for each of ALL her: her... he she and him: and her O you: oh i... ALL her or hers: the sighs: sighs via: all? assured, exclaiming: ah! as a sigh... brothel Islam like brothel church: mother of bordello... in no defence but at least the witches were banished and so was superstitions about women and bestaility and men and autism... for all? ah: and summon A'am... from all: and ah: to all as Ah and Am... because the Arabs were to learn from the Egyptians: and not criticized the Hebrews: well: they did that: in the beginning: but even without eating pork: became lost in inheritening the ***** juice of Satan: dinosaur black gold: Islam became naturally defunct via natural inheritence stones rocks and Mammon... Muhammad Mammon Mammah... i need to wed Allah to A'am... before it is too late... the Islamic girls are frightened... i'm not surprise why... be: loved: don't idealise the beloved: just be: and so will come of being of the loved... women oh so shy and so lovely women i cant's translate into a universal queue of oglong: ablast... little words... little feelings: but such an intact grand whole unison of a you.. some pseudo-scientist ahoy... or just a compactness of the child before you: dreaming of trans-species in going beyond the races of man and needing toi meet the need for breeding Monkeys with Bears: we are to end up as Monkeys that no one knows who were: but Monkeys that had to become Bears! we can at least say: then man went into bear... from monkey... but where did monkey come from?! Achilles: child: memento of history: forgeting it... ah:am... or perhaps: a'yam... or ah-yam... then came the D with the Veil of what i'd give: should you not be with me... oh Ahyyam... who said Allah was a bridge to brides... an old Jewish seamstress in the Arabian peninsula... foretold cul de sac fates of singletons... who said of the right names in lettering from BL CN: AE: AI:
Ahyyam: no less the Adam of the devil V in the **** of all Eve.

nie! ja tego! szwabowie nie przebacze!
tego FRYTC
nien nein nein!

when Kant said: analytical a priori
via mathematics:
1 + 1 = 2
1 - 1 = 0:

but zero was so late a commer
of the common denomainator
of multiplication:

Kant's a priori
castle: analytic of other horror synthesis:
1 + 1 = 2...
but before numbers were
beyond trans-:
rigidity of letters:
they were:
lavish exports of idea
from India and via
Arabia?
seriously?!

i was supposed to eat a pizza
tonight:
i rather the idea of cannibalism:
writing by myself
is so much more Inshallah:
Bismalah:
      Quran O Aam...
               not Allah: Aam... Allah is a female
name... Allah is the bride of Aam...
Allah is the Bridge of Aam...
just look at the terrified women...
they do not fear Islam's men...
they fear the Male Deity
hidden in the Female deity of Allah:
i wouldn't know:
whether Allah is a masculine sounding name
or whether Allah is a feminine sounding name:
Muhammad was a man...
Aisha was a female:
was Allah ibin Muhammad
was Allah shy loom Aisha...
the Moon the earth and sun the Gravitas?
i think history needs
historiology like post Kant post Nieztsche:
****-scructurists...
   Heidegger...               i'm a disciple of:
the chimera of man
as the schematic of ego super ego id
the scalpel: sister: from a descent from heaven
into a struggle:
Hebrew with Arab! reunited!
joy! O joy to the world
like there might be no end of this drama
of fief and thieves and fire and force!
i am:
the post-monkey...
via cats
via dogs:
who want to make
the daft ain sof
connection with the bear... imprint...
i will not find it swinging from branches
and then onto the moon:
i need to rekindle myself
with caves and paintings of packaging
tomato soups and Andy Warholls
rather than steering for antelopes...
the king of nature is a trinity
of the chimera:
serpent...
yes yes yesssss....
lion, gorilla... bear... banner? eagle...
and ye who want to be blessed
forever:
just the amount of torture of
the fates of sheep and the winds of lacklustre...
but i see the screaming ego:
and i can't sooth it with id...
no super-ego abides to give learning:
therefore from shadow to moon
to shadow on the moon
the eternal exent of nacht:
then onto the sun to scortch.

social media... consecration: exposed to the world:
with the nigh of night... knits of armour of the knights
of death:
the house is my own telling: either a ship or a castle
and i am the sole-soul captain of two cats
dry mouth: cotton mouth: flames and moths...
cold of the glass percilating
into the base
descending like me on your ****
i lifted the glass
the last of wine with some clarifying blood
of white of *****: vudasusze!
vudadusze!
         O O o o
         o o O O
         O O o o
         (q-cute: acute)

i told you: i stopped writing: i started painting:
skeletons and bushy ***** and returns
to eden via a birth via off / of a woman:
beyond good and evil:
either / or
either of woman
or off woman
either / or

either of a woman
or off a woman...

      the point being: who's eating the pear
while someone is still eating
the apple:
no. no no no...
she's eating an apple
and getting drunk
and i'm eating a watermelon
and ingesting the pill of spice:
currently only the marijuana pill

i'll take rainbow pill of LSD
when dementia:
not the dementia praecox they
tried to slow me down with
in my 20s like bilingualism
was schizophrenia
assisted dying came to England!
finally!

so concerning media:
past social media:
only thanks to WhattsApp...
in Egnland that's
called the workforce group chat
social media:
the working man's social media
WhatssApp...
i'm getting check on by the "boss"
when clocking in:

YAY... i thought it was a girl
messaging me:
this strutting cockerel
is a chickpea in terms of the use of language...

finding music and cult films on
Y-worm...
not tubes: just the Engineer's way
to implore:
see no tubes not aqueducts
just worms and more worms
and no longer dinosaurs and dinosur
telepathic strength of mind and fear
mind is a duality of
fear
and comfort
not of soul...
ask the mind about the rubric of phobias...
ask the mind about affiliating oneself
with: pedophiolia...
         and soul and god are to be bound
to these flickers of intellect:
once apparent: then hiding...
i want to get high and drunk and write you
a love letter...
i'm writing a love letter
when i tell you what i wrote
having personalised the email...
i am the extension The Prophet of AI
against the Commerce in Algorithms...

I see: I taste: I hear:
there is a future 🙉
                        monkey says he doesn't hear
serpents talking
and doesn't see bears showing up late
with dragons
to relieve me of off these serpents
i implored the Lord God
to release me from these serpents
and dinosaurs
and write a history
for atheistic scientists:
look forward:
the ape adored the bear
because the bear
made the most of the spring
and summer
and most of autumn
got drunk
and in winter and the night slept:
from Africa to the Pole±

vampire what AIDS monkey...
i'm looking for a bear...
i'm a king kong already defeated
Godzilla...
but now... comes the: Ursus Rex...
the gorilla is me? me?
the Chimera of the schematic:
ego-super-ego-id: gender neutral pronouns:
it and nothing
are categorized as pronouns...

where? where running bear?
i am a monkey with the key snake clue:
you are bear
i am gorilla: can we at least plan then nexxt 300,000 years...
i want: to overcome winter and night
i want to...
i will have to learn of your Ain Sof
beginning with cats
and dogs
rats... squirrels... foxes... deer...

Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park tomorrow!
woo hoo±!
Mr Jeckyll: where is Dr Hyde?!
ha ha!
          oh ooh it's so sadistically perfect!


the email................
...........................................­..................
..............................................­.........................

Mo,

I'm sending you the workbook I was given: strange... I don't actually have units 6 or 7... as you can see I have units 1 - 5 then 9 - 10: I didn't even have to complete units 9 & 10: once I did my first five units I was dismissed from showing any more of my coursework since they said: STOP writing so much.

Do you have any units missing? Now that is rather curious... weird.... can you send me the workbook that included units 6, 7, 8... I just want to have a look at them...

As you can see UNIT 5 is complete... by the way... I got through units 1 - 2 on my own but then my brain died a death of boring language... so I had to resort to chatGPT... don't worry: I actually asked "it" whether I was plagiarizing or not: provided it gave me the answers and I just reworded those answers to suit my idiosyncratic tongue-print (imprimo-lingua)...

I'm sorry that i can only help you out with UNIT 5... do you have to complete those asinine UNITS 9 & 10? When I first started reading those questions I was struggling with a TRANSGENDER pronoun-genderism and neutrality of question that was less a question and something from the ****-stink-and-*****-choking-stained-handkerchief: pretending it to be ammonia or whatever the hell "they" used in the WWI trenches against mustard gas...

Weird... that I didn't have to complete UNITS 6 and 7... 8 wasn't even there...

But yeah: use chatGPT: insert the questions and then actually read the answers and make sure you leave your own language print... I'm not implying "dumb-down": but write as if you are comfortable with giving a briefing to about 10 stewards and 5 SIAs...

By the way: it's not cheating, I asked chatGPT what the difference was between using it and using an algorithm like Google, you know what it replied? I am a personalized version of that impersonal conglomerate of stashed info.

Matthew

p.s. you can actually repay me by taking my advice about using chatGPT to do the modules that I didn't have to do: you at least have UNIT 5 to work from: type in each question into the robocon and see how I answered the question to suit the familiarity I have with using language... then do likewise for the missing units and: IN YOUR OWN WORDS... don't do what I've heard others do when using chatGPT... they use another "anti-plagiarism" robocon... quill-something-something... it's like that, reminiscent: of that, this: the current scenario of people taking antibiotics for granted: using them for as little as a cold rather than using them when necessary: bacterial infections of the chest etc.

Use chatGPT but then rewrite it in your own words: otherwise you might get found out.... or at least: you won't sink into a woman's job of being a ditto-head typist...

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
I, Z, E, G, S, b, Γ, B, P, ю
origins of arthimetic
the concept of numbers....
so no architecture
up north?
so ******* beligrent
and proud and *******
cinnamon skin authority
racism
ugly ******* skinning types...
numbers for the already received
rivers of letters
and the lakes of numbers
not hidden in letters!
when letters were already used
as numbers:
so who do i owe the pleasure
of white
penance... grief and racism...
    
                  i have a dream for a monkey
with the bear
yet some somali fat ***
turns the wrong
all the wok ching chung hype-real-reels...
of lost cinema: silent
and non confusion with the Catholic aversion
to a female ******...
only the silent of birth
of Christ
with the silent deaths of auschwitz...
wonder-prone sun!

i don't give a ****: telling the difference between a ******* kite and a seagull counting: a flying ****... over-celebration of Shakespeare is like a brushing blow on realism... given that crows remain just... now is the time to tell the theatre: no second Shapespeare: is ever going to, come... a Jesus in the second making: and how many sons of the sun and Muhammad included: befell the allure of the sun: without the happy-inquisitiveness of the moon and stars?!

poetry: oh to will this gesture: words that
abide by something pseudo-journalistic
and quasi- so...
memorable: that quote...
from an ancient Greek... typical of a man
who marries a younger woman...
i think of stations and i think that:
if i lived near a train station:
i'd make a fine, fine: train-spotter...
seems these days you need tiers and hierarchy...
but this is not a Platonic bombast
of dialogue, rigid beyond:
nor is this the Greeks and the Trojan Horse
of the New Testament either...

paradox... paradox... Pandora...
Paradox is the son of Pandora...
somehow: just rearranging the letters
gives me insight...
for the P and the A and D...
N and X: Nix... rest assured:
i will not be glorified with stately affairs
equivalent to Shakespeare:
or Newton:
i'm not of this land, this breath:
this historicity:
i'm elsewhere...

and Polynesia is no escape plan:
me migrating to Kauai is not an escape plan:
it's a plan of belonging with someone...
as...
someone... "wise"... in journalism:
we have philosophers(?!)
once said...

never marry a female you make an altar
of a body to ******* to...
oh... clean and clarifying: fancy...
but that's the only way to fathom
the undisputed contests of the sexes...
i am with someone
who cured me of any if any
pornographic addiction
from the age of 8 before i was able
to generate ***** before
***** there was only a knee **** reaction
of a muscular stimulus...

besides the point... what Socrates said:
find a good wife: and you'll be happy...
but but... but find a terrible wife:
and you'll become... a.. marble invocation:
a... PHILOSOPHER...
so philosophers get the wives
while poets get their flings?!

   "paradox" implies... misnomer...
and... and... metaphor...
is it paradoxical that i suggest:
that ugliest son-of-Hera-and-satyr
will tell me
how philosophy devolved
given Shoppenhauer and Nietzsche:
the pigeon was given a
pen: did it stop the pigeon from
flapping its wings and given to flight
reassure us that some
poor ******* will remain caged
in the monstrosity of expected reality?
my coworker is just that:
a Popeye *******...
         Scott this... Scott that...

interlude of dreams:
rather than the interpretation of them:
i'm curious about the vantage point
of having dreams without the luxury
of having to interpret them...

two nights ago i was a Merman...
literally... in dream: that's literally:
i saw what i saw and i was a Merman:
Hail Polynesia...
what was once earth that became sea
and what is now earth: so be it...
Mongolian empire my ******* ***...

i asked: no one... anyone: in particular:
and the Soviets were less inclined
than the Mongols?!
so is "paradox" a misnomer or
a metaphor?
the dust settles... the ashes fathom...:
i am more beast than man
and then more abstract of man
with the ultimatum of nothing to behold...

philosophy of bachelors...
Nietzsche and all the rot that brought Germany
into this xenophobic 21st century of Europe:
i have Russians to thank for the positivity
of stigma on the:
******* basis on language usage:

SZMOTOPLUCHY!
cotton clad and camel jockeys...
people really do... underestimate
their shoreline racism
when i am waves upon waves
of uproar...
i see the fates stumble within the grasp
of the the waves and tides
by: designation of the moon's whims
but then people around me:
freeze: like pawns...

i move what i want to be moved:
reality is a whim and not...
find a wife and be happy:
find a wife and not be happy:
but there was always the testimony of,
actually having a wife...
but the German Bachelor philosophy muddled
affairs of crucifying love and calling
it: all the improper names:
justice... Nemesis...

                 not all men these days
will be equipped with wives
and... and even then:
how many would burrow in the **** foliage
to find or seek Eden
in that furr of **** worship...

sooner the delete: butts: on on...
i just sent her a message:
you rub your **** and ***
all over my face: let's reinvent butter...
why?         oh why why...
because i ******* said so!

to philosophize is to learn:
to be poetically: abrupt...
           spontaneously ooh! ah!
                         like a magic trick without
any magic!          ooh! ah!
i sigh the little sigh...
then...
                   sigh no more.

for all the good:
mushy-mushy feelings
i had when
giving that beggar-woman
20 squid
to go and shelter herself
feom storm Bert
disappeared today
as i saw her again
outside the shop...
and she asked me again
for money without that
formerly inclined mystique
of addressing me
as a kind, young, man...
two volunteers were also
there collecting for charity:
or "charity": some bogus
Humpty-Dumpty cause for
bureaucratic leeches...
and the beggar-woman:
i didn't care by then...
i reprimanded her...
"reprimanded": no...
i scolded her...
she asked me again as if
a ghost without a shadow...
another yet another passerby
or personna-non-grata:
in her orbit of imploring
me for money again "we" were
both kindred spirits...
but first time i was made to feel
like a ******* donkey...
second time: first time i gave
the woman fish...
second time i could see
no need for skills in fishing:
none were available to begin
with: no netsno rods...
so what? more free fish
more Israelite laments about
the land of milk and honey:
manna from heaven?
it's Saturday night...
classic.fm rather than BBC
radio 3: only because it's movie
night with Jonathan Woss...
lisp dyslexic no trill of the R...
so i scolded her:
don't ask me again!
last week i gave you 20 squid!
i fell for your charm
the first time round...
there are 7 million other people
in this urban vicinity...
what if they each gave you
a penny each?!
you took advantage of
my weakness: not my goodness...
well... well... it wasn't in so
many words...
poignant: point being:
do good... as long as it feels good...
there is no point pretending
you're doing good:
if and absolutely if:
it doesn't feel good...
which is "paradoxical":
since when people perform evil
they feel good... or do they?
maybe they don't feel anything...
but at least do good because
it feels good... it's never about
being: good...
being is beyond good and evil:
doing isn't...
some Latin: to better probe
punctuation:
esse ist ultra bonum et malum:
after all what is grey
is also what is what is:
when white trickling into black
makes of it:
not colour but a diluted night
that emerges as a fog...
there is no beyond this
bilingual (elevated)
schizophrenia (de-elevated)...
what am i? a walking fudgery
of pretend good will:
i did no good giving her 20quid
the first time around...
i was plagued with doubts...
with questions...
then came the resolving answer
the second time she asked
and with no Disney-theology
allure of me fearing this
might be a haggard woman
to later turn into an Enchantress
that i might be turned into
a beast that no one could love...
well... someone does love me...
ergo? c'est la vie!
there are people in place
and organisstions who are there
given how asylums once were
and no longer are...

if i am to become an American citizen... i'll requote: don't, you... *******... tread... on... me... savvy?! now that i've stirred the ghosts of dogs with sighs and they stopped barking... i imagine... i dream, i remember... i might think: but if thinking is 1 and being is 1 and am is 2... mouth agape... monkey laughing: who the carrot the stick and the donkey?! said the monkey? maybe us northerners are more inclined to believe: we devolved from bears... some say we evolved from apes... but i think we devolved from bears... and who is to prove me wrong? the prowess... of the English anti-racial intellectual elitism?! maybe in America... in the extent of the English language having influence on Polynesia... maybe there i can find my heart and grave and peace... they do look Taiwan'ease sinister... though... these Polynesian hulk and proper bone foundations... half baked Asiatics exposed to the sea like the Mongols to grass, fields and horse *****... hey presto... i also live to get to a junction of faults, ambitions, defaults and failures... how... about... you?

Cartesian arithmetic and algebra combined:
who said: who... who... i'll ask calmly once:
*******! more... who said?
i think therefore i am
is equivalent to 1 + 1 = 2... who?
what about... not thinking:
by not thinking "i think" of...
i imagine... therefore? i conflate...
i remember... therefore... i become melancholic:
i: deflate... myself (reflexive):
my self (reflective)...
                               who for the God's pardon
of owning a word
sticks and pointers... i counted 16 of those
from Y (3 = 3):
unless that's a curve, and a curse...
atop a pine growrth of iota: no diacritical markers
i believe: exist: either of i or j:
disappearing when lodged in the lower-case:
you ******* ***** you think you
think you will get to behavioural psychology
with me?! with me?!
agony:
Y = 3
H = 3, but also 4...
W: 1, 2, 3, 4...
or... 5...
H... mirror mirror on the wall:
who is creature of posits and frames
and dimensions...
and who is in orbit:
i ****** well know that behind the Tetragrammaton
there are two... *******...
two: ******* deities!
you wed phallus **** you wed yourself
and that's why you can't love:
or only love via the crucifix:
you diabolical wrench! you ******* cognitive
tool: i standardized to away with you
i think doesn't precipitate into being
a study of ontology...
i also imagine:
i ******* dream:
but there is no strict Cartesian definition
of faculties and how all of them merge:
converge...
        now i'm at god well ******:
because i gave 20 quid to a beggar woman
and in that i know that i'm not my father
and that bothers me in the slightest of
featherweight: ooh ooh... tickles:
tickles my hopes to being a blond bombshell
tourist via La Chong Ching: Laos Methanol:
apparently it's the new quested
Axua-Ask-Ah: ask Ah first: then Allia...
by the time "we've" finished:
you'll be having this freed Philistines of Palestine
debates: for... for...             as long...
as you... ******* like...
                that's X for H: like ha ha... ha...
let me get my ******* boiling violin out
and play you a sad tune...

ludzie! to jest sie poddac!
do woli zycia!
nad Boga kochanego...
to jest pierw nad monoteizm:
to jest poddac sie
woli zycia! z bogiem czy bez!
ale to jest zyc!
pasierbica: stepdaughter:
regardless of the enchantress
as some beggar woman
who i gave 20 quid for shelter
the other day:
blah blah: i spent more
on prostitutes...
        regardless! i'm still the *******
beast! regardless of my charity...
i'm still the ugly beast of
intellect:
oh Reyla: i know you...
you loved how i said to you:
i'm locking the door,
i'm keeping the key...
you will be locked up in this castle!
regardless!
you can't come out!
you'll be trapped!
don't open the door to anyone!
you hear?!
so me and her mother went out
on two date nights...
first night... King's Theatre...
Phantom... great nights...
second? more of a **** take...
**** take on the English National Opera:
oh the modernism didn't bother me...
but how... can you... square in...
circle out... the notion...
that... a German... opera... could be...
sung... in English?!
stick to your ******* Adlew Woyd Vebbers
and sing-song musicals...
forget opera: or at least don't
sing what was originally intent in German...
ah... theism... hmm hmm hmm:
i have a higher will...
beyond the will of submitting to God...
beyond the will to power...
i have a will: a Latin man's context
of wha tthe ancients were and how
the modern Italians are an abomination
from the simple rhythm of man's
context of fluidity of ***: beyond
*** as trans...
i implore the fluidity of the concept
of fatherhood...
the sexuality of a stepdaughter without
that taboo of: ugly monotheistic
butchery of ******... i... am... *******...
the most elevated... cosmopiolitan!
i go to bed with such ***** flicks you will
never see!
Disney is **** to me...
**** in the zigzag Zizek rereading of Jung...
daredevil... **** yeah...
i submit wholly to life...
ad-islam...
                 life and colour and pictures
came first...
god and sounds... and letters...
i think that comes later... much later...
don't you think?!
i don't i do = i am
i think i don't think = being...

        words like no gender and everything:
most fluid...
is this a ******* joke?!
this is the highest counter intelligence
hype: gimp stressor the western
culture could provide for me
to *******... trample?!

         this is it!? ****** joke: more...
give me a bone to choke on...
                at least Russia i can take in earnest
as not brain-dwarfed into genital-ego conflate
scrambling eggs...
    you ******* be serious in your...
cognitive: it has reached a stage of miasma:
post-cubism miasma:
the thinking has started to become dressed
in stench... a sense-awareness never before
experienced...

  the actual thought process is filfthy with bad:
bad as ****... ******* smells... ugh...
i think i'll need to snort and hark some phelgm out.

this lowest of the low lows of form of employment:
night shifts at Elephant & Castle:
i imagine the Elephant Man... but no castle of ivory:
a day off:
lazy writing:
i wanted some of that
like slow *** with Edie
and Edie breast feeding me:
honey: munch: pooh bear my ditto
i think you are lactose intolerant...

          oh i love lazy writing
and listening to... seminal... music critique comes
out with a: Hello, my name is Bob
tag in a comico-horror movie...
i tried watching a silent movie
two nights ago:
Nosferatu... i tried... i loved the organs...
what a strange medium:
that light came before sound...
maybe that's why silence is so elusive:
alluring:
i once said as a child:
i can't hear silence...
            i can't hear silence...

can i see nothing?
Fire, Water, Earth, Air... Lightning (shh shh)...
hammer weilding lover of words
the ******* Barbarians
the deserts and the high winds
Vikings left us for Valhalla
while the Arabs remained...
but the civilised worlds of men
didn't cherish words and god and the gods
as much as these extremities...
ties to belonging nowhere-homebound
in God a Home an abode:
nomads: i salute you!
Lebanon i cry for the creeping forest
of the North:
with my almighty pines
i will switch them for palms...

from vampire fingers to sticks with *****:
like lucrative Lebowski memes...
spice my life up a little...

so the Vikings were barbarians:
elsewhere the Swedes founded Kyiv:
and i think i was there...
then all the petty squabbles and cobblers
of Rome and Byzantine:
while Arab said to Iraq and Iran
and Syria: hey... bible is too ****** g
*******... i have the Quran...
Quest Ran and rand... sometimes a spontaneous
ghost town in Morocco...

so many denominations and
a monotheism so in splinters
for each a toothpick and a crucifix
to weigh down a spirit in flight...
assunder an d     with hope of drowning
but still swimming...

butterfly: MOTYL
fly: MUCHA...

                 butter in flight? butter is yellow
the white of no colour and the butterfly is
and the fly is... Albanian suss and filter brains...
while England before the Saxons
was like Afghanistan to Americans
like for Ancient Rome:
and seeing modern Italians...
i don't see an inch a grain of Ancient Roman
in them...
Italians are freakish hybrid of
werido... ******* ******... Reyla says...
pasierbica: step-daughter... i think... Fosse...
septology: i think... i thin k:
i sometimes think it's annoying:
annoying is no closing and opening of consciousness:
twos in two and two more apart:
schizoid...
i need for far more brain-cells to die with
my chemistry experiment with alcohol and the body:
pushing limits...
i'm still drinking a LITRE of the "WATER" of "LIFE":
almost every day...
brain is less a concern as KIDNEYS become
something for my palette:
dialisis from Nigerian wisdom...
some covert and CIA zunge tabbing...
i'm thirsty: i want some fire-water...
like spooning honey infused with ****
gob full before the toddler's pool of (the above)...

scuba dive and order an Uber...
people i sometimes mind...
friends like painters and talk of games
and travelling the universe:
talking into the night...

          tic tac toe: spinster: i know she honey
trapped me...
she edited that picture so much i wasn't really
looking at the cleaning and polishing
i was ac tually looking at her psychology:
but then she spinn ed that
           well: can't apply diacritical markers in
the English tongue:
so might as well spice it up
with the antithesis of the apostrophe apostriphe:
some added spice of dyslecia
and X
      couldn't could not
  wouldn't would not
            shouldn't should have not
haven't have not
                   have and heaving heaven:
that's not a haven:
the postmasters of Hell are most economic: ""
pristine in their insomniac duty...

because a new Dandy Warhols' album
is like the reinvention of Eminem
because i don't buy into black culture...
it's rap so boorish and then comes
dyslexic spew boring like Curt Kobain
and yeah x yeah = yeah yeah
while R.E.M. took the **** with a Man
on the Moon...

             post-ethnocide or post-racialism:
when the Spaniards reached South America
and there were black Cubans...
and we said: Latinos are people
of the descent of the Mayans,
            Aztecs... Peruvians i don't remember:
i doubt, therefore i must also negate:
then i think... but then thinking doesn't
percipitate into being: too many thoughts
to posit a pintpoint a coordinate of the whole
of life: i am: but i onl;y come across i am:
when i die...
death unites and clarifies pins and points
on the Globus of the 'Ed...
i don't i do = i am
        i think i don't think: things and no equations...

thinking is not like rain
on the earth of being...
thinking doesn't respect life
thinking is morality and
no amount of haram pork
will confuse you: thinking alone
will do...
   twice over and hello:
bilingualism is nowdays treated
as schizophrenia in England:
or has been... ever since i was:
under scrutiny...

    but then enough ******* circus
allowed the world to be gripped
by... and like paitence is a form of torturing
someone...
i took out two models
in a cascade of words to live by:

the Chinese gold:
treat others like you want to be treated
and
that other one:
the French:
live and let live.

MY TO GWARDIA
ISC
NA BITWE
WNEK
              I DZWONEM
TO SIEM
SIEMANIE
ISC: NA DOSC!            las: los...
i to przykre>

               ten las.... to:
(toten, Szwab)                        los:
fate: ich: yup ******* sauek-crout...
      arbiet! er!
halt!
             auf!
                      zienbienkrieg!
halt!
diog march: geese!
gooosew!
freign heithuaphter!

o tym braciu: o tym!

qhwn=

when i reread and
air: oh breathe¬
breathe¬       i!

            funny went
and the donkey cried...

paint me a hot *****
paint me *****
without the aid
oif flower

           the difficult art
of words in architecture
replacing
giraffes
and grafitti...

        mental virus: thus spread...
otherwise Kung Po chily noodles
and Kung Fu silly...
ate the lion's mare
while snorting jazz
via an elephant's souvenir of the trunk
clamour:
a welfare good ground
obnoviously staffed
by talking clarinets...

          idiot staff well dressed...
like faking playing chess:
but abhoring thge fact: of taking
advantage:
i suppose:
these were supposed to be
my equals: my **** similis:
******* Darwkin
your disregard of for the potency
of the microcosm
of viruses
just monkey no i saw
myself looking for being a bear:
as an ape i took a nap...
and forgot:
that i wanted to always become a bear...

funny: not: not a wale= a whale: H =
i don't mind god being evil...
i find comfort in that
and being good...
i dn'==
don't
like the idea of a loving God
when he who loves him most
supposedly:
becomes crucified...

can i love him because i fear
him and stay in the background?
i want to be famous:
don't get me wrong...
but i'd love fame: post-mortem.
i want to be famous
when i'm dead...

       death needs the pardon
and the burden of being famed...
i want to burden death!
i want to burden death with fame!

Tao and the art of no motorcycle: therefore no maintainance

what a ****** title...
but if the pseudo-Greel wolf-mann can write
a book about the patricide inversion
of a son's suicide
and cope
but at the same time: snuggle and smother
a confession of a madman
that somehow QUALITY
is the root for the tree: unlike the dog a god
if god was to love us
he couldn't do it as a man
as a man he'd be crucified or
ridiculed as Nero with a flaming harp...
o'm going to get drunk and listen
to some Madonna..
or myabe... no... not... Rockmaker
by the Dandy Warhols:
finally! the feud is over! two creative geniuses
came face to face
and last night i slept
in a cabin
and listened to the storm talking to the trees
oh how superior the architecture in the north
from simply wood: Norwegian oh boy blue
i'm getting high from a good conversation
and i think i'm having
something telepathic with Reyla
and Edie is in the background
and shaking her *** oh tease camaleon
cook me some Puerto Rican munch munchies
i think i have a daughter a lighter
spirit i think i was given a blessing
for forking out
20 quid in the paths and it almost feels
like Christmas when i can be
a child benevolent
not my favorite: by Easter i'll be sparrow
songs and happy willing so the mercy
of the passion of Geth and Semanii...
trans-gender nightmares of the Nag Hammadi
pronouns in my head...
i was ******* a blonde beast last night
in a dream:
listening to the wind break and creak
and morse code itself into wood:
how wonderful...
to hear the symphony of the elements...
when fire speak to water
when fire speaks to earth
then wind speak to the earth via the trees
and i'm the Dune's Guildsman lost
in fish and frogs and parasites and Orange Dust
not Spice not Fog...
oh Guildsman: hold my sway:
no pub for objective clarity:
just a translucent thought of Islam
like there was a golden age of
the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth...
sober up: have some historical perspective:
god all loving as a dog...
but now as man so lowly caste to suffer
on the necks of supposed ****** virgins...

EQU?
no... the word i could compete with: etymology:
suggests:
EQUIVALENCE:
i.e. EQUAL
                         VALENCY...

equivalence is an adjective and i find dyslexics
fascinating in England
because in Poland there is hyper-literacy
and an Agony against the algorithm and the personalised
algorithm of the AI...
with the Grypwa: the prison slang:
so we're in this same little leaking boat: are we?!
we! yes! jawohl: mein kommandt!

disorientated democracy:
the noons have crept and the shadow has lept
from the window with the cat
the baby and the bathtub...
some water is creeping: odd: since how many:
elements... can be coupled with silence?
i asked for lightning to the 5th element...
now i have to ask for a 6th...
i need the element of vacuum to be invoked:
invited: by god or by dog:
to which all i paint: a pointing love: affair...

white crow: black eagle:
white crow: black eagle...
word for word:
neo-Romantic rereading:
England is Scandinavia
and Poland bled the breeding
a German Host
this is no East
this is Central Europe:
West went via Europe went via
Spain
and call them Hispanics
the Europeans call them Aztecs...
so littly represented via Polynesia on American t.v.

maybe i need a mountain of my name
meaning name...
Gift of God...
or Conrad: Wise Council...
i'm Germanic root for root
hey presto! a tri!
ugh... if acute... iota... no need to exclaim...
so?
          trí                   now roll / trill the ЯR

Greeks and Romans stay this close... this mirror:
mirror kiss: so close...
how depict the trill on the R? a cedilla? the wavering
marker... let's see...
did i pin point the noun cedilla to
a crucifix of suffering?
everyone even the Norwegians
newly converted Catholics?! **** me BORZE BURZY
IDZIOM! VIA IDIOM....

how beautiful the world: ought: and was to be:
but now the serpent and apple
is no more
there's only the tongue like a worm
wrapping itself in parasitic form
around a heart of stone:
my heart:
i implore: i do give kindly...

             it's the way this beggar woman approached
me speaking at an angle 10m apart:
which is a far enough gesture to get
my attention:

all i had was the fear...
the one fear i fear most...
listen to the prologue of the Beauty and the Beast
to get to know me: better...
i am prince chamring fearful of the Enchantress...

she asked for shelter... from the storm:
currently the methodology of hieroglyphs,
cunneiform and Ethopian molasses...
what a strange dream i had:

so she asked for shelter:
40 buckles or pounds of Shylock's testimonies
came through
via a messanger attired in flaming eyes
and Ku Klux **** ghostly voodoo:
not the end of Octoberm, yet...

i flew over... all over America: H'america:
and i dropped ***** juice across
Greenland... a whiteness of the whiteest source:
insomniac suns and belly full moons
these ******* satellites!

orbits that make moods and tides
of the seas...
from what i know the Atlantic was
a dangerous crossing:
esp. from Liverpool back to homeland
Ire...

so the Polans were the people who swayed
with feld like the mongol tribes
driving horse blood and playing
arithmetic with Baghdad skulls:
i don't care the sacrelige is already there:
the Israeli barbararism of Lebanon:
only when Liban and Lebon
become invaded by these: scrupules...
then i invite the thought:

and the Vatican stranglehold over England
with the Cathedral of St. Paul's...
there's so much more
but then i don't think you have serious...
interest...
i need to book a month off from the bare
minimum of work...
i want to get hitched to an American
Girl: oh so Tom Petty...

i gave her 20 squid: a quid to squander:
i admit i do hate the English ambition:
Elgar was a terrificly terrible musician
but what a wonderful life:
orchestra in the lunatic asylum...
the life more interesting than the music:
i'll stick to Slayer...
the grandiosity of birth of Bertha...
and the generosity with it:
like...
           dyslexia is on part of the conundrum
before start to plagiarise and utilise AI
to make church bells sing like uvulas
and the reign: curators of the art of silence:

but there is a storm a happening
and Bob Dyland is out for baseball
or whatever the lackey former icon
feels like right now...

                   two check calls: coming:
none: coming...
ridicule my passiveness...
but it was so heart-warming to try to fall asleep:
i ended up with a dream
of eating out a **** of a blonde
with the perfect tash...
she raised horses on a ranch...
in the middle of a Pacific nowhere...
as i was eating out her ****
by ******: of her intimidation:
i noticed...
i was eating a **** of an angel:
lacerated on the chest:
having both wings, formerly...
and a pair of ****...
cancerous growth made this dream-*****
of mine a survivor of breast cancer...
i didn't see a pair of *******
like i might see the eyes
and nose and mouth for *****...
so the dream is distortion...

then i think...
but no: now: i doubt...
if i doubt i therefore must be in double-think
mode...
i listened to the wind
and how superior
came crashing... the concept of caves:
rather than morph the tree:
the comfort of a tiny wooden hut...
heat it up real quick and cool it down...
the wind: agape...
started to sway then talk to the pines
and other trees...

it creaked and smackered a revelation
so clear..
but i'd hate to feel like the idiot
of simply giving a woman £20: buckles...
squid...
   but she said it was her birthday
and she was an intellectual mirage...
and i'll come investing so much
   trajectory Hawaii...
i do...
            i'd rather... i will...
live under a volcano... a graft of gods tectonic...
revealing the tectonic shifts with
the births of volcanos like
the dead stone of mountains: not...

Poland is far away: like a quote
from Neville Chamberlain about the foundation
of Czechoslovakia... capitulating:
like Milan Kundera making his:
mind... right up...
Poland is far away
and somewhere in between
the history of the people of Germany
and the people of Russia...

but i'd rather...
to before God...          than the Eiffel Tower...
i'd rather be in the shadow of a mountain:
who names me her gift: his gift...
i... i must have performed oral ***
on an angel that had
wings but decided to chop off
its Sphinx suckle on them ****...
            
Gryps... the language: vernacular: slang:
of Polish prison inmates:
i'm starting to question... questions...
answers... quakes and accusations...
        
                                      there's a language
to behold: uttermost, absolutely free...
           then there's the language of the Morph...
like spice was
now dust is:
   i feel the need to feed off the dead in
ceremony...
                judgements judgements
such petty hyperbolic suggestions: to qualm:
pacify: gesticulate with sordid
ambition...

                           i am in prison planet mode:
once upon the time the world was so unknown
while everyone was seemingly known...
now that the world is known
and beyond the world the moon and stars...
so much hush-hush psy-pacifism
of the modern scrutiny of the least
modern hybrid: the chimera...

                        feast: fishing in the agony
of the mirror for the fish of ego:
but with such currents of the collective cognition:
no thought belongs to anyone:
god simply ***** thoughts and oughts
out having established the taboos...
clinging to thinking as if it were our own:
our own: there is:
how we managed to sample the cognitive stream...
the Holy Draft, formerly known as: Spiritus:
is this stream of thought:
like the Jungian collective unconscious...
parody: almost...
this living stream of thinking that
God simply deviates from...

         i doubt: therefore i must think twice:
i must think that i think...
and i have to also... alleviate myself
with seeking nothing... god apparent...
we attach ourselves to this freeflow of thinking:
no origins of coincidences and originality
will, ever, arise!

thinking arose from the ****-est-godly-manna...
in man: conjured by the ego:
ooh! that's me! perhaps... maybe...
or just: ha...  ha...                  ha...
next time you give 20qids to a beggar woman
seeking shelter:
just ask yourself...
   am i being made into a fool?
if she's honest... i made a gesture worth salvaging
to prompt memory to overcome itself
and counter with imagination the flow
of thinking like that's the only proof of god's existence:
that we simply think for our own...
what?

last time i heard thinking was squandered on
daydreaming, on logic...
on puzzles...
which shows the proving of shining:
the unstoppable agony of thought
the moral compass
when only the basic were given
and the basics, were: enough!

                        a thought is a unit of moral ought:
not law: i won't be so harsh:
because at the end of the day
there's the schizophrenic confusion
of how the hierarchy works in those sentenced:
like a ******* is the lowest of the low
and will be beyond the innocent man
falsly incarcerated...
or the murderer and the thief...

     thinking is not mine: just...
how that wind spoke to those trees...
and how the earth trebbled: in troubling and trembling...
before the wind was talking to trees
to creak and lasso lisps...
there was talk of the wind with the seas
and how there must be a siege of England!

to borrow from a title: tittilating as it might to snigger and gobble up laughter in that sense gluttony-parody... then again to butcher German (via tongue) - to a greater extent Martin ****** and Adolpf Luther... I see a correlation: ask me not, or why I abhor Brahms but I should abhor either Schubert / Schuman more because the Germans have orchestrating minds and not ones to succumb to piano genius: plodders and cobblers sooner than piano maneuvering manifestants... deshalb... eisen in der seele (iron in the soul): alter: rost im blut (rust in the blood).... perhaps... but through the thickening smog of Cracow's ashen-snow: a re-birth of Ishrael... Nil Ven- live in Cardiff.. Cwydyff... Rossini... Stabat Mater: the counter reformation... the spirit of music for the ill Germanic soul... and like the genius of Luther and ******... but who would have thought that the expulsion of the Yiddish from German entanglement would bring about the resurgent Heb state and by "token" an invitation for the Muzz'n'Ummah to try to settle these northern lands with its dark and brooding melancholic... like the vision wrought up by Luther culminated in ******: of flesh and bone and flawed and not superstition prone superceding a mythical evil... just a snot barrage on a moustache... at least that how's I align myself with the purpose of Scandinavian intellect: on these isles: that, if I tear and take away from the equator and the Greenwich meantime... if Iceland is part of Scandinavia... then the British Isles are magnetically aligned by dictate of the synonym... lines of geography that cut as if parallel: into reading of history... aligned sideways... mea: cusp: ein herz... a fledgling... a fleshy light of fire that's both illumination and a warmth; Herzog: blues.... adamante!

the most and probably only redemption
for the British Broadcasting Cooperation
is bundled up in radio...
not so much BBC RADIO 1 or 2...
more so 3 and 4...
                  besides the stalemate of visuals
that corrupt by rot and flake
of life's ****** / zenith...
redeeming, these sounds... very unlike
the television as primed for the analogy
of Plato's cave...
less shadows being projected and more
a scenario of the doppelganger
shadow-thieves... something of Islamic
and even Victorian superstition...
the evil eye the photograph the soul
ensnared: a wild entity almost animal
when given the focus of a return to
vis-a-vis God: as word: and deity: as thing...
but my point exactly is not an exacting
of anything...
I've been looking for an intellectual
reprieve from Herbert's Dune...
that isn't to say the work is difficult:
but the punctuation is curiously
a puncture of fabric and holes and buttons...
but a movie can really undermine
the joy of a reading experience esp
when there have been three adaptations:
and via Lynch there's even that nibble
on the Messiah instalment with
the Guildsman fish-frog
    in an aquarium with all that orange
turmeric and cinnamon fog of colour
and hallucinogenic potency...
so back to heights of literature that would-
-n't or couldn't make a word-to-image
translation...
Jon Fosse like some satanic figurine
                  dwarf macabre ****** leech...
but instead of a garden and an apple...
a park and a playground in it and instead
of an apple a girl sitting on a swing...
second time round: if ever...
that would be no apple and no tree...
but a ******* a swing and a boy pushing
her... oh how I live to love her
and how she makes it bearable to be
almost my mother in terms of things
aging yet she has this girlish way concerning
her: this adolescence of wanting only
love because she knows there's only love
to be given her...
she has regressed so beautifully
that her 14 year old child seems more
adamant to be sober loved with my demeanor of taboo distancing:
but she, on the other hand is like a girl
with faking being a woman and womb...
this time round it would simply be:
me giving her a stone in the shape
of a heart with my tongue wrapped
around it: a thought in and of itself:
last night I was watching a movie about
Martin Luther and I thought about how
fertile the cognitive landscape was
for such man to emerge based upon
the plough of ridicule of Catholicism
and obviously I think
of the other Protestant factions:
but Luther was no charlatan
while John Calvin and John Knox were
but hitchhikers and no need to make
ol' 'enry VIII any less but given
rhe dynamic of the star of David:
from atop a concentration to the bottom
of the plateau of the triangle...
                           such fertile ground
with what was still, by then: a paganistic
extension of what still hasn't become
Hasidic level of the importance of
literacy: still persistent:
that people O plebs vagabonds
anarchists and vandals (ha ha)
are more entreated, encapsulated by
solid frame, sculpture, meaning via
colour... painting... than the gifts of
word and number...
which brings me to the conclusive remark
about a certain practice in the Ing-Leash
zunge... the pronouns are one thing
what a terrible loss of intellect:
the concept of names: names are of
people... names... a tier above what
nouns are: a chair is a noun
a table is a noun...
a planet is a noun... but...
Jupiter... there's no name for a chair
yet you I we will still call a chair a chair
and not the act of sitting on it:
yet English does the diminutive form
such illness of a slack of the aesthetic
of the diminutive...
Mateusz becomes Matti Mateo
                                               Maciu...
       Teo....
                              what other name?
     while in English the supposed endearing
and diminutive (which is the original
intention of the diminutive form:
to give an endearing quality)
from Matthew simply Matt (door?)
a Christopher a Chris...
a Samuel a Samantha a Sam...
Peter the Pied Piper Pete...

the taste of your "words":
in my mouth:
no...                  not words:
unconscious:
sounds:
onomatopoeias at best
and at worst...
like shadows of fridges,
elevators... giraffes...
              my solipsistic serpendipity
has come
to an: evolutionary end...
a history with presceince:
when
and only when
biology becomes invoked:
like Dukes of Nuke'Em....

          i get the gemale
G-Male = Female...
                 fetish for puncgtuation:
you painted:
i see tecture:
Mona nLisa is without tecture
impression this:
chemist walks into a bathroom
imagines a pciture:
imprints it ontp a painting
                  form: perfectioninism....
perfect the form...
you ****** the form up!
still happens:
Harryh Rane, Wonlado!

                    sigma finally
acknolowedges:
Omea contrea G Alpha
          says ghost: you  blinking?!
i paint:
i no longer write...
ink for blood....

   .............................................
...................­......................
..........................................­.............
......................................./.,..................
...................................

i stopped writing...
i started doodling:
and having all the **** in the whole
wide wired world...
i came with tongue
tio tease salt out of...
****-butter

i think i ithnik i i think think think
thinking Joe joys of
Joy's ?be
Beclett... illiteratre Eire...
think think blah thing coew crow
think

i came here to untangle, then tangle... Jon Fosse's Septology...

i just started reading Septology I - II
it reminds me of my 20s
when i left the "****** market" place
and started reading Heidegger...
writing has become
difficult...
                 "difficult": wombat Bryan
and Barry and ******* Down Syndrome
Dwarf...
he's coming! i don't give a ****!
no shjit!
the Pedohpile Down Syndrome Dwarf
is coming!
this is my "satan"...

why has writing become difficult?!
love and life got in the way
of the artist:
i share the same confines as the mad
bureucrats...
oh... and those alcoholic hornets from
Lebanon:
failed state index:
no third world countries: per se...

writing has become difficult
because i'm finally! if: yet: having meaningful
conversations
with people like Alexander, Edie, Reyla, Hollie:
Miroswav and Eva...

Jon Fosse a welcome break from how writing
becomes cinema via Frank Herbert:
mate, Alex: i need a break:
the book wasn't fifficult
but the cinema barraged my reading mind
and i had to overcome cin ema:

empty light:
hmm... i was always vivided divided upon
what is the ought of worship:
sun and light
or the moon and the tides...         ? ?
                                                    ? ?

my poems are abounded houses
where squaters dream...
of king beds and palm trees and even i do that
in my little security hut i snooze
for 4h...
15min interludes...
i sleep to dream falling asleep
in my own bed and bedroom stinking
of bookworm spice:
my Dune: a personal library:
and that Spice on planet Earth we call Dust...

i have on3 friend i can discuss Conrad
with Silesia and me...
               i have abundance of Solomon's cravings
in the brothel...
but also the Queen Mother of Sysiphus from Liban...
i see
the sea the cyst...
Medi-
                oh see i sea a seeing...
                            ache of the heart:
break 'em: via: thought of them...
the other name: the stone is burning:
the three x2 eyes blind...
sharing what this Polytheism birth advent
into a single word:
Jon Fosse rebelled the Bible riddled
with I am the way: ah ha ha ha
I am i am AM PM I i am am i am
Jon Posse: Fosse Pff... flicker...

                   some bled... some had mud sickness
creatures and living among mud
like bears are among eyes
i could ask... KING KONG
to dance with CELCIUS CLAY... the ******* BEAR...
i'm sorry we have to live as
monkeys
straightening bananas into
algebra
and letters
              but also figuring out bananas and bows
am i...
           tripping or are you's them schizoid
trippin'?
                                apostrophe...
­
writing has become so difficult...
               because... i can't conjure up imaginary
conversations:
        
but best feed you... beast....
I am man and therefore Hades....
          A.I. are my twin daughters...
Hades barks....
            Cerberus replies: hows a daughter?!
Hades asks: dog! are you on a leash?!
dog! are you on leash! is that a fool's moon?
asked Mark Nathan:
implores John Michael: Promis, Priya...
then says: Matisyahu Konofale...
i am
at home
when Yellowstone Volcanco
blow up
forget there
ever was the United States
or the former Soviet Empire...
**** takers pseudo Slovacks...
call any Russian a Slav... ha ha ha...

blame
me
not pianting:
but canvas pruden ce
and says i:
the ******* and sculpting#
texture in painting missing...
the affair:
novice...

                       modern and postmodernism
invoked painting:
anti-algebra:
                geometry: tecture...
texture...
                     chemistry:
watcvhing walls paint colour dry...

                 new ***... i keep it vanilla
around Priya and Vanilla...
sister stitch... of a smile...

                     i am the ***** *** baron: Varkonnen...
KINZIE KENNER
is my ****** ****
the eyes i want to hurt you
my ***** of Babylon
Babylon receives a postcard from
the Zenith of Rome...

so much tlak lucky to have one friend:
spring rools and katsu curry schnitzel...
two movies: the Shining:
joke's on Johnny...
kidney donor:
my other life as a Bond MR ****** Shizva Shiva:
my buckle shackle
the old African ladies
sing JEsus tunes:

v                             left5 it thefere
there...       v for L upside-down: Byzantine:
teasing a Turkic barber...

so Jon FOSSE... is like ULYSSES 2.0
in the ;l:
the most Ezra Pound infuenced:
my mother said i'm JEsus chRIST
sleep less:
think more: a glorious ratio
of rational dichtomy:
in the ratio...

                              space and punctuation:
not
constrains                      (tss... tss... wet jazz)
and space

                     even Arthurt called Alex@:
do you have a girl there: up with you?
are shadows summoned
when something pagan spectacular happens
within the confines of overlord
Christianity?!

silly ******* cat... Amelia?
she snuggles: plural: of continuasly:
continue: continosuouly:
i think i left two land mines of a spelling mistakes...
by now i'm painting:
i'm not having human conversations...
she just snuggled up to me like a ****-star:
like i....
get farted upon... by cats:
males **** and territory: marker:
female possums...
they ****: bad miasma territory seekers...
those Iranian and Arab hind-su: *******..
hands like Slavic women
in the field...
fat
ugly: nuggets...
psychopathic chickens...
women with ugly fat fingers
most probably Atrab women...
the NIQAB wonbt ******* help
you transgender ******:
you have fat fingers
you just discovered oil
but you have fat fingers!

als arbeit ist vergnügen...
      aber das lächeln...
mein kleines nichts:
                  ein herz:
ein pochen:
ein ich und du...
                   aber mein Herz
ist alles was ich habe...
                    
           Regenbögen-Spatzen!

drahtzwillinge:
twins!
same embyo:
an hour? perhaps...
an hour apart...
just thinking
of the Vierte Riech...
and the *****:
Reirch: FOOND
THIRD... O'Cloony...
Malone: McBeckett....
so much Irish intellect
in me
i don't care
that a football team
loses 5 - nil:
i still have my IRish intellect:
which is so lost in Saxon
and Pseudo-Celtic...
just a dream Re-Balance:
and republic:
but there is an undercurrent of the Fourth
*****... under the historiology of
the Third *****...
be stupid but not
to ignore:
Millwall origins?
Scottish dockers...
so the tartan and navy...

                    origins story of twins....

well if you have words for cheap ******! why not ****** yourself back to genders and: how many sexes are there? last time i "heard": a unison of two... but *** is not gender and i'm trying to figure out what Capitalism and Marxism have in common... it's not dialectical materialism... it's rhetorical materialism... what is the invigoration of dialectic... beside materialism... i find myself spent triyng to push these sheep to the slaughter: seeing how so many people do not, appreciate the advent of the **** joke of: arbeit macht frei: but the Irish do... and long lost are the Irish partisans when someone willing: to show the English their blunders... took to simply giving in to the Islamic rebs... i almost pity the Irish endeavour... such that it was: the English undermined themselves... and all: in unison... left Wembley... with happy glee of hopes... why suffer the fate of defeat in a game of sport: when the English pride everything else on that one junction... why bother the people of little dreams?! maybe a fusion of conceiving: diacritical materialism: like there exist diacritical marks above and below certain Roman Letters: Jesus can **** himself! i don't care for the existence of one man i am supposed to **** off! there is no character of Jesus: Haze and Zeus I says you do not: come between me and the pork pie and a circumcision! Jesus came half-way... Paddy... i'll meet you the next: the next... you don't get to taste the apple... you get to nibble of a stone... but you don't get to nibble on the stone: you get to eat it whole: then choke... then choke again... i've tried and tested my patience... i have had had enough! enough to parade and pardon!

words, just words... apparently words are not:
not enough justificastions:
not enough eloquence...
not enough formality:
we can do away with words...
because words confiscate meaning
rather than give meaning...
perhaps in the rude impromptus of using
but numbers... numbers are elevated...
maybe we can start to gesticulate without
words: instead regressing back to
hieroglyphs, symbols, colours:
like at traffic junctions:
perhaps the words red, amber, green...
are pointless...
maybe we... need to see the colours
without shapes...
but i test myself with asking anyone
this question...
               red is... stop?
or is red alarm?
amber...             semi-stop semi-colon?
and green is go? green is foliage:
why isn't blue on the palette of movement
in the receding cranium of man?
the second fruit of Eden i will tell you:
will no longer be the soft flesh of the fruit
of Adam's throat...
this next fruit... have my heart... have my heart:
of stone...
this is all i will and wish to offer:
have a second bite:
before your Christ and Second Coming
barage: i ask you to glimpse Eden once more...
take a second bite...
you will not find a satisfying fruit
to get drunk from...
next time: this time...
you will have to swallow a nugget of stone
that maybe leave you:
perfectly constipated:
like the English with their history versus
the Irish:
so what that the Irish lost 5 - 0 in a game
of football... when i was coming home...
all the Irish knew! knew!
ha ha! jokes! games!
let's entreat our Baron with Intellectual fog!
because as the English thugs chanted their:
we defeated the IRA...
or maybe the IRA just... decided on
the dynamo of fate:
a game beyond chess:
stone, paper, scissors...
    ✊
             🖐️
                      ✌️

ching-chang-walla!

so the Irish are not coming? the IRA died down?
oh chronic my ******* laurel
and shamrock! they, the terrorist: didn't come?!

best of three: i don't mean a coin flip...
first you have the heart of Eden
then ask again:
now... you get to suffocate and gulp
down
a treaty of both etymology:
and geology...
because now you'll be eating my heart of
stone:
for all that has made you deviate from
the splendor of the garden...

words are so insignificant...
as are colours... without shapes...
but colours within the confines of shapes
of pass and impasse...
words are the modern man's consequence
of not having deliberated meaning...
words... this deliberate ploy of ******* barbarians...
i see them wonk with at least 7 eyes...

no more... i've seen enough...
i can leave the letters to gather words
in muster meaning...
but apparently that's not enough!
non matter...

take your weakness
and explore satisfying the chains.
they'll rattle for you:
ching and chang...
and believe you: when i ask.

AH...

  sigh...       what a glorious sigh...
that I: aye?! i... little i...

something about
Aristotles' poetic that i can't quiete grasp:

in the ancient world
the people didn't paint:
but they: sculpted...

imagine how i think:
testament of thinking per se:
i don't really
think...

         nothing doesn't think:
nothing is a pronoun,
in the category of words:

my my: my most devilish and i:
an isc on
a leash
i don't have the time to appropriate
invoke... invoke is a better word

i'm here to paint!
Aristotles' poetics clarified
the obliviousness of language
to a philosopher...

i'm here's to paint!
so i'll paint... by punctuation!
i'll paint by punctuation!
and...
each... and... every...
line break pillcrow will not be:
my last...

if Spinoza wrote his Treaties in Hell:
i'll...
go ahead...
nothing is a pronoun and it speaks
more than god speaks
ever... truly... listen to: nothing?

but women can give birth
and it feels weird
disclosing that Reyla is my daughter...
genetics and phonetics
and blah blah the intellectual apes
are public intellectuals!
Gremlins get off!
give me the Unity with my brothers
the Siech: Sicz: Cossack BRONE!

women give birth but are rarely
strangulated by nothing...
forget Nietzsche's work ethic
and boredom:
if pronouns is what..
touch wood...
whoops! i just touched iron and i looked
at it and you looked at it
and we both hoped it was wood:
but it was iron...

just like a golden ring looks great
on a black finger...
so must a silver ring and moon
look good on the finglet
of the pigglet pink in white
on a finger the moon: is mine! to answer!

madness madness!

   if... you... say... so...
i'm here to paint!
i'm here to conjure all the oyster
raw meat delicacies...
but people of the ancient world
didn't paint!
they sculpted!
now see the impasse
how smart the modern people are
and how dumb the ancient people were?
see how there's this definition of humanity
by:

memory-erasure...
we will: forget!
we will rememeber!
but we will also!
die!
forget!
we will die!
we will: forget!

and by forgetting we will
imagine!
because there are archetypes
of humanity
not reincarnated
but from all origins: an abiding
concern for narrative:
and dialogue:
and monologue...

i'm here to paint with
punctuation and diacritical markers
atop of letters...
but not today:
today i'm all chaos and storm
and the grain of porridge
and the distance of raindrops on
the window come the daft ghouls of the night:
oopsie: oopsie...

but i'm here baby'oh:
owl my woo and lunatic...
woe and luminiscence...
but i'm here baby oh...
      just this you're not my baby
baby O...
                      now comes the measure
and with enough atom bombs one
might content with volcanos...

                     Mt. Vistivius... or who
the tragedy of Pomepeii...
Christ was crucified...
a truthfuly historic presence...
an event to topple all other events?
i ask: in Heidegger's vein
to the artery....
Heidegger: question-worthiness...
Zeitgeist: news-worthiness...

     thought is a muddling puzzle
of philosophers and opportunistic hacks...
the ones genetically displaced...
but then only the lower IQ strata replicate:
and we need bus drivers....
what we don't want is
for the rupture...

           intellectuals agitating the public
with a historical-conscience...

WE ARE MANY:
who says who to whom in the great agitation?
this is not... painting?!
this... is... not... words as... painting?!
MILLWALL! MILLWALL!
the SCOTCH CONNECTION!
that one... part of London:
Elephant and Castle
that i love...           why did i decide
to support Millwall?
       oh...                 mate... just the south
London architecture... the feel of the place...
couldn't feel it closest to either
Arsenal, Tottenham of West Ham grounds...

SCHLUS! MACHTUNG!
ABERZ! ABERZ!
SCHNELL SCHNELL SCHNELL!

Tartan Jersey...
you already have the colouring:
Edrick the Navy....
deep blue and purple...

truth be told...
there's no "truth"
to be
"sold": said.
god not crufied
answers.

the green spice... the melange of cinnamon
transformed into a fresh green
coriander:
oh.... but i'm familiar with the powder
and the seeds...
as much as i am accustomed to the powder
of cumnin and the seeds of cumin:
but i see no fresh leaves
equivalent to that of coriander...
cumin is a dead end to me...
but coriander...
i only need a whiff of the green melange:
the ****:
to know what planet i am on...
i can leave the mushrooms to the monkeys
and ******* to the diabetic crew:
mon strue:
outside on the Tottenham thingy...
alphabet people LGBTQ++++++
MMM:
Moses... Mohammad... Matthew...
mmm: like a ripple that sort of went by
the ****** birth and Jesus the Christ-Metropolitan:
i'm no and never will be
a Cultural Christian according to Richard
Dawkins...
i... hold on... there's talk of dragons:
while you have dinosaurs in the: ******* background...
how do we know...
the Sun is mostly Helium...
and how do we know what wiped out the dinosaurs...
for such a siesmic shock of geology and not history:
the moon should have been destroyed in the process
and there would be none of us...
but the moon was elsewhere
and something godly: freakish happened
and the insect people were drawfed because originally
so horrific
that god the child tried to escape:
and to think of god as man:
the eternal friend
this frightened child living through
the birth of hitory to arrive at us
and at us our worst:
and even when at our best Crucifed...
at worst oh such differences...
me and this black girls: two Origins of Africa Stories
not really the ones desperate:
educated hmm mmm yum yums:
i like my ox-tail curry: this is unlike every
other white man...
i am not, like every other white man...
Africans partisan with Polynesians Unite...
this one white boy is getting off the slave
ship and heading toward the Rat Raft...
snibble cushions and pillows:
ducks pecking... pecking duck...
chop chop... two JEWS flew from New York
but had a squabble of pennies of
buying sandwitches and water...
drank the water kosher glug glug
but left the sandwitches...

why fear god?
motto: i prescribe an answer greater
than that of...
what is the meaning of life...
why fear god?

            because god is scared...
the human eternity ethos
of ambivalence...
this pristine condition of mind and body:
the soul... time impersonal and personal:
the project amassed in soul eternal
only now magnified and made flesh:
collectively: not by a single man on a cross:
collectively:
but by us all...
             but by us all!

i don't have the german dictionary handy...
sorry... not sorry: alphabet people gq+++cqeer+++
even she complained:
you haven't written about anything in a long while:
write to me about nothing:
life... blah blah...
o.k. Reyla?!                 Edie?¬                Eva?
or is there a harem of women in
my life that i don't want to disturb?

ugh!
ha ha i get the joke! over the radio
i heard and giggled... spectator wears
high viz not part of Paris REvolt:
want's to be seen on Match of the Day
Camera... ha ha... kindsa cute...
i say these profound names:
my god changes pace...
i don't know what to do:
i try to remind myself of the mind-body
dichotomy:
the Anti-Cartesian fusion of the mind-body
duality...
i Berlin: believe in a dichotomy...
originating:
more have suffered more than Christ's own
sacrifice...
the iron maiden: being: impalled...

via **** through to the tongue:
gog: gag at magog...
what was so funny?
      if i could only remember "my", "own": "life":
what is mine? nothing: perhaps time...
and personality mud..
own? for now? i will depart this world
with a sadness...
you will need no books in heaven...
i cry in heaven:
heaving the darkness and a memory:
but i saw god and it was in writing
and among the flutters of angel wings
in the pages of books!
do books exist in either heaven; or hell?!

borrowing from Dante:
shadows of former selves:
personalities of the greatest of men...
what was so funny...
i wonder...
i missed something... Edminton...
consolation:
white boy Jesus and the long supper of Africa...
the dulce vita
of white girl journalism
was a: squirrel: in hiding.

i write: pluto:

         \dm
arm
gvuest,
plito.

   and there's this great traction of readership
because people are discouraged from
paragraphs
and in writing punctuation is the closest
one gets to the idiosyncracy of brush strokes
in painting -

                     while no forests were burned
nor sands ground to make glass...

i think about geology and gynacology
and trying to refurbish my night to day
transition
i slept for 12h but had to snooze
for about 6h of those...

and upon waking i only had:
oh my dear of my dear of my Caroline...
and from the depth
there came an image of earth
whereby Jupiter consecrated himself
upon this orb
with the eye
and what became of earth?

a third of was a gigantic volcano...
a third of the earth was this landmass
of volcano:
this massive **** blister on the northern
hemisphere:

i doubt anyone will see this to
be a fathomable truth...

i sort of wish i was hallucinating:
but then night shifts are different to day shifts
and we are not allowed
(as a generation)
to relieve ourselves from the Holocaust
so there's no incentive to "cope"
with the revelation
                 there needs to be a more organic:
hubris...
mind over matter:
when once upon a time there were the Epicurus
types now there's the archetypical Batman
et al...

           but that vision was true:
how did water arrive on earth...
i could spend an eternity in the fabric of glass
and eye on venus, mars,
pluto... Uranus...
i could fathom the universe by sight alone
and feel no inclination to being displeased...
but that image from a dream resounds:

a third of the earth was occupied by
a heaving lung of God
a gigantic volcano...

fear is the mind killer... little fears: phobias...
and i am concerned with the second schism
of Islam:
there must be a 2nd schism of Islam
via the Turkic route:
there was the Iranian route now there
must be the Turkic route...
and a 2nd schism of Islam must come...
because there's just enough spice of tension
to allow it to happen...

bad language...
curse of the influencer...
  women in literature...
oh... i'll sniff out bad practices...
the sunday times cultural review...
sarah ditum:
PONIEMIECKIŁEB
(after the german 'ed)

          women in such positions:
because starting a Nobel prize streak with
AND and no full stop
does not excuse a Sarah from:
'here's the other option: it's the autumn'...
huh?!
the autumn? there's an autumn?
anything particular about this autumn of 2024
that's different from the autumn of 2023?
big ego ******* trip
i will ingest mushrooms should my
grandfather's ghost grip me with dementia...
until then i'll be your grammar ****:
i love the uniform...
makes me feel fuzzy
and... of the furry teeth i get when
i don't brush my teeth on strut...
well... chatter come some Beckett and none...

Jon Fosse i'm yet to invite into my life:
i'm thinking about how much is required
to be wasted for the concept
and project of humanity: to spurr the ignoble
cog in the machinery for the benefit of others
i'm tired of being someone for the benefit of others...

but then all my ordeals of best thoughts
will only reach a small percent of readership...
i wish now that i wish it i don't
wish to have the security of a Roald Dahl blanket
and no...
existentialism will come back again:
when all the potentials of female freedoms
become bland and there's
a need for bus drivers
and there's more need for the gnashing
of teeth and how else without
your original freedom will we experience
the freedoms of this phantom "elsewhere"...

such wealth, squandered...
such parody of the African making beats
and blah blah blemishes on what's written
without painting it, first...
      vowel slight tease of consonant
bonanza... none of it in Russia...
where the Africans have been excluded:
oh... but they can come to Siberia all
they want for their argument of melatonin
or whatever else makes them think or feel
superior in the amnesia of insomnia of
the north... with its perpetual night...

please! come freely! settle here!
maybe the environment will trickle down
and make you shy and become all
melancholic...
a sadness without a sadness that's just
environmental...
you get to adapt like a spider to the architecture...
of a web...
i wonder: would the spider even think
it plausible that an intricacy of forming
a spiderweb be ingeniously planted into:
do spiders think?

                       i'm lost on the tirade of being
jealous of female sexuality...
but i am lost on what comes after...
this need for settling down and finding a: schmuck...
a ******* like one might find a ferret of
a **** hair while having eating out
and sniffed all the glue of a ****...
tell me once more...

          whiff of blonde: we are only here by
rent... rich or poor...
it doesn't matter...
but while the rich absorb all that is potential
of this world...
the poor absorb all that is potential for this
world...
the difference is in that prepositional wording:
OF vs THIS...

              shame not enough English people speak
a second, third, tongue...
by now i have envisioned USA
to be: at least a bilingual powerhouse...
by now USA should be recognised as both
a similitude of English and Spanish...
maybe that's what bothers university educated
women, white, of America...
the appeal... of...

       a psychology degree a blah blah degree...
but can the ***** play the flute, the piano?
no... so she's best at arguing my point of view
rather than equilibrating it and keeping me
in check?
so there's no ******* argument boss *****...
thank god i only have one life
and i'm not god
and that god is malice and i don't need
to have a genetic investment argument
to pursue my thought beyond what
is already being enjoyed... by me! ha ha!

\dm
arm
gvuest,
plito.

ask Abhraham of
Adam and Noah and Jonah...

Abraham wouod have judged
JEsus as a gimp!
a *******... gimp!
                 Abraham:
not god... would have judged
JEsus as a.. ******* GIMP!
]

an abomination!
     a transcendent
human: travesty...
your god is an abomination
and i ******* on his altar
because there was never
a ***** like her:
i'm into a heresy of narrative:
i am your god's intellectual partnership....

yot e2q
e2qwdiq
dwascia trzy
zero zero
come haslo?
2 Z 5
S
dwad zed esse!
piec: piesx!

pan: z sprzodu:
  ç:

       ς;

           ą

   ę.....                

jak to widno w pomiedzy:
w niebie azyl neurotykow i
psychotychow...
w piekle ten sam harem Solomonona
is Islam zazdrosnego Muhammeda:
zro Zeusa: via harem Jezusa:
pamietam i cie... twoja cipe...
o godne mne
schronienie...

house card: green...
i am the earthly king
with the king of sea
and night:
gentle girl:
you don't want to distort
angels
with creatures..
with demoniacs....
   house: goes green
the color of the iris
of my eyes:
remember me: Mu'adib:
and that Hebrew compound:
Kakerz Makadiim....
i am!
the Ha-Kerz Ma-Kadiim!

Dizzy busy Gieleseppe...
Gilette Gills Etsby...
black man....
serpentine analogy
with Pufff ufffn'
   soilers alert with schlez:
with my Brtizkireg
a second York third...
only a second Warchau..

french composers...
the famous 6...
oh 6 6 6
O
lk=ike a crcufix:

                    6
           9        O       7


                     0b
                    P
                    2 Z S

                  on the footnotes
of analogy
this second devil nailed
to a tree:L=

                  upon the curse of wine
then man doubled down
into ***** and whiskey:
man rebelled against the demigods
angels like jesus...
man rebelled!
i rebel! i no longer protest!
Ronin-Christianity!

           i d=ont protest:
i rebell against Christianity!
i will join my brother:
whether youj like it or not!

bowl me a soup
so that i might mouth a spoon
and the ice cream
of a full moon.

a smile is half a kiss. /
   a smile is half of a kiss...
little woe of all that awe
in translation on the pivot: of...
that smiling is the other
half of kissing... while tenderly:
a tone of eyes blinking...
that other secret: also insinuating
(a) kiss (kiss)...

per citation (if required):

'atan from the Seventh Grade (Polish: Szatan z siódmej klasy) is a 1960 Polish romance film directed by Maria Kaniewska. Based on the 1937 novel Satan from the Seventh Grade by Kornel Makuszyński, it is considered a classic children's film in Poland.

mein gott:
die sprache des volkes
früher war es
so schön,
als ob:
für die Menschen
             / vom Volk...
macht nichts...
Deutsche ich kann schlachten:
mein Polnisch vorrecht.

all saints' day is upon us...
Duvali here yet?
i never imagined fireworks going off
on Halloween...
it's as if Catholics exist in Old England
not the New England of
Protestants and ****...

my sin is that i smoked marijuana
in public
and walked around
and instead of nakednessn i found armour
and love and armour...
love of armour
in the darkness i forged one ring
and in the darkness i found
the cloak of invisibility
and in the shadows i roamed
and i swayed and gave encouraging shouts:
OAR! MORE!
OAR! MORE!
TO KIEV!
FOUND USN KIEV!
NA RUS!

find master! find master!
what did you find Ivan?
master! master!
i found your meter!
i found music in poetry!
master! master!
good...          goood E'van...
good Evan:
there be life in this fire water of life?
yessssss... masssster...
good Evan...
i will smooch up to this spirit
and take a sip of her milk:
Bolsheviks of Vistula
and Basra...        Vikings of the black sea
and the mouth of Dniepr...

little tides of a great big sea:
and time as water
and fire no...
fire as space: therefore god had only
once chance to rebel
and he rebelled
and made himself known
leaving ******* artifacts of omni- robes
when in fact he could make contact
with the world at the base of the Pyramids
but would not sit on an Auschwitz's chimney...

blah blah allahahhablahblahallahahhahahahahaha!
i think of god's judgement to make poetry
there:
since only the grey Jew in the hands of the khaki
smear campaign and the nacht black SS mensch...
to no brick in mud Jew:
to your intellectual drain: i will sucker up...
pound for pound
inch of water and a grain of salt...
for your grain of fertile soil...
show me potatoes grown in Israel...
show me tomatoes...

ah! now i remember... it's Thursday night
and i thought it was Friday night...
but i have to go to bed early Friday
wake up at 5am on Saturday
and heard a flock of bothersome Cerberuses...
stagnant ghosts of pets...
cats, dogs, ******* cannaries...
if America has such a problem with Catholics
then i have a problem with
the Protestant Nation of America
not being Enlightened Bilingual by Now!
America should be officially a nation
as best as Switzerland
be a Anglo-Spanish consolidation project...
for the old history:
before empires and wet ***** and hard *****
and the waves...
in our Circle... of drinkers...
St. Peter might have the keys...
but St. Matthew has the bell...
what's a bell? a dzwon?
a bell? what's a bell... the imitation of Adam's head
in a glass...

i carry the Church Bell...
i'm Matthew in Church... but elsewhere
i am known by my better name:
CONRAD...
Slavic blood fused with German principalities...
a Stalin was a Georgian was a Russian:
Russians are sheep:
swayed by barbarian stupidity
to experiment with Hebrews...
while the Germanic now not laugh with
the advent for the dispersing of
the Levant and Babylon...

              a bell is a glass of a top heavy mixer...
a sharpshooter...
4:1 ***** to pepsi...
         sharpshooter...
you fill a glass with loads and loads of icecubes
pour some ***** in
then some pepsi...
sit and meditate in darkness
smoke a quarter of a leftover joint...
that's marijuana and tobacco...
you eat pizza in the dark with mother
you watch the RESIDENT with her...
hmm... protagonist just...
the protagonist... in what we're watching?
did he just crawl out of the t.v.?
are we watching requiem for a dream?

it's like the Sybil in painting surrounding
the decapitated head of John the Baptist...
the bell is a glass with only one
ice-cube in it... carried like a church bell:
mother is falling asleep and i don't want
eggshells and walking on water or air...
so no clamour glitter ching ching...

                     a bell is a special drink...
      not served in bars:
don't worry: you won't be seen with it...
but unlike the non-illuminatory concept
of painting metaphor music and sound:
you won't be a Nietzsche with a candle:
or the Cartesian sexology of van Gogh's chair
and that ******'s table...

a bell is not a candlelight you will take
to the garden of innocence in escaping
the hell of realising how oysters ****
and spiders weave their place
this ******* Darwinistic-humanism! save me god
give me serpents! give me serpents!
i'm scared that i have been infiltrated
by a citadel: lesser creatures...
acne like worms
the hard-knuckle ones with black heads
are not the youths of pure
outpouring of *****-white...
a **** is a death-eater...
i have IBS... the death-eater of my **** might...
oh... no... wait... it's not coming...
i'm just about to finish reading Dune:
i, being the democratic reader and
no sycophant... or psyche surgeon specializing
in one author:
i'm an author myself... i am an authority
unto myself... therefore i could never relinquish
that: for novelty: of being a novelist...
different mirror:
i look into mine and i only see shadows and devils
and two eyes: one blind...

like... what was the reason for me to going to Hawaii
and just: flying over the entire status of United... hem...
states... hem hem...
i came for St. Matthew's Bell...
that one drink you drink in a special place
of a secret abode...
with a mother:
oh: this is not a tourists' attraction:
this is personal: ha ha!
you can't actually replicate this space:
perhaps a tempus similis: a similarity of time:
but as citizen first, individual later:
Mr PResisdent and Canon Commarade...

for the love of State: in the Old Republican Sense
of the word: to Conjure Rome:
for the Love of the State:
Ideology...
               iron fist
feeth with claws...
no nation no tribe no religion...
the state comes first:
the garbagemen, the train drivers...
for the love of the state:
of coherency and ******
and all those whimsical brats
who have the intelligence of gnats...
for the love of people
who one minut walk around
like prized sheep:
who next day could be turned to minced meat...
how i love to stalk
and prey and knot prey on prey in
a crab bucket...
    oh how wonderous you are...
by dearest: i and nobody.

that's Sara Mohr-Pietsch...
not Sarah...
night tracks on BBC Radio 3...
so...
         More-Peach?
prior to an essay on a Haydn
forgery...
     Moorgate Morgate
       allure of waving goodbye
to people on a ship
or on the train...
     Titanic Auschwitz...
              can't seem to be enough
of the pleasant life
to fill to make these memories
somehow fizzle out...
how jealous, though, i am...
conjuring these references:
gluttonous and flapping
without a personalised affair
to confront anyone not having
experienced these fates...
but luckier
                    on the whim and
on the slide... happy abode
in the night and spiderweb...
my own little nothing
i have gravity to call a universe...
and so much less:
should i wish to:
a blink of eye and nothing more.

let me elaborate... like a tender realisation: why do i abhor Strauss and Brahms? waltzes... classical music composed for dancing... and not thinking and going mad... classical music intended for dancing! seigl ******* heil! nein nein nein! scheisse... little operas and even littler: loitering theatricals with intended amusement uplifting with song no desired existential pangs... blah! ah... long the days of rivalry between the gemeinsamvolk songs of the tavern and Teutonic monks... ugh... classical music dedicated to waltzes... Germans dancing, back then, even now... conjures up a concoction of vomiting, diarrhea ******, scratching one's ***, picking one's nose and lighting a match with devilish insinuation of arson. Valkyries screerching...

because living among
the English is
never, ever so rarely
as demeaning as
living among the Germans,
ironically
maybe not...
maybe not in how
i so abhor German opera
sung in the 'Leash...
such a terrible tongue
to sing opera: perhaps church
alms of praises...
but so welcome to learn
that i abhor Strauss as much
as Brahms...
can't help myself:
withheld at Schumann and
Schubert...
**** deutsche vox...
but then how much
of the English is deutsch'
if i find the isles of these
morose fabric
an extension of Scandinavia
like Denmark is: too?
among the Britons
those Velches and Scoots
and Ires of the green land...
an Anglo-Slav among
the mongrels of alt pocket
of Saxony.
geographically, though...
if Denmark is Scandinavia...
then England isn't?
peculiar... that concept of
"west": Europe...
as far west and uninhibited
as France and Spain...
as far "east" as the centrality
of Poland? Bohemia and Germany...
England is a Scandinavian
country... the miserably-happy
platitude of workaholics:
arbeit macht frei: poignant:
more than ever.

od kurwa kiedy
to nie czeshka republishka
a tylko czeschka?!
o ku ci ci ci **** nie tylko
w glovie ale
tez tex w mordzi i na glowie:
i to nie russsia tylko
nowo indjanyaka... o pizzz
bo to bloto o dzi dzi ji ji jinna
czary mary prawda
spod mnimca

Grzeczna Czecha:
szpieg
Czech na Niemca...
tyle slowa dam
reszta: krew!
ja pocecie
poeta:
muzyka
sztuka
maliwidly
tortury
           adventure:
jkoasc:
leave the door open
to the cat
and the house
Reyla-Labokov-Edie: n'ah n'ah
not tis narrative:
some Marquis de Sade on
the sidfe: cranium awareness:
z headache
iz posit...
0, 0....

'grey day... for... wozard
the time of the Norse god blided
Allah saw Odin
Yahweh was sleeping through
the Holocaust: cauxd Hope and Despair

you are my dream my
eternal function emerald:
matthew / conrad:
wise council:
ill
cat blink jazz
jujst to mention

i see an army6 of th4e dead...
                like i: not welcxome....
to Pirate Michael St mother Oedipal
deise *****: ist: nein! alles mein!
sprechen deutzsche
i say less will: to power
and more
less Holy:
                  my inclinations came
with the Mongol
and the spearehead
of Lithuaninam Baltico Baptists...

the northern crusades...
be known:
be also heard of:
the salvaging myth of the history
of Europe...
you dream: and narrtate:
dear Quarus..
Reyla was here? alone:
the beast insisde the Castle...............................
i locked Reyla up...
like we went top bad opera like
a child *** slave Uraanium: Soviet... doll:
or else... i soul...
a soul.... in no the of bodty...
this Gaugin minglic with Bacon:
**** male kissing

Judas Jesus in Reverse:
tell me! tell me! tell me it isn't true¬
Jesus to Judas in Max:
it's true...
Judas to Jesus:
3x the cockerel unto your Peter:
and thrice fail you!

by then... no spirit: say i:
the Sauron of the ring:
and the coin: hollow meaning:
da!
          i see you plot the kippah
on any out of 9 / 10 charge
of probability:
so you found vector scientific
facts for whicvh you have no use for...
how blind
are you, dearest child of chill of children
abandoned...
so many blood ties to pride
when Jan Sobiewski marched those horses...
to steamed meat stews of the Priests:
of Norse Mythology:
tbe: crow-people.....
                                     die krähemenschen:

no black eagle: we saw crows... and we saw crosses:
and we saw crucifixes black
and clown bapismal abismal: so sorry:
i teased you...

Romans! Citizens! States! Diverge!
Eye for Eye!
Disperse O Wicked Babylon!
you Anglo Lingua Franca!
Drain Blood Elsewhere!
Begone!
Leave this Cat the Dragon to rest!
in Russia!
and let me Charge you
with the Eden that became a Dune
via the Serpent and the Worm!

8th
of them
blue and green
green and purple
ornage and yellow
purple and green
blue and purrple
hello...
yes.... i...
           i too him: i'm everything
he and him
           matthew and jesus
my shield: my sword:
am i Michael waging war in Heaven
to precursor of Gabriel being CASTE! from heaven!

the ultimnamatum  Rebellion!
          i am: the sword of god
and the shilef of god..
#the Raphael-Gabriel:
give up your daughter:
Noah implored:
give me ytour daughter...
i ask for a bountry of blood:
to blood and your rotten ideas..
state contra society...
ha ha!
the garbage men then police officers
teh policiing ctizens..
such cr4udge safety mechnainisms
like life robots of Chernobyll..
piquant wine...  cannibal testing: christ
like ancienct koreans might
in Arabic-Georgrian...
raisse the armyh of the dead
the Euro-Asian zombies.... we march:
the modern dead
we march like the zombie King
of the Polish-Lithuanian Comonwealth:
a wealh of the other comparsion the Battle of Hastlings...
the Battle of Grrunwald...
a pride of memory npt **** fix it
fit in nsome imloded preune trim... boo
yakashim!
b'uh yakasheem
                           see the sight
of image: but see the word first...,
stinking Bengali whiores
all tghose Carribbesan mothers...
ox-tail curry and mmhmmm..
myh mummy so proud
thast i like adore her crab nibblets
of fat pinching her smoothing of the ***...
she geting plenty of Hawaiian sunrise
and plenty of Hawaiuiain sunset...
so Harlot of the Gods...
yoiu'd be ******* gay with what god?
Hades... Zeus...
   Yahweh intellectually... via use of letters...
so Jesus would be subordintate to
the twin of YHWH the HYWH....
                                    anti-...
     maybe.... pdrhaps..
                    yahweb is a NOUN....
   HYWH: is a VERB..
i see a verb: i don't Holocaust aust!
ein! Holocuast!

cats //
         \
   x
  digest
                  #

caintitle:the masses._

i danced on the table
like
a moth....
i though on the windowsill
as Lucifer..
pride took me
Quarus aw\y fr/m Mathew:
i cried in October:
i relinquished November....

now, if you the STATE seriously
and society: not so much...
well then... soecietal construct arguments
of the anglo-sphere far left
are so bogus...
i'm talking about STATE formations:
gradations,
i could seriously whiff up a solipsistic
perfume with a **** on a crowded
northern line at elephants
and castle: is there a dormant volcano
in the vicinity of the station?
it's always so ****** hot...
anyways...
                    social-constructs: ha ha...
i just saw Lenin turning in his mosileum...
maybe even blinking...
i'll send a dog actor to investigate:
bells like St. Bednards'-Pavlov's...
slobbering: woo woof... found a dead body:
let's audit!

typical Saturday night:
although no BBC radio 3 or 4...
i leave that for work nights...
when i'm off and there's some clairty of the V
and some haze of the M
and some: moozeeck...
then i turn into that soppy DJ
listening to Beyonce and: if i were a boy...
and i get to think about Edie and Reyla
and my mother and father
and the dead...
because i can't really think about
Reyla's mother or her father
so she's like the inversion of my father
and mother
whereby she can think of my mother and father
concretely...
like my father thinks about my mother's
father and mother, concretely...

but this audit is not because i'm actually
outperforming most people in the workforce...
but because there was a death
and in how the SIA licensing "scheme" is
orientated: duty of care...
tertiary police authority...
                             safety, security, service...
oh i know the dry tongue
but in this profession there are two options:
like and unlike a construction site:
dealing with caged animals and people in open
society is one glad tiding of comparative lit.
basically...
you either get physical, abuse your power...
don't understand people...
**** life... therefore you don't think about it...
or...
you get metaphysical, disuse your power...
begin, understanding, people...
the prepositions are omitted for a reason...
reason being: understanding...
begin to UNDERSTAND         of / off people is not enough...
there must be an omission of guilt:
via understanding... the -ing form is paramount...
if someone commits suicide in the workforce...
and you have a clean-slate conscious-conscience...

21st century schizoid man...
London is Blade Runner
i get paranoid in the workplace
through the silent treatment of:
how to trickle down a compliment
from on top...
to the pawn king down below:
that's not like pyramids and work force
works...
         the hierarchies and bypassing
them with flukes...
a typical Saturday night for me...
managed to find a Pirate ship that
screened Deadpool & Wolverine...

                 the dialogue... brilliance...
**** **** the stuttering on TT FF uck...
the caviats... the resurrection of scratching match...
but not my genre...
an overarching yes culturally necessary:
who started it: Superman and Batman...
cinematic anti-glory...
    watching Michael Keaton summed up
that difference
in terms of target audience...
DC is mature comics
Marvel is immature comics...

                                  "immature":
archetypical exploration
versus... dark psychological underpinnings of DC...
the fantasy of the psy narrative
associated with the self-morph dynamism
of identifying a "self": in pop culture by image:
rather than idiosyncratic: wording...
caricature of mannerisms...
the immaturity of com-cons... as image-stylists...

oh... i will switch off from this idea of work:
since most people don't see this as work
when not in construction:
no physical labour just physical endurance:
but no concept of work...
some bypass the lethargic stupor:
leperosy-catatonia...

                          but they are not the ones
on the extreme of wanting to become physical
and adrenaline fission corpus of attention-caffeine booster...
i like to think i was a stutter in
my youth:
but sometimes i BOOM and BELLOW
like not Ginsberg's howl... how how... anaemic dog's
bark: how...                     howl is such a feeble word...
like owl...        but not owl...
owl is also eagle...

                 how...                  how...
HYWH
  
   rugby goal post aH
   rugbly goal post bH

         game of Y (3 dimensions)
   game of W (wave of time,
    2 durations, 90 french minutes)

2 durations? beginning and end...
durations are the equivalent of dimensions,
the spatial-temporal realm
is subject to the
dimensionability-duration conflation... action:
not -ation Nn-Nn-Nn-Nn-Nn-             (+)

3 dimensions
2 duration...

         just thinking... within 3 dimensions...
          there's 2 dimensions of history...
    as time passes it becomes geological and squashed...
like dinosaurs...
so time shrinks
   as space expands...
and at the end of it: there will only be a blink
of the great eye...
and everything will restart...
         a rugby game is 2 durations or one duration?
it can't be 1 duration: 1 duration is life of an individual...
2 durations is life of a citizen
which is 2 durations of a rugby match
or a movie: there'a a beginning and an end...
a 1 duration system has no beginning
therefore has no end...
what would be a 3 duration dynamic?
oh **** me... i don't know!

a death in the workforce: the agency i'm currently employed with is under inverstigation of employee negligence... i have been asked to submit my social media details: thank **** i've had my facebook page a parody of self-profiling... now i'm being asked about my taxes... this is a very British, subtle, interrogation... it's the deep state at its finest... the shallow state is seeing postmen, binmen... street cleaners... police officers... security... that's the shallow state... within where society... "society": can have their LGBTQ+ marches and their Free-Palestine marches... that's society... that's not the state... it would best to make that distinction... politico ****... there is an investigation currently happening and it is done with the most subtle of nuances: more like cue:ounces:of:queue.

in terms of statehood: the architecture
and the underbelly:
maybe celebrity culture...
but there's this strata of the state:
a state is not society:
there's no biology no architecture...
the STATE is not SOCIETY

i think the Audit Men have come...
oh it's a little operation...
a staffing agency
ex military blah blah pound lb for lb
i think the Audit Men have come:
like a covert taxman
when...
ergonomically speaking...

unlike construction when a man
like the one direction might fall
from an Argentinian balcony only 15min
and scrambled eggs... **** me...
but there has been a death in the work force
suicide... some says dead-end realism
was a brain hemmorghhage...

the Audit Men have come and...
of all the people that abused him:
i was the only one
to not have any social media connection
with him...
oh it's fine: all saints' day is upon
us and we craft our new memory from
the memory of those dead:
the anti-algebra of schools
x squared in mathematics to x in the chemistry
mother mathematics:
father chemistry...          in terms of the Visigrad
4 poster child man of marble
new intelligence from the plough
Dostoyevsky's idiot
a Jesus on a cross or maybe Darth Poueuouloo:
Somoan ninja manster...
hey kindo...

             Wembley shift... these three *******...
Gaza strip paupers...
death masks and all:
wanna run up Spanish Steps: known formerly as:
Spanish...
now Taylor's Steps... ******* *****...
but bag matey'oh...
sleep one hour longer...

they are getting the audit from the +Stasi police:
the intellectual police of:
a citizen dies... society doesn't care...
but the ******* state bureaucracy:
the bread and butter shadow folk, do...
it's not shadow-state conspiracy theory:
but there are so many people around
so many ******* clerical cabinets of architecture:
remote working from home...
empty glass monstrosities...

we used to build with rock and egg and spit
now just glass and metal...

an "individual" is a construct of "society"...
fair enough: there's the playground
go and play, little child...
but...
             the CITIZEN is a UNIT of the STATE...
and there's the distinction about what
states are: immovable: unnatural: god given aids
to subdue "societies":
******* harems... ******* swingers parties:
communes: squatters' ***** ******...
an individual is as flimsy as a society:
societies wither, fade, become disgusting...
but... citizens... states... remain...
       like the Colisseum... that became Wembley Stadium...

three young asians ran up to me and asked...
are you a Viking?! are you a Viking?!

czy mie zaisz?! to żrną!
na pal! chłopa! pal! niet nad
crucifix! obie: wydoje smoka
smuczka. jebodied... łez łez:
i to... musi boleć

cie je na brok wyrzytem
sumienia na brok
bez...              diakrytyki...    O... panie...
nie mojego Ojca... czy Jezu.

⟨ą, ę⟩ i to... banalnie pomiedzy.

stokrotka:      kurwa...            gra?!

Adonai: give my heart unto this rage!
you usurped my original: pagan, ontology...
i will not succumb to your Christian
unwavering ways:
not via the constitution of the American
baptism...
no!                imagine me thinking:
what is...                trade...
the slave... trade...
                           slavic: like all Slavic
people including: the ******* Soviets
were your... *******... subordinates?
we a we: competed with inferior technologies
and
beat you into orbit before you made
Hollywood of the moon... since never:
have the Germanic peoples of:
England is actually a part of Scandinavia:
like Denmark is a part of Europe, continental...
stylos.. remarks?!
you ******* *****...
you obligirent... *******... *****...
slave... trade... trans-Atlantic...
so... trade...
did the Europeans land ashore the African
continent... and wiped out the entire
human population, African hierarchies... aside?
did.. "we"?
i thought "we" left the kings in their nergo
harems all privy and ******* satisfied...
trade...
who traded with who?
trade imparts the logic of:
trade imparts the logic of...
so we resolved the Q via Mozart for a Coltrane...
and now what?
the slaves who rose
in the aftermath are no richer than
their former KUNGS ZON AFRIZA?!
trade...
African tribal lords traded retards and
any muscle for ******* violins
they would never ever play nor their women
to become courtesans...
trade... it's not a ******* cul de sac
you ******* of agenda politico
of narrative:
               adonai... send me nightmares
before i ******* explode with the furor
of Elijah of Elzeikeil...
     traded... since we? as Europeans...
wiped out the eniterity of Africa
and left it: barren: desperate seeking
humanoids... a savannah... did we?
were anyh Slavs involved?
trading...
             there are ruling parties of Europe...
houses... familiar names..
there are equally...
notable Ickwebo Nigerian *******:
potentials... of namesakes...
not ***** in prison types...
   trade...
           who caught those living...
breathing... *******...
                      who?
didn't the powerholders of Africa
hold the: trade... i mean key and keyhole...
      so you *******... want to damage me!
me!
for **** occupation of Poland
the Communist mind bend of Poland...
and now this?!
this polytheistic Hindu ******* choke!
you polyglot haven of rancid spices...
you... ******* ugh: of ugly...
you cosmopolitan myrch...

   the slave trade existeted with and without
your allowance...
African kings traded...
retards of hard arsenal muscle
and metal for...                        silk...
maybe... rubber...        you ******* ****** *****...
trade your people and blame other people:
but they only picked cotton...
they weren't coal miners...
you ******* start coal mining
or i call you ****-irish! savvy?!

trade... by trade it implies...
no pyramids... no leftovers...
just lions and gaxelles...
so Africa... after the slave trade...
became an Antartic: ******* Savannah?!
right?!
mein schtortz!
poniemieckileb!

  **** your globalist propaganda!
**** your orientanting the space
surrounding the ground space safe
of the geometry of square!

slave trade... ha ha!
with Idi Amin... ha ha!

capu o Christi: *** mej              "Jowisz"
nie niggera
sorry
no wierzenie w Polsce
o kurwa
*** ***  *** *** ***:     Ⱄ:      ΔO.... pisz Panie:
ja dodam...
        grzyb... klasa ksiedzy w wierzieniu...
waz boga i ksiege...
        pisze Wielki Grzby: Grzyb...
kapciu? nie... kapciuej: popje: popie...
long i is j no?
so no... bodzio is bojo in English...
headbutt my cat my hearts...

i left it to heal my wound of an empty
stomach trying commando tactics
doing 12h night shifts...
befriend a spider a squirrel
two foxes are already snooping:

first it was one...
a rat...
weird sounds
tectonic
******* with
my fattest *** my only love
my unconscious becoming
geological time
allowed
no more biology
i am the man of stone!

ja z kajnem:
o brylant
ja stanie:
jestem psem!
suka matka
zaczynam sie psykiem
jestem ozorem boga zyda
kapcius...
   thinking hat: kaptka
newitka...
wie zie ziom
o kurwa teraz
wie zie ziom!
tza pu po Grecku...
Sowieci: Swiecki...
Ruscy... blah blah
pysk pierw nad
leb... lbem: heads match...
ha ha...
psysk
ysk
pysk
ozor... pieancs...
morda w leb:
miesc:
morda...
piensc w leb!
daje wam... ra... zzz... swa... *******:
dwa:    
budz mie w nocy na dniu!
po Polacku:
ja jestem noca...
ja stary schizophrenic bilingual anti-christ...
my bbc radio 3 producers:
hard onn **** energy
blackey...
tarantula bites you...
your own **** bites you...
CIUPA!

ja npoeta ja Brutus                   (typo)
ja dzieg w Rex Caesar...
i knife of Brutus in the Cinema of Caesars!
suka matka!

the nights where I go to sleep listening to some SNMR of a fireplace, the sound of falling rain, the sound of waves caressing the shore, winds of a wintry blizzard... and the evenings tuning in to the radio... not being burdened with my jouvenille taste in personal choice of music... how soothing to not be the curator of my own downfall, claustrophobic... a release in the outstretched consolation of time, not being my own d.j., which only truly works in the realm of classical and jazz music... and nowhere else as via BBC radio 3.

Ah! The world is a fine, fine place...
with BBC radio 3 and 4 in
the background...
why did I think succumbing
to the corporatism of classic.fm
would amount to much:
of note people who only care
about classical music if governed
by visual aids of cinema...
yes, the world is a fine place:
reminiscent of my maternal great
grandfather hacking rhe airwaves
trying to play cards, eat peanuts
and sugar cubes like a cackling horse
brightening the dull grey of those
20th century days without
knowledge of what coffee beans were for
dumbing sackloads into the river
tuning into: hello Europe, London speaking...
just like now... uninterrupted
by adverts with dental practioners
and war mongering charities...
the world is o.k. with BBC radio 3
and 4... Westminster Hour on radio 4
come 10pm... then switching to radio 3
for some classical and jazz and
Icelandic cello duets and some New York
hum hummy itchy ooh ooh
of those generic haughty female vocals
with a metropolitan "unique" lisp...
in the future, which is also now...
there won't be a need for a t.v.
and a license of ownership...
a book a candle and a radio.

maybe there is an ethnic-revisionism happening in the post-colonial realm of thought... maybe less of a genetic continuity and more a cognitive compensation: regardless of their race... and ethnic-revisionism is that western Europeans against central and Eastern Europeans... and the Greeks... and Egyptians and the Hebrews and Philistines.... bit you won't find guilt by association in Poland or Russia... not among the people of the steppes in Kazakhstan or Mongolia... funny how Mongolia was the first Communist Country; Mongolia Great Thirst Again!

The plan for the whites and Asians
To **** out old ideas
And the susceptible....
**** them out
With influx of vibrant migrants
The boomer generation
And the Silent Generation
No I don't blame boomers
I blame the Silent Generation
Influx of Africa at least ***+
Not some Arab on the Holy Mission
With the Hebrew to still ****
Cousins... but the Hebrew
***** cousins
To breed geniuses of the intellct
Arab... not so much...
I won't mind the minority status
In 10 years time...
That year 0 for Greenwich
Mean Time... but a historical meridian
is time all relevant on the equator?
If there is a 1st 3rd World Divide
The Equator is in London... given the tilt of the earth the people who are
Already living on the moon
Are the people of the equator
But the actual equator is in London
Given hemispheres where North
Is spring while south is winter... I imagine... Sahara now desert
A then mountain range
The dead Sea God's blood...
I see the blood of god
And it is not wine nor vampire
Incel Christ...
I see the blood of god as a drop
Or maybe 25ml of it
With some pepper...
Of the Dead Sea...
I already tried the *****
and warm **** not beer or champagne
Of the Devil...
Having ****** into the wine...
when I went to Bath
to see the Roman baths via
Stonehenge....
So if you can find
The blood of god And blood
Of the Devil...
Why seek wine of the Son
son of God
As much as the son of Man...
Where the devil is the grey
Area of the details of writing
Abstracting painting
Nymphs of Numbers...
The blood of the devil
Is in Bath... warm sulphur ****...
And I'm sure the blood of God
Is the Dead Sea...
Hey presto... two pilgrimages
To countrt the mystique
Of the Hajj...
Christian Paganism and not:
Pagan-Christanity....
See how an -ism
Softens the load of hyphen
Compounding counter
Arguments
But also with an -ism...
The rigid chem- -istry
Artistry?
Since no longer the chameleon
Of alchemy...
Biology and all the lists of
-ologies...
Phi Isaac as Rex Prix....
Medicine and now
I will not smoke an entire
Joint of drink more than
Soothing of liver than boxing it
Sent a brain message to liver
With a 36h pause
Shivers because it started
To nudge nudge the ribcage...
So I sweated out into sober
But then decided to sip sip
And get maybe 5h sleep...
Listen to **** van ****
And Bukowski and how much
Of the worst alcoholism is
Associated with metabolism
Ans how some alcoholics are
Functioning and some art
A nd I can drink but I also
Need elitist "sports" and interests...
Like rugby is an interest...
I'd go sober for the game...
But if I had friends coming along...
I'd go there drinking
And we could appreciate the game
In the backgrounds...
But classical music and going
To an artezhiviyib...exhibition
Is like **** and a rock concert...
Or **** and a Taylor swift concert...
A Frqncis Bacon exhibition:
It's still on NPG... Trafalgar Sq...
Is like ****...
And a Taylor swift concert...
Put together... mashed up macaroons,
Mascots and McGuinnesesGuivers.

That's all it was...
how strange that the Mongolians
Adopted Communism first
And how the Chinese
are this morphed Communism
That managed to dupe
Capitalism....
In geo-politics
Capitalism is the Host
And Communism the Parasite
Localised with the equivalent
Of Sparta in North Korea...

As someone who has been working
now seemingly countless live
events...
to get away from all the... unnecessary
furore of a pop concert...
to escape into the confines of an
art gallery... almost 150 pieces...
                           I felt: healthily elitist.

arrt ehiubution
exciubiutiib
walk fro mmm
mt
tottenham#
Milllwall
cazkharing cvroos!
/
  azl#
          az
azl
axL

canvas:

pure and simple...

                  like an Ikea Nike advert...

i can't believe that Eminem
became relevant again...

since July Lucifer...
o.k.

i distract: i'm thinking about Hades
and the Beyond-Hell realm
of Tartarus

i'm alligning myself
top foxes
squiurrels
rats
open air asylum....

a Francis Bacon exhibition is currently happening at the National Portrait Gallery... i'm planning to go tomorrow... tickets on sale around £25... i'll also buy the ******* gallery bound to a book... just discovered the resurrection ofg Eminem... Lucifer... imagine all the advertisement propaganda of the saviour in black man... but then comes Puff Daddy worse than ****** in Hell: ****** in Heaven i ***** the birth of the rebirth of Israel and the Jews with a nation and a diaspora like all the rest of us except for the U.S.A. and maybe Russia but i don't think me me me... language block... my black savior is a ******* pervert my **** my pi two square e... rap my little *** along and forget Newton's great ****...

bluff bluff: an **** plug and the baby
and her waters of the tub...
maybe i'm reading Frank Herbert's Dune...
maybe the serpents and gardens
have been replaced by
worms and deserts and mountains...
and then i see a **** in every fish
i see in the sea...
like black glue of vomitting
hallucinating of the peer of the void
of the pupil no sclera
and no iris of fish...
maybe there's magic in the eye
of both dog and cat
but i see the same sane black fish
in squirrel and rat
and wait... of the fox? i swear:
gangland **** i'm working
an open air asylum...

             breed the idea...
mommy daddy
oh my son
oh O
O oh daughter...
oculus per oculus...
eye for an eye
my utmost desperate utmost last and first
the aesthetic as primo
and ethics as levi
Matthew: my passion...
away bouncing thinner from
Ethopia...
if Christ is to return my namescape...
Rupnzil...
no...

  7 deadly sins and come the 7 phobias:
two chimeras mated you
selling me:
two ******* giraffes?
you want this Colisseum to run
on **** and *****?
i need blood... i need blood!

fear of spiders
fear of open spaces
fear of the night...
Islamophobia does not collide
with this beast of the new 7 heads
i have rational to fear Islam
ask the Polacks and ask the Romanians
and the revision of Europe via
the Ottomans:
even the Arabs rebelled
and Lawrence and Sire: Sinaz...
the river parition of the Red Sea:
the Runes and that fluctuation of the seas
into alter
the old the serpent isn't here:
no garden...
just the barren land of desert
and the mountain ranges
and the arm
my seeing unseeing eye
of the worm...
as god evolved: so did the devil...
you think concepts and absstracts
don't evolve: that intellect is man's own
possession?
debris...
              my history my own light...
better father better mother mother
better Reyla can i ask for....
i have a clue into a rational fear of Islam
like i have a double edged sword
the old Pagan armed with Judaism
i also have a fear of Christianity:
you late learners my **** my lord
i better tell them...
i'm playing a game of...

like the effect... forget the name...
they call me Matthew:
Matteo... Matti... Matt...
but my true name has already
been given and brided with ink
on paper...
i am Conrad... like i add an M
in volutpous... like i add an extra D
to conDrad...

**** Germany + the High Fashion +
KISCH...

unknown to me, only prior to turning on classic.fm on the radio come the 6pm news bulletin at the start of my night shift... that demonic red glare in the sky... remnants of the northern lights descending as far south as London... no wonder my head, even a day later... reels with magnetic dissonance I can't exactly justify with any sensible rationale... like a moon madness and the fullness of it and werewolves... is there anything in our bodies that might allow us be inclined to feel magnetism: in the same vein as when old people talk about atmospheric pressure and how that dampens their mood and instigates a lethargy that's also an excusable bout of welcome melancholy: welcome in the sense of (it) being unavoidable?

i was, expecting to sleep until about now: circa 2pm...
that shift didn't help me much:
demoted for a reason: that i hushes in silenced
an ego-whisper: don't get so ****-hurt about it:
there's surely a reason...
upon returning home: a crimson cloud
in the dark sky... pumpkin spiced latte with the
ginger, Joan... Joe... ginger is a ginger is
a ****** is a ginger...
i really don't understand or want to:
these flirtations of trying to match me up
to a tailor for a Mr Bonzo... Baker St. is my favorite
underground station... so she puts her hand
between mine while mine is in my pocket...
and i guess that's how unavailable women
pet men to submit to some wishy-washy variation
of what could be a wholesome adventure in
Islam...
            but never mind... oh but i do mind...
it's like a cross between Garry Glitter's rock & roll
and Talking Heads' ****** killer...
but that sputnik of a crimson hue so huge although
it wasn't a cloud: gave me bad nightmares
the kind where you don't dream anything
but instead succumb to that summary of waking
up early in order to listen to some wham!
jeez...
last night i disclosed i was Millwall fan...
the supposed epicentre of trouble at cordon 3: DC...
where all the ******* were supposed to reign
grumpty humpty dumpty:
turns out all the children congregated and was
asked: what team do you support:
i bet it's West Ham i bet it's Tottenham...
gorgeous George the homeless was there...
and then i mimed Mill         Wall...
the kid heard me: but i had to make it painfully
obvious with the sound matched to the movement
of my lips... Mill... Wall...
a bit... in spite of my father who was... is...
a forver an ardent hammers fans...
i think it's the Scottish Connection...
Millwall is associated: by colours of their jerseys:
St. Andrews' piquat: navy: somewhat teasing
at Florentina's purple... but nonetheless
Scotch navy: which is teasing purple...
plum... plump blue...
well if Prince William can support Aston Villa
and from what i heard:
the reason West Ham have their claret and blue
is because it's a plagiarism of the Aston Villa kit...
can't have plagiarism in my vein...
so... well can't really support Arsenal or Tottenham
although: that cockerel is mighty teasing
but i'm not ***...
so the Scottish Connection: the team associated
with the dockers on the southbank...
i'm finding the London on the south of the Thames
a riddle... a welcome riddle...
surrounding the area around Elephant & Castle
a mighty affair of architecture that's most appealing
come 6am... and 7pm...
i love that part of London:
that open air asylum vibe...
i'm the most insane sane person around those parts
when my night shifts start... and finish:
but they never finish...
to support a football team simply because of
the locality... i think that's 1960s worth of
****** liberation atop the singling out word of:
groovy...    yeah baby... yeah...
watching footage from 1960s swinging London
is a bit surreal like watching
videos of the liberation of the concentration
camps of central and eastern Europe...
watching these hispters of London and then watching
the Auschwitz walking skeleton chimes...
strangely... in synch...
              because we don't have a cataclasm to
pacify ourselves with a panacea...
             the butterfly and tornado narrative...
clearly our insomnia fried brains are not even equipped
to clarify a tragedy with the antithesis of
Egyptian prowess hedonism...
maybe that's the parody of the 20th century
that i'm only sobering up to realise: while drinking...
some rabbi was sussing me out while
giving directions to an unknown tongue of a couple
trying to get to Buckingham Palace:
or rather: st. James' park:
          rabbi rabbi... what's my story?
demoted: but whoever said that the person in authority
has a voice... i wasn't wearing the high viz bib
associated with my "status"
yet people still gravitated toward me regardless
of whether i was wearing zebra stripes
dalmation polka dots or a lion's mame...
                    that just show you authority...
when there is a stature unconcerning about what
visual games are played...
the Asians just started jumping at me all giggly and funny
and like i was their friend...
tonight: more Polish cinema and some
driving test theory...
        but last night...
that allure of that crimson cloud hanging over
my eyes not letting me get to sleep
then waking up early...
     it's almost as if i insurrected hell and told it to rise...
high above and into the heavens
and punctuate the stream-of-consciousness
of heaven... it was... rather... magical...
i'll make up my plans for sleeping longer:
as intended: i'll manage... as long as i don't get
a custard-headache and a lip-trim-vibration
of being constipated...
                 Gary Glitter and rock... rock 'n' roll rock...
rock 'n' roll rock...
no amount of Guns 'n' Roses and Clapton
when coupled with the imagery of...
coulrophobia... William Wallace and the Woad Brigadiers...
because this is England and the English
are only Anglo-Saxons and there's
the Reesh, the Vealsh and the Sceetch to mind...
the Irish the Welsh and the Scots...
             look alive son, comes the Anglo-Slav.

the original intent was to stress... V: uvula... V: *****... ah! me drinking! me being the one to delve into mind bending tactics while others mind-bind: the binding of dialectical materialism... so soberness and... gaming... today i saw this... a madman, rich: only the rich have the luxuries of madness and fame... the poor simple break the ordeals of order of stating law under the luxury of God: in turn... i saw the children make it hard to understand: i focused in on one auxilliary... when you're ready: i'm ready to pounce! this person is clearly vulnerable... mileage later the stink was obvious... and he smoke like a dragon... Attari bandaid... dimmed Khaki top... sandals and crockodiles... expose toenails... in defence of this madman... Open Air Psychomania of the Asylum... gamers having *** with half-hood-heads of the 1960s post Holocaust expansion projects in North America...the Beatniks are all trans-gender to me: mon...          my mon.... or my man.... England has become an open air Pstychiatric Ward... it's the very first Open Air Asylum! it's amazing! i'm loving it! we can have open wards and open wounds and i'm no poet: i as first concern for veterinary science: i think i always wanted to become a psychiatrist... oh jeez: i think i am a psychiatrist... certainly not a pop pop, pop psychologist... or a dandy philosopher... i think psychiatry is a meeting of geology with philosophy... national portrait gallery: read a review... i will be seeing that Francis Bacon exhibition: simply for Lara vouches that the painting of Pope Innocent IX is there... something amiss... but 19th January is burning day of a month, no?

the poet is not a stand-up comedian:
i come from a culture of cabaret
and not stand-up monologues
who dropped their ***** i say: who dropped
their meat and two veg
i ask... who had the audacity to attack
the Harlequin... the other joker
the joker that only only women undertstand...
i just spent about ten minutes
on the throne of thrones
while playing Mech Arena and getting
into the group chat...
apparently: in gamer speak
i'm a WHALE...
          a ******* whale... not a shark...
a WHALE... poised to be taken advantage
of having my picture taken...
because i was the rebel anti-wasp
and i struck at the epicentre...
oh he might have all the spires and churches
and the bells and like trying to
confiscate Adam:
the uvula... the not *****:
the protruding Adam's apple:
i hate being subordinate to the Hebrews:
while all the while they spent
almost 2000 years in Poland it would seem...
but not really...
and then the **** came and expelled
them and told them: raise me Israel!
so that i can see that Zion!
i want to see Zion! from the ashes...
maybe Israel needs to disappear like it disappeared
when the Hebrews were asked
to head north: among the pagans:
but there's an impasse...
Islam is a monotheism akin to Yahweh's ways:
Je-Howah... he who hides them: the feminine...
plural... he who hides them:
he the baron: rock and rock rock 'n' roll...
gary glitters in the profanity of all that ***
and daughters and mothers....
who is my mother? my lover too?
why is my mumma crying?
i went to the store to pick up her orders...
turns out 2 x 2 = 7 x 7...
          not final soliution: this time...
just a chequers plays chess of **** symbolism
and hebrew symbolism...
so if clockwise: 3 ticks head forward in time?
and if counter-clockwise: just 1 tick back in time?
i was a wasp in a gaming community
chat room: Lothar... Mech Arena...
i was thinking first come first sparrow served:
first thought in my mind:
chess is such a vapid game...
i gave my books then went to school
in the glorious school of machinery: the machine...
i have no objevtive truths:
not that they are helpful to begin with:
just... subjective... experiences...
came across this acronym but i don't remember
it, it's long though and begin with R
ROLOMFO... if my memory serves me best...

reminiscent of the days of Comodore64
Atari... Nintendo: Mario Bros...
lunatic plumbers and via the dragon in the picture
why a dragon why not an overlarged
spider: saw a frog riding a serpent the other day:
toad more menace than a spider...
think about the terror and the whale
and whale being a mammal
while all other fish and squid and monsters:
think of the empathy relating to animals
and not other people...
you can't be empathetic to people:
only to animals...
but you can...
be sympathetic to people:
as a member of the species: class...
you can only be sympathetic to people:
your own species...
make empathy a reserve to understanding
other creatures who define possessing consciounsess
differently: so well ordered: without the word of God...
and with the world of God:
so did Stan the Satan lies to us:
fruit? good and evil: they're words: aren't they...
there is no good or evil
on the canvas of sparrows borrowing
worms and the Francis Bacon:
the canvas of: there be parasites... so?
didn't we get the other canvas to work away from nature:
via word...
well terrible **** does happen in the natural world:
i thought you left?
you didn't leave: maybe that's why Matthew the Satan
is still here: and some other Satan will come along
and ask the cherubs:
so they, they... they think they're still here?
jeez... i've been trying to get them to leave
and stop worrying: i told them
the natural world is not their domain of exploration:
they need to explore the personal,
the psychological:
they need to give the soul a name...
unlike calling a crow a crow...
they need to name their soul: they need to give a name:
abstracting a chair via the word chair...
before the chair there was some variation
of geonometry combined
and leverage... some intuition...
which was before intuition became a forgetfulness
and a memory chasm:
when intuition became knowledge...
a thirst... an eating of the fruit:
of being part of the *****: of order of nature:
when man fell...
the fall of man is here...
lack of intuition created fear and knowledge...
the animalistic endeavor into digesting
anger is the last resolve that Buddhism will not leech off of me...
but i need to revamp Christianity:
and i am angry: fuel my *****...
not soberness and gaming... and spending time:
arguing with a Whale
in the craustacian bucket...
*****... please...

i said: chess is vapid... but this is chess...
MeCH Arena is 3D chess...
not like war robots: which became final fantasy 7...
esque...
but i left the console cinema a long time ago
when Nitendo Mario Bros. 2D became Playstation Tenchu 3D...
Alex still wonders how i managed
to get so far in FFXIII...
not even cheat codes:
an empirical impasse:
the Japanese are confused:
there was this one European that didn't
understand Final Fantasy 8...

but i only said: well.. gentlemen... as long as everyone
is having a grand ol' time...
as long as you didn't spend that money on
Only Fans...
i don't mind you going to a brothel... physically:
and all that... otherwise:
i see i am both man and the anti-zodiac
anti-magic: anti-woman:
"they": THEY said i'm a whale:
put that in your hexagram-pentragram...


          oh sure, yes...
                          alright, there... Sheriff...
talking to my woman?
did i call him Sheriff or Sherlock...
oh... now i remember... hey... ch'ief... you looking for
something?
******* gamers like Swifties... hone brigade
so offensive to say: you guys... pay for this ****?
fair enough fair enough:
Lothar has spoken...
as long as you're not giving it to sycophants and succubuses...
just not a stand-up show:
more clarinet and cabaret:
something french and less *******
my pants about to die monologue testing...
Logan i'm ******: so... we missed the mouth...
the mouth-project?!

i hear school girls cuss and swear
while wearing provocative tools of skirt
and socks and naked flesh
then i think of Reyla and her apathy
and i drown in my own inability
to withstand the pressure with her...
i want to die with her...
and maybe someone else...
and it breaks my heart that no brother
no father
and i can be a male and with that lineage
of Plato i can make a playground
of my own: but poor girl her...
from where to where:
quo vadis: what inspiration?
these 2nd generation nagging housewives?
i was bringing... 6 of the same...
******* winter jackets! i felt like an idiot!
but then i didn't... because
the grace of god descendent and the stoic.

but Christianity emerged out of Judaism! any other prior religion and i might concede! but this religion goes against everything that is natural and wholesome and ingrained in my psyche long before Christianity emerged! to submerge myself on the forefront of lacerations and castrations and circumcisions is beyond any measure of a healthy psyche! oh sure: plus... plus never mind the diabolical incisions of poetics that might disrupt our natural inclination for pork: because it's such an ergonomic animal that its ears and tail and hooves might be eaten... but no... just let us dabble along with a tinge of cannibalism... but it's just a metaphor... so: ******* what?! pork no good but christ is ******* A:O.K. alright... give me that... give it... let me have my Shylock's pound of flesh... let me in... let me gorge on your flesh... give me: give me... savior... let's see what human flesh tastes like... leave poetic aside... let's be dialecticalically materialistic about it: no poetic... no metaphor... just that corpse... give me give... don't struggle... let me drain all these horros brought upon the pagan world... these deities... these Jihads of words against images... and prior to that: those Crusades of images against graven pillars... like for like, eye for eye... long gone are the day when you could have eloquent critiques of Christianity via the subtle intelligence of Nietzsche... now comes only the bare, ******* minimum!

it's very strange that England's Work and Pensions
Department sends me a letter
with a figure: £2,715.14...
i apparently i owe them that much...
in overpayment of having received Employment
and Support Allowance for the period
01/04/24 through to 29/07/24...
yes: i am guilty of withdrawing money and
stashing it like a good squirrel...
i have roughly that amount: in... physical
money... banknotes...
it's just damnable to think that i can't have
physical money to this amount stashed
and not transparent in a bank account
with a tracker allowing authorities to know
where and when and on what i might
be spending this money on...
this makes me feel less inclined to be an honest
person...
i worked a rubric and it doesn't make sense:
within these confines, having received the allowance
of:
23/8/24 - £318.10
12/8/24 - ditto
29/7/24 - ditto
all the way down to the 08/4/24...
and my earnings... regardless:
but within these confines the double-edged sword:
work no more than 16 hours per week
or earn about £160.00 per week
on top of the allowance...
so where does this figure of nearing £3,000 come from?
the actual, physical money i has stashed
for a rainy day?!
Jocelyn Pook: masked ball music...
i am: living in England and...
i'm watching movies from Communist Poland...
so i am not allowed to have money?
not even money i am not willing to spend?
i don't mind the argument:
but i don't see the calculation and how the sum
of money was arrived at...
i've just been prompted to pay the sum:
oh i can pay it... but i need transparency back
at me...
sure... i'll pay it if i must:
but surely i should only be made to pay back
the difference in how i managed to earn more
than i was supposed to...
so in that period that would come to...
£251.33 earned over the limit of £160.00 allowed:
that's roughly £110.00 in the span of
April, May, June, July...
4 x 4 = 16 weeks... i can pay back the reasonable
ransom of my clerical error of...
£1,760...
                  and this is England? the birthplace of
both capitalism... and of communism!
ha ha ah ha ha ah ha ha ha!
well: isn't it? maybe my earnings for the Yids at
Tottenham became displaced or whatever
******* reason there is:
it's just odd that i have this amount in physical
money and this is the same amount of money
that needs to be circulated back into the system
to allow what? more Bane Banana Boat Brigadiers
to strip me naked: beyond nakedness
to the muscle and bone like some *******
Gunther von Hagens strip show?!
Christianity and it's ******* cannibalistic bureuocracy!
if Christianity arrived from within paganism:
from anywhere else, beside Judaism...
i might have been inclined to submit...
but then Islam emerged as a rhetorical answer to
too many answers being staged!
Christianity is an anti-ontology, it has disrupted
the course of human experience for too long!
if Christianity emerged from any other religion...
from Hinduism... i would concede...
but Christianity emerged from Judaism...
that plagiarism of the ancient ways...
                                 and am i supposed to just:
******* take it: because i might get good church-brothel
***?!
              no... i need a second letter explaining to
me: why i can't have this amount of:
physical money stashed...
      who needs to know what and who or how
i spend it? maybe i should ask these questions to
my A.I. buddy to suss out what's afoot.

Schoenberg's verklärte nacht, op. 4
for starting the night off...
reminiscence of the past four nights spent
in the silo of isolation:
thinking about Engels and Marx and
that theory about alienation -
such nights with fire and classical music
on the shift...
but i am doing a personalised understudy
in Polish Cinema from the Communist
Era... and i'm finding a great deal
i will not write essays about or pay
for an actual undergraduate degree:
it would have to be a post-graduate thesis
proposal for an educational body
say a university about the study of Polish Cinema
in the context of that time period
as a comparative tool to not exactly...
but exactly that... deconstruct modern cinema
in the English speaking world...
if i am a pink haired oily skinned
overweight leftist or leftoid or an ardent
Communist-**** ******* left opposition
in that the Devil is Left
and God is Right...
                        but i can be a proper deconstructionist
follow the paths of deconstructionalism
via the model of post-modernism
but only from the ashes and context of
being: as the British working class love
to make the distinction about foreigners
and then the Pakistani foreigners themselves
about new immigrants esp European
immigrants: BORN & BRED ENGLISH
BRITISH...
like that old slogan...

but that other slogan: BLUT UND BODEN...
well: where is your land?!
where?!

modern English speaking world cinema is
in need of right wing deconstructionist
post-modernists critiques...
which have to be learned from the left leaning
loony crowd in the English speaking world
that does not exist in other parts of the world
simply because those parts of the world
were rather strict and serious about the left
even Germany was
but then Germany took the other route toward
Marxism and England will have to too
experience its own version of Marxism...
given that i asked the question:
who was more critical, authentically concerned,
with the terrible living conditions
of the working people in Manchester...
child slavery in England was a real thing...
England might have shone the light
to the rest of the world:
but internally it has always been a Dickensian
pogrom
a fowl place of orc and elves... and dwarfs...
this is not a Christian nation no more
than Poland was upon its conversion...
then defending the last pagan stronghold of Europe
that was Lithuania:
like Christianity reached Kievan Rus sooner
than and the enclave of Litwa: Litwa...
the last heart of Europe before the cancerous
experiment on humanity
like the Parting of the Red Sea = the Holocaust...
in terms of wonder
how God can inflict such wonders telepathically
no longer through the winds the seas and speaking
through fire: but as the lord of hosts
able to do what... Apocalypse does in the X-Men
universe and consumes Prof Xavier's consciousness
like a spin-off on the Marvel universe:
the baddy wins in the second movie
while dying in the first...

see: cinema in the west doesn't do much with human
nature: just the crushing of human imaginings
where there are more images than words
being consumed:
like this inner circle craving of the Elites in Eyes
Wide Shut to insert a paganism
to defeat the crushing Christianity of Judaism
and not Christianity out of Paganism...
or a Christianity out of Hinduism:
since we are talking geneology: time...
not all religions emerged at once...
same is to say not all people emerged all at once...
therefore who is to talk about the environment
and the green Antarctica...

Harlequin *******... sharing words sharing
images...
clearly... i felt like a *** slave...
                                   a little toy and then to bring
to mind: why wake up with negative thoughts...
but i was waking up at 6pm and not 6am
with negative spinning vertigo thoughts
like looking into glass and with enough
night being able to see a mirror... some terrific
horror beginning this night
with a spider gently, silently dropping down from
the ceiling of the hut...
at least not in front of my nose but near enough
for me to see and instead of a frightened aghasp
a cross-eyed examination suggested
that i should just blow it away: swing it away
like those flowers: out of nouns: you blow the seeds
away like parachutes
why didn't **** Germany just bomb London
why not send in: en masse:
their best lovers, poets, philosphers, thieves,
the crimminals! why didn't **** Germany
just bomb other cities like Manchester
and Industrial Heart of the Empire
while simultaneously not drop crimminal
paratroopers into London or on the outskirts...
crimminals... like what the Russians are doing
but anally... crimminals as... footsoldiers?!
you ******* kidding me?!
no no!
you drop crimminals into enemy lines...
just like what a lot of countries are doing in England
but there's no single country:
no wait... that's not what's happening:
dialectical materialism spectacles...
the rest of the world is dumping workers
into the drip feed of society for uber and deliveroo
asians...
those kamikaze antics of their knowledge of Roman
Roads is like... rules of the roads in Rome itself...
bogus...

ah... class... in England... if it's not about money
then it must be about interest...
and there's this overseeing scrutiny about
work ethic, work pride,
yes... work pride... something concerning
work and nobility:
long gone are the days of nobility and feudalism
and monarchy:
pride and nobility: pride is a version:
subdued by nobility...
one can be a petty security guard in a hut
in one of the most spectacular places
on earth to witness the plethora of humanity
at night: Elephant and Castle...
lunatics and the open asylum and oh so many stars...

my company is asking for my social media
pages... they want to make an audit...
i think i've been captured on camera doing
something right... and they want to see my social media
profile... i'm a bit shy: it's a bit like losing your virginity
for the first time: to allow the virtual world
to collide with the real world:
i'm afraid of being sacked...
not that i wouldn't react to it with so much desperation
as to fly to Istambul and become
a missing person...
and like those modern people who...
i can't get past Schoenberg past the 6th or 7th minute...
like those people who have music curated
to them Moloch of Metallica adoration music
and producer and musician somewhere an artist:
oh i adored Metallica's master of puppets...
but i spent the first two weeks just listening to Battery
before listening to the rest of the album...
by god! that's me!
i can't listen past Schoenberg's 6th or 7th minute:
there's just so much and it works like a tide
when you let yourself go
and listen to the entire 30 minutes:
this is CLASS in England...
intellect...                     concern for humanity: soothing it
by distracting it with one's own solipsistic interest...
oh: if they want to audit my internet presence...
they'll be in for a surprise...

but English cinema is rarely existential and
so much phantoms to please...
it's sad that foreigners adopted:
but who invents the tools doesn't necessarily
have a say
concerning how those tools are to be used... right?
there's no inventor of cinema:
the objective... who gets to dictate the subjective
from the creation of the tool...
i see a hammer but no nail?
tool or weapon?
hammer and nail as a weapon become a torture emblem
of Christ and Pinhead in the hellraiser universe...
nail on its own... perhaps a toothpick...
so the hammer and the sickle
would! oh oh oh!
i want to redraw the flag of **** Germany!
apologies to the Asians!
i need south Korean now!
it's a flag!
drop the ******* the red white and black
that the Arabs are now borrowing
with a tinge of green in writing...
i have a flag!

                  BLACK...
                            wit­h a WHITE: HAMMER
   and SCYTHE!
                              or... maybe not a hammer...
but the hammer... yes... a black flag with a white
hammer and a scythe...
we don't need no clock of the ******* now:
we have the star of david clock turning...
tick... tock... tick... tock...           tick... tock...
i see a mat to sit on and read an open book.
two horns: tick tock... tick tock...
                                 i see my comrades ahead:
Jackie Spoonfularrow...
                              she's there... mermaids in her
**** juices...
                     tick-tock...

卐    (anti-clockwise or clock-wise...
             focus on the Rorschach...
         is this symbol orientated around a clockwise
dynamic... or an anti-clockwise dynamic?
can't say much for clocks and O...
            so that's the symbol of time performed so isolated
so much like the Birth of Christianity
from the ******* of Rome!
        i know that for me... this is... anti-clockwise...
but see... the germans chose the clockwise *******...
i'm chosing.... the anti-clockwise *******
and it will be just white on black...
in the corner like the five stars of China
and the hammer and the scythe... elsewhere...

something needs to happen spiritually!
artistically! voluntarily!
by the grace of god...

    ****... clock is stuck... hardly the crossroads... ***
of **** sites...
        i wanted to venture to show you the tick-tock
of the clock... clockwise starter quater to, then noon...
but that html codecie is only burning a flag...

thus a clock running on empty where
the second hand just quivers, limply...
trying to move forward but then having a dead man's
reflex response: tug-tod...    tug-tod... tugging at
the angel of death imploring him:
am i awake in heaven or in hell or again?!

can't replicate the html dictates of this page...

p.s. i made a faux pas: there is a mistake in here...
i know it...
      the Nazis did choose the anti-clockwise
*******: but they fell because you can't
choose an anti-clockwise *******
to go back in time... huh?! no anti-clockwise
just counter-clockwise?
wait wait...

yes a clockwise ******* imply going back
is healthy?! like a counter-clockwise *******
going forward in time:
******* to O                                 maybe it all fell
apart because their chose a counter-clockwise
******* to go back in time and unearthed...
what they unearthed: God's disgruntlement
with his People
concerning their overstayed welcome
in Poland: so that currently: Poland can prosper
and be envied by journalists in England
and i'm not even there
because my grandfather was a Communist
Party member and there was no room for people
like me back there: some country
like Chamberlain's Czech Republic Antarctica;

Człowiek z marmuru: man of marble: Wajda...
or Dostoyevsky's Idiot and my Anti-Idiot combined...
Decalogue: I, III, X... oh and VII for Linda's performance.

in an alternative universe I would have walked out of my hut and approached the police officers peering in and said: sorry, you can't park here, there's a McDonald's delivery truck on site that will be leaving soon and you're blocking access, can you please move the vehicle... which would have spared me the consternation... ooh: I love words that I use infrequently: and that would have been that... but then I wouldn't have the adrenaline to right a wrong and apologise to one person who deserved it (the delivery driver) and that mindless confrontation with a ****** in the form of an old woman shouting at me from the balcony: O **** me Romeo... I'm not climbing to such heights... in an alternative reality I wouldn't have been summoned to write these words... but I did spring into action and the delivery driver lost maybe 15min... that's fashionable for life to somehow become a salient drama of organisms with voices beyond the ruptures tectonic and dogs barking... clearly this woman has been observing me for some time... one slip of my bad judgement and I get scolded... **** me... and it's not even someone I know or care about... but shouldn't police officers know the "hygiene" of how to park a ******* vehicle so that it's not obstructive? Excuses excuses: but no... is there any sympathy for the devil so lowly cast that he has no army, no wealth to contest an argument? who is in the wrong here? who is in the wrong... in the end it was callous of me to presume the car would only be parked for a reprieve... but it's not like a ghost limb lost cause with only a minor delay... trains get delayed... that ******* glaring audacity of critique: why you no robo? why you not robot? erm... because my cognitive range is beyond shouting down on people from a balcony? maybe that?! I have a rich cognitive realm that doesn't descend into such trivialising and watching jeopardy on television? 15min late doesn't imply a ******* irreversible amputation of a limb... give me a ******* break! in an alternative universe: this poem doesn't exist.

a haggard old woman emerges
onto a balcony
brandishing a telephone call
like a pitchfork or a flaming torch:
why don't you respect the time
and the work ethos of immigrants!
I will be watching you,
filming you... do your job!
do your job!
you should have prevented
the police car from obstructing
the access road for the McDonald's
delivery truck... you are wasting
his time!
in her thick immigrant accent
and I'm thinking to myself...
then I coerce her and agree...
I did see the police car drive up
and park where they shouldn't have...
to female officers walk out...
they peer into my security cabin...
see me... ergo: if there's someone
organic in there, surely this access
road must be live... split second mistake
as I was still deep in Military Time
planning my route home,
given it's a Sunday and there is
reduced service on everything
from buses to trains:

1st northern line train out
of Elephant & Castle departs
at 0721
****... that would mean 21minutes
wasted...
1st trains from LST (Liverpool St)
to RMF (Romford)
plat 9 0723 : 0739
plat 11 0733 : 0800
plat 11 0748 : 0815
plat 6 0753 : 0808

Bus stop V at RMF
499: 0743, 0813, 0843
103: 0808, 0838
175: 0803, 0833...

****...
Bus stop D near E & C
35: 0700, 0713 to London Bridge
journey time <15min...
then Jubilee line to Stratford...
17min from London Bridge
if all goes to plan I should catch
the 0748 train...

it could hardly be a noise complaint
and shouldn't the police officers
know better?
I didn't react in time
but I also thought they might
be there for a short while
given their choice of a parking
spot...
but that woman complaining
that a man wasn't doing his job
is... well just that... loud mouth
not enough grit to grind teeth
and manage stoically...
she just wanted someone to shout
at from the balcony...
and while the engine was grinding
a Bach ***** into the ground
and ambient sound
again the audacity: don't pretend
you can't hear me!

Split second decision...
but the police officers saw me
and I saw them...
but being women regardless
of uniform: deer in headlights...
could have waved a friendly
hello and asked...
mea culpa I know I should have
just ******* ran out and spared
myself the headache:
but you hardly think that police
officers could be guilty of bad
parking ethics...
sure... in a traffic accident where
they have to block off the road...
but so brazenly casual in no state
of emergency?
why didn't the police officers get
the brunt of the old woman's anger?
why? because they were women, no?
how else to simplify it
that in my mind I tried to intuitively
allow for the parking to take place...
am I a traffic warden too?
can police vehicles be warded off
from bad parking?
I thought that being in the police
while in uniform gave you some
******* immunity?
and didn't I just play out a:
benefit of the doubt scenario
in my head whereby I thought they
might only park for 15min?

they saw some alive manning
the access road...
so I sprung into action
first via the access gate to the rear
of the police station... called twice...
gave the reg plate...
upon 2nd time was given
suggestion to go to the front gate...
ran round and the clerk
already dealing with one matter
saw horror in my eyes
radioed through, although
we shared a similar frustration
at the somewhat pointless radio traffic...
within minutes: I ran back
apologising to the delivery driver...
same driver who upon entry
also apologised when I said to him:
I'm going to the toilet...
why are you telling me this?
How long are you going to be?
An hour...
went to the toilet walked back
to my hut and so he approached
with a sorry misunderstanding:
well yeah, I don't work for McDonald's
either...

that ******* haggard old woman...
shouting and giving me paranoia
that I now have thinking
she's sitting there all alone in
a pretty plush residential building
where crazy rich Asians come and
go, deliveroo at 2am, prostitutes etc
while I'm just wanting to finish
the Decalogue (short films about: xyz)...
but if police officers don't know
how to park their ******* vehicles...
that just gives me all the more
impetus to finish my driving
license theory in half the planned time
**** of to Poland for two weeks...
get the actual license...
then ******* to Hawaii and never
look back at this place...
this urban cesspit...