May 2022
turning 36 the next day isn't easy, i was supposed
to tend to the eucalyptus tree today,
by tend i'm implying: trim it, curate it...
oddly enough i knew where the ladder was:
but apparently it's too windy to use...
so i said to her: gravity never fails...
i don't end up floating up... i'll just fall...
i never understood how women have
to mingle *** with pain from time to time...
next time she asks me about my scars
on my knuckles... i'll tell her to snort that
******* of hers while i smoke a cigarette
and then put it out on my pinky knuckle
without flinching...
*** and pain don't mix... not in my "dictionary",
i treat *** like two mollusks...
having evolved to invest their shells
and get some backbone and elbows and knees...
perfect example of what i'm talking about?
the song: pain by boy harsher...
turn off the light... no! in the brothel it's always
under dim lighting... with mirrors...
and sure as **** not under the bed sheets
in a sweat cocoon... we're not ashamed of
our bodies...
so i found the ladder... i too found that secateur
on a spear... every time i use it
i think of gerimannoz... no... ****... that's too early...
those spearmen belonged to the great migration
period to the tribe of the Suebi...
i mean those spears... no... pikes!
the reisläufer and landsknechte... well i found
that secateur... but some branches are too thick...
i need a handsaw...
what came later was an explosion of superlatives
of the most debased language imaginable...
my mother tongue woke up and started making
oaths... KURVA... PIERDOLONA MAĆ etc.
ŚCIANA KLEPTOMANII!
one thing on top of another...
my father can lecture me on a lot of things:
but certainly not on keeping order...
a wall of kleptomania... one thing blocking
another thing...
i need the ******* handsaw!
and like i said to my mother after i gave up:
it would be pointless to sieve through all this crap
just to find one tool...
sure... i can find about 5 hammers...
what am i going to do? hammer a branch down?!
that's what i call curse / oath / profane words...
urywniks -
kurva is an urywnik - which stems
from przerywnik: cut-scene...
and also from the word: urwać: break off...
rip off...
when you become so angry that you start
cursing and forget yourself / rip yourself off
from your self... and there's a reason why
that's not compounded... the your from self
detached... it's almost a loosely associated sense
of reflection: not the reflexive yourself
but the reflective your self,
but at the same time lost to fury... havoc...
it's not that my father is a hoarder...
that i can sort of understand, but that this one tool:
the handsaw... is obstructed by unnecessary things
stacked in an idiotic way...
work: obstructed... what am i going to do with
the rest of my day?
return that ****** black tie to Marks & Spencers...
because i need a clip-on tie and i don't exactly
feel like being tugged my a proper tie in
the event that i meet violence... in a stadium...
i even started to think: well the keyboard isn't
there to easily access the diacritical markers of
my native language... what if i just play the Hebrew
and hide the diacritical marks
(not out of laziness) but like the Hebrews
hide their vowels...
although: that's ******* debatable... considering that
i'm suspicious of the following in
the Ktav Ashuri:
א - it's given equal status among consonants:
but it's also a vowel...
where's the Eva equivalent?
there isn't... there's only that story of
the two Adams of Eden:
ע - ayin and aleph...
because how did life start? sexless...
don't even get me started on the niqqud...
now: if i were to write the name of the Islamic
god in Hebrew, how would i write it?
i'd white it as follows:
אללעה
that's how logic words:
take the Greek alphabet...
the rule of the PREXIX-suffix when given
names to atoms that are letters...
αLPHA... you have a name for a letter...
but you strip the letter of its name and you're left
with just the letter...
to build words with...
Σigma - likewise: the -igma drops off and you're
left with Sssssss.... (Y) - serpents in trees...
so what do you get with the noun: aleph?
a-leph... ergo... a vowel given the same status as
a consonant... kametz and the patach are the vowel
A... but treated as diacritical marks...
the "degraded" to status of the niqqud -
since vowels are seen as feminine...
while consonants are seen as masculine...
on the simple basis: ** and XY...
a vowel is free-standing...
**... while a consonant requires a stacking...
RA... otherwise... sure... you could turn R into
a vowel... but it would be a trilling of the tongue...
a rattlesnake sound...
you could turn M into a vowel...
but your mouth would have to be closed
and you'd have to hum the M...
oh ****! consonants can be vowels...
but your mouth has to be closed to turn them into
vowels!
- i rarely dream, but today i woke up from a dream,
like i already mentioned: every day is a birthday,
i go to bed, sleep, rarely dream... wake up:
born "again"...
i was searching the meaning of the name Linda
yesterday... originally 'linde': ref. to the the lime tree...
don't ask me why...
but the dream wasn't visual...
it was: auditory...
only with a blink of the eye
upon waking and quickly closing it did i conjure
up what i heard...
i was talking to someone about the etymology of
words regarding chess pieces...
a mix of English and Polish and: clearly a third language
because... thinking back on it...
the etymology didn't make sense...
the names of chess pieces in English:
king bishop
queen knight
rook pawn
the names of chess pieces in Polish:
król skoczek
hetman wieża
goniec (laufr) pionek
(mind you, these rubrics are mixed up,
they're not like for like)
why is the hetman not a "queen": not damą
(potocznie) - as it was referenced to keep
with the vogue of the English tongue?
and how many women in the past
ever waged wars, beside Joan of Arc?
point being... the topic was about the bishop...
it turn out we were talking
about the term bishop originating in:
rolling barrel...
the laufr: lauframi...
giermek... someone who used to run in front of
someone's carriage: or rather: läufer...
properly... i.e. lauframi gives only 1,240 results
in google...
but lauframi potocznie gives 7,120 results...
and the proper term: läufer and not laufr...
since lauframi is plural... and the correct way
to cut out the plural would be to say: laufr...
without saying the word in Niemy...
i had to change around
lauframow nocleg
into lauframov nocleg to get a google-whack...
a 1 result search... but it's not like in the good-old-days...
now that single search result
is hidden among about 5 different advertisements...
you're better off with 2 results... which is the former
with the W rather than the V...
well... anyway... this has been the most vivid
exclusively audible dream i've ever had...
it's jumbled by that third language i can't decipher:
rolling barrel... no... wait:
it wasn't even the word rolling...
certainly: baryla - i.e. baryła...
or even the diminutive baryłka...
hopping? jumping...
the prefix: dam... dum...
biskup... that's bishop in Polish...
the third language: in dream-world context:
i don't think it was even a human language...
how did i come to this point in life:
i must have written (yesterday) that...
(while) walking through a *** desert
you become less and less thirsty as you walk further
without ***...
you turn your attention to things like:
die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft -
a Teutonic crusader song...
after the death of Barbarossa... funny how he
died... did that pickled ginger reach
Jerusalem in that barrel of his?
did they pickle him or sustain his
body in... oh no... wait... medieval man...
well... apparently circa 1430 a(n)
Isidore from Chudov Monastery
discovered *****... Isidore...
now: i didn't give consent to being baptised...
i sure as **** didn't give consent to being
confirmed: i'm not confirmed...
i'm an apostate: last time i heard...
Richard Dawkins has been confirmed...
atheist on a whim... i made my mind a long long
time ago... even if i met "god": i'd be running
to the devil to get the whole picture...
but if i were given the privilege of being confirmed
what was that name i was thinking of?
that third name? Isidore...
anyway... barrel... Barbarossa... barta-blondine...
blonde moustache: that's me... i still don't understand
why my grandmother used to call it ginger...
then again: she used to call drinking beer
ingesting "empty calories"...
she never learned to ride a bicycle or swim...
what diacritical marker would you use on the ιota
to morph it into an e? so that barta-blondine
would become ala-dean?
i.e. the -e would become an optional (e)?
i'm thinking... macron...
barta-blondιn... wait wait... maybe that's it!
why is the hovering "halo" above the i and j even
necessary? surely there's no aesthetic improvement
if it was simply ι & ȷ:
clearly you can easily confuse uppercase I with
a lowercase l and lowercase L with 1...
i'll just do the Hebrew from now on...
if my native tongue will spring up i'll just avoid
using the diacritical marks...
sort of hide them... not on purpose: perhaps on purpose...
too much fiddly bits and bobs...
oh hell: my throat is dry... i need some wine...
i shouldn't have added that tease of pink gin
into my coffee... well you know what they say...
even a little bit of gin in your coffee is better
than no coffee at all... sorry: gin...
maybe that's why those girls simply:
never stick... around...
i need something tremendous to wake my libido up...
last time i went on for several years without
getting intimate... but when my libido was woken:
and woken it was by grooming my female cat:
she raised her **** into my face because
i touched all the right spots... that was it...
i was cycling like mad through London trying
to avoid the one brothel i knew...
obviously i ended up going there...
lucky for me the prostitutes changed...
where i met Khedra... i want to see her again so bad
but i don't feel like underperforming....
there's no need...
i need to get the mood... the mood...
i want to get thirsty:
and i tried not watching ******* to "wake up"
from being some "docile" whatever...
1 month sober: nope... that doesn't work either...
plus jerking off helps when you're constipated or
whatever bowel problems you have...
sure thing... ******* and water...
or water and the back of your neck...
or your scalp... that tonsure region: the kippah aqua
hot-spot... or... the occipital bone... + water...
streaming down... good thing i have my *******...
that i wasn't mutilated by religious orthodoxy...
if i didn't have my *******: in some societies
i'd probably have a wife...
a wife that would have a hard time divorcing me...
save your foreskins! for god's sake!
or... whoever's sake...
no no: i get it... her past relationships... she was
playing the whole gimmick of Laurence... ****...
that's the Arabian guy...
Florence Nightingale: night-tin-gale...
she was trying to make these poor, broken men...
better...
one being a woman and child boxer...
another abandon-er... another a ******* stiff-y...
me? oh shh shh... i drink a little write just as little
turn completely cuckoo in silence
make my own wine bake my own cakes...
she couldn't figure me out: she ****** off when
she realised she couldn't improve me...
that i wasn't going to play the role:
her son's older brother...
i need to get my mojo back...
i feel like doing what i used to do:
hang around the brothel and rub my fingertips
on harsh coarse bricks before going in and touching...
pouches of flab and muscle and hidden bone...
too much of *** leaves nothing to the imagination...
i need to find my oasis: my fata morgana of an oasis (even)...
but first i need to shed off at least 2kg from the current
100kg i'm on... sure sure... it's more muscle than
anything... but i need to feel leaner...
but first... some wine...
to tend to the eucalyptus tree today,
by tend i'm implying: trim it, curate it...
oddly enough i knew where the ladder was:
but apparently it's too windy to use...
so i said to her: gravity never fails...
i don't end up floating up... i'll just fall...
i never understood how women have
to mingle *** with pain from time to time...
next time she asks me about my scars
on my knuckles... i'll tell her to snort that
******* of hers while i smoke a cigarette
and then put it out on my pinky knuckle
without flinching...
*** and pain don't mix... not in my "dictionary",
i treat *** like two mollusks...
having evolved to invest their shells
and get some backbone and elbows and knees...
perfect example of what i'm talking about?
the song: pain by boy harsher...
turn off the light... no! in the brothel it's always
under dim lighting... with mirrors...
and sure as **** not under the bed sheets
in a sweat cocoon... we're not ashamed of
our bodies...
so i found the ladder... i too found that secateur
on a spear... every time i use it
i think of gerimannoz... no... ****... that's too early...
those spearmen belonged to the great migration
period to the tribe of the Suebi...
i mean those spears... no... pikes!
the reisläufer and landsknechte... well i found
that secateur... but some branches are too thick...
i need a handsaw...
what came later was an explosion of superlatives
of the most debased language imaginable...
my mother tongue woke up and started making
oaths... KURVA... PIERDOLONA MAĆ etc.
ŚCIANA KLEPTOMANII!
one thing on top of another...
my father can lecture me on a lot of things:
but certainly not on keeping order...
a wall of kleptomania... one thing blocking
another thing...
i need the ******* handsaw!
and like i said to my mother after i gave up:
it would be pointless to sieve through all this crap
just to find one tool...
sure... i can find about 5 hammers...
what am i going to do? hammer a branch down?!
that's what i call curse / oath / profane words...
urywniks -
kurva is an urywnik - which stems
from przerywnik: cut-scene...
and also from the word: urwać: break off...
rip off...
when you become so angry that you start
cursing and forget yourself / rip yourself off
from your self... and there's a reason why
that's not compounded... the your from self
detached... it's almost a loosely associated sense
of reflection: not the reflexive yourself
but the reflective your self,
but at the same time lost to fury... havoc...
it's not that my father is a hoarder...
that i can sort of understand, but that this one tool:
the handsaw... is obstructed by unnecessary things
stacked in an idiotic way...
work: obstructed... what am i going to do with
the rest of my day?
return that ****** black tie to Marks & Spencers...
because i need a clip-on tie and i don't exactly
feel like being tugged my a proper tie in
the event that i meet violence... in a stadium...
i even started to think: well the keyboard isn't
there to easily access the diacritical markers of
my native language... what if i just play the Hebrew
and hide the diacritical marks
(not out of laziness) but like the Hebrews
hide their vowels...
although: that's ******* debatable... considering that
i'm suspicious of the following in
the Ktav Ashuri:
א - it's given equal status among consonants:
but it's also a vowel...
where's the Eva equivalent?
there isn't... there's only that story of
the two Adams of Eden:
ע - ayin and aleph...
because how did life start? sexless...
don't even get me started on the niqqud...
now: if i were to write the name of the Islamic
god in Hebrew, how would i write it?
i'd white it as follows:
אללעה
that's how logic words:
take the Greek alphabet...
the rule of the PREXIX-suffix when given
names to atoms that are letters...
αLPHA... you have a name for a letter...
but you strip the letter of its name and you're left
with just the letter...
to build words with...
Σigma - likewise: the -igma drops off and you're
left with Sssssss.... (Y) - serpents in trees...
so what do you get with the noun: aleph?
a-leph... ergo... a vowel given the same status as
a consonant... kametz and the patach are the vowel
A... but treated as diacritical marks...
the "degraded" to status of the niqqud -
since vowels are seen as feminine...
while consonants are seen as masculine...
on the simple basis: ** and XY...
a vowel is free-standing...
**... while a consonant requires a stacking...
RA... otherwise... sure... you could turn R into
a vowel... but it would be a trilling of the tongue...
a rattlesnake sound...
you could turn M into a vowel...
but your mouth would have to be closed
and you'd have to hum the M...
oh ****! consonants can be vowels...
but your mouth has to be closed to turn them into
vowels!
- i rarely dream, but today i woke up from a dream,
like i already mentioned: every day is a birthday,
i go to bed, sleep, rarely dream... wake up:
born "again"...
i was searching the meaning of the name Linda
yesterday... originally 'linde': ref. to the the lime tree...
don't ask me why...
but the dream wasn't visual...
it was: auditory...
only with a blink of the eye
upon waking and quickly closing it did i conjure
up what i heard...
i was talking to someone about the etymology of
words regarding chess pieces...
a mix of English and Polish and: clearly a third language
because... thinking back on it...
the etymology didn't make sense...
the names of chess pieces in English:
king bishop
queen knight
rook pawn
the names of chess pieces in Polish:
król skoczek
hetman wieża
goniec (laufr) pionek
(mind you, these rubrics are mixed up,
they're not like for like)
why is the hetman not a "queen": not damą
(potocznie) - as it was referenced to keep
with the vogue of the English tongue?
and how many women in the past
ever waged wars, beside Joan of Arc?
point being... the topic was about the bishop...
it turn out we were talking
about the term bishop originating in:
rolling barrel...
the laufr: lauframi...
giermek... someone who used to run in front of
someone's carriage: or rather: läufer...
properly... i.e. lauframi gives only 1,240 results
in google...
but lauframi potocznie gives 7,120 results...
and the proper term: läufer and not laufr...
since lauframi is plural... and the correct way
to cut out the plural would be to say: laufr...
without saying the word in Niemy...
i had to change around
lauframow nocleg
into lauframov nocleg to get a google-whack...
a 1 result search... but it's not like in the good-old-days...
now that single search result
is hidden among about 5 different advertisements...
you're better off with 2 results... which is the former
with the W rather than the V...
well... anyway... this has been the most vivid
exclusively audible dream i've ever had...
it's jumbled by that third language i can't decipher:
rolling barrel... no... wait:
it wasn't even the word rolling...
certainly: baryla - i.e. baryła...
or even the diminutive baryłka...
hopping? jumping...
the prefix: dam... dum...
biskup... that's bishop in Polish...
the third language: in dream-world context:
i don't think it was even a human language...
how did i come to this point in life:
i must have written (yesterday) that...
(while) walking through a *** desert
you become less and less thirsty as you walk further
without ***...
you turn your attention to things like:
die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft -
a Teutonic crusader song...
after the death of Barbarossa... funny how he
died... did that pickled ginger reach
Jerusalem in that barrel of his?
did they pickle him or sustain his
body in... oh no... wait... medieval man...
well... apparently circa 1430 a(n)
Isidore from Chudov Monastery
discovered *****... Isidore...
now: i didn't give consent to being baptised...
i sure as **** didn't give consent to being
confirmed: i'm not confirmed...
i'm an apostate: last time i heard...
Richard Dawkins has been confirmed...
atheist on a whim... i made my mind a long long
time ago... even if i met "god": i'd be running
to the devil to get the whole picture...
but if i were given the privilege of being confirmed
what was that name i was thinking of?
that third name? Isidore...
anyway... barrel... Barbarossa... barta-blondine...
blonde moustache: that's me... i still don't understand
why my grandmother used to call it ginger...
then again: she used to call drinking beer
ingesting "empty calories"...
she never learned to ride a bicycle or swim...
what diacritical marker would you use on the ιota
to morph it into an e? so that barta-blondine
would become ala-dean?
i.e. the -e would become an optional (e)?
i'm thinking... macron...
barta-blondιn... wait wait... maybe that's it!
why is the hovering "halo" above the i and j even
necessary? surely there's no aesthetic improvement
if it was simply ι & ȷ:
clearly you can easily confuse uppercase I with
a lowercase l and lowercase L with 1...
i'll just do the Hebrew from now on...
if my native tongue will spring up i'll just avoid
using the diacritical marks...
sort of hide them... not on purpose: perhaps on purpose...
too much fiddly bits and bobs...
oh hell: my throat is dry... i need some wine...
i shouldn't have added that tease of pink gin
into my coffee... well you know what they say...
even a little bit of gin in your coffee is better
than no coffee at all... sorry: gin...
maybe that's why those girls simply:
never stick... around...
i need something tremendous to wake my libido up...
last time i went on for several years without
getting intimate... but when my libido was woken:
and woken it was by grooming my female cat:
she raised her **** into my face because
i touched all the right spots... that was it...
i was cycling like mad through London trying
to avoid the one brothel i knew...
obviously i ended up going there...
lucky for me the prostitutes changed...
where i met Khedra... i want to see her again so bad
but i don't feel like underperforming....
there's no need...
i need to get the mood... the mood...
i want to get thirsty:
and i tried not watching ******* to "wake up"
from being some "docile" whatever...
1 month sober: nope... that doesn't work either...
plus jerking off helps when you're constipated or
whatever bowel problems you have...
sure thing... ******* and water...
or water and the back of your neck...
or your scalp... that tonsure region: the kippah aqua
hot-spot... or... the occipital bone... + water...
streaming down... good thing i have my *******...
that i wasn't mutilated by religious orthodoxy...
if i didn't have my *******: in some societies
i'd probably have a wife...
a wife that would have a hard time divorcing me...
save your foreskins! for god's sake!
or... whoever's sake...
no no: i get it... her past relationships... she was
playing the whole gimmick of Laurence... ****...
that's the Arabian guy...
Florence Nightingale: night-tin-gale...
she was trying to make these poor, broken men...
better...
one being a woman and child boxer...
another abandon-er... another a ******* stiff-y...
me? oh shh shh... i drink a little write just as little
turn completely cuckoo in silence
make my own wine bake my own cakes...
she couldn't figure me out: she ****** off when
she realised she couldn't improve me...
that i wasn't going to play the role:
her son's older brother...
i need to get my mojo back...
i feel like doing what i used to do:
hang around the brothel and rub my fingertips
on harsh coarse bricks before going in and touching...
pouches of flab and muscle and hidden bone...
too much of *** leaves nothing to the imagination...
i need to find my oasis: my fata morgana of an oasis (even)...
but first i need to shed off at least 2kg from the current
100kg i'm on... sure sure... it's more muscle than
anything... but i need to feel leaner...
but first... some wine...
