microcosm at the end of the garden, micro-dosing whiskey and a joints: tobacco and green anger the one to subdue in the pockets of anxiety attacks - that can be channeled into a focus - all those people on chemo anxiety blockers at least with the green anger and the fire water managed to intellectualise in focus - equivalent to: painting - if done by solo venture of scribble scrabble 'n' 'sum ... threat of violins falling and slicing in the rain (demonic) slicing water and sound and the sound of water and the sound of fire and the sound of air and the sound of the hearth... nights days nights days i spent listening to the four orchestras of the elements: water had waves of the sea and the skies of the seas falling as rain... the grand kidney of god that is this earth god is filtering equivalent to men censoring each other other... Edie will love another, Edyta will love another but the whole legality business visas H-1B plenty of unskilled security men out there so 1 - 0 to the locals... marriage visa? now thanks to Martin's judgement i will sooner inherit my grandmother's apartment with a glorious view of a cemetery.... from the balcony... and then this house in essex this little island of abode brooding... in exchange for a life on Kauai? her doubts her words her disqualification of self that she's 18 years apart in bodies... we are 18 bodies apart... aparts... a partitioning of sigma the splitting of the soul not by ****** but under the guise of the many loving expressions... i have lived a life since September 2023 when i traveled to the island of Kauai to meet a girl for the first time since i talked to her mother... i was also looking for a transcendental father... a father of transcendentalism: no, so no, not my mythological father - yes: because i am currently living with my biological father and mother and by extension the Elephant Phantom Martin and my grandmother... so elaborate: from September 2023 on a writing hiatus... brought them back Edie and Reyla to London and Reyla ****** me off for not wanting to go and see the Phantom of the Opera... now in the background a Hanz Zimmer crescendo from the Dune soundtrack... mini puncture and now by marriage... to say: by the duty of the wedded this monstrous wound of tongues licking eyes and gently using like worms into their last state of being veins of the sclera... a text from my nigerian next door neighbor... lived for 3 years like that like no woman no cry like that 3 years known to me casual formal... only a few days earlier been smoking and drinking on the roof overlooking the garden talking poetry and not talking poetry Ayo Ayo Ayo texting me now... i waffled back to him that he cought me in the middle of this composition this new groove established in infected and mushroom cancer in the brain we are born with a brain fungus a dormant brain fungus what is a parasite a cancer on a tree if not the evergreen mistletoe dormant fungus... brain... typing listening to music text from next door neighbor thinking that Edie will love again can love again loved in the past we are 18 bodies apart and so so just a one sided communication a barrier... the butterfly to caterpillar transition of... none other expected than a St and a Martin the ghoul the phantom the missing... the ego in the ego the self without self the id so... primitive man of pre-haunt of death most apparent to self and the shadow upon the curtain... a talk with self most relevant now: re-imagining what a good chromebook keyboard would feel like so protruding like an old nokia and the burners and what my poetry would be like without Edie and to find resolve i will have to reply: do you want me to stop writing forever? because that's what you would have to destroy... my mother could think that you killed her brother because you came and i didn't go to visit martin when grandmother was slowly killing him you heard me you saw me over the phone you heard when you heard me hear the message... could you have said? can you come with me to Poland blah blah... i don't know... but blood is blood and blood is blood and what's bothering me is family but in the end my mother blames my grandmother but i also thought about being blamed and who isn't to blame but Martin himself and i wonder how happy he is now that he has gone toward the ******* land of la li lo le ole and lulu or lullaby because i'm thinking about alcoholism as a zombie taboo crawling and ******* and frolicking in open wounded vowels like o cut up to u or i used for a hyphen and a dot to punctuate better to say a being stitched up to e to make the Adam and Eve monstrosity of Eden found in the Latin script... dated: some literary ****** just remembered that he used to write and so does... there were nights filled with fire there were nights filled with thoughts of women there were nights filled with fuckless women nights there were nights within nights there was chaos in order and order in chaos there was a dualism and a schizophrenia there was certainly god and madness and i was so almost killed by a friend of mine from high school a Samir... in Canterbury... try this other than **** spice this Chilean spice... SALVIA will make you see elephants and you riding elephants quickened hallucinations so smoked **** then toked the miracle... turns out my face slid to one side and i slouched into a dying fetal position... them giggling... until seriousness took over and they realized that i was not going to die... my impressions of a death party... death parties exist... i suppose in dark web lingo a death party involves at least 3 people... 2 people plan a ****** of someone by poisoning subtle: not like the case of brianna ****... scarlett jenkinson and eddie ratcliffe organised a death party... samir and mr jivandoo organised a death party by poisoning... to their horror and my own i am alive aged 38 should have been dead aged 21 should have... there were years in my calendar when writing that i would drink a liter of whiskey a night... i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night
what killed martin a bad death of still being alive? beer... manslaughter by grandmother? is it in her to be able to **** both husband and son because they were alcoholics? genuine questions... interlude for a cigarette and an auf wiedersehen (oꟻF vderzeen)
ꟻ: ah... remember to find Adam and Eve in the letters... diphthong... doip doip doup dupe dulla loop oop poo sssssss sss ssss sssss ss
s s s 5S5S5S5S5S5S did numbers really originate from the Raj and thanks be to the Arabs for our modern numbers?! b6b6b6 1I1I1I 3E3E3E 9P9P9P O0O0O0 7 Γ7 Γ7 Γ B8B8B8 2Z2Z2Z 4G4G4GQ
Q! Q! Q1 Q1 not G... i.e. 4Q
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A
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the Doppelganger Series of Portraits noses will be letters the mouth will always be the flat-line of expression status poker quo
($) ($)
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(£ hmm...
no... I looks good...
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(Beelzebub... hashtag eyes).... song switched to type o negative's christian woman... but i quickly have to switch to the recent taylor swift song i heard today... tortured poets department... typewriter? like a tattooed labrador... lebrador labradoor chelsea hoes? labaradorable... no ******* body ooh what a sweet sing along... smoke and bears and chocolate bars smoking and golden retriever? cyclone of dehydration(s) this mouth this wake up 8am with summer...
indeed... the poem has exhausted itself with god-flow of needing to take a **** - switching to the memory of Jemminah and homemade wine and foster the people six next to me... or this is this is... this is a slowly pealed grape... this is a reflection on slowly peeling a single grape... the unusual request to return to a former writing habit or habit of the mind to spend an hour elsewhere... with one's own to one's own sense of self... and all the Wembley folks in security were hush hush and bothered about the Netflix documentary thinking there would be a story against the security teams if any... or rather to hear first rate accounts journalists would swarm the site post Euro Finals 2021 and ask us about any details well the film itself became more a documentary for anti racism... it was the most comprehensive and positive lesson in adhering to an anti racism focus... i was expecting that... the security personnel were actually praised... and there was a sense of empathy.... i recognized one face in the documentary: Lee, the son of the owner of Achilleus Security who's name is not Ralph not Romeo but probably Ricci... Italian connections if i were not mistaken... ooze.... hit the snooze before bed go down smoke dip mouth in some whiskers and beddie beddie bye bye.