while making strawberry gelato...

i don't think i ever heard anything this beautiful...
well... vaughan williams'
fantasia on a theme by thomas tallis...
there must have been some other song
that allowed me to cry...
cry? perhaps mourn... mourn beauty...
something so beautiful should only be
wept at...
perhaps there was some other song...
but it's hard to take your pick of tear-jerkers
from the classical music scene...
******* Bach and his polyphonic layer-cake!
it's such a technical music:
it's music that could be written by
deaf people!
oh wait... Beethoven!
Bach's supposed revolutionary act just
destroyed melody...
as much as i like the genre i'm not going to
champion in...
jazz too doesn't get away so easily...
listen to it i might: but feel it: i don't...
i needed to go deeper... further back...
as far back as... the medieval times...
hell... on the cusp of... crusader chants of
the Templars... or to pagan Scandinavia!
- but i have found a contender to put
vaughan williams' fantasia to rest...

el cant de la sibil·la catalunya...
           montserrat figueras
    la capella reial de catalunya
                                                   jordi savall...

even if the music seems... "seems"? i only had
to find out that jordi savall is still alive!
alive... a "contemporary"...
that's the other song that could usurp
vaughan williams' fantasia!

   ola gjeilo - northern lights!

  here we go! back to chanting... melody!
no need to complicate matters...
Schumann or Schubert? Schumann...
wait... i always get those two wrong...
but enough with the Mahler complications!

jeez... jordi savall is still alive...
well... isn't his interpretation on the cantos
of the sibyl of Catalonia a real thrill...
has my tears...
once more! music that makes you feel:
you escape the sensible drudgery of
objectivity and thinking!
to the rawness: the pulp of the heart!
it is nearing a year since someone dear
to me passed away...
today was the first time i managed to thirst
for tears...
prior to? i smashed my head against
the radiator and replied to the inquiry party:
well... this puddle of blood?
it seemed easier to bleed than to cry...
then again... i don't think i was crying
from grief...
death being so: consistent... let alone a constant...
i cry at beauty... authentic beauty chokes me...

music that makes you write something
in Danish!
i don't speak Danish... i suppose all of this
is in the confines of English grammar:

jeg græd: hvordan kan du ikke?
sådan skønhed er altid så en ydmygende sorg...

music that makes you want to drink!
makes you want to drink well into the night!

medieval music... music that's everything
that Bach strived to invent:
music written by complicated deaf & blind men...
music that's like... eating a steak tartar...
or a Turkish lavash...
who would have thought that rosemary
works so well with beef...
or that Turks appreciate the onion so much...
all it takes for the "salad": garnish of the lavash...
it tenderising the onion by squeezing
it to get the juices flowing...
some lemon juice... some salt...
some sugar... pepper... oil...
parsley... sumac... but i also add some
gochugaru...

       beef and rosemary?
i want to be drunk with my lack of ambition...

- with no immediate: yet not lacking in
immediacy: concern...
i do not venture to give collapse to the modern
man's debacle...
as a revisionist... not a reformist...
two labels i like to contest...
it begins... and ends with a critique of music...

the urban sphere is lost...
to the African rhythms and the Asiatic grooves...
hollow out the horns!
i pass these landscapes like i might pass
a tomorrow...
it doesn't change: i am expected to find
the congregation of the whole world
on these shores...
such a crushing defeat of the senses...

i ought to take that prospect of
£50 for a massage from an Asian woman
than... cough up...
£120 for the same hour of *******
and... "proper" eye contact while engaged
with her... genitals to genitals...

i can't bemoan a land that isn't my own...
i can't bemoan a land that isn't my own...
as much as i have acquired
the tongue: i feel a desire to find a home
elsewhere... it wouldn't be the tongue of
my birth... forget Russian...
i tease the German root...
somewhere... else... among the Danes...
but i know the answer already:
i'd sleep best among the Franks...

ha! to speak Russian implies to first write
the ****** version of Greek...
Cyrillic looks just... blatantly awkward...
it seems to be having "problems" with
the lowercase representation
of the uppercase letters...
Cyrillic looks like... ahem: cheap-Greek...
makeshift-Greek...

i.e. you think some people are... sparring
with you: engaging you with...
nukes & submarines & ****...
you aim at the soul...
their language... &... pay them a compliment...
or two... because Cyrillic looks...
by comparison to Greek...

a bit like watching a sacrificial...
Germanic type... mythological blonde...
being sacrificed on an altar of a *******...
take it to: retro... *******: gloryhole...
last time i checked: i did not wish to fulfil
all that's offered to me, by my sexuality...
last time i checked... my mind informed me
something on the lines of:
let's conjure up a... hammer!
& a nail!

            is gelato "somehow" superior to...
ice-cream?
sure as ****... stir-fried: it's easier
to make... l'inglese... beating egg yolks
for a freezing of custard...
but... gelato you make and eat immediately...
ice-cream is perfect for storage...

- i know i will drink this bourbon tonight
and regret two things...
tomorrow's hangover and tonight's:
not have visited a brothel...
warming up to a woman like
a Spartan 300...
all i have is... Gregorian chants
in my ears... i guess... that's enough...
& a squinting of the eyes...
like: i'm supposed to see any better
what is already lost to this
old soul...

- but a language i can, try... & defend...
but do i really want to?
so much & yet so little...
i'm living among these people while wanting
to speak the language of people
not willing to invite themselves to these
shores...

jeg elske: som langt som jeg afsky: mig selv...
all those crippling components
that are supposed to make the: fullest:
of man... myself: my?! my?! perhaps... with-self
ought to be the better pardoning...
but i dare not even have that?

no-i says... can't keep this outdated marriage
of language in place...
conflated the ego: conscripted the self:
to no one's ease!

such people as they are: come-and-go...
           such little ought... befalls them...
no crippling nothing-vacuum
of presence: "thinking"...
        nuance! forever with the *******
nuances! it's not enough that
the dead are dead... have died:
it's not not enough the living are still...
worst than somehow sleeping
through their hour of waking...
when someone might ask them to
snooze... a little... a lot: i ask!

don't implore me to write:
it ought to be a slaughterhouse sort of a...
an... assortment...
it ought to be made... clinially:
critical... precise"
don't ask me to write these words!
i want to have a wife...
a child... children!
stay up till midnight
to make ice-cream for them... for breakfast...

al dette tid!
    but no one to spend it with!
if regrets were all i wrote:
hvis beklager
                     var al jeg skrev...

in mein: tilting Ing-Leash...
so many... so many people here!
i want to escape to my roots!
to my rot!
      i want to feel hot: when i feel:
subsequently cold!

the cats are... happy... i must tend to them:
proper... i eat... 200grams of beef
from time to time...
they eat... the eat amount:
if they eat the said amount...
don't blame me... if they don't eat it
and i throw the meat away...

i write in English... everyone else seems
to write, speak... this... pulverised... this...
horrid, tongue...

der taler det?! alle sammen?!
      all men: thus... summoned...
upon an... implosion! i don't want to know!

i gathered... i gathered...
i... drink like a sailor...
i sing like a nun!  noted... noted...
it's all down in my usual flurry of escapades
that need... noting:
i drink like a sailor... i sing like a nun!

i wish i was sober when i wrote: everything
it is... that i wrote...