how can the heart be some primitive source
of the stated: item(s)?
as much as the heart can be assured
to fathoming the bleak basics
of feelings...
the mind is all but
the ivory tower, unshakeable,
standard brocker for any furthered
speech...
the mind is no punching-bag,
the heart?
always the punching-bag...
"suddenly" it's allowed to express
the heart, to cling to the subjective,
myopia of expressing
the encoded use of language
via the written form...
less: blah-blah...
and more:
something less available in the scribble
format...
i don't know where this anti-primitive
anti-subjectivity,
anti-emotion, anti-heart
rhetoric comes from...
oh, wait, i know...
allegiance, trust...
something made familiar...
the cold anglo-saxon
doesn't appreciate this,
it's not that he doesn't know it,
he just doesn't believe in
any existentialism outside
the realm of
encouraging solipsism...
what?!
hands, tied, pontius pilate
pose...
emotions: bad...
but... that's coming from the sort
of people
who have thoughts that
are more spaghetti, labyrinth-esque
than the ones
associated with seeking out
the existence of the genome sequence...
thought: overrated...
feeling: over-expressed
without a necessary context...
there's nothing bad
about feeling an honest
heart,
than thinking inside
the confines of a dishonest
mind...
and there's the pollo-corazón
estofado (chicken-heart stew):
saddle the donkey, i'll bring
the horse and saddle
with a wine-dunk-spare...
pensando-mitad-desesperado-(h)ombre...
you know what "thinking"
does to you in the southern part
of europe?
a ******* rotten plum
for a heart...
why is "thinking"
so underrated,
and "feeling" so overrated?
ah... the blah-blah instrument
of the chosen sharpened sprech
of the tongue and the spear...
Goths?
i heard they made it as far
as making it into
the Berber territory of
north africa...
besides the crusades...
there is a concept of jihad
in christianity...
the reqoncuista of Iberia...
you fight a fight to
reconquer of the lost
till & toll...
or the northern crusades
instigated
by the tuetonic knights...
****, i better remember such
events than waste my time
being inked in tattoos...
my psyche is tattooed...
which leaves the brazen tattoo
of a dragon on my shoulder-blade
missing, "lost"...
the ills of feeling,
the basic architecture...
coming from people...
who's thinking,
would never arrive at a Copernican
discovery...
feeling: bad...
oh, i'm pretty sure the heart
can be allocated some variant
of eloquence...
and not all thinking is good...
not all thinking can shut the heart
up...
feeling is hardly the primitive
variant
of the compressions of
the mind...
see...
but at least the heart didn't ask
for a freedom of speech
to translate the already given
freedom of thought...
sometimes you just want
someone to shut up
prior to telling them:
you shut up, or i punch you...
learn to eat your heart,
or at least silence your mind...
because i've reached a stage where:
talk is becoming really
expensive...
i will never understand
how... speaking freely
overtook the observation
done by Kierkegaard...
how... speech became more
important than thinking...
the more automated spew
of the heart's "voice"
comes prior...
to the mind's silence relieving
a man from thought,
and engaging him in speaking...
'ablar pequeño
toto minúsculo...
i want to feel all the emotions
in my heart, my heart is never silent...
even if i "think" my heart is silent,
it's still speaking,
lucky you: i filter through it,
and keep some of its wordings
cut-off...
my mind?
well... i can tell a difference
between a conscious effort
to succumb to and express a thought...
and what has to recline
on the recycling heap
for a worth of dreaming...
maybe that's why i dream
to little...
i'm ensuring my consciousness
is akin to pork...
hardly anything goes "missing",
almost everything is eaten,
even schnitzel fried pork cartilage
of the ears...
yeah... but the comment section...
of "thought" concerns?
they do not come from a kosher source...
i hate being bloated with
opinions i will make dialectics
out of...
it's like:
being turkey-fed crap...
become anglo-sax:
feel less,
never learn to temper your heart
with a silent mind...
just translate
your heart into the degraded
manifest of the waggling tongue...
the mind readily translates itself
into the waggling tongue...
i feel, therefore i dig a trench
of silence...
i "think", therefore i waggle
and blow helium's worth of balloons
to blah-blah-blah...
no... i think i'll stick to this
non-intrusive medium of entrenching
myself in phonetic encoding...
**** the cheap talk...
i have itchy tips on each of
my fingers attached to every word
in this spew, and also, with the last
punctuation mark .
