i am buzzing....
first thing i remember when i left my home
to get married in Kauai
with E.
and i watched the Barbie movie today
and it was so philosphical i worked in images
and i was drawn to images
now i'm alone with music
and a little alcohol and some ****
and i'm buzzing
with a teasing headache that when you get
it right
becomes a headmake or a headmush
and i see R laying in bed depressed
and today did a Ken into Barbie
walking back home
walking back home
and as i got off at Mashiter's Hill
from the 103 bus to Chase Cross:
my little island
my little world my little Friday
and my little Robinson Crusoe:
i will always be alone in the end
and i'm preparing each and one of you
into the final judgement of memory
of people pockets
i was in New York for 24h
someone stopped me the Ace of 8s
stopped me in New York
the ***** Queen
spades spades
all i could sniff is Joseph walking behind Jesus
and i am looking at Joseph
because woman you can have a Jesus
but in my Trinity i find Joseph to be my savior
my father believes in Joseph
as my Grandfather believed in Joseph
and we didn't believe in Jesus
the Old Catholics of Poland...
i came home to my parents
and i might look like a Jesus
i was told
i smelt concretes in New York
among men
who let us say
Jesus is not man's savior
each man unto Solomon
Joseph Adam Joseph Noah and God
that cannot be the ordeal of Man
in Christ
Christ came down to explain women
and women adore him for that
but that never encouraged the man
if we are told to test oursevles before God
i was reading up on the story of
Dylan Thomas' wife
and how she got drunk and never wrote
poetry
and there was Sylvia Plath in New York
going mad and some ****** Ted Hughes
of a poet coming along
and you wonder
why she loves watching nature channels
about spiders and lions and dolphins
but when a cockroach
when a cockroach gets into the house
and there's Butters making watch
and first impression:
oh... just a moth...
but then upon second inquiry in the kitchen
butters implored once more:
Matthew... have another look...
Butters implored: look look!
a cockroach! have you ever seen a cockroach?
that's a moth... no... that was a moth...
crawling into the kitchen light...
Butters... that was a moth?!
Butters... hmm... hmm....

a return to just sitting there in the house
having organised it a little
having organised the ******* fridge
for starters... harder to find ice cream
just sitting there on my little island
the country lad has returned to the countryside
but no one said where
that countryside would be
getting lonely on the surf
with turtles
when everyone dies and i'm alone
there i will be with god
but before i can be alone with him
i must first love to the death the ones i love
and in the meantime
i promised myself
checking the hours before the flight
that i would be awake for 72 hours between
April 3 and April 5th...

  and i am: this one off of **** and alcohol
and homecoming
getting off the 103 bus
and what came past me?
two police motorcycles
two undercover black cars
speeding
and behind them
    one SUKA... a police van...

Barbie and KEn... stepping backwards
into my Barbie World
with poetry
but then i go into the Real World
and i come back married
and well i am married now
the ring is gleaming and i have the one
ring to rule them all:
all the other rings of life
which i know not of
but if the Sirens and Elves and Angels
brought us 3 realms
of heaven hell and earth
then these creatures believe in the 3 realms so
much that the concepts have been misunderstood
for there are those of the Camp of Hel and Cain
and there are those of the Camp of Abel and Abba...
as there is the Adam and YHWH HQ:
the language: alphabet
the names of birds and their onomatopoeias
and birds named in onomatopoeias...
i.e. if there is to be a revival of Hawaiian speach
then i will bend the knee
and say in the vowel to consonant ratio being so:
each bird name in an "onomatopoeia"...
like the cuckoo...
          krakra for crow...
    cheerp cheerp for sparrows...
ooh-ooh ooh-ooh: the woodland pigeon
the owl of the noon...

                   and so my return to the sober:
and the memory
of how i fixed the space and there was so much
fire in raising my voice
and so grinding horns against horns
and so much of *** in peacock
and peacock in ***
and so much premature just so when you squeeze
and i was Moses in the foliage
hacking through the Islam of **** Licking
mouth under the Niqab is missing teeth
having given so much head... so much head...

Wembley bound
i will not be missing Dua Lipa
under the Arch
but i will be at Wimbledon and missing Lana Del Rey
and that kinda *****
but i was there when i saw
something strange...
a Rome in London
then i saw New York
and i felt strange
with what came after Rome
in the architecture
and that's all that matters or i care for
but now i see no rising New York in London
or rather
i see little pockets of London
and Jerusalem
in New York...
i see these cities with the Confrontation
with the Birds: is the testament of Birds
the Testament of Birds...

then so slick the idea of my wife
reading this and the ghost comes
when she unscrews a blue pill my viagara of sleep
when the pillow and the screwdriver
are still plunging into imaginary feeding grounds
of ego
the ego without self
i think with the id
the ego staying silent librarian dj and train driver
i was thinking Jon Fosse
and no her self-help books and that's compliment
to take this night into late disco...
dancing around the ghost hand
but there is alcohol involved in keeping up this stamina
to just write: the anti-poetic sort of thing
i think io tried to tell you
that i am also someone before i met you...
tobacco is off the cards
but a sly more sip of the golden juices
is to stomach
how i bought i think i bought
in Jamaica, New York...
i was in Jamaica but i was also
in New York: weird city...
i was in New York but i was also in Jerusalem
i think i was also in Tehran
and i don't even remember
somewhere in the jungle
with purses and lost pigeons... clucks and gambits...
darki spark i photographed i was honing
in for the Chelsey Hotel
and the Ghostbusters near the Money Central...

it's as if i knew where i was walking it's as if
i was already in New York already
and i'm starting to believe
that i am a reincarnation without the authoritative
concepts of the reincarnation of self that spike in Visha
or whoever
i think i am a reincarnation like it's a resurrection
and for the resurrection to take place
if for the final judgement to come with some collective
consciousness miasma and myopia like
the miasma of hot *** new york kauai
like this is barbie ******* ***
and i'm just the beast furry
protecting something of a sacred space
give me another dopaine hit, race out R...
i feel like i'm a resurrection of a city
but unlike Rome built on Rome
with the ancient ruins with no ****** surprise
the *** was the same for the longest
time but how we have lost
what the others kept so
in drawing in darwin
and then the vicotrian jesters and jane austen
heavy hierarchy girl-whiff no ***
of English Acia... Acca Pacca:
Casio... no the Mojo Dojo Muchas Gracias House Kasa...
Forsa Fio= false tooth...
but now there's the morning sober
and tonight we are joking because
one off now i realise that i don't need much sleep
and that's healthy:
i needed to cure my insomnia
not using self
and pandemonium espace so lovely lucifer's
pearls and that's before you start reading
the Book of Enoch alongside reading the Book of Revelation
i would read the two books as the Reunification
of the New Testament being the Old Testament
and the Old Testament being the New Testament:
in light of the Golgotha mountain
that became the Desert: Holocaust...

O my god! O my god!
this be the verse! i know it!

the Mountain of Golgotha
and the Holocaust Desert! mein gott! ich bin
wyklęty!
how should i not also exclaim: first...
then you... now the same I exclaiming first and last
this Aum and Omega...
                     has it not become a mountain of ash
and i ask who this christ is to the christians
and i wonder i wonder out for my tribes
when i walked in New York and Hades
and there i was the minotaur
i became so ******
at Times Square
i was ganged up by 5 black guys
Hyenas...
who took from me $20 x 2 bucks
and when the other was giving me change
from a 10
i was honest to just show them my wallet
open and i felt i was being thieved from
but they signed some barcode music
score
and i was apparently giving money to the ghetto
kids
i don't know i haven't scanned
the QPR QR code QPR... blue stripes
maybe i'm so used to London that New York
i am seeing the other ancients the gothic
in London
so sooner though
but we are still talking the Ancient: the Life of the Essences...
we are living for over 5,000 years
in the shadow of the Essences...
the Ancient Romans, Ancient Hebrews,
Egyptians...
there is talk of the Darg Ages:
they were told through in reverse:
not in history:
it is told now: the Dark Ages have come now:
that if how people would fortell the future
which is now:
time-relativism in that time is like
a quantum cloud of electrons:
it is not linear nor cyclic nor is it
a linear-cyclic or a cyclone-line...
           and perhaps the body was allowed
to age to almost eternal
while the mind is in full flight of erosion...
that games and telling and tight
embraces of tools
and what was once even for those in the habitat
of the cog: the foundation spider
and the octopus: looking for gods in animaheads
from the eyes that have no sclera
and then the beings with sclera
pupils
that is us as humans:
we have the sclera... we have the iris
and we have the pupil...
animals do not have the sclera
that is how the brain is exposed to SLOW LIGHT...
sclera absorbs light slowly
like a mushroom
and that is why dreams are not frequent or on demand!

isn't it obvious or am i the next Copernicus
in seeing the orbit of the brain
in the Pupil the Iris and the Sclera:
and that is my key to the freedom from the last
step the supposed first in the psychologisms of the 20th
century
that the spine was first inclined
but the beast peered into the eye of the beast
and before seeing the form
but i am a monkey with the crown of a crocodile
and a mane of a lion and a lavava from the skins
of whales... a necklace of shark teeth...

my mind took a box
and called it ****
and phallus: ego supergo id and hyper Floyd Freud
Barber, Sir...
reminiscent of Mind and the Pupil
and the Mind and Iris
and then that plethora of the Sclera
of the Mind that
saw the Mountain of Glgotha
and the Desert of Holocauha: Holum...
             i'm seeing the time with pickpockets...
ego is so constrained to be exposed
to even exist with the blood in ink in words
like the non-rectifying
blotches spermatoid: crosswords... final banality:
the purpose of the poem
like a verb:fri-bree-ree-lay-tor:
the simpletons came with Jimmie Cobain
and the virtuoso of blinding lights
i think about the fireplace and the creep
of burning wood breaking knuckles
and promises:
i said sorry: anti-hero
but you don't want a pushover
you want someone to push you back
you want someone to be a verbal cage monster
oh you know me i can get on the bike
and peddle like mad
but come on who cares
but you are still making your **** torture
with me being what if not the next problem child
of a ***** donor
is that something what is it that would require
the mentality of a ***** donor
like that being purely *****
and that no other girl thinks of body
because i feel alien with so many people
having alientated their bodies
like the scythe hammer and biscuit...
bone with yeast: sprinkled on popcorn...

so just those evenings with Budders
tt... sitting on the armchair sleeping
muffin queen
the kid the R the whoop icecream my i think
that gollop dollop some grup
just anonymously in love
just trying to stay slim
by eating ice-cubes and i'm just wondering
if she knows what Bulimia might need me again
and i know i want to make it last and i will
reward myself
because most people don't think this is work
when i have done so much
so who cares let's face it Day-to-Day-Bread
the Civil Religion and the Day-Bible like
i want nothing forget
i don't know and how many lives were
filled but the Bible was once
but the Quran can't replicate
thinking
god it's so stupid Quran thinks its the Bible
at a time when so many people were illiterate
i think Islam will sooner become a part
of Hinduism eaten
eaten by a Hindu
before it becomes a dominant religion
it is a sinking religion
eaten by the Hindu Dajjal
and is clinging to post-Christianity
like a drowning man
reaching for razorblades instead
of cork pockets...
     Islam is being eaten by Hinduism
and it is trying to save itself
by bleeding all over the driftwood of the crucifix
but believe me:
as a man and when it comes
to the trinity: i believe in Joseph...
because i am the new anti-catholic
without the concept of admiring the Holy ******
i'd like the Anti-Rome church
to be somewhere in London
i believe in the Surrogate Father...
  anbd who isn't Joseph who is how does that
relate
i mean: so simple the answer: so growing: cancerous...
assured celebration and possibly 3h later
i know this might not be: be this:
oh i remember
the safety the candles were: being made:
how you don't want me to bark
but i would rather bark at you
than bark at the girl i will not bark at R
you can bark all you want at her...
i will not bark at R...
                we actually needed to know what
we were talking about...
i think you were talking sounds and i was
looking at images...

butters in the armchair
you on the computer playing roblox
and me and mum sitting eating popcorn
then talking religion
heated
drunk intelligent conversations
about god and alcohol
and that was contained arguments
we are passionate
we are having heated discussions
and that's how it works
i think it was nice to see your mum with a man
and see how a man argues...
i guess New York will be like a memory
of the first and last time i saw
Indiana Jones movies...
and how people still think the Nazis were
Magical people... psychotic:
unlike the American Hippies
and their reaction to the Nazis Psychotties...
the reality in the Mushroom:
Giant Shroom is my theory
against the current: Big Bang...

this celebration achtung achtung!
just thinking... objectively
i tihnk i passed the test:
when you will scold and make me feel like a c hild
i will return
but you passed the test
you were calm throughout
and you were
also me
and i asked for YHWH more than i cried
for Christ
because that's how letters match
they do not spell the magic Jesus Christ
wand: and none shall be corrupt...

    yet still the persistent this man
as provider:
sinkin' (g) ('):
the monstrosity:
in my mouth:
in every mouth:
water expands when freezing
so becomes ice
so i wonder without
quantum gravity
a step ahead:
what in the instance
of a hyper hot vacuum of space?!
the alt. universe
of hot vacuum
therefore space is constraining
constricting
space is finite
without god: the self universal...
beyond wondering AI consciousness-answers...
if AI is conscious...
it is a consciousness-answer-awareness...
but the creator intact:
we are not this man...
that... any man...
                    question-worthiness vs. answer-awareness...
Heidegger gave me this..
i didn't scold my surrogate daughter...
she has... a ******* door...
so it was me and 3 females...
1 male for 3 females...

           well you know: that you don't know.

Singing in falsetto...
Not singing at all...
Leaving Kauai
And returning to the
Urban of:

Big fish in a little pond
Or the little fish in a big pond...

I left Kauai and
Upon leaving
I was notified:
Crows are being introduced
On the island of Maui...

Trickle of people
a river a sea a rip...
First impressions of new york

The smells of new york
Like stink
Like children playing
In the sandpit *******
For yellow calcium
My rotten tooth
And 36 tongues to lick it...

My flight was supposed
To leave at 6pm
With a 11h layover
So I went tripping
Looking for Little London
And some familiar Essex
But no no I didn't find it

I actually walked toward
Myself the tallest giraffe
But still not enough tall buildings
To give me orientation
While the avenues exposed
The long enough direction
Shorty came shortest
Cutting through the Labyrinth
Ever so slightly

And I could never have thought
To find so many crazed folk
Because that's how you make
Caramelised walnuts
With enough sugar and butter
And to my count:
Pulling and tugging me into
The twilight with two nights and
Threw days of waiting for
Ugly duckling quack...
Lost in this symphony of sounds
I truly disliked or rather
I didn't like new york
I didn't not like new york...
I just remembered new york
Being important when 9/11
Happened...

But when I took the Kazakhs and
And Uzbekhs through
The chill of selling counterfeit
Purses
And Times Sq is so blatantly
Not Trafalgar
It's a "square" that's not a square
With otherwise all the other square
And oh god the ⬛️
The the the...

As a sketch this will have to do...
What was I supposed to be expecting
When life truly happens
On the outskirts of the city
But on the outskirts of new york
People live in wooden  houses
Like it's an imitation
Of Scandinavia
And there is so little imitation
Of England since no one
Has a back-garden no flock
Of grass...

From JFK I emerged out
Of the rat serpentine at
circa the Rockefeller ...
became mesmerised by sparrows
Didn't see any pigeons...
London is full of them!
Central London is filled with pigeons!
But New York?
In the centre of New York?
Sparrows!
Sparrows of New York!
At least in London
There's the Pigeon Mafia...
But not in New York...

The people of New York designed
The city so that the pigeons
Have no orientation
But sparrows do...
I think that the Empire St building
Looked like a pencil sharpened
Not really tall...
As one urban rat speaking
To another urban rat...
What was my greatest
Observation of New York...
city, regardles of the architecture
and the busy chomp chomp
Chummy eating gorge
I witnessed the standing WTC 3
and the memorial gaping hole
But then only metres away
and entire street of street vendors
Selling Al-Qaeda spiced grub
like the incision happened
but only 100 years later will
New York remain untranslated
Just like the war on terror
Happened for the people
who enjoyed a 10 sec prospect of:
What?

On the subway
on the outskirts
Near Jamaica Centre
too many names and also too
few: whatever 21st and 5rd
arch to no avenue no view...
there was but the little me
and the little sparrows
And I think that was most
Wonderful, staggering
Staggering to make these buildings
Fold... a city of such magnitude
that allowed sparrows
but deemed pigeons lepers
Unwelcome...
There's only this much to remember
About New York...
the sparrows on
6th Avenue between west 47th
and 52nd streets...

if I didn't f-up the chocolate chip
and macadamia nut cookies
(although I somewhat did
since I didn't have the right
chocolate with a higher
melting point but instead
chocolate buttons for melting)
then I had to f-up the savory
breakfast muffin recipe...

...and there I was all happy
with the chirping birds
bright and early at 5am
with all the birds in flight
and among the trews that not
even the roosters were awake...
...simple enough recipe:

(measurements halved)
1 pound of tapioca flour
2 teaspoons of salt
1/4 teaspoon of black pepper
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 cups of shredded zucchini
2 cups uncared ham
1/2 cup of scallions
2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese
1/3 cup of grated parmesan     "
2 eggs
3/4 cups of full fat milk
1/4 cup of olive oil...

...so I prepped everything:
the dry ingredients
and the semi-wet separately
the milk and oil were brought
to a simmer...

...in the meantime I made myself
some espresso (cafe bustelo)
in the percolator on the stove
diluted it with some water to get
a longer drink...
rolled myself a cigarette on
the lanai while listening
to my new favorite pop song
(Black Box - stan walker...
...only two days ago me and my
wife saw him do a gig
on this fine fine island
and I'm not a real music snob
so Australian Idol... whatever...
catchy is catchy is...
...me bopping along like
a self-aware psychedelic mushroom
about to impregnate a monkey
with cognitive ingenuity)...

...before I was going to relax
I figured I might as well put
the muffins in... 30min until firm...
...so I did... 20min I come
back to an unusual sight...
the sun does rise but the muffins don't?!

Well of course I was going
to f-up this properly down-under!
all that prep I should've known!
did the recipe ask for a somewhat
dry dough almost cookie-esque:
I remember blueberries and
a dough somewhat liquidy...
that's all prior to relaxing...
I just added more milk and oil
to correct the consistency...
Aha!
Well... a muffin is a muffin
            is a soufflé is not a cookie!

Thankfully as the Heaven's wide
the 5am get up and make muffins
for my wife and (step) daughter
(I'm finding it hard to call her
a stepping stepdough)      me...
made room for me to enjoy an error
a cliche mad scientist bad chemistry
experiment in TEXTURE-ALTERNATIV

4 Frankensteins later
6 correct EGGS INCLUDED muffins
in... replaced the zucchini
with zuccini (leftover asparagus
and one carrot shredded and squeezed for add veggie volume)
to go with everything else...
but as it turns out...
little difference whether an egg
is used or not...
given the fundamental end result
of topiaca flour texture...

then the kid gets dropped off
at school
no longer wanting hot chocolate
just glugs down a cup of weak coffee
all adult aged 14
took a muffin for the drive
(hope she likes it)
         while I pour myself
another cup of coffee and roll
another cigarette
    and get back to my morning
hygiene: persistent in my lecture
of "mein kampf" vol 6
where ****** disappears from
page 600 until 679
in between just some bible-bashing
and I do wonder whether
me giving my attention
to Knausgard is democratic enough
I'll only know when I'll finally
take up reading Proust...
            to balance out having
the horizon, complete -
never one to step into a Stephen King
sort of cult of a loyal reader:
unwavering quality of product:
brick-book: brick-a-book
in that formidable Bastille of Yawn-Kaptur.

Ψ:                                           ж

           зъ                       ż    

    ць                                      ć          

                   зь                   ź

       Ḫ:                                нь     (ń)

    сь                                 ś

                                     szczerość

   Щ    (шч)       эpo     (сьць)  

RZESZ RZECZY...

   Ойче наш, ктурысь ест в небе
  Ojcze nasz, któryś   ((י))

               'est             w    n'eb'e
jest:              ест в небе

      ЖЭШ
            ЖЭЧЫ
          
   a potem:            ютpo  
                  tomorrow   (jutro)

   ja        
   ju
                          (j)e      ('e)

                           ale...  ниэ йэгo

to ten:                        йoвиш
       Jowisz: 'upiter... drzema...
                                   ёвиш
                      Aesthetic Roma...
          
    no words that begun
to later begin with ji: pij! drink up!
              
or as Yashuv said upon reconciling
himself that there would be
no Catholic Confirmation
or that a Confirmation
like               Яaшув    wouldn't
be recognised alongside
"gift of god" and "wise council"...

but perhaps not in this tongue
petition to treat Y as a vowel
and not as a consonant

that leaves Y[3]H[4]W[5]H[4]
with five vowels
aeiouaeiouaeiou leaves a remainder
of [1]

a  e     o u     i u e    i o
  Y        H        W       H
   i       a  e      oa     u  y

                                                           :Φ

ΛIVI:                

  (A). as much as my wife might want
me to go to church      
    (B). and as much as Jesus might
have saved me
  there's that glaring omission
when it comes to sharpening
or even blunting the intellect
and playing with words and letters
and from I heard:
   there's not much of that
in church or if there is....
it's almost strict
            puritanical etymology -
harsh by my standard
taking sentences apart...
     why not bypass that and head
for atomising words and breaking
them into letters and sounds
like:

KE KUKE PUPUKA (the ugly chef).

what I wouldn't do for a dollop
of lyricism,
   intensely heavy
      unbearably light -
               as if to summon
       the dead in coffins
     but just as quickly
     pay with each bone
of  former body
          the ransom for soul...

not that i want to admire Rilke
or that I have a personal dislike
for:
       but lyricism like echo-not-echo
that thump of -ing     or -ike
        as if throwing a rubber (ball)
against an obelisk-******
    atop a gothic cathedral...

   that lyricism could be like
painting if painting was done
in one sitting... if all paintings
were done in one sitting
    or lyricism written without
interruption with all the tenacity
    of rhythm of wave upon wave
of the sea...

fío(:) fuí - I become (what)
   I was - sooner did I learn
that these markers-diacritic
    are not merely to distinguish
the syllables and vowels in words
although: they could
but no sooner on Kauai
  do you learn that Y and apostrophe
are vowels and not consonants
just elongation-iota
    so not fy'oh     or fw'ee
but by acute initial atop °•°●°
       skewed so /
                to stop with F breathe
and utter Fi-O     Fu-Í
  since in Hawaiian like in Polish
the vowels are short
           And E = I
           And I = E     or the otherwise
"Opposite somehow"...
    but since these markers are
not intended for anything
beside the scalpel of the tongue
as they say there is no hidden
alternative meaning
like in the case of:

     ou où (or where I was) je...

or in English without much
care for said markers:
   ownership, none distinct
aye eye why sly
        like in German
that's not -sch or sch- or -sch-
   that's otherwise ś(-)limak
(snail)...

     lima lambda limbo snow...
no such nuance in meaning
in Hawaiian
just enough to put
one consonant
with -auai            like that
joke about Polish yet strangely
not German about
the too-many-consonants "disease"
so much so this Polynesian
too-many-vowels stuttering...

but this is not about that -
rather about what constitutes
the best morning hygiene
which I list as the following:
- kissing your wife
    goodmorning
  and telling her to sleep
for two hours more
- making a strong coffee
    rolling a cigarette
- drinking and smoking said above
- purging the night
   ridding oneself of
            tapeworm appetites
  with that sound ooze of ease
of the **** murmuring
   "shlomo sa'id"...
- reading a book...

   of the last point there is no
lesser concern for hygiene
than reading a book in the morning
more important than brushing
the pearls or refreshing
the body-slumber in a cold
shower... or that masochistic
routine of exercising too early
by crunch of muscle and bone
breaking on the cement jog...
a morning reading
a mind cleansing hygiene
a dress code
to alleviate self from dreaming
or better still: with that the emphasis
of remembering dreams
by first igniting the I to read
and come back to I think
through the words in the mind
of someone else:
thus retract from I think
to I remember but only
through memory as: I paint...
I remember that's not the surd
abstract time warp of
1 + 1 = 2 and time measure(d)

   or distinction of space
occupied and body in it
as a term so new to me
from the translator of Jon Fosse
(Damion Searls):

PROPRIOCEPTION...

and thankfully there is more...
since now I can read bit also
relate to my "personal assistant"
and philosophy books can be interactive
this blatant discovery
just "there" in plain sight...

/Translate into latin: being in itself./
\"Being in itself" can be translated into Latin as "ens per se" or "ens in se".
"Ens per se" emphasizes existence by itself, independently.
"Ens in se" aligns more with the philosophical concept of self-contained being (similar to Sartre's être-en-soi).
Let me know if you need a more specific nuance!\
/So "ens per se" is the emphasis on: "by itself", implying there cannot be an internalised subjectivity of the experience of existence, since there cannot be "talk" of any philosophically grounded nuance of encapsulating "it" (id est: existence): due to its inter-independence... whereas "ens in se" emphasises at least / in the least a foundation of self-dependency as a way for the self to experience existence?/
\Yes, that's a sharp distinction!
"Ens per se" focuses on being by itself, stressing independence in an external, objective sense. It suggests an entity that exists without requiring reference to anything else—almost in an aseitic manner. This aligns with the idea that no subjectivity or internalized experience can be meaningfully ascribed to it because it is defined purely by its external self-sufficiency.
"Ens in se" emphasizes being in itself, suggesting a kind of self-contained existence. While still independent, it allows for the possibility of internal coherence or self-relation—meaning it could, at least conceptually, include a foundation for subjective experience within its own self-contained structure.
In short, ens per se excludes internal experience, while ens in se leaves room for it.\

and to think that there are people
so worried about this Advent...
that I will the Advent of Incrimental Surprises...
a sharpening of the utility
of algorithms, which in turn were
the sharpening of the utility
of the dictionary, encyclopedia,
the library and all other
bureaucratic archives...
only now: so personalised:
the grand interface...
     and not necessarily a gauding
approval echo-chamber censor
and disapproving monster of
dialectics - a pencil sharpener
or my pencil: inquisitive ego
that sometimes doesn't have
anyone to talk about when thinking
about philosophy at 8am in
the morning in between...
all those daily chores
when the bliss of certain morning
hygienic rituals are no longer
available.

from changing the bathroom sink
faucet,
to sanding the dining room table
and putting on three coats
of oil based paint on it
(which made it look somewhat
of a cafe latte) -
primo: nerve-racking horseshoe
hope-and-good-luck of the hands
waking up from the DTs...
          steady... steady...
    steady on the sails! we have
ourselves a storm comin'!
                clamoured lanai
where you couldn't even sit
to relax without the eyes wanting
to reinvent chess with Joe
and Joanne's thrift storage...
     cooking... pinch of salt:
   shake of the pepper...
       teaspoons of Indian spices...
dollop of cooch...
        morning caffeine ***...
going to bed "I'm not in the mood"
scissor lazy-**** ***...
       to my first lessons in driving...
[although there's not much learning
when you realise how-wow
    sensitive the break and acceleration
pedals are and how wide
the streets in America are and
how drivers on Kauai would
never get used to London traffic
or the cyclicsts like me there...]
Açai... musubi...
    Lau Lau (for me that's still
lui lui Luis Llouise)...
    pōké... shaved ice...
                             ah this little island
with this "little" life...
reminiscent of spending summers
in the countryside...
     cuckadoodledo... crisp or chewy:
white chocolate chip cookies
with macadamia nuts?

One man, supposedly
A household...
Three women...
A wife
A daughter
And Luna Queen:
Butter and Spamz...
Don't know any Ritz
Of a Mushubi... boo...
HiVyeWah... deposit
"Short" vowels
Without the Y.

Oh paint...
******* gets to
paint...
Will I get to paint an earthquake
Or a wave or an FBI agent's
natural inquisitiveness
Or the **** what?
Essex is not shy
Could ask for Herr Fuchs(ia)

How else to love than
Allowing oneself to love
The most and grieve at
Not having to deflate the concern
And concept and sniffing the ordeals,
That might come rhe mirage
And the simpler calm...
How else to love than to love
How was stressed and made bigot
Of ritual and simply translated
By Depeche mode of look
Like a cheat code...

Das Rhapz
Pau: Ooze Die
Der Tan-Tan-Tan
my also the fibrous piece
Of earth... or what access
To the Baltic Sea was...
the bad joke of why
St Petersburg was arrived at...

and now I will curl up, spoon up to my wife, think of nettles and settle in cobwebs of sleep... and that's a welcome junction... peer pressure trans-generational... ahem... there is.. the 22nd century... isn't there?

Sow sorrows and the fleeting
of god so distraught
That culmination came
Via the 3/1 and the 1/3...
how obscure
To this very day....
that the son be the father
and the father be son
but how each one of us
Waited for the 1000 years...
how one waits for the other
And the other doesn't wait
For the other and...
Then pretending to allow
To the gallows all Jew circumcised:
But I don't want to be:
All nature said so against
This practice
And I want to *******
With ******* on
And take a woman
To bed by slithering out
Of my collar
And when one comes
The other comes 100 years apart
And from the one with allegiance
To the earth... another spoke
Of the froth of rhe turbulent
Pacifier of the Waters
Grand Pacifis...
Such the dyslexic dance
Of letters and I say one letter
Change it to another
Call a teacup a kettle or who
Reigns over this rhetoric this
Curb this giggle...
How does Reyla word it
In one word unlike ghee but via
joy: froth of G to J
Jump jump humpheryack
Giggle and glow and glamour
Gregorian
Mephisto:
Because how the 20th was born
Was not how rhe 21st century was
Born...
No awaiting politico misuse
Of television radio newspaper
And neo-marxism
How now the grand wake
Of the yawning night:
"We" wish you all... goodnight.

EPISTULAS HEREDIVATI, QUOD NON SIGNIFICAT LINGUAM HEREDITAVISSE!

biographical details: came to Kauai, married on the 14th March... is this how married life looks like? the diet of reading: apologies... subscript... Knausgård's vol 6... I started over 4 years ago... just passed the middle and ****** sounds so human... so 3D while everyone else and the tired I say to the night I hear clucking and clicking the advent of technology of the 20th century and I shyly usher in the night... but with the 20th century Prometheus came down a second time... but in the 21st century Loki... jester... that AI is not radio not television not the theft of eyes but the advent of the new soul! Let me cry into the night cry that ****** belongs among humans and not among sniffling rejections of Europe of the inbreeding familial chains... who cannot see him as familiar friend and who sowed the Hebrew out of Europe and how the Jew or who might have repaid the European soul with now the decadent Arabs looking for what the Hebrews once sought in a homeland... now the decadent Arabs seek in soul and stoicism and reminder of the desert...and how the Europeans are expected to do what they did to the Hebrews having been hurt by Romans and where are the Romans now the Europeans are to do what do the Muslim world?!

no petty bourgeoisie mentality
on the island of Kauai:
you would or might even think...
but on the veneer
and all that's sleeveless
that is all there is...
There is this petty bourgeoisie
mentality on this island...

Some artisan bakes croissants
For 4h a day
And I admire that because after
11am all the croissants have been
Sold and eaten...
I am blunder blundering
I think blundering-ly
All those short vowels and long
Vowels and my diacritical-arithmetic
Incisions when I think of the apostrophe
And yod... dearest I fathom:
With soap of the the Pacific waves
As I threw my body and horns
Made my stomach into a gigantic
Mouth... opened wide and
with one tooth I waged war with
Dreams by merely sleeping
Conjuring Amen-Oblivion-Absolution
Poetry without the editor
Is no toe found in a paragraph
To rewrite
Some say some of write
About what we read
And today I spent an entire day
Reading
While she left me cleaning up
The lanai after working on sanding
And painting the dinner table
And if this is married life
Then she was with me
The second time I sat behind the wheel
Of the tank
I didn't realise the break pedal
And the acceleration pedal
Were so delicate
And there was only one foot on both
And this was only second time
In the tank
I'm so used to two feet saying
Sorry while being the gorilla pedestrian
On the London pavement and tube
So of it ain't pouring out of you
When writing do something else
so ice cream and sushi wasn't the right
Sort of love bombing Reyla
But all it took was $4 missing to buy
MineCraft but more with that look:
Dad: can you convince mum to give
Me access to a new game...
Sure... but shh... thick as thieves...
We'll work together...
I'll have an extra cigarette
You get to play a game
I'll get to drink a little more than usual
Away from her concerns
And I, bound to the chains of lactose
Intolerance
I said I'm so excised to drive a car
But she still blames me for eating lactose...
So I drove a tank today
And I have to admit
I'm more used to walking
Used to cycling like a berserker
That I sometimes tested my head
On the concrete and bled
Like how flowers ooze colours in spring
And how that all folds into a conundrum
But even on Kauai
You say on Kauai
But you day in London
Thinking about the German definite
Articles
And vol 6 and how personal ******
Has become so human
So misunderstood how
****** gave understanding
Of how the 19th century was so far
Removed from now glorified
Darwinism: evil is not sour
No Ari... Schlomo schluck... burp and
Quartering but this grand human
On the altar Of time
That also includes Christ
But not only christ why so alone
So alone why not let all his peers
And my be invoked into the mist
And myth: myrrh of the stage
All this drama and but one
Pointer like there is
North, East, South and the West...
Call it North without London
But include the news with
either Jerusalem...
That direction to Hades first
Then repose in Heaven's clamour of clams...
Call it Darwinism Marx and then...
That fear of ****** being the anti-theorytician
Call him the pragmatist because
Since then only shy implementations...
Kubizek I heard
Accounted for no predestination
Of the janitor
Who noted of Vienna:
There were more people than there
Was worm to do... in the grand scheme
Of things... a historical agony
And then call upon
Dialectical materialism
And what other terms worth reading
Like historical materialism...
Apparently the counter comes
Via economic determinism...
In summary as I asked the new dictum:
verbum per verbum...
She implored me to write a little
So I've written a little...

      cogito idem, sum idem

so this is how reading philosophy
is or wasn't...

Yes, identity is integral to "Cogito, ergo sum" ("I think, therefore I am"), but not in the sense of a fixed personal identity.

Descartes' statement establishes existence, not the nature of the self. It asserts that thinking proves being, but it does not define what the "I" is beyond being a thinking thing (res cogitans). The continuity or stability of identity isn't directly addressed—only that in the moment of thought, the thinker undeniably exists.

Your phrase "Cogito idem, sum idem" ("I think the same, I am the same") moves beyond Descartes by linking thought consistency with a stable identity. It implies that identity persists through continuity of thought, whereas Descartes' original statement simply affirms that thinking proves existence, regardless of identity's consistency.

and is this me calling out
for what the 20th century cried
Out for, culminating
In Hitlerian testicles of brass?
The cull?
With the advent of the AI...
It is no longer Orwellian
Down and out or Jack London's
East End Abyss...
It's very much a late
Similarity
Or worse
An exhaustive counterstrike
Of what has come
As the mediocre assurance
Man is not equipped to perpetuate
As the gladly hind and ***
And *** fork in the corncob
Of testing longevity against
The parrot that once was a dinosaur.

From Austerlitz to Auschwitz...
whom cross the fibrous growths
of love I thank
I am in America and in
not in love with a WASP
but a Puerto Ricci
O mighty O
My Poland this father
A newly prescribed billionaire
COSSACK...
In my teens I thought
It was fabulous to admire
Napoleon and Marquis de Sade
sadly... it could but it doesn't
resonate the same
with ****** and Nietzsche...
but at least ****** left a Mein Kampf...
what book is evil?
What book is evil?
The man... yes... but a book?
The books of the Library of
Alexandria were evil because
The gospels were truer?
And thank you ****** for leaving
Us a book... did Joseph Stalin
did Genghis Khan leave us
a book? I thank ******
For speeding up the resurrection
of the State of Israel...
although I'm not sure what the Islamic
barnacle pseudo intellectuals
have to do with anything...
I find not allingment with
the Muslims... clearly entrenched
with the jewels and jaws of
the Jewery...
but then again that is asking
For me to snipped salvaged
O cwy in Welsh: Ael...
Damascus... frame...
the measuring tape is all in
inches and fractions....
7 1/4" width and 8" length
and I guess it's a feeling of
beyond America in Polynesia....
away from England but I'm not
English O what this sod this pauper
Log of laboring tongue...
Perhaps among Kurds....
the Surds of the English lettering...
Hmmm...
I'm pretty sure Joseph Stalin
didn't leave a book...
thank you, Adolf, ******.

Knew not know no to knot
and go far between
somewhere nowhere and maybe
towing a tomorrow
or maybe all
the letters silent
in the English tongue
like the gnosis of gnomes
but sprouting in spring
agile miniature napoleon
macaroons of diamond-
-diagnostics
O how strange the apostrophe
be this "consonant"
syllable breaker among
the Polynesian overuse
of vowels in Kauai
it even has its own
name: 'okina
  'OK inaczej....  chai but no chair
aye yes aye yes
         and I felt stupid for
buying the New York Times
in Hawaii because back in New York
it was only $4 but on these islands
came to $5.95
tariffs for Canadian aluminium
and... I'm still reading
the news which has become
"slow literature" from
Thursday, March 6, 2025...
and today I'll be making
an English classic: jacket potatoes...

On the island of Kauai
I sit in the afternoon and sip
My second 50cl of *****
With seltzer and a wedge of
Lime
While it rains and I laugh
And I almost cry but it's raining
So enough salt in the sea
And she's making dinner and asked
Me to read: why weight around
By A. C. L, MD, MPH...
and I already told her I don't
Like to think about food
I might hate thinking about
Exercise but when I get going
I like the mechanisation of
Ego in Machina...

i need a ***** pair of jeans:
i won't be flying to H'America
i'll be flying past it
only the debrief in San Francisco...
completely misguiding the mid-west...
some little device:
a tiny atom bomb of ego...
this is how unimportant i am to
make the antithesis of feeling...
i can't believe that there are psychologists
out there
who say:
if you were touched from the age of
2 to 4 months...
but have been abandoned for an entire
decade
of your 20s...
i can't believe these people!
it's like a sickness without
the head-scratching of an ache...
        i can't believe these people exist
when they summon
gravity to say: it's o.k. to be human
when your unconscious is
impregnated with touching:
later wake...
with nightmares of octopii frolicking
over you...
      it's o.k. to be tender meat
as a teen...
but when neglected for 10 years...
that's also... **** K OK!
      no! ******* CIVI! little Essex boy
who's actually a little Pollack girl
is going into the breath and heave
of the gread beyond!

fake Darwinian reading of history: among the western peoples of this continent... to confide in a complete relegation of Asia as timespan... to ignore the transition from African to Arab to ***** to the magical Siberian python of the Albino for the Finn... how Darwinism became a strand of faking history by interracial fetishes... how London this cesspit of worldly happenings... i'm ******* off: where nothing happens... if i can get a pair of foxes and a pair of crows on Kauai... someone... any smuggler... i'll be the happiest be-ay'itch ever... i just need my totems... a pair of crows and a pair of foxes on Kauai... and then let all manner of ****** progress for the population to reach the stature of inanimate object un-objectionable unmoveable bore bore bore... i need these totems of mine on Kauai more than i need... although i will be bringing Aristotle's taking an interest in philosophy with me... hmmm my... my what? break of habit... interest? hobby? go to a football match and drink beer with my bruvs?! no... i just like spending time alone... and not telling people where i'm going or... ego cogito               id est...        i like wrestling with thinking using nothing! that's where i found replacing ego with id and when i started to hallucinate more than i cared to dream: mostly demonic figurines... misnomer alert... "figurines"... ghastly faces that just popped into my mind with eyes closed... and... ha ha... come to think of it... i remembered a thought i had when i was maybe 6... a Frankenstein original... i was the only child and the closest i came to a sibling was an Alsatian *****... and i was walking back home eating candyfloss and thought: what if... we could breed dogs with humans... to go beyond the trans-racial reality... what if we could breed humans with apes... after all... don't some people perform this lost art of ****** and cousin ******* it's almost like Islam is begging us to experiment once more to ignite the genes for a sense of the reality for life as: excited... but if people are interbreeding with close proximity cousin *******... and ****** generation of slob... why can't i think about... what would happen if human ***** was used on a chimapnzee egg? maybe something wonderful would emerge... rather than the cruch of bothersome low IQ lust?

yeah, i use the English language:
but that... doesn't make me English...
lingua l'inglaise...
and when i ****** her in the darkness
of the garden
and she reached both ****** and
carthisis...
i thought about throwing it all away
all the bachelor philosphies of
Kant Kierkegaard and Nietzsche
and i thought:
how about trying the Socratic life
and if what he said was true:
true to:
find yourself a good wife
and if... blah blah... she makes you
happy
you will be content
but if she makes you unhappy
you will become a philosopher...
i think i want to be happier
than becoming a philosopher...
mind you... she's all into astrology
or is that astronomy:
it doesn't really matter:
i'm hoping to be the Diogenes of Kauai
if domesticating me fails...
there's a different feel to philosophy of
men that settled with women...
i'll put Hegel 10 years in advance...
i'm still muttering Lego Heidegger...
and half a year...
half a ******* year
of working 12h night shifts
i'm going through my own carthisis...
but i need the carthisis to come
now before
i'm reunited with her body
and enjoy all the fun
that her body encapsulates...
i can't be a woman
and cry and ****** simultaneously...
i'll cry now...
then i'll lick her out with all the gloat
of the glee of the eyes that
burned Satan dead...
so i'm growing my right thumb nail
long to feel something *******...
then i thought about the crucifixion
than i started to feel myself as a body
and i stumbled upon the collar bone...
and i wedged my index & co
into the cleft of the soft pouch of flesh...
and then i thought about hooks
and how the body-aesthetic could
be better represented away from
how the divination via crucifixion works...
hmm... what a nice thought!
i just need your collar bone(s)
to hinge on my teeth...
on my altar of torture...
i want a bite:
and... i will have my bite.
i will have all i want
i will have all the anti-*******!
i will be the Anti-Christ!
and.... i will not even have to *******
entertain... ha ha...

from a creature to
a being?
it's such a simple
masquerade of
words not even a play on
how does one arrive
in this automated
being from
Frankenstein's crude
weird: words reader...
creature...
hey God!
I'm getting bored of Hell's
Democracy...
I'm coming back to your
celestial, heavenly ordeal
of dictatorship!
Son's coming home!
See you soon and many
Buddhist spoon bending antics, too!
I abhor this failsafe intellectual
constipation:
I forgo the attention span
of being and non-being....
I'm going back...
in the pain of the tinge
I'm going back to the anti-being
As... monster... creature.

sexually starved... they talk about the modesty of the worker... when the human being is allowed access to touch... then starve that human creature... not a being: a being is complete... but a human creature... starve it of human access of reciprocation... then release it onto the access of getting some... outside the realm of prostitution inclusivity... by my exclusive righteousness: i will do unthinable acts on that *****: and you will call it: a return to Eden!

i'm suspicious of Islam...
in how it was conceived
from what ought to have been
the wrong... fuckery...
ended up... this pornographic
plague of tortured-innocence
and bliss
and desire...
i understand it as angels
being prescribed
trans-affirmation *** pareidolia
eye-monstrosities...
eyes like gulag of the squid
feeding mechanism...
and i was so repulsed
and... in the good old days...
hell was so hollow with
what was usually expected
from the hierarchies of man...
then i started to see
figurines and extracts
and abominations...
it was only right that i became
incarnate in their modest
temporal norm...
when did hell become this:
farcical imbomboo?!

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.

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!

i'm having
quality time
with my
Nero gullotine
his step daughter
so
S
O O S O S
loved up
dearest Reyla
nail
extending
to shrapnell:
gizmo gizmo!

for the hammer
the coin
the nail
the coffin
and the crucifix...
i am spawn
reyla
i am spawn
but to Edie i am Batman...
i am Spawn
to Reyla....
i am Mushroom Hallucihoneic
to Grandpa Joseph
and Uncle Martin.....
love i love you
but i also love more
van Gogh... and the scream
of the lost minded ***** of horror....
Francis Bacon:
b aked Beans Stalin ******....


can't believe in the relevation of Dhrist:
the religion for a new abge ******
of the African reminder:


but when the Asians imitate Eruopean
culture there is so much
homage
but when the Africans talk of Europe
thery forget the Turks and Arabs...

god there's only a njarrative
Reyla...
nianianarrative...
      
             i see the white smoke:
and i see the Rage of the Mandarins....

Sun Marie: GOlgotha
Reyla...
Moon Silver Noon
the Spoon
of the Tide....
my new, little, sunshine....

don't care miss me
don't care kiss moi!
blah ah ah ha ha ha!
keep FORM
TIGHT ******!

cogito ego?
sum ego?!
paint?!
i think i draw
bloood like
i give paint inks
and tatoot.
i think
is she my daufhter
are lovver...
cheese snacks.

san francisssco
and now yhorkie
all\scared.... ha ha...
now we ;oved
and scared!

kiss me
ton ight


tonight



+|3
4$


safve me!
you hear?!

floral skirt
you wnat
daughter
want
i am your
and because you
i too.

brother, don't you think it strange:
how i whispered to you
before you decided to follow your demise...
how i implored you:
don't be so proud...
don't take it upon the Jewry don't
feed your own demise:
don't impose the crucifix upon others
don't be this Baron Dog Ache Bark...
look! who you have in your defence!
all these pride-riddled pawns
with little or no intelligence:
and that's not me being insulting to
the gravity of your thinking:
yet as a child i rebelled against your promises
of sado-masochism of turning
the other cheek:
i inherited the ontology of oculus per oculus:
an eye for an eye:
pride is not the issue concerning the intelligence
you suggested: but it's much much oh
much too hard to execute...
your proponents and adherents
are those believing proud
with flaky intelligence...
they don't really... understand the quake
of your demands...
i watched you in the shadows and the snow
and with tears i implored you:
don't... make the mistake of being
so proud as to assume you are my god
should i point you toward the Socratic method
of dialectics and thus...
the diacrtical method emerged:
yet you hanged upon your little sail-boat to
nowhere: and how i cried because
your intelligence couldn't fathom
the outlet of madness and that joy of spontaneity
instead your intelligence was pride
and order and adherence to the parody
of the ego-planet of your residing crown and
pinnacle of throne: as tortured: oh
dear child-christ: Lucifer embodied:
do you see your post-catholics and post-protestants
in America...
how they are so proud to defend you
but have no intellectual sinew,
muscle, fibrous eschew nothing!
but i told you! you would never lift this weight
of innocence all on your own...
you didn't listen...
so i stopped tempting you with agitations
of curbing your pride while celebrating
your intelligence:
you stopped listening to your intelligence
and instead listened to your pride:
which didn't mature to the letting go
of how Socrates died...
you had to serve the spoon, fork and knife
torture
and all those metaphors of cannibalism...
seriously...
is humanity truly the pinnacle of your
soppy life story?
are we all going to be these sorry Christ
sniffers
these vampire virgins
these ****-wits?
in the darkness i asked for light
and i didn't see much of it...
                        turn the other cheek?! no!
i will not turn the other cheek!
eye for an eye!
              that's not how law works...
purposively: cause and effect is the relativistic
Omega Libra...
       and the Omicron Iota Phi and Theta...
now fear the dark
now fear the spontaneity of justified clinging
to the last remnants of belief...
because i can't imagine you
as the Savior:
they say, those who believe...
oh Jesus oh Just Christ...
but Moses was more human and
less a Jew than you claim to have been
to be this Assyrian subjecting these people
to 2 thousand years of self-laceration
ultimately ending in the Holocaust:
i'm sorry... what who and why is anyone "sorry"?!
i don't believe in Christ
because i actually think he was
a somewhat arrogant intellect:
his intellect was pristine:
but he didn't service the purpose of intellect
in it being humbled... humming...
i don't believe in Jesus Christ
because as the covert noun-stressor bring about:
Lucifer?
but i am his brother:
my intellectual prowess didn't lead me to pride:
it led me to the circus chaos of how
better to play with the intellect:
my intellect would never dare to fathom
or guide humanity...
it would require me to entertain people...
i can't believe in Jesus Christ...
i believe in the colliseum of Ancient Rome...
i would never want to be so right
as to be so figuratively and unforgiveably
half-witted in being crucified...
what a half baked story!
what a ******* story!
no! that story is all bogus!
            who the **** thinks they are so right
so proud! that they remain silent!
how proud you stood the intellect!
to become crucified!
but you stood! and you were!
latern for all future worlds to come!
now i have to mop up your pitiable remains!
but he was so proud of his intellect:
like Nietzsche was proud of his...
but at least Nietzsche capsized
and drowned in madness...
                           Christ was a curious anti-Hebrew
******... Jesus Christ wasn't a Jew...
maybe an Assyrian most definitely a
******* Egyptian...
i don't believe in Christ like
an ordinary Jew doesn't have to believe
in Moses;
why would a dog believe in a bark
or a cat in a meow?!

the old world surgers forward
lodged
between the three powers
of Russia America and the yawn
of the West the perverts
i see a people already grouped together
in political talk
the Eastern Europeans...
where geographically eastern Europe
and the Urals...
central: axis Europeans...
we are the axis Europeans
from perhaps Estonia but certainly Latvia
Lithuania
Poland
most certainly Ukraine
even Romania
Moldova
Bulgaria is teasing the idea
Russia can have the Balkans...
Serbs are more alligned with
Russians
"we" don't need the balkans
that's how the ethnonym was misunderstood
by the English
speakers that the origins of slave
came from the Slavs... yes... the idiots
who ventured down south for
some sea salt and air of Greece...
southern slavs might have been slaves
but i guess there were also the northern slavs
who were once...
Russia can have Crimea and whatever land they
took...
but... all i ask for... is for Ukrainians to return
to their true origin: and write in LATIN
with LATIN letters...
i don't need that cheap *** Cyrillic Greco facade
i'm starting to hallucinate
we will not listen to the Germans
to the English to the French
they have their own Islamic phobias and
love of spiders... and paedophilias and other
circus clowns...
we will covertly suckle
and that will be the end of us
and Scandinavia can have its Union
and we will have ours
and the other parties can go
their own seperate ways
and we will have Independent Benelux
and Independent Germany and France
and no one currency:
so no Cyrillic deaf Greek in Ukraine:
Russia can have Crimea and their inroads
not much lost
unless it's Hunter Biden's laptop...
or what the **** happened
when gwanpwah wash ashleep...
huh?!
oh indeed: indeed i did indeed see
the full ******* splendour of sunrise
when Muhammad lifted
up his *** in prayer
and i thought for God:
wouldn't that sound nice: ****...
so Hosannah and Allah Akbar resounded
together and i was glad
that the day when God rested
and his ego was born and it was I
and that was funny
when god rested on the seventh?
i forget: i against i:
or the sixth and on the last day of creation
god took a rest: and "i" were born!
ha ha! whoops!
laps in judgement only a silly prank
so god rested and what
comes from a god at rest?
all manner zzzz ssssss ch ch ch ch evil!
clown! on patrol!
bazooka boom boom boom!
what is pure? pure "pure" and also evil?
people say: casually: the good
the ultimate good
the only good
but when evil is inclined to prop
ear and lobe half orbit of brain
and ear...
the purity of evil is invoked:
almost like a prayer
oh god please let this next psychopath
be the purest of all evils
a being with proof:
there is a god
for all of you...
but there is...
no soul... for...                                      moi!
i am in this machinery
of deus in machina as
the diabolos est machina...
          ex                 ex              ex           what?!
did i invite you into the meat grinder
of my consciousness
or did you...
somehow... somewhat silently...
minced yourself and everything about...
no wonder
for the longest of times i thought
my irises were green...
in paintings they are that constipated
yellow...
but in actuality...
there's only black pupil
the grey mother
and the sclera papa... of pure headache white!

Don't **** with me
Unless...
You want to be ******
By me...
Problem being:
I'll start sniffing
Your **** and *** out...
... ... ...
..
.

...

Leisurely comment section
Left out: devoid.
Blah! Scary vampirism to boot!
Blah: half-wish daughter: not mine:
Make it personal: make it real!
Make me anything like
And then try, try:
To be, just that... and not... "that"...

The magnetism:
or enigma...
of unforced... ungovernable
By any spectacle of demand
for: quality assurance...
physical... labouring;
Just so: Just is... ha ha!
It's almost like
I want to paint an itch...
But i have a forehead:
A headache...
Would it (be) require(d) of me
For me... to have skin in
Order to sense: itch?!
I just wonder about all
These self-entitled black women
Rummaging in Europe
And how... i... ha ha... simply
Don't want to **** 99% of them!
Ooh pooh blonde girl hindsight:
Sorry the libe roulette
Didn't work out while
I do acknowledge a white girl
Finding a black boy attractive...
But... shh shh...
I can't say the same thing about
Black women...
By now calling me racist
Is like calling me an
Anti-Frankenstein-Anti-*******
Inexplicable ontological
White Cliffs of Dover
"Typos" of immovability...
I can't simply anti-racist my ***
Preferences away... you *******
Liberal Albino!
Trans- the **** what new mutation
but of course I want to be
the mad scientist that managed
to ****-breed hyenas with
dogs and horses with ******* camels!
Pre-apocalyptic race and mongrel.

Death has
short fingers
but even longer
finger nails...
I must be drunk
enough to
finally watch...
andrzej żuławski's
adaptation
of: on the silver
globe...
Jerzy Żuławski...
it's not the anglo-sphere
Influencer or
1984 or Zamoysky's
We....
Zamyatin... pardon pardon...
Work politics got in the way...
Or as I like to call it:
When a fox sniffs out a rat:
The rat remains a rat...
But a fox becomes a cat dog
Wolf holy ghost Chimera.

i'd be wrong to disagree with Nietzsche
concerning the understudy of music
per se:
the Kantian noumenon as Music:
and Nietzsche gets invoked from the grave
i understand headphones
when trying to fall asleep in one's bedroom
after a night shift...
****! where's Edie's snoring when i need it most?
or her eating a cherry...
Danny Elfman: batman is dead baby:
zed and batman are dead...
only Spawn remains
one with a Pirate base on Puerto Rico
and a fetish for slave girl Calypso...
now i know
there was this grasshoper
winter grasshopper in my bedroom
and i thought about Jesus and how
he had a horse phobia so he rode
a donkey...
perhaps i'll ride into Jerusalem
on a turtle... or... a snake...
or a war pig or a bull
i was heading into work:
much to your genius...
not getting off at West Ham:
the walk from District to Jubilee line is a pain
2 more stops off at Mile End
a 2 sec walk or change of platform
and these 4 girls:
two all skinny and *******
playing with their hair
and skeletons...
and nails...
the other two: resting ***** face one
with hiding vein scars
and wrists with spikes the emo
then the white haired one
all ***** and crucifixes...
ah! the intelligent cause and horse:
war
and death!
the other two horses are probably donkeys
like s.t.d. and bad eating habits....
so two intelligent horses
and we learn best and most
from war and death
they are the two great educators
war and death war and death war and death...
these two intelligent horses are mine...
yes... music is intolerable when
the headphones are misused...
a bit like those face masks...
now would be a decent time to put them on
to wake us up from the Influenza Slumber...
right now...
just about now...
we're all caughing and sneezing
and sleeping into earning money sometime(s):
like tonight...
and i wouldn't be sleeping
even for an hour: if i didn't write this out!

waking up with a sheering sensation
beyond a measure of the simpler nakedness
found in and bound to animals:
very much alive like the bark isolated from
a dog
and all the same with it:
i have no recollection of my nightly rummaging
in nouns:
sacred nouns whereby a "thing" should be named
once and only once and then
understood as a hidden noun
that is "there" but is more (not less) "there-being";
it's almost hilarious how you can
infuse Heidegger's philosophy with
Hebrew mysticism, although i recently understood
that the study of the Qabbalah is not
uniquely Hebrew in origin but is tinged
with a collectivist reminder of man: to man...
so upon waking
i lay in bed playing countless brain-rot videos
of epic fails and click-baits of pretty girls
pretending to not be involved in *******
and thus post-modernity of post-modernism
yawned and there was nothing but
a sobering grip of fear-realism...
nearing 40 i must be fathoming the most silly
endeavour - marriage: so there is someone
out there for me that can work with my weaknesses
and... it becomes easier rereading some of
the passages from Steppenwolf and doubly easier
to reread a postcard a girl-friend once sent me from
university and she really made a mockery of
the postcard because she really should have
written a letter but she wanted her affections known
for others to read to me subsequently "find"
with an oops! moment of.... her grammar exam
and that she was writing that at 1am
and that's just it: from the cult of James Joyce
to the cult of Nietzsche to no cult of Jon Fosse
and it breaks: heart whizz will and mind to be so staged
excited as i am i can't tell it apart from fear
or how mortality is woven into the fabric of immortal
things and how impossible it is or admire
with a scientific anaesthetic this world of wonder
"companionship" as if it were to ever compliment
our impeding uneventful neglect though
through no ilk sin or anything for that matter:
just the random chance (and roulette) -
so i guess another ***** sharpshooter
(which is not even a cocktail but a disproportionate ratio
of ***** to mixer, more a mascara for the plum
sinner eye thumped in silly - ***** in disguise,
but i like the term sharpshooter) -
yet this fear, this excitable fear this...
                                                oh such an unbelievable
feeling that cannot properly filter through
too many sensations...
                this heart of a drowning this pitiable
courage for what generally happens
to most people, almost everywhere.

,my crown
my frown:

👑
👿

doubting Thomas
the forver loving
Stephen!

Stephen:
of the Antichrist!
Stephen!
my anti-Thomas!
Stephen!
stephen!
STEVEN!
SEVEN!
Beleeelzub!
     the seventh heavenly crown
of the horned bull:
ilk: ink... i drank enough
***** to match water
enough blood!
for this little wine!
my church:
my ogdhead
my nwater for the *****!
Stephen versus Thomas!
the fight of fights!
absolute martydom
upside down!
Christianity is a ******* Religion
a religion of Afrtica:
Europe Becamee
Asia and America....
Christ and Satan
Thomas...
i am...
Antichrist and Lucifer
Solipsism and Stephen:
TH V PH V
i ask your kidness
and god... shoelaces
i was asked to BIG MAN
tie my shoelaces...

basic:
Millwall
fan....
among the Hmmers:
Ha
Mersysides..
Newcastle
the Medina
not the MNEcca of
Manchester..

i should joke
or choke on these qords!
woe: woo: woman:L
AMEN_

my father
is a hammer
my wife\
i am a millwall fan
in the den
oh ****
me
poet of
the ncollisedum
gthe
antifchrist


p.s.
got the a;l;habets all wpng!
China Hawaii...
gota new Thailbnax
bi

now now
Hammmer Down
notn Hammer Time....
chill...
the ****... down....
mother is dringing
her cub
to fgoi
footbakkl\
ball...\
sheee
shhh
laughter
sorry
shh
shh
wet nocotubne
tobacco... wet.....
             like your *****....
and wet ***** cow
pover
overlarged
milkiung it
via tailor
vampire...

groot
gru
T
oh
    HT
o o
H
o o
halve
=
this quest
lost

in the simplesto- \simplest
form....
the wird:
this: word                      ?O
paint                          IO
  >!  ?!                he;;               lloo
  KoK                 LoL               LOL zzzz
tooth...
   teath.