there's some beyond any other experience,
as when walking home during
a thunderstorm...
    as a man, the capacity to think:
a god blinking via lightning,
   and then the heavy stomp of thunder
by man's treading feet...
    the tips of my fingers start tingling -
the rain pours down, ever so gently,
a state of euphoria is reached...
    mind you, i've started to think about
this, as spontaneously as a stroke of lightning...
come to think of it, avoiding the obvious
technological advancement between
my generation, and that of my grandfather:
stating the ****** obvious...
    it's not that... the eastern bloc was taught:
the east works just as well as the west,
only the latter doesn't really respect a work
ethos -
            it's always cutting corners,
                   making octagons from squares...
i mean, come on, 0 hour contracts?
              i've been shopping in the same supermarket
for the past year or so...
  you know, graveyards feel more alive...
at least you get graves blossoming,
with fresh flowers & candles...
       and how do supermarkets look like?
even the manager seems to be on a 0 hour
contract...
      to keep morality, he had to craft a solidarity
pact with his "minions" (shelf-stackers) -
and he chips in...
              but bound to the supermarket?
hardly see any men, the security guard is
sometimes a woman,
         women, everywhere, it's like a ***-orientated
genocide...
   oh, there are some guys there,
this one chap, i see, perhaps 1 day in a week...
it looks ****** tragic...
    once again: too much work these days
is content related, rather than context
related... context? people have to do something,
can't just turn into vegetables comatose...
grandfather has a metal-works charge hand,
grandmother worked in a sewing factory...
well, they seemed pretty content...
     the men at this supermarket? crushed;
then at this local co-op mini supermarket:
the cashiers? fear, fear in their eyes,
i've seen braver foxes rummaging in these streets
at night: i actually lied down next to one
and opened a can of beer...
  no kidding, can't be bothered bragging...
outrageous ******* laid next to me
and we were about 2 metres,
he took to scratching himself, i took to drinking
the night away...
  anyway... nietzsche suddenly comes up,
and something else...
you know what a communist party's member
house looks like?
   oh right, you weren't born in a communist
country, and lived for 8 years in
a post-communist transition country either...
(i'm looking around) -
well... it doesn't look that much different
to what i'm sitting in now...
   i'm used to "estate tower blocks" -
   ha ha, in england there's this real shame
in living in towers... over there it was scrambled
eggs for breakfast... i hate those stairs
(in english houses) - i forget something and it's
like: ****! up the stairs i go (again);
but it's not about that, it's what nietzsche
expressed, that: apollonian vs. dionysiac
dynamic...
                  well... it goes like this:
a communist household looks apollonian,
sharpening the mark? spartan.
       apollonian = spartan (excusing technological
advances)...
       and you used to have 3 shifts,
   you ate a lactose infused breakfast,
had dinner at lunch, and finished the day off
with a light nibble...
      ah, the days when you could wait
for milk to sour, and scoop it with a spoon,
like a thick yoghurt with warm tatties and dill...
those days... now everything is pasteurized
or whatever they do to the milk, and it doesn't
turn sour... just plain speak: stinks.
but that's it! communist households had
everything you might imagine,
  i think i'm still competing for the size of a private
library... although he has books for children,
so i discredit their respective addition
to the volume: since i don't have children...
but as i said: communist households
are spartan...
             the basic necessity, you want more?
******* to the forest and pick some wild
mushrooms. capitalist households? lavish...
sure... but they're also houses that
are either (a) not actually lived in with
the restaurant fetish & ready meals,
   or (b) about 19 unnecessary bathrooms later
and the fact: oops... no friends,
let alone neighbours; oops, once again;
this competitive mentality really erodes
certain unspoken values & principles...
     i'll compete with you for a cadillac,
             but a cameo moment in your life
outside buying something? very unlikely.
hence the athenian aspect of capitalism,
the dionysiac... lust & chaos...
           you know, i'm sure you haven't noticed
if you don't live where i live:
but a lot of english households are in
complete disarray! ****, my neighbour's
garden looks like a shelled field at Ypres
(world war i) -
                           just thought i'd point that out:
mind you, that's enough,
   i've got a cinema of a thunderstorm to return
to, and catch god blinking while painting
with a lightning bolt.