well... at least falling in love feels just as good
as being rejected...
i must be a hunchback or something...
                       not good enough:
not the right sort of: pump 'em 'n' dump 'em...
plus, get them pregnant...
not enough good enough boxer and a child-slapper...
well, fair enough...
it felt good for a while... as good as stomach
cramps go...
and as life goes....
   i think you can pull off a fu manchu moustache
and a long love patch... with a beard...
only if the former are blonde
   and the beard is dark ***** brown...
      fair enough... fair... enough...
                     back to the prostitutes i go...
i don't need this ****** roller-coaster...
back to the cold objectification of women...
less i feel the more i'll get... for what my body deems
necessary...
but i knew this was coming: oh how on earth
woudn't i have seen this coming?
i just said... well, you know... maybe me
and your son, Freddy, could learn German together...
and: oh for ****'s sake... i really like you!
i did't say love, i didn't say:
i want to sleep with you...
banana loaf i made? down the drain...
homemade wine? down the drain...
flowers on Valentine's day? down the drain...
ha... what's never down the drain?
£120 an hour for a *******... that's never down
the drain... that's somewhere else...
i'm suddenly the villain... she charges up
a conversation with: a 14 year old missing
in Rainham... apparently her cousin or something...
i told her i cycle to Rainham...
what? me? i kidnapped this kid?
why don't i care about the story...
when i'm trying to tell you i like you?!
if i were to care about all the people in the world...
have an emotional investment in their
down-trodden lives... i'd be subject
to a stampede in return!
i can't just... feel for someone!
                  there you are: trying to feel something
special, exclusive for someone...
while there she is... throwing the entire *******
world back at you!
she's playing her little games so bad
that i'm pretty sure these former, early,
glorious stomach cramps and butterflies will never,
return...
i've made up my mind...
        my eyes are a little bit foggy... my vision:
blurry... but i'm not crying... i'm refocusing myself...
i did say i was an idiot...
proven right, once more - and by whom?
myself...
           oh right... the eyes are back into focus...
i can return to my diacritical pet peeves & what not...
i guess i must have caught a bug
called in latin:
            in amor *** amor idea...
to be in love itself...
   in love with the idea of love...
because, hell... she was problematic from the get go...
i think i tried to delude myself thinking
i could love someone like her...
but if she has a kid... she's doing the mother-father
thing on her own... she's proud of her d.i.y.
antics... she swipes left and right on Tinder
in front of you... she's proud that her former
ex-boxer boyfriend clocks in with menacing
phone-calls on a Friday night...
   and she's happy about keeping him in the background:
even though he has a restraining order...
but she's still like: oh... what the hell...
now i see the bigger picture...
a guy, like me... free... no obligations apart those
to his family... cook, clean the house,
take out the garbage... writes... reads...
has a stash-load of books that would make
the local public library blush...
i'm... too complicated... she can't play me...
oh now i see the funny side...
     i can't be tamed...
i'm too spontaneous...
too erratic... now i see it: i just wanted to see
how far the rabbit-hole went before she
would inevitably bail out...
                          intellectual not high status enough...
needs that gilded cage...
bring in the doves with the budgies...
hell... sly a crow in there while you're at it!
she was already rigid in her ways...
i was just a welcome interruption...
little did she know...
i get my kicks from shadier places...
with shadier women...
  cheap thrill... thanks for the feelings...
all my own...
                               now scuttle back into your little
asylum of a life...
only today, while i was feeding my male
maine **** some fine turkey fillets...
i noticed his fur vibrate around his neck...
he was so excited / pleased & i was like...

   oh **** me...             PREDATOR!
not the sort of mimic rattle... but very much... akin...
i own a bonsai predator!
i never appreciated the xenomorph aesthetic...
i always sided with the predators...
krrr... whatever it is that the sound they make...
cats are close...
plus... like household plants... feed them...
water them once a week... and wait for them to make
advances for attention... otherwise...
oh... joy... they sleep... you just get to ignore them:
you do you, while they do them...

unlike women... do you really have to be cruel
in order for them to stick around?
are prostitutes the only women around these days
where you can play the classical roles of
a man? being tender, kissing, holding hands?
seriously?! sickness... i see the sickness is no
longer spreading... it's just well established...

again... what's missing? a 6 figure earning summary?
but why would i want to earn 6 figures...
if i only spend... the lowest possible mention
of 5?
         eh? save up? for what? a funeral at St. Paul's?!
well yeah... i earn in the frugal category...
i'm not going to earn more if i'm not having
to spend more... why earn more?
i don't see the sense of earning more than
i might spend...
and since i spend less than i earn
therefore i: earn enough... to spend enough...

no, it's a good thing... i could see too much longing
in that kids eyes... oh... another douschebag trying
to get it on with my mother...
o.k. Oedipus... o.k. Oedipal mother...
c'est la vie! c'est la vie!
  i too made my own bed...
              i'll gladly sleep in it...
i guess i sort of have to...
if he's the kid who has to take care of his hormonally
psychotic "aunt" of a mother...
well... all the better... vita non mea!
VITA NON MEA!

wow... what a relief! she spread rumours...
i could see on the last shift, the other "conspiring" girls
stood back keeping a distance...
i did say... the old proverb stands...
lies have short legs...
serpent...
                  no... don't tell her... that i know...
wait a while... she's do damage to herself...
and at first sight... oh my, oh my my my, my...
how i wanted to love her...

but the amount of crap i heard about her...
knife throwing was one of her speciality...
if a guy she's dating has to walk out of the house,
drink a whole bottle of wine...
and some beers... in  span of 20 minutes...
well... perhaps that's good of her:
telling me what i'm to expect if she has
one of her Oedipal-Mother tantrums...
like all single mothers with sons must go
through: to get back t the "patriarchy"...

damaged goods... like i said...
i love how some of these phrases sound in
Latin: oculus per oculus... an eye for an eye...
Latin, as a tongue... wasn't big of prepositions...
or conjunctions...
maybe there's  built-in safety-mechanism
with people who might cause you trouble... harm...
at least they're honest... they tell you upfront...
i.e. i'm capable of this... are you mad enough
to go any further... and ****... i was willing...

i was in love with the idea of love...
amor per se...
unlike a res per se: the Kantian noumenon...
of course the noumenon has no existence
to carve out man's intelligence...
we're talking amor per se...
res per se... das ding an sich...
we're talking Kierkegaard and the subliminity
of subjectivity: not as a vantage point
lesser to that of objectivism...
by being subjective implying:
in a storm... you're subjected to the storm's
"demands"... i am being subjected to something...
storm, the queen of England...
subjectivity is... unquestionable...
while objectivity... doesn't it...
question itself? ad nauseam?!

       that's why i prefer subjectivity...
in line of thought... in measure of assurance...
in the labyrinths of the narrative...
there's always more... less chance to come across
a cul de sac of "ideas"... anemic paraphrasing
by my estimate...
but hey... you never been to the dark alleys
with the Turkish or Romanian prostitutes...
your loss... not mine...
i'm done thinking i can idealise an English girl
as a bride... she can ******* to the Pakistani grooming
gangs...

             what?! that's not where most of them go, to?
oh, right... the pump  & dump schemes...
leave them on welfare...
               or... the types that box their *******
about... i'm not going to level myself to a standard
of barbarism in order to get laid... sorry... no...
but in the kid's eyes all i saw was...
i want to play Lego with you...

terribly sorry... Oedipus... Jocasta said: no...
this is the one and only time i tried
to attempt being a foster parent...
next time? no chance in hell...
i tried... in vain... well... that's one more vanity
project over & done with...
i wasn't here for her ****...
i wasn't here for her looks... her looking...
and cleaning skills...
she already had it figured out:
she doesn't need a man...
she doesn't... but... looking at the kid...
i'm pretty ******* sure he needs three-dimensionality
of being raised up...
obviously tarantula mama doesn't see it,
won't see... will die not regretting it...
but... come on!

at least someone who read more than 10 books in
his life... or... a ******* newspaper on a Sunday...
but like i told her already...
i'm Pontius Pilate at this moment...
i'm washing my hands, clean,
of this affair... i'm done...
another lost soul raised by the man-hating:
closer to Eden you come...
the further from heaven you shall become...

oh **** me, why am i complaining?!
i've just been about to barked at by a rottweiler,
bitten by a tiger...
shot stone cold by a **** sharpshooter...
yet i arrived on the playing field
unscathed like a Rasputin: after this 6th of
7th death... well... at least she was honest...
she was saying: you're pristine...
i don't want to touch you... get away from me!
get away from me! don't come too close!

well... c'est la vie! i don't mind, either way...
you lied about me once, tried to get me
fired... you'll lie a second time...
good enough that i managed to wriggle
in the tease... the carrot...
now look at you... stupid girl...
trouble with mad women trying to play
madmen... yeah...
that ol' chestnut! ha ha! ha ha! ah ha ha ha ha!

ich kommen sie mit die nacht...
ich kommen sie mit die stille...
   ich kommen sie mit der wind...
ich kommen sie ohne dich...
ich kommen allein...
             ich verlassen: allein...
ich bin allein:
ich bin... einsamkeit:                  FREI!