title: VIII
body: hello 'enry,
how long are
those greens?!        again... another 502 bad gateway hack... with ref. to king henry the 8th composing: greensleeves

ich komme: belastet mit
geschenke...

i come: burdened with
gifts...

well, "for some reason" that sounds
better in Deutsche...
why am i not surprised?
warum bin ich
überrascht?

the two weeks i'll be spending alone,
i don' think i'll be switching
on the television...
if i only had a replacement
akin to a fireplace... or an aquarium...
no, **** that, i'll be drinking,
doing the house chores...
ironing shirts, vacuuming...

i woke today and started thinking...
maybe i should go gay...
literally: LITERALLY...
should i go full gay with a Greek...
last time at Fulham a Greek approached
me coyly... but adamantly...
he complimented me on my beard:
that i looked like a Greek Orthodox PRIEST...
that's what i'm saying...
maybe it might be easier to find
companionship among my fellow ***
if the opposite *** is so ******* opposed:
or rather hides symptoms of ugly
***... choking, strangling... ugh... too much
of too little to begin with...

and why is it that whenever i talk to
people i'm always experiencing
a ******* confession.... huh?!
why are people so open around me?
am i, one-dimensional?
of course i'm teasing the narrative...
i'm teasing the narrative because i know
that i have the one currency most people
don't have: truthfulness...

i'll be Thor in my youth and Odin
on my deathbed...
i already stated...
crows in England fly in a couple...
there's Huginn... there's Muninn...
or if there's only one flying: it's most certainly Huginn...
i.e. will... motivation...

there's too big an undercurrent of a cultural
retrospective happening in Europe
to find oneself Christian...
pagan music...
               enough, is enough...
the biggest troll of the Semites that
******* Lord of the Mosquitos: turning blood
into wine or vice versa... whatever...
the Hebrews have reclaimed their homeland...
or else: they're in North America...

sure... what's the consequence?
Pakistani "invaders"... paedophiles...
Saudi limp-**** fetishists...
gimps... fair enough: if that's the sort of thing
that floats your boat...
how long can a city in a *******
desert survive? 100 years? i give them...
100 years before the prophecy akin
to ***** & Gomorrah comes around...
100 years... sure... have your fun!
please, by all means due... have your fun!
i need to watch it... so that when i die
i'll by dying with a rare sort of comfort
of having predicted the future...

Nick? oh, that ******* from school... Nicholas...
i do hope he ended up living in Australia,
although... the thought of moving to either
Canada, the FSA (federal states of America,
they were never united, were they?),
Australia, New Zealand... eh?! what the ****?!
move there, to the penal colony?
i'd rather ******* to the Kamchatka Peninsula...
see a volcano explode every forthnoight
or something...

          freedom and democracy was something
the west was selling other people of this hearth
for much too long... now look where these people are?
in a ******* grammatical pickle...
just like the nobility at the height of
the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth...
it's sort of easy... shooting yourself in the foot...
what the **** have you allowed to be done
to your language? it really takes a foreigner to keep
up your ******* affairs?! seriously?!

one wasn't expecting such affairs to unfold...
but then: one wasn't expecting to remain
on these isles... are we agreed upon, that this sort of feels...
quasi-real?

i must be daydreaming...
there's no other explanation...
even if i begged a reply of Horace...
i'd get a jumbled reply filled with holes
and metaphors...

O menschen! was haben sie gar?

one thing is for sure...
the A on my QWERTY
is almost rubbed out...
   implying? am i going to suddenly convert
to the cult of Allah?
all?                 ah!
that bit?         ha ha...
or maybe that the vowel A is the most
used letter in the vowel category...
idiots write rules for idiots to follow...
someone else writes some ******* for
some people to feel a whole load of *******
about: everyone else...

i guess i'm in the latter category...
why would i care... i can forget about this little
project of mine when i go to the brothel
and when i play out the role of a steward
at a football stadium...
when i mind children and when i mind
old men...
oh man... that recent death at Fulham
crippled my heart for about 10 minutes...
but it most certainly helped me
forget Gemma for those 10 minutes...
i still can't forget her...
i love mad *******... the more problematic they
are the more i'm hard-on for them...
they have to be ****** up:
proper... both in the **** and the head
for me to get some magnetism from
them...
i don't do safe, i don't to sterile...
i don't do armchair opposite *** types...
like i already stated:
here's me thinking about going GAY...

but no... i couldn't stomach TRANS...
gay i can stomach...
two guys with beards kissing i can do...
it's ancient...
why would trans-phobia be categorised
as an "irrational" fear?
can't one possess a rational fear
of being deceived?!
that's like... the whole crux of / on the basis
of the experience / concept of reality and "reality", no?!

well, i'm thinking: go full gay or
just court the mad *******...
otherwise... ******* to the brothel whenever you feel like,
esp. when grooming your cats and the female
is gearing up her backside at you...
o.k., you know what, cat...
   i'm going to dive for that fleshy oyster
i'm, not, going, to properly, eat!