i quiet simply adore London when it's windy...
flimsy £125 Viking road bicycle...
but the ergo (anatomic) shape of the handlebars...
well: you can be equipped with at least 3 cycling
positions... but i can come up with 4...
from (circa) Havering-atte-Bower
to the lake in Hyde Park...
roughly 20 miles one way... but i imagine it's more:
there and back? over 40 miles most certainly:
and on a day such as the one i was presented with:
where the wind was so harsh i was
swerving: being thrown side to side...
a chance to sit on a bench: giggle a while
while admiring the birds... and the water...
my god... the water... the water on the lake
inspired me to conjure up the times i'd admire
Kamienna River: a river of stones...
and Heraclitus...
just sat there: drinking a Heinekken
reading a little... smoking two cigarettes...
a stork... a swan... some other birds i don't know
the names of perched on stilts erected from
the depths... spirit: 12 dreams of dr. sardonicus...
oh the best part of the journey is from Startford
across the Bow overpass through to Mile End
& beyond...
i'm sure you can get to 25mph type of speed...
when London is this windy...
it's unbelievably realistic:
reality... and all their counterpart pockets of:
what i need...
well... as per usual... a man sitting on a bench
alone: grinning at nature will evidently come across
several women walking past...
in London that's implicit of at least one
lesbian couple...
god... they looked so miserable...
the single girls looked so miserable...
even this one woman pushing a buggy with a child
in it was muttering something under her lips...
oddly enough two gays were captivated by
feeding a colt of a swan... they seemed rather
content...
also: it's fun cycling through these supposed
"no-go zones" in western society...
what... you think that the face i pull when cycling
for over 40 miles doesn't look
like the face i have when... ahem...
i might be having ***...
thank god i don some Lycra shorts under some
proper cotton balloon wide shorts...
it's the most fun when approaching the Sq. Mile:
the financial district...
oh sure... all of these men look "donning: the look"...
of importance...
but once you cycle past this area
you enter the territory of the sugar babies...
and the happy... hip... shoppers...
if i saw a vinyl shop: i'd go in...
but all that seems to be sold is...
mobiles... sneakers... clothes...
i get a thrill when i put on piece of clothing
and the label reads: MADE IN BANGLADESH...
i still have a shirt that has a label that reads:
MADE IN IRELAND...
anything made on China is... well... Chinese...
it has to be readily replaced...
of all the places i visited:
if it wasn't for the French speaking... well.. French...
Paris... it's the city to be alive in!
Edinburgh? i imagine it's the city best disposed
to entertaining ghosts...
i'd love to live in Paris...
                  i'd rather be dead in Edinburgh...
i've been allocated Loon'don...
even from the outskirts i can make a 4pm
shuffle of peak-hour traffic with great ease:
i don't usually pat-myself-on-the-back
with compliment: but i reckon i'm a decent cyclist...
not even swimming can afford me
the sort of freedoms that cycling does
in an urban environment...
here's to: no gym bro...
            traffic... go! go! go! at the roundabout...
miserable women walking past a guy
drinking a beer on a park bench: who's also
grimacing... why is it that all the loveliest of the lot
end up being prostitutes?
i never understood that... is it that
there's a conundrum concerning beauty:
it must be shared... it must be experienced by
the greatest number of admirers?
all the beautiful girls end up as prostitutes...
hell: there are outliers... obviously...
but in my vicinity...
the ones with motherly "responsibilities" are...
well... if i had to? i still wouldn't...
sorry... it's not cruel when it's being... what's that currency
of "cool" these days? ah... BASE...
the women breeding: from what i've seen...
it's like those few things i heard when
first arriving in England circa 1994 - 1997 before
i was kindly asked to leave...
for a year... never mind...
the beast from the east...
(it wasn't about jetlag) and...
look busy... Jesus is coming...
but this final hearsay i picked up on the street...
the mentality of an Anglo-Saxon...
i was a child: i simply overheard...
make sure you pick an average looking woman
for a wife...
with that scenario in play
you will not have to worry about other men
desiring her...
well **** me! what's the point of the ninja niqab, then?!

chicken / egg..
what came first? the ninja attire or the niqab?
seriously... they could start by revising the fabric
to make it white...
oh... right... Islam... hot topic these days
with the politician in Essex... the bow & arrows...
sure...
i'm glad that Islam had a schism so early...
so early that the son-in-law contested
the integrity of Muhammad...
i'm glad Islam had a schism in its infancy:
without all the Christian delayed bureaucracy...
council of Trent... etc.

ergo? Islam is not a true religion...
it can't be if it had a schism...
a true religion would be immune to... schism...
oh ****... well: that boat sailed...
from my reasoning...
side with the heretics...
the ****'ites are your best pick...
of course i'd side with the Iranians...
after all: they retain their pride in also being
of the heritage lot that was once known as Persian...
side with the ****'ites and...
well... the best prostitutes are Turkish...
but the cream of the crop concerning the aesthetic of
****** hair: being tended to?
no barber is better than a Turkish barber...
Turks... sort of Muslim but sort of:
not really... they drink!
- and since there is this long history of
their presence in Europe...
it's not like... "my" people did spar frequently with
them on the debate of: who's to own Vienna?!

hell: i'd join the Janissary corpus if i even could...
problem with history:
sometimes too much daydreaming gets invoked...

oh... right... slight impromptu...
as much as i adore exploring the country-lanes
of Essex... by comparison...
walking into a forest at night to admire
the moon... or walking into a graveyard:
also at night: to also admire the moon...
there this massive volume of creatures
in an urban environment...
i call it... the wilderness of humanity...

i wish i could have pseudo-echo's his eyes
blasting from my headphones when
i pass queen mary "professors"
crossing the street when
the light in green for me:
but red for them...
i passed so close i could almost stroke
their cheeks...
am i not traffic? am i a pedestrian
walking at 5mph?!
the ****?!

of course i tend to abuse the rules...
if there's an ambulance coming from behind me
flashing its lights and signalling with a siren...
i'll latch onto it to bypass traffic!

this is not airy-*******-fairy
cycling akin to the Pata-physician:
jarred, alfred...
this is... you're trying to get home:
i'm "sort of" also going home...
beside those solipsistic autistic "miracles"
of traffic... who... seem oblivious to
themselves: let alone others...
RETARDS...
no... they are retards....
given the potential for manslaughter...
oh sure... the inglorious & subsequently
sanctimonious cyclist: like... never...

come into the dark forest with me
let me put on a hockey mask...
or... i don a William Shatner latex and subsequently
say:                RUN...

care: in terms of traffic: has to be the most
universal rite of passage...
it should be a right...
more: it ought to be argued for...
but never use a much larger vehicle when inserting yourself
at the blind-spot end...
on the outside lane...

                  see that the truck driver sees you in his mirror
like you're overtaking traffic...
come on! the basics!
get to grips with unconscious arithmetic pf spacing!
you can't fit through: slow down...
slow the **** down!

no... no one's listening in the choir...
compared with: you can have the optimum experience
of cycling in heavy urban traffic: indicate! indicate with
your hands... to... hello ******: you're dead...
i think there's a "difference"...

with the current climate of killings...
let's be frank...
old age is the most cruel mistress of all..
a sudden death seems almost like a sanctity..
come old age: you wait... and you wait...
and wait... nothing happens...
this supposed wish of(f) Caesar is...
somehow a blessing..
to die: suddenly...
thunderstruck....
               mein gott...
                               to depart this world in the same
way one arrived in it?!
can you imagine the luck?!

hier: die großnacht hat kommen...
einfach wörter: einfach: ladung!