you can't exactly drink a glass of
bell's whiskey and pepsi
like you might do with a whyte & mackay,
or any bourbon for that matter,
the ***** is too smokey...
   you need a slice of lemon to bite
through the smokey aroma and
subsequent taste...
             but it's doable...
                     the smoke somehow escapes
with the use of a lemon slice...
    but beside that...
i was going to buy some rolling papers
from a shop with a cash machine...
the message i read on the screen:
  this cash machine charged 95 pence
for a debit withdrawal...
   this machine...
   is going to charge me £0.95
    to... take money,
out from, my bank account,
                       things started getting fuzzy...
i walk into the pharmacy for
my "anti-psychotic" fix of
amitriptyline "medication"... walked around
the collier row roundabout to
the tesco cash machine,
withdrew a tenner,
   went in and bought the rolling papers...
there's absolute no conspiracy...
this is illegal, isn't it,
i remember corner shops charging
a debit card holder £0.50 (50 pence)
for purchases below £5.00 (5 quid)...
             the "authorities" cracked down
on this practice...
but now...
   i'm reading a cash machine...
telling me...
   i have to pay: to withdraw my own
money...
   4 digit armed bandit...
          this is not funny...
                    the same cash machine
allowed me to widthraw money for free...
now, all of a sudden,
i have to: "pay" and, yes, literally: pay,
to withdraw money, my money,
to buy rolling papers...
             problem being...
around this collier row roundabout,
there used to be a lloyds bank,
a natwest bank,
   and the post-office,
providing cash machine services:
free of charge...
    i still remember the times
when bank competition was rife,
and you'd have to go to your branch
of stash, and withdraw from there,
rather than facing payment
   withdrawing money from
the competition...
     but we're talking a local shop...
it's not a bank,
it's a convenience store...
     it's either a nightmare,
or a ****** good joke...
  to withdraw money,
   from my bank account,
         i have to, pay a fee...
  £0.95 is not much...
         but... i just paid £1.00 for two
packets of rizla red, rolling papers...
soviet communism worked
for a period of Poland,
1945 through to 1990...
  a unique scenario,
                 a country war-riddled...
given that when the soviets came
they made the dictum:
   either your pride and self-determination,
or... ERP (marshall plan) bail-out...
   it only works,
   when a country needs to be rebuilt...
not when...
    well... you're reading
the script of a cash machine,
telling you: we'll charge you for taking
your money out...
      i became docile with the debit
charge for transactions under £5.00
in these shops...
            until the "authorities" cracked down
on the practice...
    come to think of it:
debit never had it so bad,
      you spend what you have,
not deluded by some mythical dragon
creature akin to credit...
whenever i used the credit system,
i knew i had enough debit reserves
to pay it off...
  but i am still bemused by the credit
system...
   i much preferred to spend what i had,
rather than what i didn't...
   which made the credit card
sort of pointless...
   given that it was only a variation
of delayed payment...
   which became too unsettling for me...
delayed payment...
try telling that to a *******...
        and that munchkin turkish ****
readied to punch your lights out...
          prostitution really clarified
a lot of what is the ergonomic of money...
you pay, you get served,
   the end...
       you don't pay, you don't get served,
the end.
            money isn't even a "thing",
it a medium of linguistics that's more potent
than this language:
               albo ten język (or this tongue)...

it's a language of surds,
             there are unwritten laws,
   so everything becomes nuanced...
               apart from the clarity of transactions...
that **** is clear as daylight...
you can't exactly call it buying,
when you're obviously stealing it...

    so what was that whole affair
i just encountered?
  where a cash machine...
was going to charge me, 95 pence,
to simply withdraw 10 quid?
        is this some sick fantasy of
me being charge those 95 pence,
to support the cost of keeping
this cash machine being functional?

          so i have to pay for
the electricity cost, of a public utility?
is this a sick version of paying
taxes?
             and of course: in england,
land of next in second lineage
of the free...
                   and they kept saying
that i'm a schizophrenic,
                      the mentally unhinged...
sure, i'll take the pills...
   but the justifications to counter my
observations, are dying up...
real ******* fast...

                         i'm already playing
a waiting game,
   30 years...
that's what i have...
   when my student loan debt
   is annulled...
             i'm currently 12 years in,
so half-way...
   and i still haven't managed
to generate the sort of income
that legally requires me to pay
the loan off...
                           namely £15,000...
such basic demands,
a degree in chemistry,
   a job in chemistry...
                 and i'll do my little porky
poetic ******* on the side...
well... the most chemistry i've seen
so far, was primarily concentrated
in looking at the effects
of ethanol on the brain,
       and its subsequent expression...
          
maybe my existential concerns
are off the rails,
    dating...
                 i never... bothered myself
to be concerned with this
"problem"...
   after reading a few continental
existentialists,
    coming to the current,
anglophone existential qualms...
    i really don't know what to say...
like i "once upon a time" said...
you either go for advice
from a priest, a psychiatrist,
or a *******...
                     the prostitutes are
the most honest...
   plus... it's not all mumbo-jumbo
talk of feelings / doubts...
it's the full interface
of not merely two minds
and a conversation, but two bodies,
the minds come after,
  and they sort themselves out...

            and all that's left...
is a waiting game...
                 while looking at thespians...
that perdominant
    cultural paradigm artistic
medium of expression...
    you could have been fooled
that it was once painting,
      i guess... the standard genesis
model, of philosophers
despising poets,
   has something to do with their
love for theatre, for thespians...
   if plato abhorred the sophists /
poets...
      he must have been really
into the thespian superiority
                                should art,
ever have, a life, in the cultural
                        desire... of the people...
    to escape the platitude of verbs / work:
i.e. do this, do that.