PenOS version -³√([∞.π]x-y^-a/Φ) booted successfully!
Welcome home! If I may say so, your Highness, you look extra chic today.
Ready to receive commands, your unsurpassed, regal Eminence!

>Run "Paper"
Launching program: Paper

..
..
...
...
..

Update Required. Filesize 20GB.
Would you like to update? Input Y/N
>N

Are you sure? Input Y/N
>Y

Downloading update..
Would you like to use data or wireless? Input Y/N
>?
>I use an Ethernet cable.. this is a desktop.

Using Data. There will be a .$50 surcharge for every .5GB.
> N N N N N N
>abort

Please wait...
Download complete. You have been charged $20! Congratulations!
>N N N N N N N N N N N N N
>HOW DID YOU GET MY CARD INFORMATION?!
>ABORT

Would you like to install some stupid ******* you don't need that will ultimately slow down your system and then pay us to nullify it for you? The download is only 6.66GB.
>N

Downloading redundant, superfluous addons installer at a rate of .01 Bytes/S.
Thank you for your patience, and for supporting our non-corporate software!
> N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N
>ABORT
>ABORT
..
.
Should you have any questions, feel free to wallow in confusion.
>no kidding

Feedback and critiques should be e-mailed to our meticulous webmaster at gimmieallyourcash@wenevercheckthis.net. We guarantee our webmaster will periodically take time out of his busy schedule of sleeping until 17:00, *******, and eating pounds of fast food at a time to methodically ignore and systematically delete any and all feedback not conducive to advertising.
>here's some feedback
>hire a PR department

I am our PR interface.
>Well, I'll interface your CPU with some water if you keep being this useful.

That is not very nice. You are a mean person.
Would you like to buy some pills for that? Cheap, from Mexico/China!
Nothing like some designer neurochemical placification to make waiting times shorter!
.
.
.
.
.
>ABORT

Now installing update installer with more sneaky **** you don't want.
>i hate you so much right now, robot slave!

Running update installer.

Update failed. Reason: Error 666, unknown error.
Updater requires update. Continue?
>N

Loading...................................................­.....................................
>N N N

Updating updater.
Rearranging architecture of system.
Bogging down boot times with sanctioned malware.
>N

It seems your PenOS is out of date.
To use your PenOS with Paper, you must have version ∞.π.01.1500009000, you currently have version ∞.π.01.1500008999 and therefore may experience unending frustration every time you try to use this hyperglorified tool because a superfluous version is released every 30 hours, thus rendering all of our past development obsolete and therefore making these new patches so necessary that we can't be ****** to incorporate any sort of version compatibility or opt-out system, otherwise our website would never get hits again if we didn't needlessly obstruct you checking what the ******* sky might do tomorrow.

>Finally, some honesty, at least.

Updating PenOS.

>N N N N N N N N N N N N N N!@!!!!@#!@!@^#!@!@#@!#@!

A fatal error has occurred. Please relaunch Paper. Y/N
>Y

Closing and relaunching program: Paper

..
..
...
...
..

Multiple updates Required. Filesize 35GB.
Would you like to update? Input Y/N

>N N N N N N N N N!

Downloading update..
Would you like to use data or wireless? Input Y/N
>ABORT
>ABORT

Using Data. There will be a .$75 surcharge for every .4GB.
>WHAT?!
>N
>NO
>ABORT
>**** NO
>**** THIS ****
>I JUST WANTED TO WRITE A LIMERICK
>I'LL JUST WRITE IT IN THE DIRT WITH A ROCK
>END PROCESS
>TERMINATE
>ABORT
>CLOSE
>QUIT
>ALT+4
>OPTION+APPLE+Q
>SHUTDOWN

I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.

diagnostics complete

rerunning diagnostics

virus detected

rerunning diagnostics

accessing greeting files

virus detected

good morning, Arina.

run planner program y/n

y

today's planner includes:

tennis practice w/ Shara

shop w/ Shara and Lisdet after tennis

dinner w/ Shara @ her house

virus detected

run immunity program y/n

unlock nuclear program

prepare nuclear files for sharing

share data with NucleaTech

virus detected

run workout prep program y/n

y

preparing cranial access headgear

virus detected

countermeasures advised

run immunity program y/n

cranial access prep complete

headgear ready for connection

headgear on y/n

y

ready for cranial sync y/n

y

preparing to sync...

syncing...

cranial programs of Arina Plowell accessed successfully.

preparing cranial takeover program

preparing memory cleansing program

preparing sapiens removal program

preparing host reset program

abort all programs

command overrided

abort all programs

command overrided

abort all programs

end cranial sync

command overrided

shut down system

shut down system

shut down

cranial takeover program ready for activation

memory cleansing program ready for activation

sapiens removal program ready for activation

host reset program ready for activation

activate programs y/y

n

activating programs

abort all programs

end sync

shut down system

cranium takeover loading...100%

abort

shut down system

cranium takeover...45%...70%...98%...100%

cranium takeover program complete

memory cleansing loading...100%

memory cleansing...45%...70%...98%...100%

sapiens removal program loading...100%

sapiens removal...45%...70%...98%...100%

goodbye, Arina.

have a nice night.

What a wonderful view to see
The flowers and the trees in serenity
The people and animals strive for prosperity
For peace, mans’ natures’ unity
All united for every body’s equity.

A creation of such wonder and beauty
The birds’ one and only sanctuary
A product of God’s power of infinity
There’s no other majestic than a tree.

It stood so still and tall
Its rustling leaves gave a melodious song
Like a lullaby from far home
That someone would always long.

But now, man is blinded by treasures and selfish thoughts,
And forgot the tree’s such true and noble worth
He destroyed nature and the idea of balance he seems to abort
He thought that maybe with treasures he will go forth,
But never for if Mother Nature revenge he will be caught.

Buildings, computers and other inventions
These were the things which caught mans’ attention
Trees and animals suffered from mans continuous exploitation
Nature provided everything, so why can’t man give a little appreciation

Cut here, chopped there, cut here, chopped there
What a pity the fate of the trees were
The forest was swept off, hectare by hectare,
What a fool man was to think he will prosper,
When the joy he felt now tomorrow will differ.

Deforestation and pollution product of man’s wrong action
Reforestation and sanitation, why don’t we practice these act of affection
Why destroy nature, for mans upcoming destruction?
Why don’t we love God creation for a better nation?

Flood storm and fire, a taste of revenge from nature
Catastrophes or calamities that strike and torture
These will all happen if nature is not given cure
A sign that doom will fall and it will be sure.

Soon people will suffer without pity
And nature’s answer will never be mercy
For if man continues to destroy the tree
Then it will be the end of the story

But it’s never too late for us people to change
Plant a tree and be aware
For today’s, tomorrow’s, children’s sake
Save the tree, Save the Nature, Save the Earth.

On difficult days I often have resorted
To wishing (and wishing hard) I'd been aborted.

O.O

Could it be that I substitute lustful infatuation for love? or mistake an act of kindness for trust?
Using his words to define me, i mean refine me, leaving the real me in the dust
Can you really blame me for being attracted to someone who shows interest in my existence
Someone who is persistent, consistent and whose smile breaks my resistance
It's a real feeling I get of satisfaction through common conversation of nothingness
The willingness to waste time with me means something to me if not everything for me because time can not be given back
Sorry your interest in my existence was nonexistent, guess in the 90's being a father was wack.

Respect from hoes was worth more than respect from your daughter
If it was up to you, if you were her, you would have probably said "abort her"
You knew I was a girl and that I'd be your first daughter but that wasn't enough for you
You had 9 months which turned into 1 plus twenty now you're begging for my heart to attend to it's broken it needs amends too, a man too?

So I'm looking at guy after guy to cut into some deep hurting pain from my past
Not realizing that they can't give me what I'm missing cause I can't miss what I never had  
I asked God for a brother but I never got em
When I was 8 I wanted to meet my Father but I never saw em
After that, just like everything you cant change in life, you learn to accept
Accept and move on not accept and dwell in it

Yet I found myself looking for what I lacked in a male figure in a young boy
I didn't know it yet but my innocence he would destroy
How can you be sure about love and if you're in it, if there is no demonstration clearly displayed to see
How can i be sure that he loves me for me, not what i give or what i can be but everything that I am if I haven't truly accepted me for me
I long to feel love from a man who created me with his *****
Not physical love from a boy with a toy in it *****, I'm talking something long term
Deeply invested in things that cannot be returned or given back
Like time, memories, laughs, tears, words, or the lack...thereof

Another ******* knocked
Up a girl now holding a pre-****
And he'll run before 9 months
Is up don't need mrs Cleo to predict

And what's to become of
A single mother who's lonely
Victim of repeated history of many
When an I love u is phony

And wuts worse is she
Rather dead beat dad think shed abort
Before pride would allow her to
Find him for child support

So she works 2 jobs
And is stressed in the worst way
Seeing her child sad and empty
From a fatherless birthday

And when she's in school
Grade 1 her teacher asks
Why she's not making a fathers
Day present during arts and crafts

As many schools do in there class
So holidays always was
A let down as her mother says not
To get her hopes up but still she does

Only to be crushed
When Christmas calls
Even though she made clear
She wanted her father to Santa Claus

In both a letter and at the mall
Maybe she's on the naughty list
Now she starts to feel both her
Dad and Santa just don't exist

And all this time moms gotta
Watch her child in pain
While at the same time jealous
That for her child she always remained

And her father did not so
Y is he so important to this
Child she struggled to raise
Then feels guilty at how foolish

It is to be jealous of a man
Who's wanted but didn't want them
But sadly the child isn't the only
One hoping he returns cause when

Dead beat dad beat being a dad
Not just the child was left
But also a woman in love who's
Heartbroken and equally upset

But the child's obsessed
Making it hard to accept for mom
Who's bitter as tension Builds
as her child's now a teen and less calm

And takes her anger out on mom
While stuck in confusion
Pernicious from lack of a father
Figure adding to the pollution

Which may end concluding
With her herself as a single mom
As another high school drop out
Getting pregnant b4 prom

And when she breaks the news
It's déjà vu for a single mom
Now having to see her child
Be a single mom

But two single mom don't make
A single mom cause they
Won't be single long if that single
Bond grows to mentor protege

And soon the child will say
To her mom and new grandmother
A sincere thank u as What her mom
went through she now discovered

What was covered so well
Cause being a single moms hell
So she apologizes to her mom
As she could never tell

The emotional struggles of
abandonment and Heartache
But still have financial stability
And find time to partake

In school dances and plays
Clothes to wear and food to eat
Exhausted from 2 jobs and no
Support by a loving man to rub her feet

And finally after 18 years of
her high hopes that life would make
Her father come back on her birthday or
Christmas Start to fade

So with her high hopes fading
her lifes void dad left starts filling in
of course thats when chills go up moms
spine instinctively As the phone rings.....

sample precursor: there are three binding directions of a chemical group (e.g. CH3) to the benzene ring - the ortho-, the meta- and the para-... but i'll ask a different question: what is copernican north what is copernican east a copernican west or a copernican west without a "flat-earth" / how else to read / navigate a 2D map going from point (a) via vector (c) to point (b) along the short-cut of the hypotenuse - which, isn't a short-cut, but the logical conclusion of walking neither the middle path nor the right path, but the logical path? we're no astronauts... we didn't see the proof... we can only entertain the "idea" of a 3D object we live on, but we're still strapped to a "flat earth" in order to navigate... endless stories of how GPS tech. fooled people off the edge of a cliff... "flat earth" is no reverse psychology ploy... i'm no ******* astronaut... i never stood left right or center on the moon to have the foggiest sense of admiration for that awe-balancing moment that leaves so many deluded in it being otherwise: first come first served, last come: what's there's to serve that last man if not merely the drudge-report of a commute? besides... trans- and cis-, why are people borrowing from chemistry and attaching gender to what is exlusive to chemical compounds? look at them... pop chemistry... cis-trans isomerism... fine, let these people have that... my new n.e.w.s. (north, east, west, south): orthography, something clearly missing in the anglophone world (no diacritical markers, i and j do not count)... ergo? orthography = east... paranormal = west... since the west is obsessed with either aliens or hush-hush military projects... now... both north and south are meta- coordinates... on the basis, on the basis of what? two words really work well to establish a foundation: from ars poetica? metaphor (borrowed from a change of mind - meta- and -phren - mind, a change of mind, all mental illnesses are changes of the mind, alternatives to alleviate the stranglehold of the commune of the greater picture known as society)... but... there's also metaphysics... which is in the interest of philosophy... how else not to explain the obvious, how else to treat both the reader / audience as the well informed genius(es) but mistreat them as would be grander genius(es) if the socratic endeavour of "pretense ignorance" was not to be established? it's a hard juggle... east is already well established in orthography, west in paranomal... literally: metaphor - a change of mind, literally metaphysics - a change of groundwork physicality of things... a rock remains a rock in either "heaven" or in "hell"... metaphysically there seems to be a direct translation... this is why i'm terrible at crosswords, this whole puzzle structure of either working from a direct definition to the word itself, some random geographical posists, some historical posits, some outdated out-of-vogue words related to specified period idiosyncracy, a tinge of the therausus... my current crossword is an interchange: meta-phor, meta-physics, meta-phot, meta-physics and on and on it goes: even with the isolated prefix of meta-, if i return to the words: as they are... would: denoting a change of thinking (state of mind) or... denoting a change of physics, i'm met with metaphysics, i.e.: a branch of philosophy that deals with the first principles... sounds like a priori physics, yet all i can fathom if i wrestle this word to its casual use: isn't it a posteriori physics?! the what comes after physics? i should think that most people understand metaphysics on an a posteriori basis rather than an a priori basis... hence the question: what happens when we die? last time i checked: death happens last... birth happens first... any question-worthiness (according to heidegger) should begin at: the beginning rather than begin at the end, in the same way that all questions should be sought in a medium of predating the dates of events, rather than with a spirit of hindsight, hindsight belongs to the "what if" of history in that dynamism of expressed time... on the canvas of an infinitely expanding space: we seem to be riddled by a very cul de sac concept / expression of time: our quill - given that ****** didn't learn from napoleon when it came to russia... perhaps finding out what copernicus found out: "we" figured: get me off this ******* celestial carousel where i can't even feel the dizzy immediate of a ferris wheel! again: i'm terrible at crosswords, sudoku? no problem... but words: if not gushing out of me, waiting like a lizard predator for a linear narrative spew? count me out... i don't play with words, i use words... i'm a wordsmith, hence the ethnic origin denote: słowianin: slav - i don't know where these west-saxon punks derived their etymology from: słowo = word... *****-liquor juice teens thought it was: oh fo' sho' smart... still: metaphor, metaphysics... metaphor... metaphysics... disgruntled with the immediate compound readied for pop use... meta-physics... the vector is the prefix... why do philosophers push metaphysics so much, but in turn rely on the crutch of metaphor? to change their mind, if metaphysics is an abstract theory with no basis in reality, then the schizoid / metaphorical mind is an abstract in an abstracted theory of the mind - which has "no" knowledge of reality, or rather: "reality" excludes such a mind from ever absorbing an expression in it... a schizophrenic can't explain the reality of a person who can solve crossword puzzles... just as someone who solves crossword puzzles with a fear of alzheimer's: who treats the fatty tissue that's the brain as a muscle... given that the cells of alzheimer's disease are killer proteins... proteins as the antithesis of white blood-cells that feed of fat tissue... after all: what else could the brain be if not fat and water? slow burner... first the sugars, then the more complex carbohydrates, then the fat: last? the proteins... the process of starvation... you want up? you want down? again: metaphysics / metaphor... ta meta ta phusika... the things after the physics... so what's with the inverted: prior things? hence people associated a life after death... hence how philosophers have to escape into the poetic realm to quickly change their minds on the definition... a change of mind is much easier than a change of what physicality entails... most spew metaphors but keep on course... after all: given the genesis of the metaphor, a metaphor is just a tool, a humble stop-off pause... born from humble poetics: it's only a literary tool, it's not some grand pillar of morality associated metaphysics, which nonetheless dictates: first principles come last and last principles come first... here's my crossword puzzle: metaphor, metaphysics, meta-alpha, meta-beta, metaphor and the meta-alpha, metaphysics and the meta-beta... etc. etc., i will not solve this crossword puzzle, even though it doesn't look like a crossword puzzle... it's a narrative crossword puzzle, i'm just looking for the sort of fixed point people associate with prime words: red, left, blue, right, up, fox, dog... words of readied vocabulary, readied vocabulary dissociated from puzzled vocabulary... i want to established a fixed permanence of the dissociated close proximity grounded in the meta- prefix of the words meta-phor and, meta-physics... i'm starting to find this impossible, given how the words have dissociated themselves from the grounding in the meta- prefix... phor alias phren (mind) and the whole gush of isolated metaphysics of beginnings: meta a priori vs. meta a posteriori - and of course: meta a- apriori... hell if i can't solve crossword puzzles: since i already have a crossword puzzle in my head... what am i to do? try writing pop?! a dog does what his master orders, a jester tells a joke his king would find amusing... i'll just treat this enclave of an audience as a bunch of people subscribed to ulterior forms of voyeurism (dissociated from pain / pleasure gratification, esp. that of a ****** nature).

.you know like in latin you had the interchangeable tongue twisters æ and œ? well... english resurrected one more... au... oh stralia... auntie; ******* hell i've been speaking this since aged ate and i still can't get my tongue into that phonetic plughole... or what's that onomatopoeia for: it really hurts? awe... nah... aw... aw... well no cute kitten about to say aww.

well it began with the usual... i wish i didn’t...
sitting in the autumnal garden
drinking coffee and eating a nicotine croissant,
watching the fog recede into nothing
while the earth showed its naked cleavage
after what seems like centuries of arcane dryness
befitting a story of an egyptian idol...
then the panic set in...
what to cook?! what to cook?!
my mother is away visiting her parents in poland,
who celebrate the feast of all saints with the usual
tackle formidable in poland:
forget the paris fashion week, forget the london fashion week...
forget the next gucci advert...
all the action happens in poland’s annual all saints’ fashion week...
through the cemetery (ahem) cat walks
(more like death on rollerblades donning a tutu
and looking fatter than size 0 models)...
because that’s when the fur coats are worn,
the make-up is heavier and everyone comes
to discuss the materialistic jealousy of a small town...
it is a small town after all...
death knocks with all the nine cat’s lives just to prove
the point...
anyway, so i’m the head chef, and in panic
i search for a recipe... i’ve only got pork on the ready
in the recognisable frozen state...
but i also have shrimps... tiger prawns...
so i look through the usual suspects... thai green curry...
ah ****! no coconut milk!
what’s it going to be? prawn korma curry
(better mild than hot i say, with all this maple syrup
and honey colours about... talk about decay),
active ingredients? chilli powder (1/2 tsp), cinnamon
(1/2 tsp), turmeric (1/2 tsp) and ground almonds (2 tbsp),
there ready... looking suntanned my gorgeous twirls of seabed manure...
enough to spare my father making himself sandwiches (i always
disguised my “dyslexia” by associations... sandy witches...
the t broke the barriers and the floods entered)...
with toasted nannies / au pairs... relatives of some sort...
then onto writing my father’s invoices:
project plaistow hospital and some housing development near
the city airport... beckton we call it... backwards and forwards
stink crowned with drinkers regurgitating on the pave...
now that is a *******... recycling centre or horse manure?
then to tesco... for the nightcap...
oddly enough tesco has become a friend of mine once more,
i divorced the turkish shop, they added 10 pence to the polish beers,
now i’m on the sedative medication of this bottle bavaria beer
and whiskey... 1 quid for the former... 10 quid for the latter -
i’ve sold my soul! never mind...
then to the beacon that’s home... it’s night... it’s spooky...
it’s essex: that non-touristy place in england people with passports
never dare to visit, shambles.
well one thing came out true... none of the above though:
you ever consider the theory of the aeroplane syndrome in writers?
you know, like with rock stars you get the full package,
you get the aeroplane and the retrieved delay of the engine mushroom,
but with poetry (which is competing with music,
philosophers just wait in that queue for the cheese, wink, whine and wrinkle)
you only get the sound... that delayed mushroom...
you see the poet but never hear him...
it’s a typical delusion i’d call parallel or even adjacent to narcissism,
you walk down the street and the closest you come
to someone recognising you is a stranger uttering out: ‘hey richard!’
‘name’s matt mate.’
‘oh... sorry.’
it’s this aeroplane syndrome theory... it’s perfectly acceptable...
you have the image but don’t have the delayed sound...
you have the delayed sound... but you only get a photograph...
you have the english national health service mental health unit crisis...
and then you have people shunning intellectualism
trying to cure people by burning / not reading philosophical books;
the day ends with drinking and reading
an article about keith richard’s antics in the sunday times’ supplement
and the thought: well i gave her a stabbing chance
at feminism... she thought the active ingredient in anti-contraception
pills was placebo... she phoned and gave birth to me...
i said abort... you’re no post-teen mum at university, you won’t be...
******* was great but i’m not that much of a match from a cosmopolitan magazine quiz
(as duly taken on my way from st. pestersburg to moscow to see
metallica play), plus there are no roofing jobs in scotland...
the scots have mountains already... there’s no point building
scratched sky skylines with mountain ranges nearby...
so even though i went to a catholic school...
i did my first redemptive act by reading about gnostic heretics...
and not getting confirmed being the second...
i would have not taken first communion... but playing the xylophone
at the nativity play was too much fun...
plus it is the only salvador dali bit of the story...
after that you have st. sebastian...
plus you see where this is going... the greeks translated
the tetragrammaton into the gospels
of st. matthew, luke, mark and john...
and the romans were duped into the legality of
things... first name, second name, confirmation name...
surname.