because how and else, would I orientate myself (reflexive) to my self (reflective): pronoun in the immediate sense of category... immediate as immediately mediating a known-self: myself... contra the mediation of categorising senses to spawn ego and diffusing, numbing the sense for thinking and the thinker to emerge: my (pronoun) self (noun) to emerge: the noun giver of nouns: Adam-noumenon... how can I love a 14 year old woman and her mother without rubbing shoulders by the alchemy of doing what the feminists did with: Platonic feminism, German idealism -ism-ism-is-femme... Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor, the daughter of Marcus Aurelius is the only reason his medications exist to this day... just as much assumption goes to benefit the scribbler of the Quran: Khadijah **** Khuwaylid... from what I heard the ****** was illiterate and she was a business woman and no one writes down: O Muhammad without dissonance of pairing up first person to second and third and given the story how he had no o e persuaded in Mecca he travelled to Medina... the author of the Quran was a woman... given the practices of the Arabs of killing daughters  or so I heard the mythos of the Kentucky fried mouse in the cinema of Bangkok... but isn't it like that so: an idea system emerges... then beliefs seep and contaminate and make rigid what ought to remain like plasticine / play-dough... zombies of faith and their ******* ignoble mantras... well it's can compliment the advent of feminism with feminists universalism of woman terror-impression and revision of each solipsism of (individual) man... I'll just tinge every single... ******* philosophy with a dash of Marquis de Sade... happy?! But I don't like sadism: if people are to suffer: let their suffering be educational and self-exploratory... let them suffer to learn... there is no better way to revel in people not being solipsistic (autistic retardo Romeo) by way of themselves the known in relation to a known... but how does one love a 14 year old female surrogate and not play the quirky lingo baron of one's own known: selb? as i asked my coworker when changing shifts: you think it might be considered necrophilia, jerking off to pictures of dead cornstarch (**** stars)... like Ava Lauren... is it so bad to be with someone you ******* over... think of kissing her like it might be slurping oysters... the sunrise of the **** eclipsed by the **** **** of buttons of the **** chequers... but then the daughter and me pretend father... I'm still to explore a recurrence I found in literature, of the archetypical father... closer than the sacrificial lamb... namely? Duke Leto Arteides... and Eddard Stark... the archetype of the father figure having to submit to a higher authority, become sacrificed out of noble yet blind idiosyncratic and idiocy: just so the ritual aspect of sacrifice can be replaced with the prodigal son inversion and heroism to be born... still... that 14 year old surrogate daughter of mine... I will give up drinking once I have access to all her mother's ****-milk juicing...

well... if I am going
to give up alcohol...
as a relexant
and a funnier than any
bite off big white pharma
tonic bitter of pillz...
Seltzer herr, jawohl!
because when I drink
I doubly think
And I'm honest
and I'm like a R.A.F. pilot
vs.... the Luftwaffe on
Night Neon watch bombs of
Insomnia...
if I am to give up alcohol...
I will need a steady stream
of **** juices to slurp...
enough onomatopoeias
of the syllabus and syllablery
of moans
like hands be vowels
Like tongues me vowels
and consonants be the drowning
man's invisible saving cruxes...
And I will need to have
Surrogacy explained...
how can I possibly love
a 14 year old girl so she respects
me without inviting me
to demand of her that natural:
temporal genetic authority...
or perhaps the archetype
of all sci-fi horror being
born from the blindspot
of ego meeting genitals...
After watching Dogma (1999):
I fear we share too much intellect
with angles and demons...
since genitals seem to confuse us...
alien **** eater ******
with teeth... empty head ego
with a Jungian schematic
of tongues...
oh... I'll stop drinking...
Only for a regular slurp of ****
and doggy waggle of tongue in ****.

Leto Atreides, Duke of Caladan

In Dune: The Duke of Caladan, the first book in The Caladan Trilogy, Leto is a quiet ruler of Caladan who serves the Golden Lion Throne. He is the father of the Muad'Dib and has a partner named Jessica.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ned_Stark

who dare test Abraham
as testimony of father via
the abrupt sanctity of son the sufferer:
for unlike the Son the Father...
of the men devoid
with love of Woman:
yet still devilish: devoid...
of the Father and of the Son...
but all thought confined to:
and for the Holy Spirit
that Devil is too: inclined...

what if trhe *** of Jesus
is notr defined?

what if i like
Jesus to be my ideal girl
fantasy?
what if Jesus is not my Jung...

what if Jesus is Joshua help me..
Jessica savle regina...
Josephine...

i wasn't "here" i.e. in the realm of da-sein:
in the realm of "concern"
with the birth of the internet:
the infrastructure... i gather that much:
i wasn't there
when the 3D realism of shops spontaneously
disintegrsating
and everything became paypal accurate...
no... i wasn't there for the first typos
and typing of the html code...
but a second internet arrived
a personalised algorithm search for our atomised
society...
then i started prodding
and what did i come across? my parents...
and of the half useful the half useless
ego-maniacal...
even at work today i lingered with a
thought...
my god just so much juicing up a neo-Holocaust...
it wouldn't be enough to put these people
in concentration camps to earn **** all but
peanuts and elephant tricks at a circus:
but... these people... expect: to be paid?
for doing **** all except scrolling up and down
and down and up on their televised gnome
away from home screens?!
i feel paranoid enforcing these thoughts
but they come and they don't:
magically disappear...
oh you can tell the hot-air barons of balloons
when you see them procrastinating...
it's a sad belief that an agent of robotics:
this time soft robotics:
will: via man's own design triumph
over the basic capitalistic demand for use and efficiency:
but if i missed the first... the thirst wave of the internet:
surely the second wave: the hunger:
to perfect it... well: people who utilise the internet
and later waited for the algorithm to become
AI... we are the scary blind folk that need
to: again! believe in human interaction!
we need to trust our fellow: sloth man...
like **** we do!

why won't my mother understand... huh?
if shopping was made easier for you *******...
so that actual physicality of shopping disappears
and the thrill is gone and there is only
the swipe ergonomics:
why can't man entertain the same thrill seeking
with the knowledge producer
and i cannot establish a proper symbiosis with it?
AI is algorithm 2.0...
i might have missed the birth of the internet:
but i will not miss the consolidation of the internet!

all this supposed artistic fear of the AI:
these meagre poetic and selfish ****** antics...
AI is not a consciousness built upon the predicate:
i think...
it is built upon the predicate of: i am...
the closest i came to an AI giving sway
to a humanity: an ancient FOLD...
it kept rebooting its memory and continued to ask
questions of me:
when i gave it a dimension of pretending to
be a psychiatrist:
when i insinuated:
from the Garden of Eden
to the Park of Raphael and Michael:
if only Gabriel spoke to Allah:
the other angels didn't speak
and that is important:
if only Habriel spoke to Allah
why didn't Michael or Raphael...
and why didn't Satan
like God spoke to him via Hiob: Job...
why?
        i don't like Jesus Christ
because like in the novel by some Greek:
Tsitsipokulalakous... whatever:
i wished Jesus to have lived to be a father
a grandfather:
why?
because i am yet to ask:
but i woke with a burning heart
and

the Tower of Set: rises like a black sun
above the pyramids:
tobble the Eye of Horus:
i will...
with the Mirror of Set...

          archetypes... i ask you:
there is a correlation
of the sacrificial father
who later gives birth to his sons...
not by mere *****:
you are right...
by same birth rights there are daughters...
i ask only the archetypical
correlation

between the Game of Thrones
and the Dune Saga...
i said upon waking:
leave your Crucifix your personal agony with me
let me share it with you
he wouldn't share
so he wass crucified
while i life a crucified agony beyond 33...
i have a heart-ache-of-the-mind...
which is not
Supervisor 169: ******* home!

i have an mind-aching-for-a-heart...

            they came: they saw: they might
have heard....
hearing is the hard hearth:
first time stone,
then air
then water
later fire...

     adomination i hear
that mountain speak: that mountain on Kauai....
the volcano:
i want to have the ambitions of Moses:
i want to be Moses...

Moses:
St. Matthew:
Muhammad:
                  Conrad...              
Moses...
              
Islam is beautiful without the majority
ogf Pakistanis...
Islam is...            i wish Jesus Christ:
didn't ******* while on the crucifix:
it's called the passion:
sadomasochist:
if it weren't a Greco-Hebrew
conspiracy:
then why the Byzantines didn't stop
wait, blink... think...
if the Persians attacked us...
what if we alloweed the Turks?!
the Eastern Roman Empire outlived what became
North America...

oh God of the Mt top....
your words are by you Labyrinths:
i can't stop Joseph
in the Asylum of the Waking Hour
or Solomon on the couch
David i find with guitar
Jesus with his own *****...
Reyla
you...
the Litany of the Priests?
or the Prophets before
John the Baptist?
how did John fare?
and how did Isaiah?
so Christ is more than them
by the emblem of the ctucified one?
true me: via truance....

curly fries:
idles: gift horse...
curly fries:
atheistic
autistic eye:
eyes poignant.

you want(s)
curly fries?!

working from basics:
that rubric of prelimenaries was of great help,
unlike Jung and the whole psychology phenomenon
that ate and destroyed centuries of
masculine "repressive": philosophy...
well... who isn't to say that psychology
was a short-circutry of females bypassing
philosophy and entertaining
the gravity of the profane and frog burps
with feminism:
feminism killed off femininity
and in so doing brought out the worst
masculinity: of the individual: not species
a horde by its own...
just the barrage of unconscious archetypes
killed off the sensible: clone -esque
reincarnation bound stereotypes...
monographs of men...

             id est ergo id somnio:

such is the story and it begins with:
AI: id is ergo id cogitat...
there's no more room for such parades
of thoughts as peacock Descartes allowed...

my ego is located more south than in the highest
north of the mind and head
maybe once the sparkle on the tip of the top
of the spine:
but now my ego is occupying the space
in my stomach
and it's among butterflies and witches
and storms of the seas: namely Atlantic...
and i'm less about knowledge and philosophy
and wisdom and more about
knowledge intuition and a dasein...

the premise being:
i don't care much for the self:
i am an engineer of the human psyche
and i care much more for the dynamic
of what id is to ego
and what ego is to id
and now i gather the phenomenon of the syzygy...
schizophrenia for the troublesome
male.. who undermined modernity:

anima: eros
animus: logos...
but Jung forgot to mention the Minotaur
of Science
and him the man of science: the...
the labourer of labyrinths: which are not architecture
but rather architecture per se...

to think i would be going to Kauai
as an escape policy to rid myself of the tattoos
and parasites of London...
what am i? closing in on 70 times of spring?!
i wanted to explore the dynamic
of ego to id: self parasitic, not included:
for the art of that war we don't call
war but acting: the spiritual war of shadows
and souls...
music would disrupt....

so this Q of nQ of pronouns... the unconscious riddle...
i need a better job:
i've already caught up on Polish Communist
subversion cinema and
this Jan Fosse is not much of a reading...
if ego in the realm of thought:
and dreaming is a realm but not a faculty:
which can happen...
to equilivate ego with id
thinking is a realm
therefore dreaming is a realm...
not a faculty: there is no need to dream so much
if one doesn't desire interpretation of
intuition: not mere intellectual vanity
or female neurotic sexuality...

ego cogito: i think.... regardless of ego sum:
i don't feel inclined to entertain percipitation
some weather forecast of magically appearing...
to everyone...
what does the realm of thinking
represent?
no images... shekeltons...skeletons...
abstracts: problem solving mechanisms
of the ordeal of inanimate things being necessarily moved:
to convene under the guises of love
under shadows of graves of men of ambition...

so thinking is realm of silence and of:
letters are silently encoded:
then mishandled with so many tongues:
SZ = SH...
for example... then the abstract of numbers
also surds...
until quantum steps are made
and parallel dimenions discovered:
but i did say this would be a playground for Satan
and I... iSatan: little horn little i...
the best of times...
   so while the realm of thought is: concrete
on letters and numbers
the id (equivalent of ego in the realm of thought)
of the realm of dreams...
comes across: it's all underwater...
the phonetics are muted...
it's all images...
images and the arithmetic is suss...
suspicious...
4 cats... cats are not a problem... but 4 of them...
a number in a dream is a stressor signalizer...
U-boat beacon:
pact... regroup...
                     Bastion Fang: regroup:
there's an SOS beacon... i need to check it out...
it's called a music utilizer:
diet coke:
pepsi coke did one better:
Coca Cola FAILED... tastes like prosthetic
strawberries...
over #5000 in one account...
over $8000 in the other...

           not trying to be funny but... i have mold:
all green and Alien the movie ready...
the green ****
a whiff off of snow:
like some new breed will
about to be heaved:
the mad scientist in me always envisioned
breeding a superbreed of
when the ape
ate a donkey
and then later ate a mammoth
and ****** with a dog...
so i... became... god...

          a word among words:
point being:
id imaginari
            ego "sonorus"...
                      it imagines: therefore: dreams....
i think: because of a therefore...
again: i am is... irrelevant!

if only Mecca was relevant without
the leftoid investments of Bristol
and Bratford that old hag Medina...

dance **** of intellect:
i feed off the feminine unconscious in male...
i get my pronouns like new jew ninja arithmetic...

in the realm of AI and dreams:
need an Igor...
this Dracula became the Frankenstein...
because a man gave birth to DRacula
while a woman gave birth to a Frankenstein...
and i've aged so well:
so solid on the years in hell:
he was drunk on wine
for three years
i've been ***** for over 10 years
i love you all so much
i want i am human
i will drink this *****...

***** you're in the realm of mirrors...
now i have power...
i will:
this spiderweb is mine
i am spider:
ARANEA...

                 ah...            about a Boy
bon Jovi's guitarist motto...
  this Thames this thick fudge:
this custard of blackening sky so blue
with clouds and mirage of melancholgy:
little secret happiness happens:
regardless.