.i somehow found myself in a predicament, i can only read German philosophers in English, and that's my sole exclusion "manifesto"... basically i can't fathom reading the genre of philosophy in the English tongue.... i can't... unless they're German... i have to return to the Slavic intricacies, whereby my consciousness is occupied with a translation perspective... English was never supposed to aim as high as speaking of philosophy, the English were never adept in asking questions: given they always gave the answers in technological, scientific, architectural foundations; the people of practicality... their downfall? tickling Marxism translated out of economics, and into culture... their one downfall... and.. it looks, partially, as it worked.

what, what what have we 'ere?!
   bobby on the beat...
lookie lookie, lookover here,
the jokes runs...
and the priests in Eastern Europe
are known as crows...
krúki...
     as a peoples who weren't
invaded by the Romans?
   looks like i've learned a thing
or two... about orientating myself
with the said letters...
no... St. Cyril didn't come past my parts...

etymology:
   sve-                (self sight /
           swoje         /       my)
  -to-                    (that / this)
    -vid               (widze, i see) -

basically?
the god, "in question"?
                 what i see, myself...
i see, as myself,
and  what is, self,
is what, i see...
detached from anyone else
that sees...
  (i see what i want to see...
i see my own, and as my own,
this is what, i see).

the priests are crows,
the police-officers are dogs...
i love crows...
ever see crows mate in daylight,
akin to pigeons?
  i've never seen crows mate
in daylight, in public...
they leverage their courtship
to the night,
in secluded areas...
             crow knows best...
a crow will to imitate a pigeon...
a crow will mate with a female
at night...
   and notably: in a secluded
march of a land...
a crow is not a pigeon is
not a reverse exhibitionist...
     a crow is a crow is: crow...

just like with the German philosophers...
some, i can actually read in English,
rarely, but i can...
within the confines of the obscure works,
esp. their revisionist texts...
e.g.
               via the variant:
da-ist-sein...
                      there is being...
well not **** Sherlock...
i've just encountered it about
the "second" time for the past 32nd year!
but da-ist-sein...
  well... there's no a priori schematic
to encompass the statement with...

   how the people prance citing Hegel,
while forgetting the basic building
block of Kant... like Beethoven mattered...
when Handel was the orientating
composer to pay attention to...

sure... da-sein can have an a priori
and an a posteriori reality...
but da-ist-sein doesn't have an a priori
contingent plan for rhetoric...
a sophistry...
      mind you..
  we live in the times where
sophistry married solipsism,
and said:
           take some time to reflect
spending time with transitions,
airport banalities of trans-national
transit, in terms of people...
taking a bus trip seems like
a breeze these days...

                 fascinating,
the English educational system involves
the Roman Empire...
oddly or rarely considered luckily am
of a people not conquered by the
pre kilt pansies...
                          and i'm scratching my head,
thinking...
                    but up to a certain year:
i seem to have no past,
just like you...
lost to the vehemency of institutionalizing
Darwinism as a replacement
of whatever history is implied
at that point...
not physics, not geology...
  thank **** that chemistry is not prone
to exert a historiological influence...
where i was born?
a flint-stone colony... half an hour's
worth of a bike-ride...
flit-mining... flit-stones...
   whenever science teases the humanities
by incorporating a "study" of history?
i lose it... chemistry never does this
sort of *******...
but biology with its historical Darwinism,
but physics with its historical Big Bang theory,
these sciences play both science
and a humanism game...
   bad idea...
  chemistry at least affects
the romantic movement...
what is a day in the day of the month
of the year, of a day, within the confines
of james joyce's Ulysses?
           oh look...
the double standard of the maxim:
an insignificant spec of dust that's a worth,
somehow, worth investigating...
nonetheless a spec of dust...
   the larger the universe becomes,
the smaller the human cognitive potential
becomes...
but the smaller the universe becomes,
the larger the human cognitive potential, is.

Thank you,
for cleaning up my room
it was dark and full of gloom
until you came
gently picked up the trash
and did a few spins to me singing jazz

I too tried
to clean up your mess
we both were full of
emptiness

Times have changed
and I still sing jazz
but now you have left
and my room is a mess

islands?
    highly likely to be "equipped"
with a "disappropriate"
number of oak trees...
    and a low number
or no number
of pine forests....
or birch tree enclaves....
pockets of
                      the "fatigued"
botanical scouts:
that the birch tree is...

                   islands...
highly regarded as cultivated
and subsequently calmed
by the phenomenon
of tides...

                   ancient oak,
so riddled with being
island bound...
                    any attachment
toward an organic expression:
necessary pharma intervention...
all, and everything
inorganic expression...

                  cultivate
the weapon, to stop the adherence
of people using them...
    once more...
"i'm confused"...
am i? am i really?
so... you're not more confused
than i will ever be?

        i just keep forgetting...
like amnesia or some
sort of summary *******....
you catching the drift?

                  what i really want
to forget:
i am kept being reminded of...
no...
          you're good
with the collateral...
   "damage"...
   one "thing" to execute
the innocents,
     another to blame them...

  no wonder i sleep so well
whenever on the continent...
in england?
   the scent of pine woods...
the scent of birch tree enclaves...
"too much" oaken forests...
"too much" referneces
to antiquity...

        sodden-load-of-*******...
heart-warming grunge rock...
   or as some would like to call:
the general fatigue of fame...

no... i still don't know why
the irish would reference
romans,
not being conquered...
  why would any german,
deviating furthest north
     from the Danube,
celebrate this, the latin encoding,
why would the Pomerenian
folk feed a necessary,
celebration..
with remotely the example,
akin toL
               adalbert of prague?

coming to a people
"without a past"...
            limbo-god-craft...
deference:
                 honestly?
i don't even know the name
of the saint that coverted
"my people"...
   i hardly feel incubated
by
a sorted pass,
that borrows from
ancient rome...
           i am not of a people,
belonging to, any,
people...
              i feel no inclination
to belong to either of the
present past,
or the past in a pressing now:
to be made: past.

  no...
            i'm not englishman,
i am no ******...
at best i'm not even an ancient
greek concept of
a citizen of the world...
right about now?
i'm all,
in understanding the encompassing
role of ronin.