-Your take on casual *** and **** is interesting. My take on casual *** is that it's self-gratifying more so than gratifying the other person. As you stated, the thirty party versus the party selling water. The closest I've come to casual *** is when I once gave a former student (a man by this time) a ******* (don't judge me). Poor guy never got over it, though. It was never repeated to his utter devastation. His begging made it pathetic and, hence, no longer flattering since he's ten yeas my junior (Again, don't judge me). I agree that **** should be watched in silence. I barely do that, either. I'd rather be having *** than watching it.

- whether it's self-gratifying is debatable... you can always find the "alternative"... the less-ushered in "conundrums" of sexuality to be made appealing... i know that's only verbiage... but there can't be anything alien for us to... given the totality of all that's human... you keep repeating this mantra about not being judged... are you dabbling in more fiction than reality? i can understand you wanting to compete with me when it comes to making casual *** as graphic as possible: teasing me with fetishes of the teacher-student conundrums... you made it implicit that i shouldn't judge you: i won't... because... something... "something" doesn't fit the narrative... i don't know what: i like to think of you as suspect... although i have no clear reasons to do so... i'm not going to have a hard-on through the mere scribble of script with what you ciphered... you want me on a leash: no? we are... playing a game of your choosing... or has literally soured our brains to the point of being so uninhibited as to ****** honesty and trust onto strangers? i'll give you the benefit of the doubt... you want me to... imagine you as a *******... it's a complete and utter: hilarity... how certain topics exist in: best expressed with images, bodies and sign language: but god-forbid the deecration of them being turned into verbiage... Braille... the new Christian H'American way of dealing with a European heritage... no? i'm not judging i'm just...  Bronzino... cupid venus folly & time... i did a "counter" masterpiece on that one... given the fact that i was equipped with the antithesis of not being prescribed the m.g.m. of circumcision... i'm not judging... but we're playing poker at this point... i don't watch **** because: i rather be having ***... i'm watching it because: i don't really have two kids... or a story of having underage students... i give ******* to! come on... it's not like i have scented candles... a reclining armchair waiting... for me to... delight others in the vain hope of reclaiming the *******... i like that little scribble of yours... sorry: i was snoozing when you didn't awake my... non-existent fetishes... then again: am i pursuing a line of thought that might: demean your authenticity as having made such feats in... oh wait... you said you didn't have casual ***? you know... when i was younger... hide & seek... made a load of sense... these days? truth & lie... the old proverb stands... lies have short... ****** legs to stand on... you're coming across as sort of... creased... i'm still not judging... you're barking up the wrong tree attempting to even attempt to get me aroused... i'm not from north ******* H'America where going to a disco strip-bar is some barometer of what happens between two naked bodies expedite consent! this persistent north american... puritanism! how the Mayans were invoked: i will never ever want to bother to know... i'm not judging you... i'm just thinking: i mentioned that i don't mind seeing you as your Avatar... although you sent me a picture of yourself... so... you're trying to reconvene my impression of you... i don't need north american ***** fetishes... i''m glad by simply reimagining milking a cow... i too would rather be having *** than watching it: but i'm not exactly watching it... the English girls of Rotherham prefer Pakistani "tenderness"... of... what's that word... ah! GROOMING... mea culpa up to what, point?! i'm not judging... but you have enough inconsistencies in your narrativ that... well... there was once a dalmation... there was once a polka dot print on a girl's skirt... there was once a "thing" known as a Swiss cheese... how's that?!

"you" really have no more reason to "invade":
perhaps assimilate...
buzz-word: ethno-masochism of the west...
and there it hangs... on the cross...
"you" really have no more reason to "invade":
migrate... whatever you want to call it...
i have nothing to defend...
do i think that the Christianity project
is nothing more than
a Greco-Judaic conspiracy theory to undermine
the Roman rule...
looks like the Latin alphabet will not be conquered
by the Semites or: the Greeks...
the Greeks sought out a Molotov-Ribbentrop pact
with the Slavic tribes
by sending St. Cyril to decipher some
Croat Church graffiti of the Glagolitic script...
so the Hebrews became abandoned...
and Christianity became a creature unto its own:
a chimera... a hydra...
a Protestant reinvigoration... for a while...
but i have nothing to defend:
i don't understand the concept of
Judeo-Christian ethics...
i understand: you slap me... i slap you back...
you punch me: i punch you back...
it is so ingrained in me that entertaining
something counter to the argument:
to pacify: to enlarge the citizenry corpus
is... abhorring to me: inherent nature
of seeking like for like...
it's not that i simply despise Christianity...
it's that i'm sick of it leeching on
vitality for what's left of life...
unless the promise of a 2nd coming is
a tickling aside imitation of a sling-shot...
but i doubt that: doubt...
oh doubt... the plethora of emotions bundled up
with something to combat gambling
addictions...
i have nothing left to be conquered...
saying that: when i watch these genius
video marshals i think to myself:
abhorring being ridiculed when i was
younger was one thing...
being prompted... being spoon-fed
subject matters that...
don't necessarily need me to be invited...
between res cogitans
& res vanus... it's hard to keep up with
one's "solipsistic" narrative...
hence the perils of being sponge-esque:
empty...
propagandist are a bit like advertisers:
to hell with journalists...
propagandists want you to think about
what they're saying...
that's just plain dandy: unnerving...
if you meditate: honestly...
a priori as res vanus
rarther than a priori res cogitans:
you see it... you hear it...
i don't want to think about what other people
speak of... hence the luxury of writing:
it's hardly intrusive... it can't be intrusive...
it must be... digested... there has to be
an invested effort: that's subsequently shared
by both the writer of the script:
and the reader of the script...
it's not... the engaged voice leaning into
the ear of the passive listener...
            is it?
            i'm glad to have discovered this sieve...
i'm not going to juggle a bunch of maxims
to begin: or end with...
i don't like to be prompted with what
i'm to think...
but i'm suddenly getting the idea that:
some people want me to think about things
that are either unimportant...
impossible to change or:
well the OR of... the tides of time...
the collective fate... if there's  collective
unconscious then there's the collective fate...
i can't go against it...
or i might: stick my head up from the current
like some Horace...
because even he didn't bother
with tightly-knit pockets of rhyme pingpong
when he wrote...
         he wrote what he wrote:
as i'll write what i write...

nice metaphors: turning water into wine...
feeding a throng with two loaves of bread
and... what's the fraction 5 to 2 worth of oily fish?
perhaps the magic still works
in South America and Africa...
i'm not even going to defend the European
secular alternative...

i'm thinking on the lines...
if Beelzebub be the lord of the flies...
there must have been a Semitic god for...
title: lord of the mosquitos...
who changed water into wine
and wine into blood and blood into wine
and wine into water?
magic tongue choked on itself
when the ******* Giza cat purred?!
like i said:
i have nothing to defend...
the women of these lands are on their
****-lashing out mantra of anti-racism /
ethno-masochism...
good luck anticipating me throwing more
into the roulette with
a replacement rate of 2.1+ to keep
a future gene culprit with an ** 21st...
up to speed on the joyride...

it's good to be out of the whole game...
by choice...
             i have nothing to defend therefore:
hell! we're building a post-racial
Europe... a vision of Brazil!
oh i'm all for it: a nation of mulattos...
Turkic-German mulattos...
   Anglo-Saxon-Afro-Saxon-Caribbean
mulattos...
everyone a middle-easterner!
it's going to be great...
the towers are here: here's to rekindling
the metaphors of the tower of Babel
and the flood:
i simply can't abhor what is:
in-evi-table... inevitable...
i have my hands either tied behind my back
while i walk casually imitating the folded
wings of a crow pecking at dust...
or there's something of a Pontius Pilate in me...

i believe the old gods: i'll bypass the Siamese
plagiarism of Greek into Roman...
after all... what become of Troy...
Zeus turned into Jupiter...
Hades became Neptune... and later the planets...
i believe in the phonetic stressors of
the Hebrew deity:
                                      vowel-catcher: ah... oh...
i believe in the vowel-multiplier:
the origin of laughter: ha ha ha...

         i believe in the imploded Y
that became Δ (st. peter's cross implosion)...
    why: it's not exactly nonsense if it doesn't
have to be rhyming: therefore suggesting
that via rhyme it might be more easily memory-erosive...
i don't require a... Julien Sorel
or a hafiz...
                    i despise all that rhymes:
bad rhyme: the seas' invasion / nibble at land...
the echoes of ping-pong...
knock-knock... who's there?
a Seljuk Turk... from the 11th century...
knock-knock... who's there?
an Ottoman Turk... from the 17th century...
knock-knock... who's there?
a timid Serb about to consecrate
himself upon the altar of
the genocide of Muslims in Europe
the remains of the Ottoman Empire...
as the concept of Yugoslavia dissolved...
funny that... when the Soviet Empire dissolved...
it was done so peacefully...
what were the chances that the Soviet Union
might have dissolved down the Yugoslavia route?
high... low? no chance in hell?

scrutinising a concern of identity theft that
began in the 19th century: and still persists...
i don't take it lightly: an identity was proposed
by some HANS...
the Silesian Hanys...
not the old Prussian Kashubian:
that so many people decided to congregate:
i'll buy the economic benefits...
but there's also the paraphernalia of secrets:
in the tides of man:
time... great emblem of this hearth...
alias of earth...
fluctuations of space between
here and... Pompeii...

   can't exactly entertain the people while
staging chess-matches on imitation
4D boards of pyramids...
how we reinvented the coliseum
and rewarded the wait with the English joke
of the guillotine...
for a people that can boast Empire building...
if only the Spanish Armada succeeded...
for a people who haven't been invaded
for so long by their kindred neighbours:
to now be... overflowing with so much... "love"...
for an abstract of a "fellow" man...
the citizen of the world is always
welcome in England...
he wasn't... back in 1997... i remember
being deported from England...
i remember being deported from England...
goods can transcend nationhood...
it's economics: good, proper... honest labour
is somehow frowned upon...
brain-drain is acceptable...

no... i have a head of a macaque monkey:
sized so...
the words can't simply be stitched into
my numb-skull so easily as to leave
me lob-sided heavily nodding with agreement...
i'll be on the nod: from
the amount of wine i'll be drinking...

his cherished prizes...
the architecture can topple...
"his": everyone seems to be playing
a grammatical game these days:
why can't his not be a dis-possessive
articulation of a multiplied ownership:
paradox...
his?? whom?
             shadows of ghosts...
i like that...

- what i don't like is thinking that: men hunt
for ***: the mammoths are extinct...
what isn't readily available:
is not worth the hunt...
                i would be expected to find ****?
if **** don't come round most
agreeably submissive...
i'll go find something else to... ahem... "hunt"...
**** this stereotypical bogus load of
*******!