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Eintracht Frankurt came to London
and people asked me
whether i was a German
Andrews we talked
with Toby
in school about the bellybutton
and now i think he's my neighbor
and Pius about Ghana
and there was so much talk
of America
and going back to work i felt
relaxed
like i let things happens
and there were so many people
and no Noah in sight...
there were so few animals
willing to continue their existence
with us: humans
the cursed animals
so only the crows
as reminders
as pigeons as poems
as seagulls for the rallying cry of the Volk...
PRTAKTISCH VOLK
PRAKTISCH
i practice people
i see the child
and in that frame of art and mirror
the stature of marriage
among other males
is taggering... staggering...
it's either wine...
balsmaic vinegar
or any other vinegar
beer carried him off like a fizzy drink
and ***** and water align:
what other animals like
man without god or soul
is the lion in the zoo?
what is Witgenstein's Lion in Zoo
with Kneprick the Cat of Shroedinger
is a Lion in a Cage
in Man in Francis Bacon Portraits
of Freud-****** mannerisms
like combining **** with tobacco
is like Freud snorted *******
and ****** snorted amphetamines...
the ego crushing weight
of the self: in trip...
just in public: among people
Essex slang
when a vulnerable male
suckles up to you
Hammers in the Cockerels...
Hammer Cockerels...
Woolwich wankers
Arsenal are Millwall in disguise
while Tottenham are West Ham
in disguise...
Millwalls originates among the Scots:
the harvest of the Black Plague Industrialah
the Industrial Age
and the Black Plague:
move man into the society
i will shower you gold upon gold
so much till you arrive at FIAT
and where money is already
metaphysical: currency...
and there is so much talk of monkey
in money swimming for dog treatment
by cutting off the tail
for the dobberman
i didn't walk around the workplace
being all friendly and giving gestures
i was so Kauaian relaxed
i had my ***** at my side:
Reyla... coming into work...
like school with cages:
work is school: with cages...
work is school: school 2.0
work is work is school and school
oh dear
i just walked around
and looked at faces
and those that recognised me
and with who i had mutual esteem...
i said to Charles, Carlisle...
i got married...
when asked where i was for all of March...
where could a pauper security guard
go for a month
and i didn't own a yacht
but the love of my mother
and with wind to speak of
my father to guide me
and i can only find a brother
who is on the driftwood of the sea of time
with only the rivers in our mind
never able to be rivers
among the sea of time
against the crux of the grain of sand
he is not my son of god
my messiah
my one and only
he is my brother
who could dare to ask
to be his equal but never the original
but the ***** was fixed
and we waited
we knew
how this game was going to get played out
i lingered... slow... slowly...
speaking to old African Women
and in my dreams i dreamnt of the Baba Yaga
and i was just playing a game...
and i love the perfect happenstance magic
flicker.. of angelic wings...
i was asked: the glow of the marriage ring
he just sat down and i felt GAY
are you... sweeet? are you?
are you sweeet?
                         Essex into New York insertion
of "cool"...
            are you sweet?
the matter was resolved... i saw more patterns
of arrows...
brother O brother... what strange god
so corporeal and so cognition stealing
therefore if true:
wouldn't you want a mitigation...
of how emotions are reasoned with?
after all this is not about
the two dualisms within a dichotomy
or a dualism of two dichotomies:
i'm leaving behind the Use of Two Tongues
which: is... to be frank...
a bit different to what Philosophers Offer
in their realm of Monolingualism...

BILINGUALISM-SCHIZOPHRENIA:
i came into AUTISM month...
i think people think i'm autistic
but then i snap out of my autism
and i am too quick
a Tasmanian devil of tongues on Kauai...
let the choir sing
and that is heaven with god
but then there us in the democracy
of hell: that is within the realms of
purgatory...
and that also argues:
the synonymous hierarchies of heaven
when singing meets
with speaking...
and speaking comes from seeing
and seeing might come from words
and constellation of stars
and from there: came thoughts...
from the stars came thoughts
and not through our own cruel gods
let us go to the stars
but dreaming bigger
bigger than the people who dreamnt
actually making that first step...
let's work on the first step of man
on the moon...
and let's make more of those golgotha
magnets for the fridge
the best harem ande brothel
is my wife
and i get the dark project
for ego and the kantian noumenon
of the trinity in its most pure sense..
and the impure... less graphic...
    
three burger down man van
and i almost giggled a buddha from seeing
the chicken nuggets sink into his
giggles and gibberish that
i felt i might as well drink
a bottle of red
otherwise with you
i'd eat too much and drink some apple cider
vinegar to tobacco is tied to marijuana
now you tie apple cider vinegar to water
to *****
now let us visualise wine
the flowing feeling
yes but the first
step on the moon...
and where thoughts originate from:
the ordeal of the stars...
the invention of numbers
and trans-punctuation marks:

how to otherwise 1 + 1 = 2
and i: thought;
            this: for that: there:
i am: and: am not -
         such thoughts like trajectories
of keeping the cool
learning from Polynesia
but a Chronos in the Kitchen...
a terrible boss:
no chances in the kitchen
let's me know about my huspand
and how work happens
and how chill he is...
and she doesn't know how chill i am
at work... she thinks i'm not so cool
but her little girl i
think she thinks i'm cool
and i'm just being cool...
so cool off... please...

such epic demands:
like i must reread James Joyce's Ulysses
i don't know why i missed
the toilet scene...
i missed the toilet scene...
but i will have to sell me
my Dickens and Balzac
from the Victorian Era of Publishing
and Printing...
a bit like finding collectors
of Vinyl Liquirice...

     and there is so much jungle-flesh
and how i wish i was more
body and flesh
but i am: all mind and some octopus
i am not a fighter
i am a talker
and i'm o.k. with that
because my daughter
has good stock
of the dead father
like unlike the ***** bank
i am actually looking for a complete
psychological profile of a woman
that completely disregards her biological reality
and i choose the bioological reality
of the woman's voice...
as direct as mine in defence...
listen... no one is talking
about the 2nd ****** Birth
because that Implies...
the 2nd ******* Coming is No'Coming! M'un...
it.. ain't... *******... happening:
too much reality is
probably just enough reality
sorry
but Christianity is still the 2000 years
of feminism that
is finallyt being humble Satan
and exposing itself
Christianity is... deductively...
with Heidegger's hammer and...
well... hand-job...
    Christianity became Feminism:
thank you... the end...
Going off the handle?
Better to say, gone?
Broke the neck off the bottle,
When you were just trying to
Get the cork off?
Perhaps you twisted too hard,
Slow down & be gentle.
Love isn't a race,
It's a marathon.

A rhyme heard from when he was younger,
For there was a love perverted for the Greeks & Romans.
There was more, but I won't go on.
We’re getting on this streetcar
without our permission.
Deciding every single day,
not to get out, just to survive,
until the next stop, the next breath.

Let’s pretend to be naive,
when the absurdity of norms
pushes us to follow the one-way track.

Please, look around,
see through rose-colored glasses,
how beautiful it could be!
Everything would seem easier
and more tolerable.

In this magical place,
we once called wishful thinking,
all the stars spark at night,
the rainbow shines all day!

Why must we be so practical,
when stray pieces intertwine,
forming a cohesive and unique whole?

Passing silently, unnoticed,
in the city of unseen lines,
in the depth of our hearts,
we dream that this tale
could end happily.

We, all Passengers,
craving more space
spreading our wings,
we are trapped in small cages.

In the streetcar called
Bare Existence
until the last trip,
until the last call,
we wish only
to be unconditionally accepted.
My love was endless and my life was discrete.
In warm coffee joints and stable routines.
The dinner on Perk Ave, with pancakes and hot tea.
Now that's been forgotten, from history.
A lot has changed.
Now nothing means to me.

-Melanie Munoz
kingkrule
We can be strangers if you like
We can talk about the weather
Our silly plans for the weekend
Or how life has been kind to us
Trust me, I'm a terrific actor
You'll hardly be able to tell

We can be strangers if you like
Or at least we can pretend that
It doesn't shred us to pieces...
Have you ever come across friends and lovers that meant the world to you... and then had to act like they were mere acquaintances?
Never mind... hello there, stranger!
REPOST: written in Jan/25.
I’m finally going to get on that platform
on the 18th of next month,
for a first-time, one-time performance.
The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true,
which seems like a lot narratively.

It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out.
Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions.
We’re all caustically optimistic.

Although there’s a cellular-level pull to move on
we can’t help but feel a hesitancy to jump into our multifarious futures.
We’ve never been improvident.

In my personal pool of experience, when I feel alone,
friendless and unseen, this unintelligible fear noise arises
and I'm tempted to tap out. But I never have.
.
.
Songs for this:
walk but in a garden by LLusion
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/12/25:
multifarious = a great diversity or variety (diverse).
improvident = rash
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