standing in the supermarket,
the 70cl of Jackie Boy is on sale...
16 quid...
   last night i bought a liter for
30 quid...
   drank ~half of it...
          stood there measuring
with my L shaped measuring
tool of an extend index to the base
of an extended thumb...
will that work out to what
i've already drunk?
   apparently it did...
   while i tried to remember how many
people i past on my way to the supermarket...
1 fox...
              anyone else?
  nope... just me... and this one fox...
on my way back i tried to remember
what drove me to the act of
criminality,
of taking a knife in public...
oh... right... sushi...
and needing to peel and slice
up a lemon to eat the sushi on...
right...
          and that incident with
this guy running after a girl
and then the girl pointing at me
and shouting at the guy to look...
knife in full view...
   and then the guy running in the opposite
direction...
  yeah... that night...
really hazy...
   **** me... living on the outskirts of
a capital city, living in what is
technically: not the capital city has
its perks...
   walking at night?
you're probably the only person walking
the labyrinths...
   going for a drinking session in the forest,
or the chanced several days
of drought...
   and then throwing yourself
into a carpet of autumnal leaves...
smearing your face with them,
to extract the perfumery of decay?
still on your own...
         no one to bother you...
deer, hell-hounds, foxes,
badgers, rabbits... crows... kestrels...
seagulls... seagulls?!
oh yeah... i don't know how they
manage
to fly so far inland, but they do...
rowan, sparrows...
       wróbelsokolka...
****... almost a googlewhack...
**** it... the two search results...
but.... i'm guessing that's harder to find
than actual googlewhacks of a single
result...
     i still don't know how i managed
to get away with taking a knife
into a public realm... maybe because it
was the night time...
or that i was eating sushi...
or... the fact that a girl managed to get
away from a provocation is
some unknown in her realm of life
encounter...
    i guess, as you would, play
the ethnic card...
headphones: heard jack-****...
but it played out as:
see that white guy over there on
the bench?
   Oreo better run.... see what he has
in his hands?!
   yeah, Oreo better run back...
he has a knife in his sand...
sorry, what?!
   too little wasabi, not enough
pickled ginger,
the soya sauce not balancing
the lemon slice...
needs some sweetness?
  anyways...
    i love boring myself with
these sorts of cognitive arithmetic,
like... this memory
becomes a rubric designated
to 1 + 1 = 2...
it's intrinsically my ontological
focus of what subsequently
becomes the memorization of
the spelling of words...
   inclusive memory consists of...
h o w i w o u l d w r i t e t h i s
a n y w a y...
               the exclusive memory
is... what actually happened
in the subject matter...
   but **** on me...
  i wanted to test the field...
like back in Edinburgh on a second
year sociology cure,
with regards to the plagiarism
computer program that was supposed
to find out the plagiarists...
i was a plagiarists...
i didn't end up studying sociology,
rather...
   how to beat
    a plagiarism computer program
with a thesaurus,
   and a skill at rewording paragraphs...
what did i score?
   90+%?
                 guess the system
was a complete fail...
  hence me taking a knife
into a public sphere...
                just testing the territory.
- sure as hell the Jack will flow...
and i'll end up writing nothing
substantial...
although... there is that culinary
advice...
   shove a decent slice of lemon
into the insides of a whole chicken,
and decent **** of butter...
and then slice some butter and put
it over a chicken...
   obviously use an oven plastic
bag...
             and bake it for over one &
a half hours...
   juiciest cluck-cluck strutter you'll
ever serve...
   a lemon really exfoliates
the potential of the chicken in terms
of easing out the meat juices...
and...
    that's pretty much anything than
mattered today.