without froth and anger: the serpent became the worm... but the tongue remained and with little confusion: expect in the homosexual community... you really thought you could make claim in this temporal realm where people championed freedom of speech: your **** your sword and my tongue... being... what?! what?! what is my tongue?! at least i dared to come down and live among these creastures pseudonym gods like agent smith in the matrix... you and your old ways of sword is phallus where my tongue is sword... come... come down... face me! you ***** coont! get your other Matthew ordeal... your next Gabriel punishment via a Muhammad... come come! come down!

for all the gross talk of men among men
concerning women
i'd like to revel with you in a reality:
imagine being exclusively tied to the summons
with a woman:
abstinent for a year without touching
her
and with the year coming to closure
just imagine the state of mind
with so much pornographic exposure
the forbidden now not so forbidden fruit
imagine castrating angels
then imagine clipping their wings
and forcing them into the hierarchy of
halos and saints and popes
and imagine not:
a second rebellion:
but this time from heaven down
and not from hell up!
you can't persuade me: satisfy me...
that Michael wasn't ******* about
being demoted from Archangel to the hierarchical
pawn-ownership of Saint...
Michael...
Michael my Michael O my Michael...
you will still yield that blunt artefact of
abstracting violence...
that sword your fake ****
against my tongue that's more of a ****
to **** the ****** Mary?
slobber slobber blab blah?
is heaven still authentic?
last time i checked i started power-napping...
became bored from the: paw paw:
per usual... started growing my nails longer
than usual to imitate trans-genderism...
grew a beard, shaved it...
wouldn't it ******* an Archangel
to be demoted as a Saint and relegated
into "manhood"... without having
a foreseeable antagonism incarnation
not even *****-whizz Gabriel attempted
with Muhammad after having electrified
Hosannah my Mary?!
       point that thing you think is a sword
and then... i'll lick your *****... my O my Michael!

i ran with deer! i rummaged with foxes!
come Michael...
show me your **** your supposed sword:
and then... i'll lick your ***
like the best ***** there is... in i heave!
heaven to its proper stature!

i die
who dies....
no one cares...

i only fell to earth because of my marker: that tattoo of Cain: one of wings was clipped... the priest and the feeble implored: be one of us... i played along... but then humanity did humanity and i was left admiring animals... the tongue of love of which apparently there are five: i learned loyalism... but then i unlearned it like a dutiful dog being beaten... and i didn't bark... then i told them of the choir and the great wind: and they told me: didn't you hear that in Arabic?! how can humanity conjure being, equivalent to angels... to later disfigure them first claiming they bedded the daughters, so... rejecting their genitals... ordaining circumcision... then clipping off their wings giving them halos... and this world so burning... such a burning itch!

and what happened upon the first quake of
Enoch...
when man thought it wise to conjure up
angels and demons:
allow them to mingle with him
and then somehow
castrate them
beyond measure of circumcision:
when man decided to go beyond the castration
of angels simply ridding them of genitals
of that imperative of honor and obedience
by the outlet of love and lust
then man conjured up circumcision...
and as much as i appreciate the aesthetic of
how certain dog breeds are given the make-over
the snippet of the ears
like the dobberman
like the bulldog XL...
man under the slumber of Christianity went
one step too far
by clipping the wings of angels
by calling Michael a Saint
for what is the worth of the angel
if no longer with genitals
now no longer with wings
but instead a solipsistic halo...
this magical defeatism so swayed away from
god and under man's domain...
this rebellion is no longer a concern for
hell alone... this anger has been raised
to **** on heaven too!
you will not mishandle these creatures
like they were dogs! at least with dogs
you can handle the aesthetic...
but to make angels saints?!
you cut off their wings and give them
hierarchies with ******* worth of
halos!
make the maggot mouth breathe some
sense into your mortal decrepit fued!
how can you first make claims that angels
descended and lay with your women
to create giants
to then make them freakish monsters
of the centipede wriggle
with wings lost and halos gained...
how can you, man, do this: unto angels?!
man, how can you?!

and i watched this poor ******
from atop a double decker bus
best attired social grey of ghost
in pristine black sneakers
black trousers
dark grey musubi truck t-shirt
and a lighter grey hoodie
donning dunglasses...
and i watched this poor ******
pushing a pram filled
with bagpipes and nappies...
and i thought about nothing and
then i thought about thinking
and i also thought about i
and then nothing: nothing at all...
oh you poor soul:
to think i might be the one raising
another man's offspring:
sure... i want to be... famous:
but only when i'm dead...
lucky me! two birds! one poney
and a stone...
so the girl's father is dead:
****...
    i don't even know what that means...
so i have a child in the crisp cut
darkness of reality
and her biological father is dead
and i'm drinking nervously
anticipating being alone all alone
through the night in San Francisco...
i'm not even *******
thinking about coming back to London
via New York where i'll also be let
loose like Hades' Cerberus...
because so much concrete to chew and
be constipated with...
but there's this daughter
and then i think about the hawk-duo girl
and i think about slobbering
spitting on my hand to lubricate it
before i use the hand to **** her ****
while i kiss her slowly, softly...
then i listen to some Danzig
1000 devils reign: and i think of the Caesars...
and... sort of think myself
as the 2nd Christian... which is funnier
if you think about Christianity
as a philosophy with bad actors
people as saints against angels
making a Michael a saint having clipped
his wings:
how cruel is Christianity....
the ascetic as a philosophy
but all that aesthetic as a religion...
now the wrath is boiling
and it's boiling over all the shimmy of lowering
IQ... because now Christianity is
not a religion of the pauper northern
barbarians but that of the ******* *******...
oops... said what?!
you clipped the wings off of angels
and started calling them saints!
gave them solipsistic halos:
you crazy fools! you ******* effing
retardo Robertos and Alejandros!
hell should raise itself and take a ****
in your mouths
with all your unnecessary *******:
be lost without the woman of your lust
for a year
and count the days before being reunited
and also make it clear:
the offspring is just an offspring
something to be catered to:
something to be fed
maybe if stressing: having its *** wiped...
but in terms of a top hat and bunny
and the ******* magic act of
oops... it's gone...
i'll need to spit on my hand to lubricate it
better:
the best *** insinuates violance
contained... and being a potent for
surrogacy...
        i don't even know if i am even slightly
understood...
i see Christianity as the ultimate testimony
of how to sieve humanity
how to break man and govern
the best to come of him...
that's why Judaism honey-suckled so dearly
to it
that the Holocaust would have to arrive...
not out of Islam...
oh jeez! so much jazz!
and maybe i was cruel
to the Africans and how the Japanese love Chopin
but the Africans can't appreciate that technicality
but thanks to the Africans we broke away
from classical music and reignited the drums
but... that soppy happy story is done
given the advent of the end of musical
disinhibitions and it's just a brick wall of
sordid sounds...
                but only with the ascetic of Christianity
that: anything like who wrote the Quran:
if Muhammad was illiterate
and his first wife was his older
savvy bussinesswoman Khaddijah...
         i'm still holding truce with the truth:
i really don't want to live among people that
want to **** me or my loved ones
and the ones who pretend to be shadows
with:
at least i can see a ******'s face smiling
in the dark with full grin and sclera of the eyes...
but this woman-fake ninja binja...
well drum roll t'ah t'ah: i'm all mouth and my eyes
rolling back into her ****...
i am lust i am awe...
i am San Francissco at night: all on my own...
on the 28th of February through to March the 1st...
that city will be mine.

so there's the world: yeah:
yeah...
and Islam is only part of
this world: yeah... yeah...
yeah... innit bruv...
so like... innit...
so you have you east London
collective bruv... yeah...
so
Islam is like a cognitive *******
constipation
innit bruv...
        hey! **! bruv!         i don't
have to... ******* live among you
people bruv! i can *******
to another part of the world
where i'm not influenced by your:
arschlochsprechen!
                     who said Christianity is
perfect when it's translated into the confines
of religion?
i don't want to live among Muslims...
i don't have to!
so lucky to think i can escape
these incestous ******* retards...
i don't want to live among
Muslims, with Muslims...
i'm gonna take my chances with
the Polynesians...
           i just don't want to live among
these people...
is it so ******* bad?!

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.