christianity as a philosophy is a school of the ascetic... but as a religion: a schooling in aesthetic... giving pearls to swine... because you would never give the ascetic abstract of pearl to the same gobs... knowing full well that they would still **** out maggot-fiddled fudge of plagiarisms... christianity is supposed to be cruel: the highest elevation... yet people flocked to it like sheep to the slaughter without realising the repercussions! the sheering via madness: to begin with! yes: this is me making sure my future wife to be: understand how i understand christianity... and how i don't give a **** for status of personage and word, thing, noun... god, devil, ghost, holy, evil... etc... it doesn't matter, now, then, or for any future concern... i'm not going to be a sport enthusiast as much as i will be toying with playing the game of hide and seek i hide my mouth in your ****... how's that?

as having inherited the walls and strongholds
of the Teutonic knights
for the failures of the 3rd crusade
with pickled ginger-beard
therefore the luckiest leftover pagans
feeding the frustrated wrath of the crusaders
and having inherited that:
it's not even victim olympics but
if the Germans
if the Turks if the Russians
and even if the Swedes wanted to pick a fight
with "us"... so be it...
to have been educated by both non-existence
being the ***** nation for the Hebrews
the Abraham...
so be it... to have been educated by
both **** and Communist ideology...
thinking this modern farce... fickle...
pink-haired pseudo South Korean
ick with having *** is somehow normie...
this dismembering of language fluidity:
it's so nice to be sitting on this last
inheritence
of the sleeping chimneys of Auschwitz...
i like the idea of having inherited
these sleeping dragons of horror...
to think the world can go bananas straight
while i hold the capacity for the ultimate
curve-ball...
and i can: and could: should i be given
enough grief: to reignite those fires
like how the dwarfs reigned the pits of the Lonely
Mountain with the dragon still sleeping in it...
my inheritence:
almost like my inheritence when i gurgle
and throat sing with allusion to the Mongol:
while Western Europe panders to Islam
not in the least the cheap labor:
which comes from the subcontinent of India
but this idea-fixation of ugh...
           really?
                       even if Christianity can be salvaged:
it can't be done through the medium
of the feminine: via religion:
Christianity could be a philosophy...
but for the longest period is has been subjugated
to something that even Stoicism...
Stoicism sooner died as a philosophy
than be turned into a religion...
which... Christianity failed at...
Christianity is an intellectual failure:
for the simple reason that it became a religion...
just imagining the second coming
and the... ha ha... ah ha ha ha: the "second"...
ahem... ******... birth... because: how else?!
see: i understand christianity as a philosophy
a school of thought akin to stoicism...
but christianity: in its degenerate easy access
status of religion? n'ah... can't see that work around.

only in England would bilingualism be treated as a schizophrenia... half ******* burr-nor-cu-lars... seeing: my-biopic as my-oh... ******* England! dyslexic shorts... snuggling worm instead of a serpent weaving itself between your ribs: i'll get that Adam's rib before Eve is to be born... then you won't tell the difference of whether my tongue is worm or serpent. yeah yeah, political correct: you rest assured: they will treat those Nigerian mothers who tow the shopping trollies from the supermarket a mile down the street and dump it next to a bus-stop just so well... it's too painful to watch this continent become a dumping ground this traffic of people not going nowhere... at least some hope for Poland, Serbia and Russia... i have no **** guilt i have no post-colonial limp **** energy... i'd rather live like Gauguin... among the Blitzkireged Polynesians... i want to study the history of Taiwan... i don't want to live among these people who **** themselves whenever someone is "offended"... i want to drink *** and beat the drum with the savagaes of the Incas, Aztecs and Mayans...

out of compulsion come all the necessary
tools for the ego to equip itself
to force thought to its (ego's) frail now:
and present hope
to dictate against the world:
to not think what someone else thought
because where would there be "fun" in that?
- and a day can begin perfectly:
even with the alcohol shakes:
but i beg to differ...
i just spent last night talking to my future
wife
and how i lost appetite for *******
when she sent me her saucy nudes
and when it comes to racial purity
i feel inclined to break the rules like
a Spanish conquistador and oh ooh oh
all that Latino mocca coffee plump... plum and peach
and...
       well that's not how the day began:
i was making myself some coffee...
in my sleep she realised and retailiated against
my milk intake: apparently i was
lactose intolerant... fair enough
i do feel purged...
but the day begins with cooking the most ideal
hard-boiled eggs...
six... six to count...
the egg whites are fully done...
there's a clear membrane of rigid stiff...
there's no inbetween of somewhat runny
***** protein...
and then you enter the abode of the Yoke of the Vatican
of arguments for abortions...
running milk of gold... of fat and pig snouts
sniffing up pearls to later choke on
a mere breath...
how to cook a perfect hard boiled egg:
well... you don't want the yoke to turn out
as an imitation of feta cheese sort
of crumb like
like you aren't circumcicised and don't
have proper anti-circumcision hygiene bound
to you
so the ***** is left under the collar like
white grit... nasty business...
and then you mature and find ***
to be the best fun
because if you do *** right
you don't really care for being a football hooligan
or you don't care to be a grand chess master
or you don't think about playing paintball
pseudo ******...
you just want as much ***
as the proper priests of this world the Hebrews
and i don't understand how Jesus
didn't understand this
and why the world goes full circle
even Islam doesn't understand the sanctity of man
and woman
i just think of hide and seek
and all the toys of the joys of play with how
*** works and how woman compliments man
and that's how i find the stage
with no actors just the technicians of
the curtain raise: the curtain fall...
but cooking the pristine chicken abortions
so the whites are defined: properly rigid:
like gelatine...
                 and the yoke is slightly runny
so it still retains its sweetness...
and isn't a crumb flake-off of imitation feta cheese...
i'm no culinary expert but
then i just think of *** and gravity
and i just want to be bored and not bored
with my antonym and make little indentations
into reality that deviates from
being an old **** and i will never be the one
to sit silently content and solve
a crossword puzzle:
i am a crossword puzzle: bilingual:
as the authorities suggested: a bilingual quadratic
as schizoid too... so...
       boo boo!         see any ghosts lately?!
******* England: i'm ******* off to America:
like that Tom Waits song...
i'm going out West: where they might appreciate me!
and no... not the album version...
the live version from glitter and doom...
******* little psychopathic England
and politico coarce my Niqab for
going into a bank:
and being instructed:
can't don a hoodie... but it's o.k. for religious
reasons to don a NINJA JABJAB NIQAB...
******* you **** *******
i'm gonna pick up my toys and go into
a sandpit where i can **** my pants and not feel
neglected by my inhibitions.

p.s. because it's not like i haven't tried to make
ammends and **** an English girl
but since i can't compete with an inter-racial fetish
and the promises of free drugs and
being doused in gasoline my Pakistani **** gangs...
what is a boy tow-dough?
all that's required is for a happy pomp-pomp
officer of clown pleasing
to knock on my door and give me
a Kafkaesque analogy
about who's in what's what: authority.

i asked AI for some guidance: i half smoked a joint... but i remembered to ask the question: let people be people... th(e) reply was... sinite homines esse hominses...

a ****** will not play me anything
appreciative of Chopin even if
i asked it to dang me a doodle do
or... whatever:
so... this current western narrative
of origins of all origins
thank you Africa bull... *******... ****...
is... retardo! retardo!
par excellance... sorry:
as this central European
who most forget Germany as also being
central:
and geography is the new politics:
so this swab of land most call East
but all forget is Central:
like they don't ******* forget
where Scandinavia is or where Italy
and the Welsh of the Medi-
      sea Greeks grow their ******* aubergines...
sorry sorry...
but a Chinese yob turns into a piano maestro
and imitates Chopin
while some Nigerian **** is rhapsody of wrap
my chicken nuggets into 9x
and dons a Lincoln trim with
a mimick of Muhammad's moustasche
because he forgot to wipe his face clean
after eating:
is this western and Darwinism
ontology:
this ******* of: thank you Africa...
then? then?! i'm not European...
i hold my sway over time and say:
beside the hieroglyphs:
what phonetic encoding systems emerged
from Africa? oh right... ****! none!
so... given the complications of Kanji...
my origins are firmly rooted in Asia:
maybe around... Moongoolialalala...
maybe that's an anti-Darwinian historical
disengeneous... bypass...
but i can't stomach the translation of ontology
via this fake history
that somehow... from Africa we arrived
in Europe
without centuries of whatever the ****
happened in Asia!
my roots are firmer in Asia on the steppes
with the domestication of animals
than all these slang ripple *******:
sell ******* chicken nuggets
and call it: ******* cosmo savvy: i dare you
i double don't dare you
since you're already doing it!

but Dr Warnstein:
and... Mr Half-Asked...
should have
oh those girls....
those girls
and their ****** fancies...

*******!
you and
you ******* jihad!
*******!

of course i'm *******! i went out to scout into the world! on the high street some new supposed fools: what were once the Europeans are not the Africans with their manic street preachings... and i only saw one supposed Christian: and he was unluckily me... and i felt so **** about it that made me feel slow and mollusk-esque... and i didn't like the idea of the fathomability of reducing my thinking to the schematic of religion... i felt like a woman i hoped to ignore and more inclined to sort out dust from sand with... glorious burp: i wait for the night: and who would have thought... the gatekeepers would absolve the parallels of the dynamics of the new age of the printing press: yes, thank you, no thank you... we don't need you being our gatekeepers...  you... are... excused... no one gave you the memo? oh... well... i do this **** for free! i'm sort of half-joking about it... ha ha!

no, i can't fathom numbers as indistinguishable from
letters after all
it is letters that gave birth to numbers
and there's testimony from the ancient world
whereby VI IV          is X
and somehow modernity allowed numbers
to be disguised from their origins of
surds...
however many tantrums of mutation
an iota is 1 I
3 is E 2 is Z 5
and perhaps that's just how it was supposed
to morph...

       yes... religion is to women what philosophy
is to men:
i mean men... i don't mean:
feminists and opportunistic normancy necrophiliacs
with fears of the schizoid-bilingual experience
saying this
i was walking on my first proper weekend
off trying to get dollars for a trip
to Hawaii via San Frisky
$700 in $20s, $10s, $5s and $50 worth in $1 dollar
bills because
i'm catching up to the the tipping culture
what a load of *******:
why aren't you people tipping the supermarket
cashiers
why is it only certain jobs that get tipping
what a load of ******* i don't get this
added tax!

m'eh m'eh blah blah
i'm missing a Welsh comeback in the 6 Nations
and that means what? the Irish will not win the grand-slam
but more important: the Calccuta cup...
and O my knee cup my knee...
my back aches
am i going to marry Christ's *****:
fair enough
but i'm not going to be Christ's *******
i'll just ******* that crucifix while
he was even then hanging and refused
the centurion imploring him:
have some wine...
funny how at the zenith the wine wasn't turned
into magic wonder dust...

because my aversion to ******* his intellect
off stems from my childhood and it was
inbuilt from the start and it was nothing to do
with the weakness of Christian civilization
esp now because that supposed Alpha Omega
and Beta and Sigma male gave what purpose
to starting a family life?!

oh but the Muslims are not off the mark...
the males **** suckling on Muhammad's preaching
on the high street with people engaged
in cannibalism and the daily routine of not arguing
about the price of eggs...
persuading me to understand Islam...
i was almost asked...
but if they asked me
i would have replied:
my former girlfriend was almost killed
in the 7/7 bombings... she missed the bus
that exploded...
you want me to convince me,
make me understand... "something"?
true story... i just hide it... because why bother
with the past when we're all strangers
and trying to get along
as farmers, police officers, postmen
and ******?!

well... if women need religion so much
then men need philosophy:
unless they are these weird takes on masculinity
and like the adherents of Islam
can't see the powergrab of the women
in Niqabs... how they can Ninja their way
out of any responsibility...
or anything...
            almost a shame of not seeing them
overflowing glutton of the western canon
and shameless
just this hidden truth of the lost enigma
of the ****** and the unfreezing of niggz and eggs...
just a little flow just a little dance
but i distrust men who have religion
as their crutch
and that mantra blah blah
the crows are speaking more intelligence
but only crow their cra-cra-croak-and-creaking
unoiled doors to a reality of the Ancients...

so the afternoon: prior to night goes...
i'm still finding it funny to
be given a stone and two birds to hit...
a lover almost my mother in terms of how
time works...
and a daughter that is mine that isn't mine
when what's called biographical ownership
of the deed... ha ha...         completely missing!
way way ahead of any future oops!
or ****(s).

one might add, or rather, begin with: a man should never hope to endeavor to marry a woman interested in philosophy... at best: a man might find a woman endowed to religion... since religion is the better testimony of the feminine fervor of intellect... even in the old days of the Ancient Greeks where prophecy was a skill bestowed upon women... i can return to a place like that where the defenders of Christianity are women... the sacred brothel of the Madonna finally coming to terms with: well... upon his supposed second coming... you know what happens? the incestous Apocalypse where the son ***** the mother and there's no surrogate good willing man to somehow alleviate the god-man tensions... just outright slaughter of the psyche: given our modern prowess of hiding: absolutely nothing... but the standard is set... a a good woman is for whom religion is like philosophy... while men respect that because... as it turns out... given the feminist catch-up tactic: there's a feminism all encompassing: platonism, artistotelianism, Machiavellianism... existentialism... basically there's a feminism for every direction each of these singling out men took... and somehow... that's supposed to be... a "good thing"...

so let's suppose je suis chrissy
crazed all unfathomably true
was so right:
but he didn't live through to old age
and that deaf
without the ordeal staged...

i was just thinking about
arithmetic, the unshakeable foundations
of mathematics in
the simplest form
that could somehow translate
into words:

for that i would require
Descartes and Kant
and Kant is not going to be almost eternal
because he was right:
as most feminist thinkers lay claim:
the noumenon and how there
are things in existence that our senses
can't perceive:
could implore for some secret octopus
funk juice or a sprinkle a magic mushy-mush
without a room but a forest...
could ask to peer through the veil...

unshakeable...
the existentialists might have thought
1 + 1 = 2
i think = i am
    what is "therefore" in the dynamic
of arithmetic?
surely i can't make an "addition"
of "i" with "think":
the form is all wrong...

form: given a number...
2 is a combination of 1 + 1
of i / think...
but 2 has the form: thought...
while thinking is probably the number 3...
in terms of form...

Kant also invoked the spirit of the binary
and modern computing
when he uttered:
0 = negation
   therefore 1 = affirmation...
1 0 1 1 0 1 0 1
if this is the modus operandi:
not ontologically strict focus
a man negates
affirms
negates negates
affirms affirms negates affirms
to mimic memory:
what we remember is strict
in terms of how we function
but in our leisurely time we forget
so much goodness
and we remember so much ilk
and then repress: which is a heightened state
of negation as repression invokes
a different substance to what consciousness is
the scrutiny of the ego-scalpel of the psychiatrists
with the cobweb of the unconscious...

but is the Cartesian "equation"
so unshakeable as something arithmetic?
Nietzsche tried to claim:
i am therefore i think: somewhere in the footnotes
of more human than human...
i don't know whether that helps
given 1 + 1 = 2
or rather 2 + 3 = 5
as much as 3 + 2 = 5...
          
                 language seems so shaky,
cocktail of jargon and bosoms
and surrogate fathering measures
thinking how could i possibly love a 14 year old not
mine...
while ******* her mother?
well: if it was a teenage boy i'd be in the pig's trough
full snout and **** and **** farts...
but her claim for me to impose the ordeal
of **** *** on her as if to "compenstate"
for my own "missing link"...

threesomes are so unspectacular
i sort of understand ******* in that:
most of the time...
during the act... you don't get the artwork
of full *** on spectacle
you: the protagonist are not the narrator
in the *** act and that only leaves you
snippets of seeing the human body:
it's affirmative of the necessity of art
this ordeal this choke-joke...

sure: Kant was wrong... but i do believe
that noumenons exist...
not a singular presence akin to a God:
i believe in noumenon pluralism
like gender fluid affirmative action
for blah blah b'aaah b'aah bad grammar
and a pronoun fetish which
implores you for bad bad noun hygiene
invariably calling a field of rapeseeds in bloom:

honest to "god"
i was on a bus and a child asked a mother:
mummy... what's that yellow?
that field of yellow...
and the mommy replied: oh... some yellow things...
they were rapeseeds in bloom...
gender neutral pronouns i they to
rapeseeds in bloom are just...         "yellow things"...

thing is (a) shape? not a shape...
thing is not a quality or quantity
it's not anything specific
at least yellow was retained... in the descriptive
dimenion...

but how unshakeable is the Cartesian "equation"...
how many times have i thought
that didn't precipitate into being?
there's thought
a medium: that i sometimes attach myself to:
when i think:
but thinking is a constant medium
that doesn't sleep that doesn't blink
that doesn't do anything but is
the headache that's God...
to imagine thinking constantly without
taking a break is like trying to compete with
the *** drive of insects...

I HAGTEREYLA
i hate\
ypu5 si[pples too!\

wolf moon
grue
bleen
i am
grey iris....
dfearest Ryle
tell E
D
I.E.]mother die!