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Ever since I discovered poems in 5th grade, I have been prancing in them. My heart has been hollow for a while, but poems temporarily …
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Poems
Traveller in time
Mar 2019
The last fruit and vegetable shop closed today ,
part of Ashford has gone away ,
next door to the church for fifty years ,
Dave and Jim and Brian will never get old .
Vegetables with no cling film ,
or selefane wrapping ,
Mushrooms as large as you’re hand ,
Kale in bundles not sold in plastic bags ,
Plumbs prunes and potatoes.
Peaches apples and pears ,
purple brocole all tied in a bundle ,
all sold in brown paper bags .
The fish man arrived once a week ,
Where from Grimsbys shores we bought . .
The bells rang out on Sundays,
Where at Christmas,
Trees would be bought ,
Lined one by one .
So tomorrow the supermarket s will becon ,
with their plastic wrapping and plastic bags ,
So spare a thought for the fruit and veg ,
With no plastic wrapping and celefane veg ,
the old shop where the community shed a tear ,
for Ashford’s last fruit and veg ,
has been and left here .
Last night I saw a picture ,
from 1910 ,
yes I guess they were still there way back then .
part of Ashford has gone away ,
next door to the church for fifty years ,
Dave and Jim and Brian will never get old .
Vegetables with no cling film ,
or selefane wrapping ,
Mushrooms as large as you’re hand ,
Kale in bundles not sold in plastic bags ,
Plumbs prunes and potatoes.
Peaches apples and pears ,
purple brocole all tied in a bundle ,
all sold in brown paper bags .
The fish man arrived once a week ,
Where from Grimsbys shores we bought . .
The bells rang out on Sundays,
Where at Christmas,
Trees would be bought ,
Lined one by one .
So tomorrow the supermarket s will becon ,
with their plastic wrapping and plastic bags ,
So spare a thought for the fruit and veg ,
With no plastic wrapping and celefane veg ,
the old shop where the community shed a tear ,
for Ashford’s last fruit and veg ,
has been and left here .
Last night I saw a picture ,
from 1910 ,
yes I guess they were still there way back then .
He
Mateuš Conrad
Feb 2016
.before i come to the food topics, here's a pet peeve... language... how the pakistanis might / might not be offended by the laziness of the english, shortening their denotation to a prefix: ****-... and i'm like... is that really offensive? with the -stani suffix missing? o.k. o.k., iraq: iraqi... iran: iranian... pakistani: ****- / pakistani... so what about afghanistan? afghan, or afghanistani?! i'm pretty sure it's afghan... a person is afghani and not afghanistani... so what's wrong with ****-? it must be an english-****'stani thing from the 1960s or something... ******* as sensitive as french footballers... this has to be hard-pressed... this instance... because i hardly think it's a racial slur to stick to the prefix and not include the suffix, given the example from afghanistan - just like the "problem" of calling a jew a ***-, borrowed prefix from... yiddish! now for the food:
a. would you trust a skinny chef? i know i wouldn't trust a chef who's also a healthy-eating gym bro maniac, i bet he would never cook with lard or pork trimmings, with that calorie calculator lodged up his head that represents an ******* is not much to go with when taste is prime... 6ft1 253.5pounds, that's where i stand... i would never trust a health-freak to cook for me, let alone all the proofs rattling anorexic examples...
b. "***** take your shoes off and get into the kitchen!" what a ****** joke, chauvanism rampant... mind you... who the hell said that women belong in the kitchen? they don't... i don't want a woman in the kitchen... i've had two dinners cooked by my fwends' mothers when still in my early teens... 1. over-cooked pasta... my fwends father would pretend to eat the dinner, before driving me home while stopping off at a sikh diner and took to the take-away (cooked by men), another example beside the over-cooked pasta? under-cooked spring potatoes - after all... the men on ships and submarines that kept the other men firing did all the cooking... men can cook... or at least: that's the least they should do... think: organic chemistry experiments...
eating a raw herring
in piquant mayonnaise
of reminiscence of a
granny-smith and pickled
cucumber tickle...
slurping it up into
a workout of the oesophagus
might remind many
of oral ***: but after all...
it's only a raw herring being eaten.
p.s. well perhaps gulping down
a raw oyster does feel familiar
to performing oral *** on a woman...
but since you're not really
chewing the oyster,
or licking it... but gulping it whole...
i can only compared performing
oral *** on a ***** to
eating a raw herring.
and why all of this talk of food?
well... what's on the menu for tomorrow?
a bangers & mash stew,
old recipe from the days of the british
empire... mind you: why did they
call sausages bangers back then?
well, during the war, they put a lot of
water into the sausages...
and when water mixes with warm oil?
bang! bang!
'i was five and he was six,
we rode on horses made of sticks,
he wore black and i wore white,
he would always win the fight...
bang! bang!
he shot me down!
bang! bang!
i hit the ground...
bang! bang!
that awful sound...
bang! bang!
my baby... shot me down!'
(audio bullys ft. nancy s.) -
so obviously i had to take a walk
and buy the key ingredient...
i.p.a.:
and when they were stationed
in the raj, and the troops were receiving
provisions...
the standard beer wouldn't last the trip,
going off...
and dark port was too sweet...
so indian pale ale was invented:
more potent alcohol content and brewed
based more on hops than barley or wheat...
bitter: but my god, what a strand of beer,
like your typical irish stout...
which is why i never figured out
the bud to be the king of beers...
fermentation of rice? sure... it's crisp...
but also the sort of toddler **** you'd expect
from rice fermentation:
no body, no *****, no blood,
no palette...
easy stew:
sausages,
onions, garlic, celery, carrots,
leeks...
a bottle of i.p.a.,
some to degrease the pan the sausages
and veg were fried on, the rest for the jacuzzi...
some water, bay leaf, salt to taste,
tomato purée and 2tbsp
of muscovado sugar to bite through
the extra hops... mash on the side...
and an array of veg on the side too...
i still don't know where the idea
that women belong in the kitchen came from:
perhaps when the men were coal-miners,
and when the kitchen wasn't filled
with all the current day appliances
of convenience...
when women worked as hard in the kitchen
as the men who worked in the coal-mine...
perhaps then, in the early part of the 20th
century... when spaghetti dough was hand-made
at home...
then a woman could take pride in her
house-keeping...
now? now i guess: the same sort of melancholic
voice bound to nancy sinatra singing...
because once upon a time it was hard
work, running the house...
and then "suddenly"
everything became simple...
a man could walk into a coal-mine,
come back home and...
make himself a decent meal...
looking at what the english woman buy
in the supermarket?
couch potato maidens...
ready meal after yet another ready meal...
things have become so easy
that easy isn't enough...
let me tell you a culinary ***** of a story...
the scurge of making homemade
ravioli! believe me... once a year is enough...
sure, it tastes great...
but once a year is enough.
a. would you trust a skinny chef? i know i wouldn't trust a chef who's also a healthy-eating gym bro maniac, i bet he would never cook with lard or pork trimmings, with that calorie calculator lodged up his head that represents an ******* is not much to go with when taste is prime... 6ft1 253.5pounds, that's where i stand... i would never trust a health-freak to cook for me, let alone all the proofs rattling anorexic examples...
b. "***** take your shoes off and get into the kitchen!" what a ****** joke, chauvanism rampant... mind you... who the hell said that women belong in the kitchen? they don't... i don't want a woman in the kitchen... i've had two dinners cooked by my fwends' mothers when still in my early teens... 1. over-cooked pasta... my fwends father would pretend to eat the dinner, before driving me home while stopping off at a sikh diner and took to the take-away (cooked by men), another example beside the over-cooked pasta? under-cooked spring potatoes - after all... the men on ships and submarines that kept the other men firing did all the cooking... men can cook... or at least: that's the least they should do... think: organic chemistry experiments...
eating a raw herring
in piquant mayonnaise
of reminiscence of a
granny-smith and pickled
cucumber tickle...
slurping it up into
a workout of the oesophagus
might remind many
of oral ***: but after all...
it's only a raw herring being eaten.
p.s. well perhaps gulping down
a raw oyster does feel familiar
to performing oral *** on a woman...
but since you're not really
chewing the oyster,
or licking it... but gulping it whole...
i can only compared performing
oral *** on a ***** to
eating a raw herring.
and why all of this talk of food?
well... what's on the menu for tomorrow?
a bangers & mash stew,
old recipe from the days of the british
empire... mind you: why did they
call sausages bangers back then?
well, during the war, they put a lot of
water into the sausages...
and when water mixes with warm oil?
bang! bang!
'i was five and he was six,
we rode on horses made of sticks,
he wore black and i wore white,
he would always win the fight...
bang! bang!
he shot me down!
bang! bang!
i hit the ground...
bang! bang!
that awful sound...
bang! bang!
my baby... shot me down!'
(audio bullys ft. nancy s.) -
so obviously i had to take a walk
and buy the key ingredient...
i.p.a.:
and when they were stationed
in the raj, and the troops were receiving
provisions...
the standard beer wouldn't last the trip,
going off...
and dark port was too sweet...
so indian pale ale was invented:
more potent alcohol content and brewed
based more on hops than barley or wheat...
bitter: but my god, what a strand of beer,
like your typical irish stout...
which is why i never figured out
the bud to be the king of beers...
fermentation of rice? sure... it's crisp...
but also the sort of toddler **** you'd expect
from rice fermentation:
no body, no *****, no blood,
no palette...
easy stew:
sausages,
onions, garlic, celery, carrots,
leeks...
a bottle of i.p.a.,
some to degrease the pan the sausages
and veg were fried on, the rest for the jacuzzi...
some water, bay leaf, salt to taste,
tomato purée and 2tbsp
of muscovado sugar to bite through
the extra hops... mash on the side...
and an array of veg on the side too...
i still don't know where the idea
that women belong in the kitchen came from:
perhaps when the men were coal-miners,
and when the kitchen wasn't filled
with all the current day appliances
of convenience...
when women worked as hard in the kitchen
as the men who worked in the coal-mine...
perhaps then, in the early part of the 20th
century... when spaghetti dough was hand-made
at home...
then a woman could take pride in her
house-keeping...
now? now i guess: the same sort of melancholic
voice bound to nancy sinatra singing...
because once upon a time it was hard
work, running the house...
and then "suddenly"
everything became simple...
a man could walk into a coal-mine,
come back home and...
make himself a decent meal...
looking at what the english woman buy
in the supermarket?
couch potato maidens...
ready meal after yet another ready meal...
things have become so easy
that easy isn't enough...
let me tell you a culinary ***** of a story...
the scurge of making homemade
ravioli! believe me... once a year is enough...
sure, it tastes great...
but once a year is enough.
Mateuš Conrad
Apr 2017
.how does philosophy and psychology differ? well. psychology was spawned from having to focus on the "need" of a "learning" for writing: speak comes easy, writing, not so much. psychology is so easily spoken, philosophy isn't, philosophy is like a child talking to an adult when psychology / sophistry comes into play /
refrain... how do i rephrase this statement?
ah! philosophy is like a child talking to a child...
psychology is like an adult talking to a child...
psychology is a supertition of knowledge...
philosophy? a fear of knowledge.
knowledge does not make happy people,
or gullible talkative types, either.
... the birth of psychology contra philosophy... the when sophia over-powered the philosophers with too many observation cues... maxims and aphorisms... la rochefoucauld & nietzsche... it began with a dialogue, it maintained itself in a solipsistic monologue... it ended up as advertisement slogans: maxims and aphorisms.... cute observations: seen, "seen" but never tested... i've seen the ugly side of psychology... it's psychiatry... the big pharma carousel and slurred sedative spreschen... try getting a slurred sedative spreschen out of me... i'll sock you... i'm this: )( close to the itch of throwing a punch, i almost forgot what implies: peace... me dancing on old college's (edinburgh) roof while listening to: the shins, new slang... that was peace...
that was me: rooftop, night, moon,
and the lingo of limbs floating freely off my torso
and at the same attached to it...
i once cared about a "double" chin...
i grew a beard,
stopped worrying about: when will i learn
the violin... fiddled with my beard
for a while and figured: not now,
not ever...
much much more gracious
than fiddling with ***** hair...
after all: a beard is very much akin
to ***** hair...
jordan peterson and the old testament...
right...
if ever a cain...
siberia looks like the ideal prison...
after all god said, or "said": let him walk off his sins...
hard to walk off your sins when caged...
siberia? perfect training ground...
all that ******* being sold, cain? a vegetarian...
abel? sacrificed animal flesh...
paradox... so... god... expected us...
to remain hunter gatherers?!
cain was thinking ahead!
he sacrificed fruits and veg. and...
cain was like: we better start thinking about
morphing into an agricultural society!
god praised abel, the neanderthal hunter gatherer...
cain was like: but look! look! wheat! bread!
we can feed more people!
god said: hunter gatherer! abel! win win!
cain paid homage to god
via fruit & veg...
abel... via kosher blood sacrifices...
now... either i'm just plain stupid...
or god is a really bad fiction....
written up by circumcised men
who never learned to *******:
since: the obvious impediment restriction...
cain was a veggie... abel sacrificed animals...
mea culpa somnum... send this whole
died on the cross
ergo saved ergo ergo
my fault ******* to sleep... i'm tired of this mantra
like an eskimo is bored of ice...
i'm bored of listening to semitic proverbs...
i'm bored of their rubrics...
their: "fate-warnings",
their superstitions... a semite will forever remain
a semite for me: kippah-***-tonsure...
or a camel-jockey brigade... lucky them they settled
on a once grand mountain range
of Sahara that was the bed for oil...
oh look! wow! i can think for myself!
wonderful...
which is what i always thought
would become reality...
i'd watch a video...
not comment,
and write a rebuttal...
which would fall on deaf ears...
or that sacred minority report...
i'll face it if you face it:
the monotheistic god of the semites...
is as ridiculous
as the poloytheism of the pagans...
the monotheistic god of the semites
is just too... pristine...
give too many omni- prefixes
to a being and he becomes, boring...
like superman...
and to still preserve intellectual
integrity within the ontological omni-
zoo?
hey! feel free!
i much prefer to believe in a "god"
of a limited circumstance...
as the will of creation? sure: omni- etc.,
but as a spectator in the back of the minds
of the "created"? cameo presence...
hence not omni- etc.,
after all: free will is free will...
and it requires no divine intervention
in order for it to be proved...
however bad it happens to be upon
embodiment...
god was never a source of intervention...
the jews begged prayed lampooned for
that sort of god...
did it fare them well? i don't think so...
god was always a cameo for me...
something i could rely on...
in terms of finding my grand jurisprudence
libra... when the human sense of justice
would disintegrate...
and i'd be met with the west saxon mantra
of: innocent until proven guilty...
or a jimmy saville...
i was wronged,
no one will believe me,
fair enough...
at least i've found some source
of compensation,
for the time being,
before i believe: not to be reunited
with the dead loved ones...
but before i believe to stand
in the grand court of judgement...
with king Solomon as the prosecutor.
do what the english language does, it uses
hyphens to create compounds... just do this:
object-object...
would i **** it? depends on the follow-ups
that constrict the two-way "system"
of re-appropriation
with the german language...
it really is the new: north south east west
"copernican" discussion...
the **** am i supposed to do
(as a male) with an object
that's not object=object... because it isn't...
or object≠object: well? because it
clearly isn't...
****, bro?
can i get a hotdog instead?
yeah yeah, extra onions on top...
but write it out in
that natural **** schizoi fashion
as post-german compounds... hyphenated,
but instead include the following variations...
and put them up for a narcissus inspection
and ask: are they chiral?
stress-free is a compound word...
but it's easier with an object-object
compound... 'cos' then you can **** around with
object-object... object=object...
object≠object...
object~object...
object≈object...
and object≡object...
it's close proximity, i gather, so it's hard to
orientate yourself as you might with 1 + 1 = 2...
but it's in english, and english is
prone to try and forget the norman conquest
and rekindle itself as: with a germanic origin,
and all that custard that modern german
looks like: i'd be sooner wearing sun-glasses than
actual optic magnifiers if i was found
reading german krupahunddoughchew...
or the likes of this fake example.
true transgender? it happens in the ≡ category...
the binary...
it means: even though you're male
and can't fulfil the female role of a reproductive
****** capacity... i'd still *******...
joke's on me...
but otherwise? apart from the starting point
in the english language...
the hyphen and compounding words
as is the "vogue" standard...
so working from object-object...
and then including the stated variations
of a dualistic **** by dichotomy...
ah man... i'm just talking about
how english is trying to resurrect its saxon
ancestors... what with creating these hyphenated
words... you're going to shove some
other mathematical symbol in between
the two stated words and think of
some grander schematics...
the death of the university coincided with
the death of the asylum...
evidently 2 + 2 does equal 4...
but it's still a case of working
from object-object...
object/subject-subject/object?
north, east, west, south...
what the ****?!
we have modern neanderthals
roaming this place, and they're faking
the status **** sapiens... that the hell can
evolve from that?
clear and bite-sized truth acknowledgement:
we're **** schizoi... split brained...
we've reached a stage where
we're not modelled by a multiplication impetus,
but an obelus impetus (÷)...
western society figured...
as **** similis: we have a billion chinese and
a billion blue indians of the raj...
why should we be bothered?
isn't that the case of what's happening?
unearthing the nag hammadi library
and the whole transgender movement?
oi! where's the vatican! get those cardinals off their *****!
white, red, purple, black.
pope, cardinal, bishop... priest...
sure sure... brown.... monks.
but we're losing a fight against neanderthal islam...
come your hungry, your oppressed...
your first cousin ******* retards.
i know i'm taunting,
i'm taunting with a reason: neanderthal islam....
so much for history and gloating about it
citing the ottomans; thing is... i have lost the ability
to fear death... i'm actually teasing it, more and more,
day after day, after yet another day...
it's a bit like the reverse process of
castration... i'm feeling up pigs' genitals, saying:
oh look! this porky can sign in #A!
quick! to the castrato oink corp!
yep... etymology... the alternative to reading
history.
refrain... how do i rephrase this statement?
ah! philosophy is like a child talking to a child...
psychology is like an adult talking to a child...
psychology is a supertition of knowledge...
philosophy? a fear of knowledge.
knowledge does not make happy people,
or gullible talkative types, either.
... the birth of psychology contra philosophy... the when sophia over-powered the philosophers with too many observation cues... maxims and aphorisms... la rochefoucauld & nietzsche... it began with a dialogue, it maintained itself in a solipsistic monologue... it ended up as advertisement slogans: maxims and aphorisms.... cute observations: seen, "seen" but never tested... i've seen the ugly side of psychology... it's psychiatry... the big pharma carousel and slurred sedative spreschen... try getting a slurred sedative spreschen out of me... i'll sock you... i'm this: )( close to the itch of throwing a punch, i almost forgot what implies: peace... me dancing on old college's (edinburgh) roof while listening to: the shins, new slang... that was peace...
that was me: rooftop, night, moon,
and the lingo of limbs floating freely off my torso
and at the same attached to it...
i once cared about a "double" chin...
i grew a beard,
stopped worrying about: when will i learn
the violin... fiddled with my beard
for a while and figured: not now,
not ever...
much much more gracious
than fiddling with ***** hair...
after all: a beard is very much akin
to ***** hair...
jordan peterson and the old testament...
right...
if ever a cain...
siberia looks like the ideal prison...
after all god said, or "said": let him walk off his sins...
hard to walk off your sins when caged...
siberia? perfect training ground...
all that ******* being sold, cain? a vegetarian...
abel? sacrificed animal flesh...
paradox... so... god... expected us...
to remain hunter gatherers?!
cain was thinking ahead!
he sacrificed fruits and veg. and...
cain was like: we better start thinking about
morphing into an agricultural society!
god praised abel, the neanderthal hunter gatherer...
cain was like: but look! look! wheat! bread!
we can feed more people!
god said: hunter gatherer! abel! win win!
cain paid homage to god
via fruit & veg...
abel... via kosher blood sacrifices...
now... either i'm just plain stupid...
or god is a really bad fiction....
written up by circumcised men
who never learned to *******:
since: the obvious impediment restriction...
cain was a veggie... abel sacrificed animals...
mea culpa somnum... send this whole
died on the cross
ergo saved ergo ergo
my fault ******* to sleep... i'm tired of this mantra
like an eskimo is bored of ice...
i'm bored of listening to semitic proverbs...
i'm bored of their rubrics...
their: "fate-warnings",
their superstitions... a semite will forever remain
a semite for me: kippah-***-tonsure...
or a camel-jockey brigade... lucky them they settled
on a once grand mountain range
of Sahara that was the bed for oil...
oh look! wow! i can think for myself!
wonderful...
which is what i always thought
would become reality...
i'd watch a video...
not comment,
and write a rebuttal...
which would fall on deaf ears...
or that sacred minority report...
i'll face it if you face it:
the monotheistic god of the semites...
is as ridiculous
as the poloytheism of the pagans...
the monotheistic god of the semites
is just too... pristine...
give too many omni- prefixes
to a being and he becomes, boring...
like superman...
and to still preserve intellectual
integrity within the ontological omni-
zoo?
hey! feel free!
i much prefer to believe in a "god"
of a limited circumstance...
as the will of creation? sure: omni- etc.,
but as a spectator in the back of the minds
of the "created"? cameo presence...
hence not omni- etc.,
after all: free will is free will...
and it requires no divine intervention
in order for it to be proved...
however bad it happens to be upon
embodiment...
god was never a source of intervention...
the jews begged prayed lampooned for
that sort of god...
did it fare them well? i don't think so...
god was always a cameo for me...
something i could rely on...
in terms of finding my grand jurisprudence
libra... when the human sense of justice
would disintegrate...
and i'd be met with the west saxon mantra
of: innocent until proven guilty...
or a jimmy saville...
i was wronged,
no one will believe me,
fair enough...
at least i've found some source
of compensation,
for the time being,
before i believe: not to be reunited
with the dead loved ones...
but before i believe to stand
in the grand court of judgement...
with king Solomon as the prosecutor.
do what the english language does, it uses
hyphens to create compounds... just do this:
object-object...
would i **** it? depends on the follow-ups
that constrict the two-way "system"
of re-appropriation
with the german language...
it really is the new: north south east west
"copernican" discussion...
the **** am i supposed to do
(as a male) with an object
that's not object=object... because it isn't...
or object≠object: well? because it
clearly isn't...
****, bro?
can i get a hotdog instead?
yeah yeah, extra onions on top...
but write it out in
that natural **** schizoi fashion
as post-german compounds... hyphenated,
but instead include the following variations...
and put them up for a narcissus inspection
and ask: are they chiral?
stress-free is a compound word...
but it's easier with an object-object
compound... 'cos' then you can **** around with
object-object... object=object...
object≠object...
object~object...
object≈object...
and object≡object...
it's close proximity, i gather, so it's hard to
orientate yourself as you might with 1 + 1 = 2...
but it's in english, and english is
prone to try and forget the norman conquest
and rekindle itself as: with a germanic origin,
and all that custard that modern german
looks like: i'd be sooner wearing sun-glasses than
actual optic magnifiers if i was found
reading german krupahunddoughchew...
or the likes of this fake example.
true transgender? it happens in the ≡ category...
the binary...
it means: even though you're male
and can't fulfil the female role of a reproductive
****** capacity... i'd still *******...
joke's on me...
but otherwise? apart from the starting point
in the english language...
the hyphen and compounding words
as is the "vogue" standard...
so working from object-object...
and then including the stated variations
of a dualistic **** by dichotomy...
ah man... i'm just talking about
how english is trying to resurrect its saxon
ancestors... what with creating these hyphenated
words... you're going to shove some
other mathematical symbol in between
the two stated words and think of
some grander schematics...
the death of the university coincided with
the death of the asylum...
evidently 2 + 2 does equal 4...
but it's still a case of working
from object-object...
object/subject-subject/object?
north, east, west, south...
what the ****?!
we have modern neanderthals
roaming this place, and they're faking
the status **** sapiens... that the hell can
evolve from that?
clear and bite-sized truth acknowledgement:
we're **** schizoi... split brained...
we've reached a stage where
we're not modelled by a multiplication impetus,
but an obelus impetus (÷)...
western society figured...
as **** similis: we have a billion chinese and
a billion blue indians of the raj...
why should we be bothered?
isn't that the case of what's happening?
unearthing the nag hammadi library
and the whole transgender movement?
oi! where's the vatican! get those cardinals off their *****!
white, red, purple, black.
pope, cardinal, bishop... priest...
sure sure... brown.... monks.
but we're losing a fight against neanderthal islam...
come your hungry, your oppressed...
your first cousin ******* retards.
i know i'm taunting,
i'm taunting with a reason: neanderthal islam....
so much for history and gloating about it
citing the ottomans; thing is... i have lost the ability
to fear death... i'm actually teasing it, more and more,
day after day, after yet another day...
it's a bit like the reverse process of
castration... i'm feeling up pigs' genitals, saying:
oh look! this porky can sign in #A!
quick! to the castrato oink corp!
yep... etymology... the alternative to reading
history.