periods of the cold dark...
of inanimate objects growing ears and eyes...
whenever i come across another living creature
and interact with them sexually...
certain chemicals blah blah are produced and i relax...
again... the act itself... how beautiful two bodies look
so entwined in the act... esp. if she tells you:
look in the mirror... look at us...
**** me... unprotected *** with a *******...
*******... just tells you how bad things are
on the dating market in the West...
prostitutes have better barometers when it comes
to STDs than most women in the West...
then again: she is Turkish...
                      Khedra... no... **** dating... i tried that...
Jeminah burned me...
i had stomach cramps i thought was out of love...
no... just a premonition... this is going to go nowhere...
she's going to ******* up...
what, a, *******, waste, of, time: and good wine...
and a banana loaf...
no can do... i'd rather pay up front for intimacy than
weave some ******* courtship past-time of
going on dates, for dinner...
i'd rather cough up £120 upfront and get what i want
than ******* enter some sexless limbo land
of ginger goats and blue sheep... count count...
n'ah ah... fall asleep?
        i'm not even going to bother thinking about
Western women... **** that...
Oriental? nope... Asiatic "proper" i.e. Indian or Pakistani
or Arab? nope...
Turkish... we come from the same womb of
the Caucasian sort... we're steppe people...
formerly known as... why, *******, bother?
i don't need a headache... i want an *** to slap... a neck
to bite...
    oh she burned me... sure... she might have had
hundreds of "customers"... but i hardly think any of them
looked into her eyes with such passion...
i told her: ******* has had no effect on me...
i'm here for you and you alone...
now i have her number... maybe we can get at it
outside the brothel...
well i must be doing something right, right?
all the women at work are school-girls... stunted
psychological growth... they're petty gremlins...
ugly souls... ****-able after a few drinks and if they
tarted themselves a bit more...
but... ugly... bog souls...
                    petty critters... backstabbing ghoulish
soap-opera drama queens...
i had to learn the tactic of veneer...
acting... politeness... superficiality... it's brain-dead-numbing...
but if that's what's supposed to be...
so be it...
as the zeitgeist narrative of the West goes
in terms of ****** dynamics: white women hating
themselves for a past that has endowed them with...
all that interracial *******...
breeding out a neu-Bra-tsil... well...
hmm... i have an idea of my own... i'm not going down
the narrative... chances of me meeting a girl of
my own ethnic synonym: "missing"...
better with prostitutes than with girls who are
merely looking for a meal-ticket...
Heidegger: ponderings XI - aphorism  50...
"westliche demokratien"... written circa 1939...
resounds more true than anything i have yet
to read... reed...
my god... what intimacy can do to a man...
but better i don't get used to it...
when i'm starved of it and i encounter it...
i can throw my entire weight about...
i can go overboard... full: utterly full charm offensive...
mirrors *******... slapping the ***...
biting... pinching... kneeling before the altar
of a woman's body...
doo-doo eyed the next day, relaxed...
not taking anything for granted...
now i have her number...  eski kuzgun saçlar...
old raven hair... tatlı kiraz...
benim aşk...
                                    if that's how it's going to
go... i'm sure of it...
the Turks could branch off from the already
established Islam... they could revise it...
have their own version... become the bridging
positive force... of all the Islamic people...
the Turks i respect the most...

- tesekiur ederim qeanam...
- benim güzel kuzgun-saçlar

      welll... unlike the diacritical markers in French...
the cedilla in French: garçon... thatr's
a "secretive" version of the Greek sigma:
στιγμας...
  the variation between Turkish and Czech
is that the cedilla... is equivalent to the caron...
ergo?

                      Ç = Č ≠ S...

a raw challenge of words - not some tartar genius -
it's a "question" or not - and it's a roulette -
it's a gamble -
it's: words not roasted -
words not roasted in an oven of academia -
esp. oven roasted via a masters in arts:
english lit. or jane austen studies - majors -

i can't exfoliate just yet -
i have to catch the midnight train into tomorrow...
because - "something" needs to be tended
to - and i'm about to become
a very responsible nouveau adulte...
i have no time to talk about philosophy -
how i found the time to read it
is another matter -
but talking about it...
seems pointless if... not also weilding
a hammer - heidegger's:
can we talk while doing something else,
menial - and escape the banality of breathing
by on the side - supposing thought?

the crux of the hammer and the nail...
and this talk - or no talk - escapism of sorts...
the isolated words to be "thought" about...
"representation content" and...
what... "what": "reality" is made of...
a speaking that has to return back
into the yoke of thinking -
and not something as practical as...
hammering nails in... ad infinitum...

knock knock... who's there?
Descartes who? Descartes i doubt the table
but not the chair i'm sitting in;
ever knock knock on a leather chair?
there's no superstition of "jinx" associated...
or i could just as well be drinking...
my "thinking" is already
on the train about to leave: come midnight...

raw tartar steak of genius -
words not baked via an oven of an academic
degree in the direction of... modern linguo?
my way all the way back from:
esters RCOOR'
aldehydes RCHO...
carboxylic acid(s) R-COOH...
all that but above all this...

the austrians really do know how to
make the best coffee...
something a christoph waltz would say...
the austrians are (a)
the germans are (b) - high, low - whatever
floats your boat of comparison -
and i do only have an address and a name...

Der-Franz (Vienna since 1929)
A-2512 Oeynhausen
Sachers Strese 7...
hazelnut flavour... coffee...

hans landa eating a strudel -
is probably the best strudel in the world...
and on all days...
but this... it's also a hugo boss uniform...
it's crisp cut... and...
say all you will...
when a girl might wish for a cindarella dress...
any boy would wish for a hugo boss
that clean cut and readied
for: being ironed twice daily...

as of yet: i'm yet to expect a darwinistic
furore - fever - of the coming of
the close of the 19th century and
the opening of the gates for the 20th century...
second coming of darwinism leaves
me hardly convinced -
oh but it's true - oh but yes yes -
some of us are working in the knitting
of the kingdom of the Brine -

this so-called culture war:
words make bad bullets and sentences
are hardly rifles to shoot them with...
paragraphs like bombs: would do...
if congested into... non-paragraphs...
end of james joyce's ulysses or...
jean-paul sartre's iron in the soul...

the rare events of a postcard being sent by
a philatelist...
or a lepidopterist coming clean
on the metaphor of: the most forbidden fruit...
of which king john of england
would never find out about:
sooner the magna carta...

i'm tired of and i have always never tired of...
byzantine chants...
what can anyone actually remember
of the remains - apart from the chants...
or the bureucracy?
the youth that riddled them with canons
and a library that contained only one
book...

i can't even bother to stomach the correct
grammar -
unless it's a translation...
english: red herring...
french: hareng rouge
german: regenbogenforelle
you wouldn't expect me to succumb to
Ablenkungsmanöver / heimlich maneuver
of a spin-doctor, truly!
english: rainbow trout,
french: truite arc-en-ciel...
german is already given...
polish: pstrąg tęczowy...

nietzsche was right... we are the slavic
equivalent of the french...
we share most of their grammar 1-2 1-2...
why i didn't learn it proper?
they write one thing -
then say another -
i can only see excesses of letters
in written french... once they start
talking... all those letters come
and disappear under the suffix- umbrellas...

otherwise... i'm tired of having the need
to sharpen words -
words: would be bullets -
are not pencils -
sticks and stones and all things
associated with infering information:

otherwise just as last night - attempting to fall
to sleep: giggling and imagining myself...
having walked into the north sea off
the coast of norwich...
shouting: i'm a whale! i'm the beast from
the sea! i'm a whale my primordial
mammalian ancestor! i will swim to Denmark!

talk about living through a drought of:
where the english seems to be the dream-a-lots
having never felt a leash of metaphysics
around their necks tighten and give themselves
unto catholic mantras of central europe -
or how the italians are still christian in name only...
otherwise the go to:
aestheticians and romantics of the fig...

these words are not...
how did i perfect cooking chicken ******* without
the torso or the limbs -
the torso and at least half of the limbs
went into a most perfect chicken soup...
the remains and some frozen goods
went into a **** chicken marinade...
thyme... thyme... check y'er dubliners'
on the surd of H in that one...
it's θyme... otherwise's it's t'inking: time...
not so, paddy o'brian? patrick?

snail-paced grammar:
2 steps forward... 1 step back...
at least in the confines of this leftover:
catacombs of Latin...
we are all the children of Rome -
the hebrew were wrong about two alphabets...
the greek and the latin...
spot on! spot on when it came to...
persian cuneiform and egyptian hieroglyphs!

back-up... the glagolitic and the rune scripts...
somehow accomodating the overlords
of judea... otherwise: really stretching
the history for a personal experience...
what alphabet is this?!

- concept of beauty in the 1950s:
none other than the bleach mingling with amber
that was marylin monroe - the blood of which:
and the modern "beauty?
ava lauren - otherwise i call it:
the mandible jaw of ***-appeal gymnastics -
leather beauty - some worn, torn and -
the jigsaw puzzle that comes naked and
there hardly a kennedy romance at stake...
because even in her mature years -
it's "something" that would appeal
to Rodin's hands...
it's already... it leaves me at ease to ****
like a shotgun into my one "crooked" leg folded
and hunched like a crow perched on a windowsill
of the new-born Papillon -
marylin the icon? untouchable...
ava lauren the limbo montage and:

even this poo'em is proof:
why lament the crux of a would-be Liszt performance?
"views"... if that's anything to go by:
i have an *** and a ****** -
implies... i have more than a head a spine to prop
it on and a tongue's worth of an oyster
dissected between the 32 shells...

that views should count: a fountain of youth!
of a body i am certain...
of a soul: i know what i have -
only after i have lost it -
shared company - rejoice soul! hell doesn't exist!
as they call say: via their slavic proverbs:
the devil is without a soul...

perhaps i'm asking:
are not some of my words infantile?
d(evil) and go(o)d?
do or do not...
come to think of it... what makes people
invite the ****** eye into their ****** *******?
to boast or gloat?
i hardly think so...
from the times i watched...
and from the times i was the protagonist 1st person...
sometimes the third person attitude
is... well... imagine being in a 69 position
of reciprocating each other ******* & "*******"...
faber & faber...

if you have a ******* **** in your face...
and you're slurping and slurping...
what out of body experience can you expect
to have... to really and you really
want to appreciate the face of a woman
pleasuring herself and somehow you
on the side...

bogus and boring the same old
*******...
in that cocoon of: under the bed-sheets...
like two foetuses *******
amphibian bode -
placenta erections and:
the place where no two mouths meet!
otherwise:
she rodeod to the point
of a complete tail turned coccyx erosion!

*** is ***... no need to bring grammar
into this "debate" with a bilingual "schizoid"...
otherwise: hello Chloe...
is Chloe ready for a circus?

for all the *** in the world...
it's never something appealing for the eyes...
it's numbing for the parts that
imitate ******* snipping...
and otherwise... it's always more fun
casually: in third-person...
very much akin to reading a book...

because this piece of writing will not topple
your below average amateur post
from the free-range harvest of:
and this one tested this *****...
and this one was showing off: how she can
still get frisky when pregnant...
and... this sore loser is hardly going to...
because...
the greater pleasure comes from music...
to me *** is a most:
dyssynchronyous act...

how some people still manage to focus on saying
something is beyond me...
i'm left with onomatopoeias...
half-wit compositions of somewhat consonant
leverages - somewhat vowel expansions
of breath...

never does god even into this brothel...
i show him the "niqab" and all that's visible
is either silence of the hebrew definite article: ha...
why would i somehow
fathom a god in forms? not words?
with a c.c.t.v. focus etc?

- ******* on the roses, eating the roots
and sniffing the ashes -
variations of the modern: fine and lean
cannibal... because none of this invokes
the mandarin: specialz elephant ivory
"herbalism"...
cos if beijing don't sniff it...
we'ez knot snifz it... woz!
n00b wording and "get some"...

ל... find me a F(ucking) in 'ebrew, levite!
kametz = no aleph or ayin...
chirek? "i"?
well... it's и in cyrillic... א in 'ebrew...
but the latter is: an A...
the other gay Adam to Ayin...
and: whenever jeffrey "napoleon dynomite" dahmer
went along...
hiding vowels... and two vowels
treated as consonants...
you'd have to be born in London,
Golders Green to keep up with
the Hasidi...
because wherever they go...
the quarter is followed up with a ghetto...
like a bayz payot caduceus... listening: sparrows
chirping!

would a myth of Eve the prozzie Lilith
even matter at this point?

it only comes down to: integrating
or keeping with the purity of the forbidden fruit
that isn't *******...
but... cousin *******!
i've seen how this old forbidden fruit looks like...
it slobbers... it doesn't speak...
it's wheeled around: it doesn't walk...
the old fruit of eden: ******* your mother,
******* your cousin...
because i know what the next forbidden fruit is...
the circa 16 year old...
but that doesn't invite genetic: non-chernobyll
"status teases"...

inbreed far enough so that no outsider
will ever want to meddle with the ****** politics
of: the first ever niqab ultra...
because the muslims were never:
but really were about... the power dynamic
played out in rumi's *******: sufism...
a tier up from: gentlemen! let's broaden our minds!
Lawrence! ***** in the air! adhan!
compensated by the christian *******
at the altar...
religious gesticulation toward proving
the existence of incubuses: a very feminine affair...
when the broomstick stops "working"...
and there's no sabbath to attend...
and high-tier french socialite society
moves to London...
and the Viennese patisserie was always better
than the Parisian yoke-riddled flat and custard
agitation prone...

i poke my head out of my whittle
hermit cave...
and oops is supposed to happen...

or... drink enough cider and a shot of whiskey
at the same time... and...
it's almost like you're part of
the baltic culture of eating... kashubian herrings...
or generally pickled herrings...

why the **** did Amon Goeth say...
casimir the great - so called -
told the jews they could come to Krakow -
well, even history says:
first they were jews...
later they were polaks...
or: no... they weren't polaks to begin with:
not with that history allows us to entertain...
likewise...
"they're" not h'americans...
israel seems to be...
somewhat of a safebet gamble...

if i heard that one palestinian had roots
in saudi arabia...
like all those "pakistanis" circa 2001 that
had roots in saudi arabia...

the subject - the **** -
the tender geopolitics in between -
the 7 year madness of nebuchadnezzar
that never made it into a ben-hur esque movie
****...
shame i say...

of course this will not reach a far greater audience...
ah... what am i missing?
a ****** - a plump *** - a decapitated madame tussauds
monsier de sade *** toy / would be barbie or
an otherwise ripe cucumber...

my agony: extending the *******
into a cusp of a bone hard hand...
rather natural -
not unless - the proper deal is associated...
me and my ******* and
the girls being circumcised...
well then...
that would almost be like me...
being james cook having just visited
the Easter Islands!

once a ***** habit...
     now a guilty pleasure...
                         i don't even think it's
about the taste coming back:
i could season just fine when i was
smoking 20 cigarettes a day...
it's not about that...
      when you're cycling and you're
not coughing up any phlegm...
and as you start breathing... it's like
you're breathing lactic acid and menthol
while walking in high altitudes...
i remember that sensation...
    before i met my downfall and she "introduced"
me to cigarettes... since... she used to lace
the marijuana we smoked with probably
too much tobacco...
    i know: Garden of Eden deja-vu...
                 where's your mea culpa?! you might
rightfully ask...
and i'd reply... she was a huge metal
freak back then... probably still is...
          she even got those lip piercings done
like the lead singer from hed(PE) -
scabby lips... dreads trimmed...
she even chose a song for me... i was her
herr mannelig and she was the troll living
under the bridge...
    i had to persuade her to take those rings
out: the scabs were an issue
but not a blatant issue (yeah, right...
every now and then rushing into the bathroom
to scrub my mouth...
would i go as far as dipping my lips
in some bleach? probably)
   i just told her... hard to kiss with three rings
in your lips...
i think she was hitting rock bottom...
so she had to convince herself that even
at her most unappealing... she could still
swing by a man's house and some love
and obviously if she kept her ***-antics intact...
the guy would not mind...
by the time i turned up in St. Petersburg...
nice... girly hair... short... but i liked short
anyway: since i had long hair at the time...
and she would be wearing make-up...
she would be cooking (i did all the cooking
in Edinburgh) - and she would wear this amazing
summer-time dress...
while i was wearing all linen: trousers, shirts...
brown leather sandals...

    regrets?! yeah... i wish i told that *****
to get out of my house in Edinburgh sooner!
before she dangled that carrot of visiting Russia...
if i only threw her back out of my privately rented
apartment on Montague St.
back into her student accommodation...
back into her cess-pit of Cow-Gate drag-queens
and hybrid-goths... i would have been so relieved...

well... this is not the first time i'm "kicking" the "habbit"
of smoking cigarettes...
i've done it already...
   but since my grandfather's... sorry: my best friend's
death... i sort of started the choo-choo train
once again... but i recently figured...
can't just let this June cold onslaught not be used...
my throat was killing me...
i can't smoke... well then...
              but... but... it's not fun if you just let go
of smoking...
i already mentioned:
what was once a ***** habit has now become
a guilty pleasure...

or like me studying the incel phenomenon...
studying: yeah, "studying" - i'm sort of testing the grounds...
dating apps are out of the question...
what prompted me?
last time i was in the brothel
and waiting for Khedira i started to this one
lucky Irish lad with a name that sounded feminine...
jacked-up with a bottle of laughing
gas and a balloon...

   yeah... i'd say so too... hard to place my accent...
the English are father suspicious of my accent...
and that too: depends where...
but ask an Irishman and he'll think he's talking
to an undercover journalist...
that's the aura i give... some Oxbridge ****....
but not exfoliating in your atypical class
hierarchies blah blah...

well... incels... should we mention Christine Chubbuck?
and the urban myth of: you know what
happens to a cockroach that is decapitated?
it dies of starvation two weeks later...
i swear this urban myth comes from the execution
of andrei chikatilo...
i never get bored of this quote from Bane
in the Batman movies...

'well: perhaps he's wondering why someone would: shot a man!
before throwing him outside of a plane???'
that's me... with the execution of the Ukrainian
serial killer... why would you drag someone
into a cell and shoot them in the back of the head?

anyone see the movie about Christine's suicide...
oh... when a woman does it... it's a cautionary tale...
but when a man does it: it's somehow "immediate":
the death: the bullet in the head...
Kafka: for ****'s sake... foretold!
aim at, the, *******, heart, like, you're, a vampire...

because sure... sure... and who isn't brain dead
at the best of times?! zombie ******* lovers...
idiotic trespassers of traffic... ******* ninjas!
making bad parking decisions stretching from Ilford
through to Stratford...

i'm sorry... what were we... talking about?
quitting smoking... me... i like...
this return to my teenage self...
when i wasn't interested in smoking anything...
just drinking... ah... this old taste of alcohol...
it's like sherbert pop-pop-pops!
  hmm mmm...

                yeah... i'm sort of worried...
thank god i don't have any children...
so she tells me she loves me after i returned
oral *** favours on her... listen... my tongue was
probably the 2nd tongue that ventured that far
while i'm not even going to imagine a tally...
deer... female deer? doe(s): does?! doe...
it's not: d'AZ... English... pretentious language...
keen on spelling one way...
speaking another... no wonder dyslexia is
so rampant in your people...
"my" people just have a terrible orthography...
i'm sorry... Charles Dickens  an ******* with
that elevated term for a spelling term...
notably?
morze "vs." może (a sea... vs. maybe) -
you can discount the worth of dots above
i and j immediately... **** it... revise the language...
drop those hovering dots... it's not like you
use any diacritical markers of: proper distinction...

well then... hmm... incels...
i was all for categorising them as terrorists...
why? are actual terrorists treated like... zombified
psychiatric big pharmacological zombie-inverted-thought:
no thought experiments?!
i think i argued the right point...
i've been on a rainbow of medications...
i gained around 50kg from one string...
well... roughly... i was a colt...
i used to weigh circa 72kg...
    came up to 120kg...
                         oh now i'm drinking excessive...
i need the momentum...
and i believe most of them...
you're a terrorist...
                   that's your ******* card...
"your": their...
                       who the hell wasn't to spend the rest
of their... constipated: interrogated by iron
bars of a "life" doubly subdued by
having no access to their mind?
  
   it's my inherent Slavic distrust of the: science...
ah ha ha ha... "science": the art of psychiatry...
the art of? creating monsters...
            the only "science" that... cuts corners with
the employment of pharmacological pinks and violets!
thankfully in England a psychologist can't
prescribe you any drugs...
but... psychiatrists reverse that boundary by
prescribing you all the sweets... but no conversation...
get the idea?

it's not fair that frustrated white boys
are deemed mad while all the terrorists are these *******
grand architectural logisticians of the exploration
of Islam into the decaying mind of the West!
well **** me! bring me more eggs!
let's make this omelette the size of an al fresco sized
paella!

maybe that's what's bothering me...
but i'm not bothered... i've went through it all...
at least that's how you test your sanity against
the backdrop of women...
you go to a *******... 3 / 4 times...
you escalate each time...
one hour... half an hour...
first three encounters you feel selfish and make
her give pleasure to you...
by the 4th time... i'm tired of watching you
give me a blow-job while we look at each
other in the mirrors...
so... from a *******
to slurping on a bucket out oysters of ****...
wow!
        at no extra cost?!
well then... bilingual that i am... let me just ask
my second tongue to come out...

i love you...
    waiting for two days... getting "sick": the clarity of
transaction ... i knew it was coming...
i was gearing up to it...
i was going to have two days and two nights
of cold-turkey...
i was going to subdue my drinking...
and i was going to quit smoking...
          
                     today's tonne of sand was a grand
exercise... i even had to take a break
to sweat off the sweat i was sweating
from carrying the nibbles of the tonne from
the access road into the garden to even up the down
*****... by cycling...

personally... i just wish some of these guys
could have reached out to some ****-wit
of a mentor... i re-watched Good Will Hunting today:
wow... only men could write such *******
about women... it's like: it almost felt like...
reading Madame Bovary wasn't a waste of time...
it's like... the only book every written by a woman
about women: wasn't written about  woman
after all... but by a disambiguation of Darwin (ism & co.)

so no mystery left... the nunnery project
of man's former investment... fizzy: into the ever
thinning air...
but if the walking ****** are to be imported
from Africa... can i import walking trouser pockets
from Asia?!
i could probably fit two in my suitcase...
unwrap them with some LEGO gravitas...
good as new...

             no... i think this goes deeper...
the freaky girl freaked! maybe! ooh! she found one of
my profiles on the internet...

it's troublesome though: but at least
these either best get shot: dead...
or don't plea the: i'm white therefore i'm insane...
no! you're a terrorist, mate!
you don't need some extra pharmacological cocktails
in your diet... i ingested those...
and i was apparently the one allowed
to safely walk the streets of this society
i watched crumbled circa 2007...
i still think the genesis 2007 and my own personal
memory are the best two movies in town...
ah ha... ha ha...

it's ******* snowballs and snowmen!
and it was only until i was 35 that i first tried
******* and i was left unimpressed...
since?! i managed to balance the intake of caffeine
with nicotine and ethanol...
the higher tier drugs disappoint...
                                 time... longing... hmm...

let me reiterate in another way...
put on the following song...
TERMINAL SERIOUS - GIFT FOR YOU...
and then start looking for
Walter Sickert's: Off to the Pub (1912)...
i do own the glossy art-book: i attended
the exhibition...
now tell me... the archetypical study
of the: hiding the Greek intellectual genius
coupled with older men ******* young boys?
well... terrible... the girls might be involved....

oh right! right! hello Freddy... Mc'fckn'Kruger...
really? that bad?
it's like watching a circus with have lemonade stashed
in plastic bags... your grandfather leaving you
with an umbrella in a circus freak show...
somewhat calm...

i hate commuting through Warsaw... i'm always
on edge... i always feel like needing to bite into someone's
aorta... and leave them to bleed out...
but once in London i sort of calm down...
i love the efficiency of London traffic...
     i'm a spider and London is my spider-web...
although... i'm jokingly arachnophobic....
what could cure me?
a girlfriend who'd want to own a tarantula....

so much for a girl that loves snakes...
a girl that loves lizards...
but she still doesn't love spiders...
what?!
              i want to cure my idiotic phobia
of spiders... somehow... i'm supposed
to find some godly Lilith with a snake
wrapped around her neck?
how about less the apple: how about
you hold a spider in your hand...
and let it crawl onto my shoulder and whisper...
what the crows did wrong...

because... after a while...
it's no longer about either truth or (lies)...
funny: how the English language disintegrates
from its casualness...
like so... good "and" evil... when people recite:
the definite article prefix of good...
pure evil? no?
    by now language disintegrates for me form
all conversational practicality...

the more imaginative lie is...
   the plagiarised scare of a reimagined lie...
that is not the frustrated truth...
which in jurisprudence is unlike an unshakeable
scientific fact...
man could celebrate science...
but it's "habit" of law... it's jurisprudence
is still a subjective-objective "shcizophrenic"
of nostalgia and will to reform...
         at least the study of history leaves one
able to write fictional historical novels...
what does law do? it fakes judgement...
it serves wrong judgement... when...
            ah ha...
   what a backward area of human "evolution"...
jurisprudence = paleontology...

   that's why i think that the supposed "mystery"
of "lawlessness" actually implies?
avoid the courts at all costs...
by then it's not a mystery... law is behind science...
as much as man tried to free himself
from the ******* subjectivity of hierarchies of
other men... exploring science...
nope! he still was dragged into the subjectivity
of jurisprudence... ahem... the "philosophy" of "law"...
the mystery of lawlessness?
  avoid making contact with your peers...
in a show-of-force...
   nostalgia passes... history estsblishes...

the mystery of lawlessness...
   what you live... with the ability to never entertain
a courts' summons for...
hmm... placebo-solipsism...
it's not a thought experiment...
it's an anti-thespian DE-MAND...
           the more cameo experiences you can
muster... oh really... the actor?
no longer need... the stage...
the rotten fruit an veg thrown at them?
well then... let's dig trenches... i'm good at waiting...
i don't need to be a lunatic reciting my
words on the street...
i'm good at waiting...
                    i'll wait... for what?! ah ha! beside death?!
my shadow... detaching itself from my body
and coming back with an extended index
telling me: follow "i"...

             oh, but now i'm ******* bored...
of this "exceptional" journalism, this false-safe mechanism
that spin-doctors used to rely on...
there was only one spin-doctor to my knowledge...
Alastair Campbell... that's before...
1990s England was sort of recognisable
before i was deported back to Slavic lands
and made my comeback in 1998...
what?! ooh... oh don't worry... i have my grievances
with England... but they're...
post-colonial grievances with England...
a bit like... John Inman / Michael Crawford...

well you never truly... know...
you need some dislodged limbs from time to time
to test your anti-racism propaganda...
don't you?
   does it? bulb... doesn't it? bulb...
then my sort of: lack of sympathy for Ukraine
because i don't give a **** learning from the past...
ah you know... tea-two-crumbs-a-penny...
if she's going to be the daughter of Michael... Owen...
******* toes off the readied off the plantation
gimmick...
hmm... looks like i'm peeping into Mongolian tribe
music...
   this... interracial... croack-load of ****...
it was once a cuck-hard-on that... disappeared
after a second ****...

            now i'm thinking: hmm...
9" proud... shame you can only fit 2" into her ****...
and about 1" into her mouth...
ha ha! better start find you a elephant ****'s worth
your type of "*******-egoic"... eh? heroism?!

this spells out  DANGER for me...
but what... do i know....
social engineering is more important
than actual engineering...
social engineering is a bit like...
once you build up a taste for psychiatry...
what?! talk?!
you're just going to prescribe me some
more medication to subdue my libido in
favour or a poor white girls... diabetic ****...
surprises?!

i like writing... what most people can't convert
their thinking into writing...
the whole idea of res vanus contra res cogitans...
the continuum ..
people spew ******* all the time...
no one thinks par insomnia...
beside intellect...
by mere principle of ad continuum...
any and each narrative can be exhausted...

Islam used to interest me...
Rumi... Sufism... Omar Khayyam...
Christianity used to interest me...
the Gnostic heretics...
after a while... find me a lion!
i'll start hunting for a yawn among the hyenas!
let's trade!
eh?! what do you mean what we're trading for?!
you find me a lion's growl...
i'll find you a hyenas' laughter...
we'll swap... by the concern of the crow's croak...
marbles... we'll swap marbles...

yes no yes no yes no: yes?! no?!
ah... the same...