such are the nights of utmost tedium... no editorial scrutiny leaves me naked before the audience... willing or not... if you're reading this... you're probably not reading some tabloid journalism or, for that matter... i'm stuck on Kierkegaard's vol. 4... while i'm simultaneously reading C. Dickens' Pickwick Papers... one review reads as: one of my life's great tragedies is having already read the Pickwick Papers for the first time...  i protest... another one is having listened to Silverchair's song Shade from the album frogstomp and not having to play it own guitar... along with Black Sabbath's song solitude... i'm stuck... i find leaving replies more satisfying than anything: to begin with... akin to:

- Ja, ein klein dinge. They are important

- let me stretch... yes... a child-thing? two nouns far apart... what if we sharpened one of the nouns with an adjective? kindisch-ding... but you'll still find me wholly in agreement.

i rather leave this much as much as is already very little... than... bother myself with editorially-pressurised... it's a bit hit & miss with an audience... sometimes you come up with the mark... most of the times you don't... i fold: trouble with gambling is that... it's no summary: no proper summary of fate... little gambling measures: why have they always left me most suspicious... ol' Mammon... if i were to tell you that you were to be paid in peanuts... rather than in ascribing worth to precious metals... esp. with an effigy of royalty... how or why we made this contract between each other in order to summarise having "ghost" hands... take care of the garbage...  me writing this terribly: agonising verses... prosaic... because to rhyme would be implying: readily caged...

to these isles... i brought with my a suitcase of
old german ghosts...
i drink... i tend to forget some of the Ing-leash...
i forage... explore...
i bypass: in a language where several words
can share the same phonetic "suit"... well:
what's not to like...
i like living among these people:
for all their faults: their faults of capitulation
to... well... i don't see the Luftwaffe among
the crows... a peaceful "conquest": project
out-breeding... but hell... getting used to the weather
will take some stamina: some: hertz...
immediately: i have to write something
in alt-deutsche...
i don't care much for any French influence
on the tongue...
Welsh doesn't bring much influence to the shared
tongue of these isles...
Welsh is still so intact...
           while the Scots might have forgotten
their Gaelic...
settled for the accented identity...
sing-along Scots: i love how they retained
trilling of their R...
that's how i bemoan the Ing-Leash zunge...
the lost trill of the R...
tongue-numbing... a tarantula must have bit my
tongue or something:
i'm prone to: SEPLENIĆ...
talk without a trill of the R...
wait... i'll look into it... i'm sure there's
might be a fix... an orthographic fix...
to add a diacritical marker on the R: to dress it up
in a tux of: a trill would be welcome...
ꝛobot...
     the calligraphic r rotunda looks oh
so pretty...
but there's also: Ṝ... too much work...
               ɍobot... a strike through...
- i came to these isles with a suitcase of old
german ghosts...
thank god the natives: after the ancient Romans
left were... a breed of Saxons...
i can't imagine how the world would
have become what it is...
if... the Schvabs (Swabians) inclined themselves
to be... more adventurous...
Anglo-Swabian doesn't have the same ring
to it...
us Wends know a little about zee: Gir: gi-gi
(jittery: dzittery: dzida: ah... spear)
mein herz ist blutend blau...
i drink: i turn to alt deutsche...
- i come with a suitcase of old german ghosts
picked up from the mass-graves from world war I...
but at least the enemy buried...
oddly enough... you'll find a sparrow...
or a robin... sing at such sights...
the winning side with all their individually:
named... consecrated to the earth...
will not welcome a bird song...
too many tourists?
too much pseudo-marble?
      a robin a sparrow will venture to the
graveyards of those germans fallen
in world war I...
nothing but pomp & circumstance concerning
the graveyard of the winning side...
how our tastes changes...
the pagans wed the dead body
to fire...
the monotheistic: drowning met clinging to
the razor's edge...
materialistic children:
wed their body to the earth...
with death: there's a need of proof
of bones... i like how the pagans preferred
wedding the dead body to fire...
rather than wedding it to... earth...
two options left... wedding the dead body to water
or to air...
no fun in that... no need, either...
no... writing and freely pushing my worst
is probably the one time i tease
at burning-out...
i'd much appreciate an editorial scrutiny sometimes...
but given that an editorial scrutiny would
leave me with a congested
"masterpiece"...
the ******-ones make it through
the sieve... like this one...
while the gems lie hidden...

          i need to find the abyss of sleep where
i'm not imagining ****** scenes that
will obstruct my cycling tomorrow...
if it's a dream and i'm not ******* in it...
what's the point of dreaming...
perhaps i switched on an automated button:
for freeze... to obstruct complex dreaming
scenarios...
i fall asleep... i wake up...
a doubling-up of night is all that happens
in between...
well there are options...
you can read some tabloid newspapers...
you can watch t.v.
you can be on a quest for fire...
or teenage girl libido...

              the terrible has already happened:
the worst can still be unsaid...
i'll say my plough...

- mein gott...
   i look the most menacing creature...
looking into a mirror while
*******
in the dark into the sink...
ugh... what's with the English & German...
article stressors...
definitely a chair... alternatively:
the chair...
or the pronoun construct...
in Wend: ******... the pronoun I
is so rarely used that... when it's used...
shrapnel muzik: elevator *******...
going: oink!              up?

too much of language scrutiny...
i'm breeding: brain-freeze...
some definite articles indefinite... pronouns...
elsewhere...
while otherwise
nouns incorporate *** preferences...
while it's all asexual in Ing-Leash...
Elvis has just entered the building...
so did Johnny Cash...
thank you... goodnight.