Jul 2016
to live the most ordinary life and internalise
supra-human potential, this is what is intended in terms
of acquiring striving - to turn the tetragrammaton from
a noun into a verb - given the four parts,
we can excuse the rat maze of thought adding to 6
as a sense pseudo... it takes a loss of one sense
to identify and study the Tetra...
for me it was not feeling a woman touch my skin
for intimate suggestions -
but it takes a loss of one sense
to read into the tetragrammaton -
and this isn't some linguistic lesson -
you can have all the shrapnel you want,
utilising grammatical categorisation
to obstruct narratives into reaching for ideas
rather than nouns - for me the tetragrammaton
experience convinced me it was more a verb
than a noun - a way to do things - rather than
a way to be kept caged in an enclosure of nouns,
you said the tetragrammaton like you said pineapple,
nothing gratifying in that... 4 x 10 -
when modernised -
and i still have the postcard, opening reads
dear Matt, (if any1 is reading this the ur just sad).
it is almost 1 a.m..... my greatest fear (one of them)
is to pass a 'once upon a time good friend' on
the road and have 1 of those superficial conversations
u know?? take care - A. x x -
dated 2007, addressee Matt E.
11/2 new arthur's place
edinburgh
EH8 9TH...
you probably will... we either age to be superficial
or superstitious - it's a nice combo -
i still keep this postcard in hermann heße's steppenwolf,
i write this, methodological with my drinking
and typing away - i can walk into town and hear
the words: 'that's the devil',
i spotted your mother at the market a few months back,
she looked happy, well, simplified happiness:
contentment - i felt no inclination to talk,
just a fancied breeze of ****** recognition -
i'll thank you more for the handwriting than what you
wanted to say, handwriting suggested i could read
how you would read my body in Braille -
but of course the content matters -
i never replied, unless my memory is faking it,
but given the cognitive prompt on the canvas of memory,
i think meaning i doubt i replied to that postcard -
what i am certain of are those M.S.N. conversations after
homework - the time i wanted to take you to cinema
and you freaked out... i put so much effort
into reading Stendhal as a teenager i exchanged Linkin
Park's debut for the book at a tongue-tie in Trafalgar Sq.,
to no avail... i think i idealised women too much,
i left them without any practicality - left them impractical -
a bit like those prior-feminists left them to mind the house
sending them off to the front-line and football -
idealism makes choice'd isolation units impractical -
the ******* peddle-stool hierarchy -
my thinking made women impractical, which is a shame
to experience the rosy buds of the mundane everyday -
i wish i didn't make such ideals from women, blame my
childish mind at developing ******* by the comparison
of Don Juan - and what a perfect joke that is -
a working format: to idealise women leading to an idealisation
of life - well, whatever, i'm junk now - this ain't a
depressive adjective - what, from 70 odd kilograms to
over a hundred and ten? **** a mongoose -
i'm hellbent on simply writing, money or not money -
and if my human integrity is finally breached
and i have no passion left in me... i'll do a Zeno of Citium...
and hold my breath.
supra-human potential, this is what is intended in terms
of acquiring striving - to turn the tetragrammaton from
a noun into a verb - given the four parts,
we can excuse the rat maze of thought adding to 6
as a sense pseudo... it takes a loss of one sense
to identify and study the Tetra...
for me it was not feeling a woman touch my skin
for intimate suggestions -
but it takes a loss of one sense
to read into the tetragrammaton -
and this isn't some linguistic lesson -
you can have all the shrapnel you want,
utilising grammatical categorisation
to obstruct narratives into reaching for ideas
rather than nouns - for me the tetragrammaton
experience convinced me it was more a verb
than a noun - a way to do things - rather than
a way to be kept caged in an enclosure of nouns,
you said the tetragrammaton like you said pineapple,
nothing gratifying in that... 4 x 10 -
when modernised -
and i still have the postcard, opening reads
dear Matt, (if any1 is reading this the ur just sad).
it is almost 1 a.m..... my greatest fear (one of them)
is to pass a 'once upon a time good friend' on
the road and have 1 of those superficial conversations
u know?? take care - A. x x -
dated 2007, addressee Matt E.
11/2 new arthur's place
edinburgh
EH8 9TH...
you probably will... we either age to be superficial
or superstitious - it's a nice combo -
i still keep this postcard in hermann heße's steppenwolf,
i write this, methodological with my drinking
and typing away - i can walk into town and hear
the words: 'that's the devil',
i spotted your mother at the market a few months back,
she looked happy, well, simplified happiness:
contentment - i felt no inclination to talk,
just a fancied breeze of ****** recognition -
i'll thank you more for the handwriting than what you
wanted to say, handwriting suggested i could read
how you would read my body in Braille -
but of course the content matters -
i never replied, unless my memory is faking it,
but given the cognitive prompt on the canvas of memory,
i think meaning i doubt i replied to that postcard -
what i am certain of are those M.S.N. conversations after
homework - the time i wanted to take you to cinema
and you freaked out... i put so much effort
into reading Stendhal as a teenager i exchanged Linkin
Park's debut for the book at a tongue-tie in Trafalgar Sq.,
to no avail... i think i idealised women too much,
i left them without any practicality - left them impractical -
a bit like those prior-feminists left them to mind the house
sending them off to the front-line and football -
idealism makes choice'd isolation units impractical -
the ******* peddle-stool hierarchy -
my thinking made women impractical, which is a shame
to experience the rosy buds of the mundane everyday -
i wish i didn't make such ideals from women, blame my
childish mind at developing ******* by the comparison
of Don Juan - and what a perfect joke that is -
a working format: to idealise women leading to an idealisation
of life - well, whatever, i'm junk now - this ain't a
depressive adjective - what, from 70 odd kilograms to
over a hundred and ten? **** a mongoose -
i'm hellbent on simply writing, money or not money -
and if my human integrity is finally breached
and i have no passion left in me... i'll do a Zeno of Citium...
and hold my breath.
