Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2019
.as ever, some memorable lines bumping like atoms in my head, and instead of a pen and paper handy, or a keyboard, all i have is a mouth full of toothpaste, shampoo in my hair, a Popeye's squirm, one hand washing my genitals and the other holding the shower (handle), replying aloud to "the third person": what?!

... and after that? a whole array of punctuation
marks: drying yourself,
remembering the last conversation
from yesterday,
                 '****, this would be a waste
of a **** fine bottle of amber-glug...'
                            (not that it matters)...
'this might as well be a dial-up modem!'
  again: punctuation marks...
    putting your pinky finger into
the pinky end of a glove to dry out your
ears before putting in the headphones and
plugging in...
   what will it be today...
   jazzy cosmopolitan feel....
or airy, haunting, indie cosmopolitan
nostalgia -esque -esque of a missing
   prefix?
              ah...
   (i still find horror movie soundtracks
the most ideal lullabies...
   forget about Strauss dying
                              with a lack of
     contentment at not being able to write
a serious piece of work...
  well... if you're going to be a waltz-poodle
for the Habsburgs...
   you're going to be a waltz-poodle
till your fingerprints are no more...
   and you die a death by macaroons...
in a room filled with: white lilies...
as a joke: Strauss, waking upon
the deathbed:
    any of you ******* put those
chrysanthemums near me! i swear!
    better throw some fallen autumn leaves
from the park! i've never encountered
the scent of a rotting fern...
but these flowers just about do it!)
      ha!
this would have been a waste of a good
bottle of whiskey...
why didn't i encounter this prior...
   toiling in what ended up being something
of a cough medicine in terms
       of: well... something or other.
- unless i remember what it was...
    however many pockets in a day...
Nietzsche and pockets...
         or rather the film starring jim carrey,
dark crimes...
         and... yeah... that filter layer...
that something like this happens...
   but then turned into a movie...
     well... that doesn't exactly hide what
is made into an elaborate fiction:
working from a very base beginning...
like metallurgy...
      reality is the base ore... crude...
  un-rehersed...
  until it is subjected to... refinement...
  but that isn't the point:
       what is Heidegger's
    dasein in relation to journalism
in relation to post-journalism as in:
the film industry?
       which deviates from a mere "existence"
(out of every instance...
  my variety of ex-instance [E, A...
O... what's the difference?]
     there's an insistence) -
   and becomes... presence...
            or rather...       concern...
otherwise known as: the murky wood...
synonymous a variety of
other psychoanalytical metaphors...
yet in a film like 4.5/10 IMDb starring
jim carrey (well **** me!
    6.5 IMDb nicholas "8mm" cage!)
       that... dasein aura that journalism
cannot capture:
   as if we're supposed to be repeatedly
shocked by what "doesn't" happen:
when it clearly happens...
        en masse journalism:
frankly? i prefer the anaesthetic prior
to my tooth being drilled...
                     alternatively:
the film industry has made me
dasein ******...
                                      like gaining
access to a third eye that's in
the back of my head:
   and a ego-"personna"
           that capitulates to the role
of puppeteer:
   whereby the cognitive essence of
"thought" is: third person...
                   or... akin to the movie
get out:
                  always that one shutter-close
prior to: no other eventuality.
- besides that!
   already criticism:
nagging nagging, pampering
to... der geliebt leßer...
                     my ***: to some
coffee-mug "whining rhyming" poetics...
- but sure as ****...
you can make a fine, fine cauliflower
soup... as long as you add fried
   chouriço sausage to it...
  (χoυριςo) - which has clearly
entombed an orthographic error:
            correction - χoυρισo -
yes... every roman in italics:
is just as well (in appearence) greek -
but guess what!
   ever see a Greek write Greek?
i mean: handwriting...
                    even i inquired...
crux?

                Υ                        Ν

- is that an N?
- no... that's a U...
- "huh?!"

mind you: they do look pretty similar,
and i am more used to Vv(5)...
                                      ν / υ

and that was a real life scenario...
back on the 23rd of November 2018...
Warsaw...
     and giving directions
to get from Modlin (aiport)
               to Warsaw (central)...

still... a whole jar of coffee...
  and thankfully there's double cream in
the house... at 30% fat...
what coffee isn't a Hollywood coffee?

- and then there's that...
thought from the shower...

           honest to god...
give me the 1950s / 1950s-esque
   technicolor movies...
   eastmancolor - or whatever you want
to name them...
that very specific tinge...
acrylic...
   and you can hide all the CGI
and all the phosphorescent neon
             80s optic-**** festivities...
and those panoramic one shot
scenes... where a man on horseback
travels from one end of the panorama
to the other: and there is no cutting
             involved: no sub-movie editing...

mind you:
i'm still trying to find the sort of person
that could epitomize
   being more inclined to read
comic books... than watch a movie...

  coffee and cream... coffee and cream...
and a wintry afternoon.

— The End —