some petty existential observations:
well... i think they're petty...
if i'm thinking that they're petty
i'm not going to negate their pettiness...
but i will doubt that they are petty...
i guess that's how thinking changed
from Descartes through to Sartre...
negation replaced doubt... as a way to "think"...
denial overshadowed doubt...
i always found that doubt was a bit like love:
whatever love is...
doubt carries with it the same:
although a more measured plethora of
feelings... some would say...
all the smart people are full of doubts
while all the arrogant half-***** and jacks
are full of confidence...
i don't mind sometimes not being
confident... i like relaxing in the back of life...
which coincides with
a motto surrounding Neapolitan cooking:
minimum effort, maximum results...
as a fatalist i don't really want to be:
too engaged with life...
existence: out-of-ever-instance i can stomach
i was admiring a congregation of thrushes
on a rooftop: i wouldn't say hundred...
but at least thirty...
a priestly crow sat on an aerial overlooking them...
there was one pigeon among them too...
doubt like love gives me a plethora of
emotions... why are emotions "bad" in this...
atheistically materialistic world view of sensibility?
even i have concerns for deities...
sometimes lagging behind H. P. Lovecraft's
despair at all the deities being Hades...
or worse than Hades... at least in how they obey
the mantra of: head of a jackal... body of a man etc.
two points of "riddle"... or ridicule...
however you want to frame it...
- social media is damaging to young people...
esp. girls...
i remember the days when face-book was
exclusively sold to university students...
you needed a university email address to join up...
what was my Edinburgh university
email address... s... something...
not exactly an Auschwitz tattoo...
or a phone-number... whatever...
i remember being more into... foraging for music...
using last.fm more...
prior to that? Microsoft chat-rooms...
i mean... you can't apply metaphors and fancy
language to describe technological advances:
not just yet...
the technology is still in its infancy
but what i've figured out...
a way of bypassing editorial scrutiny...
as a platform... i can post this... no questions
asked... someone will like it...
someone will not like it...
that's part of the "game"... i can bypass editorial
scrutiny... after all: what's editorial scrutiny?
poetryfoundation.org... all minor publications...
they're publishers...
hence... editorial scrutiny...
my "stuff" will not get published on sites
as remote as 8 poems...
"fair representation"...
sure... they publish 8 poems in a month...
50 50? no... of the 8 poems...
6 have to be written by women...
as much as i love women as much as i love them
best when they're prostitutes...
come on... i'm seriously traversing these subject
matters?! really?
obviously social media outlets that are
prone to images & hieroglyphs will...
not outlive the ones consecrated on a formidable
use of: skeletons in your psyche-closet...
words!
plus... if you're engaging in a platform...
and you know that... you're bypassing all the gate-keeping:
in this... new... "democracy"...
i'm not Stephen King... i know...
reading Heidegger or Kant never had much
traction to begin with... so...
         it's like: there's a brick... think about throwing it...
but don't really throw it...
which is not a metaphor for...
no apparent use for reading a philosophy book
these days... except there's one...
how to best avoid drama with people...
how to not make it necessary to have a soap opera!
well... at least there's that!
if you can't forge past ingesting all that's
happening somewhere... elsewhere
but somehow still somehow visible in this:
what came first? the spider-web or the spider?
obviously if you're merely ingesting
and not... placing something... n'ah... bad argument...
again: i'm lazy...
i think i know what i'm doing...
writing mediocre Harlequin-esque romance novels...
with no romance...
you see a novel on me?
do i really need fiction to "escape"?
i'll just play with a metaphor... a misnomer and
those "air quotes"...
to posit: rather than prove a point...
to bypass editorial scrutiny: to leave it to a whisper:
like that quote concerning a myth of Marcus Aurelius:
for a return to the system of the republic
away from the tyranny of the Caesars...
it's for the people: by the people...
- like i have my pet peeve concerning
the celebration of Darwinism in the anglosphere...
in no other language is Darwinism still
so adamantly focused on...
it might be suggested that... Copernicus had
the same inflation happen to his theory
in the Slavic world...
it's a pet peeve because...
in summary... nature abhors vacuums...
there's this "thing" termed: evolutionary psychology...
by comparison: philosophy seems to be
in stasis... the one time something original could be
cited surrounds Ancient Greece...
child-men... able to think... original thoughts!
they were Spartans by half... but also Athenian
child-men... they carried a child of themselves
with the custodian sentence of authority and responsibility
into later age!
is it so bad to be a man-child?!
is it so bad to feel something beside this,
current... "sensibility" melee of what's primed...
prim & tuxedo worthy?
while psychology latched onto the sign of the times...
cliche... sure...
even i write with conversational overtones...
so did Horace!
nature abhors a vacuum...
the current birds descended from dinosaurs...
biology soon turns into geology...
given how much time it takes to "see" changes...
although: none of these changes you will see...
unless in a microcosm of events!
i know i'm bypassing editorial scrutiny...
where else would i hoard my outpourings?
in a stuffy shelf... in never-never-la-la-land?
where? if this is not achieving sensible traction...
what am i going to do?
make a blank canvas protest akin
to Jens Haaning? for, ****'s sake...
take a picture of my face smeared in my own...
****?!
it's what you put in...
if you're simply divulging these platforms...
divulging...  no... wrong word...
i have too many words made available at my
disposal... i'm sure to misuse... at least one...
i'm thinking of...
voyeurism that you might want...
that's the only way of thinking about...
voyeurism and... well... not lying...
there's no money in poetry: is this poetry?
it's certainly not writing some horror fiction... no?
outside of the English-speaking-world...
Darwinism is non-existent... not in the realm of
the cultural undercurrents of commentary...
while philosophy stagnated... slept...
psychology was born...
even these poetry platforms are flawed...
buying "suns"... buying tractions to engaged a greater
audience... what happened with:
having EARNED it?
again: i'm bypassing editorial scrutiny...
it's not like editors have a finger on the pulse to
begin with...
i drink 70cl of whiskey and pretend to be happy...
if i'n not culturally "appropriating" a curry...
i'll be looking at the syllables of katakana or...
the joyous complexity of Hangul...
i reserve my right to sit... folded leg...
on a windowsill..
hide behind words... words over images...
hide... celebrate words...
there's a need for something: "something":
spoken to, spoken at... soaked with sounds!
people are starving for words...
obliterated by hieroglyphic shortcuts!
- eh... standing at 6ft2... having lost...
         almost 18kg of flesh...
from 118kg down to 98kg...
       i'm currently attractive: visible once more...
odd...
1, 3, 5, 7, 9.... odd...
in the supermarket a blonde... slightly taller than
me... had to take a second look at me...
no need for detail... it's too complicated with the freezed
yoghurt...
then at the checkout i implored a girl to go
ahead of me since... the self-service cashier
was too busy giving out-of-date-beer...
while my bottle of mr. whiskers and ms. amber
had a tag.... while... this tender little thing...
was only buying an energy drink...

wide opening: no door...
she looked at me... casually... ha ha...
as if an alien or a Christ de Burgh muzak started plasying...
well... towering over her...
you lose over 20kg of mass...
women start eyeing you up...
personally... i like the fantasy...
i like the the fantasy because i know...
what reality fathoms... what reality describes
with the focus of continuum...
i know what i am...
a miraculous unit of circus fantasy!
that i'm phantasmagorical...
i know...
i'm un-attain- blah...

here's another perfect conundrum...
there i am... riding my pristine... cheap-*****...
viking road-bicycle... £'125 worth's worth...
do i look like someone guessing with
a helmet for a traffic hazard?! no... hey presto!
i'm donning something few bicycles riders
dare to prove themselves with...

sunglasses... those i have...
perched on the top of my head..
two colts... in school uniform...
i never thought i was cool...
ha ha... "cool"...
Dawid Bovie was...
i'm a mediocre "passenger"...
it was one of those atypical English days...
sun one moment... overcast the next...
so i looked at the sky...
put my sunglasses on...
suddenly i became a celebrity for these two
colts!                    ahem... how?!

am i known?
famous as in... not by the standards of inflated egos?
100 years from "now":
jeztz?!
                   O the agony...i have either:
tired... or cold..... literally...
cold foot-break....
psychology seems to have bitten
more... than it can / could allow itself
to...                                             chew...