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Mateuš Conrad Feb 2023
Kaiser's hiccups
/are/
   and \were\
   legendary
and probably
  |will be|

having a little break cleaning the house, after having taken out the garbage, the dustmen always come later than the postman, around 2am, i'm guessing my street is their last point of call... which suits me just fine... the house was almost entirely cleaned, vacuumed, floors wiped with detergent... ugh... **** it... lazy fingers... i opened up my guitar case, the PIECYK (amp) is ******, i still have my first ever acoustic guitar but i'm missing three strings, my electric still has all 6 strings... i'll get some jam out... i haven't practiced in years... i figured: if i can't find a drummer... if i can't find a bass player... try the mandolin outside a girls window once, give up the dream, put a poster of a rock band on my wall... do some art when i'm completely "out of it": drunk... poetry: not a most spectacular art... well: it would be spectacular without all the ******* puritans of form, rhyme and: meter? they call it a meter but not a metre? that's a bit like telling someone you weigh... that's mass in kg multiplied by "X" is... 999.6N... ah... i know... science shoved it's pickled brain into casual talk: the distinction between weight and mass... mass came after weight... weight is still commonly expressed foundation akin to height... but it was a welcome break with my seemingly dead electric guitar... dangled a few jangles and jingles of remembering when i used to play... Silverchair's Shade, Red Hot Chilli Pepper's Under the Bridge... Eric Clapton's Layla... Link Wray's Rumble... Grieg's in the House of the Mountain King...

only today i realised that people are truly lonely...
odd... when i was in my utter depths of despair:
no one came... but who did come? me!
i picked myself up, no one was willing...
but then... coming across a descending /
an ascending choir of song in an empty church
then hearing a great wind disperse the singing:
i did have my technological asset with me...
the hallucination, the, "hallucination" was so potent
that... regardless of putting in my headphones
or not... the singing continued...
it was only when i scuttled and hid beneath
the altar and took the altar cloth off the altar
and covered myself momentarily with it
then starting running around the church like
a headless chicken... i know! i know! i know with
a BURNING I KNOW... if i uttered a word
i would hear the wrong reply!
either a god descending or a devil ascending...
after all... either side has a singing choir...

people are truly lonely...
i'm alone... loneliness is something that
attracts people to me...
i can't stomach loneliness...
for me that's like... the cul de sac of former
extroverts having an orange with no
orange juice to trickle down into a glass:
half full? regardless the optical misnomer of
calling the same glass: same... half empty...
i am more than willing to do this security
job because i get to do some decent work...
like being a chemistry teacher...
it's a great narrative canvas...
i write over what was already talked (over)...
that's how you get to paint by writing...
you're not some Tolstoy's...
no... not some Pavlov's dog trying to wet his appetite
but also sweat... via drooling saliva...
before my shift i had that random conversation
with mother...
she was watching the t.v. adaptation
of Leo Tolstoy's War & Peace and i said to her:
i don't recall having ever read Tolstoy...
he's not like Dostoyevsky, is he?

so we compared: Tolstoy is the writer
of the macro-cosmos... of events that shake nations
and the individuals: "individuals" are sort of:
chess-pieces...
it's the sort of literature of the salon...
Dostoyevsky is a psychologist...
a world war II might be taking place...
but... but... some Heinrich *******is getting dealt
a terrible hand of both luck and fortune...
like i said to my ailing mother:
she half-jokes aligned with giving birth to me
being her crucifixion...
i joke back: maybe if i wasn't born
i would have both my hinds...
i was once called a: hunchback angel by a guy
advocating the advent of the DUB-STEP musical
genre... way before DUB-STEP became bust
and only associated with SKRILLEX
"drop the button buster, beat, blah blah"...

reimagine drunk conversations in a pub...
in a PLOOB... Scouse? i don't know... maybe somehow
someday, maybe...
    ich sehen rot.. ergo: ich aufladung,
i.e. go! i.e. gehen!

people are so lonely, not having read anything of
philosophy...
if i were to learn anything from the sage-father
that my father isn't....
read philosophy when i'm old and clinging ton sanity
with a chance: oops...
*******... death end clue...
what?                        before you're dead...
please leave your nappies alongside the rest
of the remains of you...

i was having a: drinking session with
newly married couple... Irish traveller...
i downed his, my, his, my: whichever pint
long before the closing hours were done...
Frankie... Francesca...
**** me... Matthew Conrad "m.d."

it's called: tunneling!
me what?! a **** was asking me to g back
to her flat to sniff some *******...
smoke some ****....
i'd love to...
        but i need to make my mother
a coffee come 9am...

i never realised people could become so lonely
and when drinking enough become so blatantly obvious
about it...
it took me one night trip to find a fox's corpse
by the side of the street
to subsequently find a skip and some black bin bags
wrap the road-****... walk with it for almost five miles,
stopping off at the house to weigh myself
then me and the carcass...
amassed to about 7kg... a big, healthy *******
of a fox...
when i was picking him up from the pavement
at 5am a man and a woman were eying me up
like: no... not a ******... a shaman...
they should i might be pretending to chop the fox up...
i just didn't want such a beautiful creature,
beautifully dead, serene, lying on the side of the street...
the only burial i gave him was throwing him
into some thorny bushes by a stream...
another time i was playing i-see-you-but-you-don't-see-me
with another fox... sat on a curve and just eyed it...
until a woman passed the fox and me sitting across
the street drinking a beer... WE'RE MEDITATING!
did the fox flinch? nope... the woman walked about a metre
from the fox... ****** didn't flinch...
i was working up to the TOTEM...
it took one afternoon of the door being opened to
my kitchen and me cooking up two curries...
hey presto: BRODY...
that ****** came for leftovers from meals for over a month...
until, he stopped coming...
i'm guessing he was hit by a car...
but... i'm guessing my care for one fox being
somewhat properly buried and another fox coming
to inquire about: what smells so good
is the reason why i have captured such great photographs
of a fox in my garden...

- hmm... date? or after work coworker drinks?
i know that i scribbled in my little notepad
when she went on her Nth visit to the toilet...
my guess is that males have weaker bladder
of the sexes... a SPRINKLE OF SOME MARIJUANA..
i'm waiting for VOLTAGE...
i'm about to hallucinate in ink... burgundy mixing itself
with Bishop Purple...
those first 30 minutes after a sunset...
cycling down the A12 with heavy traffic... reaching the Green
Belt between Romford and Mark's Gate...
breathing through the nose...
Spring is teasing... Spring is teasing with her
oncoming stealth of scents...
the earth is yet again starting to breathe...
first comes the botanical kingdom,
soon after will come the kingdom of the insects...
wait! i have not heard of an angel or a demon
associated with botany! in charge of, say... roses...
too good of a mark for a Saint George with...
or was that St. Stephen...

write like an imitation of ice-skating...
pretend to fall... gain momentum...
think out a thinking of shadow, curb,
night and walking Ninja hey-presto! feline...
think a loudness: think the loudness...
the ***** of a 4 x 4 pedestrian cross
section of Tokyo...
leave your cycling attire on the bed, stinking of you...
watch a female cuddle and curl up to your Lycra
long-shanks for the specific reason: been cycling...
acid on a bicycle... the 1st and the only ever tRIP...

i always wanted to travel to India...
and walk back to England...
i always wanted to do that...
second: if? aha... QUESTION "question" questing onion
quest of an onion... ANSWER:
i swear, i: as it were... as it is... i: as it were:
i of i, i off i, i vs. no-i...
not i vs. not-i: schizoid broo... Brrrrr... BWOOM(B)
***** a-plenty with witches...

fly fly away my little star...
fly fly away my little st'ah... st'ah...
Stachurski! da da da... ditch Z-Detusche:
na minute, na chwile! na jedno
i drugie dingo dingo!

Lord of the Mushroom!
and mushy peas... and... dhal...
Lord... Bel
              פִּטרִיָה               (Be-EL)

i'm shocked that the gnostics didn't...
to be honest? what was missing in Hinduism?!
what was missing in Hinduism?!
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

oh yeah... that's a Satanic laugh that is...
a laugh that makes the existence of soul viable...
it is a glowing...
when one internalizes laughter with eureka
and mixes it up with stage-fright and a "hate"
for the sound of one's voice...
but then from time to time...
one is caught singing while doing chores and finds
one's voice appealing to be given song
rather than words to speak or write...

but not even in Egyptian mythology...
it was coming! it was ******* coming home!
the botanical godhead...
in the pantheon was missing!
was missing in the pantheon!
the

פ
P / PH / F (greek sidelined, referee: TH)eta
ט
T
ר
R(esh)
י
    YOD: first son of Yiddish: YON... by a boy named
YON...                  a

      e                                               i
                            Λ
                            Y                                  (LY)HH
    
                  o                       y

ה
hello friend: vowel catcher and laughter generator ...
ה not Π... that one connecting letter: ח

hmm: older than capitalism and communism,
but to simply the problem up:
capitalism is the lion
and everything English...
capitalism is the bear
and everything Russian...
vice versa for communism...
the English bred their mythos on the superiority
of a lion and... a unicorn... more a Celtic, Scottish... thing...
the Russians on... a union with the bear...
the bear and the two headed eagle: ergo:
another unicorn...
like the Srbs... serbs... two headed eagle?
the Soviet downfall with the two-headed eagles
of Chernobyl?
       ******: moi... i seriously sometimes forget
my own ethnicity i'm so caught up in English
metropolitan... cosmopolitanism...
      the Global City-Free-States... CITIES AS STATES...
very imaginable...

not City-States... rather... on the global connectivity
project?
what Dinosaur what meteor?
what super-volcano what Yellowstone
what man?
  it's a bit like Pompeii...
give the worlds greatest party and then the volcano
explodes...
better than a meteor: a volcano killed us...
Yella Big Yella...
            the greatest, supposedly no OB-EASE:
into obese...
          ah ah... tongue out... speak! the prolonged A
of neither ah not āh...
                      -
                        2

                                      ****... that's chemistry's notations...
                     2
                  -                                 (huh?!)

the macron over the A... for AAH...
i.e. not an:                                                      ah!

                        á!
                                               A
    
                                   H                        H

           á                                   'ey?!
                                ha ha: key?    hey?!

the burial ground of...
    hmm...
               BEE-EL...
      
PHTRYH: the godhead is that of a mushroom...
people partied to the music of: infected mushroom...
a god is making himself known...
like the false god of H. P. Lovecraft
horror-imago: Nyarlathotep...

precisely! what vowels!
PH or P or F?
   two H's emerged... a good sign that it's PH
for aesthetic reasons...
scribbling this down...
i feel like i'm actually left-handed...
a diametrical opposition to the stasis-enforced
gravity of nothing falling: everything sitting...

ph(aeiou)t(aioue)r(aouei)y(aueio)h(aeiou)

if insects can be allowed the dimension of godly
creatures: thousand blessings on the head!
the lion's head the eagle...
emblem of the Volk of the Volcano:
a Mushroom-Head...
                    
toilet... ah... welcome relief... the water is running...
running...
hmm... from a top... otherwise flowing...
if...
lake: mirror imitation, Lake Narcissus and
his brother Sea Samael: Death...
     like absinthe before adding water like it
was milk...
the water is in tide: with tide: use the FORCE...
tide...
   like water found the force... the force:
with force water found gravity via tide...
earth found gravity with the quake
fire found gravity with the sparkle of the stars...
fire... charcoal peered at night at the already
lighted... as he admired the lightning with fear...
no lightning ever warmed...
comforts of a distant home... fire found gravity
envying the stars... Prometheus who?
and the brothers of Gaia?
Fero...
                fire...
                              AQ... the water brother...
ah... forgot about the younger sister:
AIA...              air...

what a weird ******* date, coworker after shift drinking...
i've never been on a date with a lesbian...
i felt... TESTED... we watched almost the entire match
Chelsea women vs. Tottenham Women Hotbras...
coming close to the end of the shift she asked
if i wanted to go drinking...
sure... why not...

            hmm... it became a date... after she bought the two
rounds i paid for on our previous encounter
when we actually went ice-skating and i became
a local internet sensation for teaching seagulls how to fly:
wearing ice-skates, frozen lake: fly fly!

so we start... the pub is getting busy...
it feels worse than a strip-club...
at least in a strip-club most people are naked
and people get to wear imaginary masks...
in a pub? **** me...
people are dressed up and are made to wear
imaginary clothing! ha ha!
masks?! what masks... a LIE is 10 masks... one lie equals
10 masks... because a lie concerning
the body of soul... is accented with more than
a physical imprint...
LIE MASK AS IF PRETEND SUPPOSE SO
AS IF AS SO CALL IT QUITS
ACTING

it felt like a date... she was getting all nervy...
going to the toilet... checking her phone all the time...
i was patient, smart girl, while i was pretending to
opt out from her OCD... check the phone...
check the fridge-freezer... check your opt out
capacity for a TV license...

how do you go out on a date with a lesbian?
neither you nor her are advocating for woke talking points...
about pronouns or... Furry? listen...
she talks to me about getting FIFA '22...
i finished gaming off at PS1 and reliving the golden days
by re-watching the walkthroughs of
MGS2 (metal gear solid 2)...

because? movies are ****...
i don't want to want these women...
i want... a ******* canoe and a ******* paddle!
and a grizzly bear cub to cuddle and a birch tree to cuddle!

MUFFA!
YEROYI... AHMADI-DEM-BASHAI
YAMSH'EH GIBYT!
VAZOL: OCH TIBI IM PEO-OM-KATA
ES O I TOBOM.

no language suddenly praise with the rigidity of
continuation...
i'll be honest... what do i need a woman for?
to get old, get a haircut... buy food...
not watch the sunrise or the sunset...
instead watch the news on t.v. watch the t.v.
not watch the aquarium?
don't own an aquarium?

own a car but don't own a bicycle?!
in London...
it was 2: so nie to know you: snooze:
represented by letter Z or 2...
if 5 is S and 6 is b...

                     the marriage of letters
to numbers... numbers? meaningless...
absolutely... meaningless...
199 KILOGRAMS
200 CENIMETRES
X contra "x"...

        dead-weight marrying
      1 + 1 + 1 = 3
when marrying
o + n + e = one...
              ah! but 3 and one are different!
former? the forever unit...
latter? the splinter, E3...
forever question...

               turn 3 into omega...
when sharpen it up for a SH... hide the H...
wake up the Z... hide the Z
emerge with a v above an
                           S

call it crown....

     - so Francesca asked me to go drinking again:
again a date doesn't feel like a date...
am i supposed to know about the plethora of female
sexuality?
         **** McDonald one day...
   straight out of Orange is the New Black the next?
just for drinks... i thought we would equal out the tab
on who paid for what previously...
went into the pub at around 20:30 came out around
00:15... we watched the females' football league...
her team, Chelsea beat Tottenham at the Leyton Orient
ground: no plague of parakeets...
honestly: hand on my heart and one on my ear
standing naked before four mirrors:
i did not hear about wild parakeets... parakeets
in general since: only since i worked the Craven Cottage
shifts... Bishop's Park was full of them!
there were no wild parakeets in Essex... not that i know of...
i once listed down all the birds
i could see from my garden...
seagulls, kestrels, two hawks battling in the air,
woodland pigeons, urban pigeons,
crows, magpies, sparrows, swallows,
robins, blackbirds, Canadian geese (migrating),
mallard ducks (also migrating), swans (migrating ditto)...
but sure as **** no parakeets!

in that session i bought only 1 round...
she was hungry so she ordered food...
three plates of food...
fried wings with two sauces...
a bowl of cheesy fries with strips of bacon
and a bowl of popcorn chicken which
i first thought was: battered and deep-friend
mozzarella nuggets...
i had three things... showing off my eating skills...
my grandparents never used to eat
the cartilage and the best meaty bits
off of the chicken legs, drumsticks or wings...
i went a step further...
a bit like eating a whole apple... including the core...
aa magic trick of eating:
you begin with holding something in your hand...
then it disappears completely...
holding an apple, whole, and eating it whole...
subsequently is a bit like playing with a top hat
imagining red eyed albino bunnies, from Albania
(albino >< Albania).. clash of borrowed letters
but two completely different meanings...

etymologically: Albania: land of the Albinos:
Albanios? more like a he, noun...
a mountain, a he...
                 a lake: he and she... neither, always:
if reading English like a native
of the tongue...
                        Albatross from Albanions...
poetry borrowed from a dictionary, rigid function:
hiding the rhyme
exposing the etymological "rhyme".
Alba-
                                      white...
a dyslexic meets a Daltonist in Dover..
the dyslexic arguments are along the lines of:
Dawid Bovie... dead... pish-poor shapes to be be
before huddling out the grave
for a Madame Tussauds pose and a quick nap
and not asking for
a Doppelganger like Sisyphus without a stone
but the equivalent worth of the stone
in pebbles...

    i would be a fair god...
if i'm willing to give birth to an angel of the Botanical realm
since there's the Lord of the Flies... Beelzebub..
and there's the Lord of the Mosquitos: Jesus "sacred heart"
reincarnated by Jungian inspection
a literal: MOTHER... ******...
Chirst...
                      it's not enough to play the pig's blanket
and pretend a crucifix is a ***** and in dire need of being
used by a ******* according
to Marquis de Sade...
Phateroyah...
                     obviously the vowels will change...
with vowels like water and consonants like earth...
punctuation is like air... punctuation and a physical
representation of writing: nothing ethereal,
nothing metaphysical... writing with expression
on our faces... writing as something less and less
a claustrophobic or its implosion: to an effect...
writing less about an extension of thinking...
in the Cartesian dynamic:
res extensa: via writing, alternatively:
if one were to be prone to smoking enough marijuana:
auditory hallucinations... writing is
by definition the same variant of the EXTENDED classification
as a schizophrenic's auditory hallucination...
the former just forces it upon others...
the latter is unwarranted access to a corrupted ego...
a hurt ego...
an ego without the capacity to imagine,
to dream, to digress...

i showed her how to eat chicken proper...
i ate three wings, two chips avoiding the bacon and cheese,
and about three popcorn nuggets...
i forgot myself: once all the cartilage on the bones
was cleaned off... i went in to bite into the bones...
the ends are sort of soft and marshmallow-almost...
not in texture... in my reimagining:

reimagining - hmm... Kant...
         remembering...
a prior... remembering...
   a posteriori: reimagining...

if a crime happens we don't have an a priori remembering
tactic... ingesting the realm of a prior
with memory... remembering...
that's what we do...
what came before 5? S? or !!!!! five exclamation marks?
or? >>>>> five more-than signs?
did 5 come before five?
did words spawn numbers
or did numbers spawn words?
clearly they're not identical...
and they operate two different realms...

we have words for numbers...
as we have numbers that are also letters...
but numbers are not words...
even 3.14159....
                   is not a word, but a letter: Pi i.e. P...
it's not a word... it's at best a letter...
i'm thinking the gods are words and the angels
are letters...
  while the anti-gods are constants
and their "angels" are numbers...

constants?
                         3.14159..... is not a constant... it's a freak of O...
a circle... and a whole mythology of the Wheel...
O... ****** VENUS...
  phallus... the egg... Oh and 0ero         Z: zed extended
via snooze: zzzzz... harps and snoring... terrible music...
constants? in numbers as if creating a word?

6.02214076 × 10²³ mol⁻¹

                     Avogardo's: the equilibrium dynamic if
i remember correctly...
today i learned about...
     Jakob Fugger... back in his day worth around
400 billions "x"... who financed the construction
of St. Peter's in Rome...
i now wish i visited Rome instead of Venice...
          i would have had more fun in Rome...
  
(algebra is the reply, letters imitating
numbers... should the inclusion of MOL be a problem)...

i bit off the chicken legs marrow...
she was in the toilet about fifty ******* times, each time,
ordering more drinks...
we came in at 20:30 and left at around 00:30
at one point she was in the toilet and
i just remembered something...
they have this "thing" in Japan... where you pay a stranger
to pretend to be your friend...
i'm not pretending... but conversation is dry...
i try to ask questions: i ask questions,
i hear replies... but i don't hear reciprocating
questions... Mr. Familiar has or had no problems?
people confide in me and yet
whenever i try to confide in them
i'm told to shut up...
oh... i get it... i do...
before i knew it i was this heaven-sent ideal...
i was the strength and they were the weakness...
i see it now more than even...
she can tell me about her abusive past...
her drunk father who kissed her mother with knuckles
instead of lips... how she's a lesbian but also
a butch ******* **** with hands almost as large as mine
and how her daughter was put into care
because "X"...
but my shizophrenia is a "schizophrenia" is...
i wasted my 20s on anti-psychotic drugs and psychiatrists
that i bundled up and threw into a hornets' nest of
******* *****, threesomes (just the one, but one is
the threshold)... prostitutes: you talk more with your
eyes and your hands and your other endings
and your nose than you care to ******* lasso a string
of coherent words together...

my problem? what problems?! exactly...
there's nothing wrong with me: i have no regrets...
i don't need to speak to someone with an endearing
sake of self definition... i can just scribble notes down
and leave them for some yet to be born
****** of petty things...
i can do just that... no wonder i can't open up...
talk about... "me"? that's still packaged goods...
i'm waiting for the morbid call of a biography
postmortem...

it's strange going on a date with a lesbian...
it's not a date it's me going for after-work drinks
with a colleague...
it's me and her eyeing up the same behind the counter:
tight ***, fake eyelashes she can pull off...
her unwashed pink-fading dyed fair:
feminist... it's me telling her a little about my past:
i had long hair before,
i couldn't pull off a Jesus...
i would only grow a beard if i cut my hair...
short...
she's still trying to find me on social media...
god: i love keeping a girl in suspense whether or not
i have any social media presence...
best try it out with a lesbian first...
we talk about dating apps:
i have a knowledge of their existence...
but hardly a knowledge that might demand
the pressures of: USAGE...

i end up drinking the night away with a revelation...
i was eyeing these two pairs of love birds for some time...

when i was at the Ol' "John's" taking
a whizz... this Greek version of Freak... o.k. o.k.,
ETHAN ROARK type... balding on the top
of the cranium, allows his hair to grow long...
didn't you know...
Garry Glitter was released... he's already
been harangued by the ******* "police"....

what like Batman did a "forever"?
          
   i get paedophiles doing a second jester runner
with meeting up with underage:
sorry... not boring enough?
it's like pretending to be a mandible,
aerobic classed agility with
a prosthetic... that's what ******* a teenage girl
might feel like:
i rather run with deer....
or charm a fox into becoming my totem...
should i be reincarnated what might i come back as?
i'm not banking: i'm saying: fuchs!
fox! LIS!
if i were to freely roam the prance-lands of Essex
as a fox... that's me, done and dusted...

but i wouldn't inhibit a man willing to repent...
after all: if no forgiveness?
the Muslims were right: no crucifixion took place...
did it?
a 78 year old can be given a heave's sake....
life's fruition and that's done...
sorry for the hurt parties... living their:
adamantly purposive lives
with the weight of: Abel not dead...
sorry... the story goes... Cain murders you....
you're still live yet:
you're supposed to be dead...

i'm only making excuses for Gary Glitter...
i wouldn't be for...
Ralph Heimans...
                                 it's music and i can't stop
listening to Rock & Roll parts I & II...

**** me: i ended up the night...
she hated ***** accents.. Liverpool-day-john-ion...
part Eirish: skirmish: scoot!
a Swabian swap... an "oops": Ludwig... or was
that Lufthansa...
this girl, a ***** bridge,,. i'd love to add hired
bride...
                  but instead?

Traveller Irish... i was talking to a bridge...
bride...
you want a drinking race?
ejecting the two pairs...
i snuggled down my pint: his pint...
in 3x glugs... i saw a phantom of an opera...
what?she told me she never used social
media before marrying?
why do i need to Afghanistan to find
datable brides? i squeak and wriggle myself
into the CAMPER VAN culture...
Irish travellers... so? i'll drink with them...
i'd drink with a repentant ******* asking:
was it anything like Nabokov prescribed?!

£30 for 3.5grams of ****...
time excavated? 30+ hours...
£120 + £10 for entry for an hour with a *******...
well... i'd love to prove my masculinity
with having a competing:
hopeless: always alive sort of battery life:
kept up: *******...
but even i think *** is primarily a dosage of
insect desires...
mammals like us sometimes
tend to play games to escape the pressures
of ***...
requested: what? getting my beard trimmed
or getting my underwear "lost" or my ******* "trimmed"?

i get it... ******* are people who are not afforded
a chance to compensate...
relieve themselves through the shared
antics of (shared) grief...
just like Jesus Christ once crucified can't be
resurrected! n'est ce pas?!
what if... the ******* can be left alone...
in his freedom and a freedom-sickly-cage...
what if?!

a bit like saying:
but i can't be anti-racist...
i can be a non-racist...
but i can't be: anti-racist...
                    there are humans either side of
the "argument"...

one mighty argument of goo after another...
inverting the whole dynamic of dates...
seen your face for over a year...
now i heard your voice: your soul...
you heard me laughter...

a naked table, a naked chair...
a dressed table, a dressed chair,
a lightbulb with a cloche...
rigid Slavic KLOSZ...
walls: brick or slab...
naked... wallpaper slapped on...

   how did that "date" end up?
i was speaking to Irish Travellers...
the ****** types... caravan dwellers...
with the girl... snogging before
ordering a pint....
how she was Lady Margaret all pristine
didn't drink or use social media
before getting married...
i was chasing pints...
race: 3x glugs down...
  i out-chased him...

the pub was closing, we wanted the people out...
strange so, talking to this Irish Traveller Lassie,
most settled people with mortgages or
council houses, flats... avoid speaking to Irish Travellers...
but the revelations she uttered...
i might as well been talking to a Muslim girl...
by her account...
she didn't start drinking before she was married...
she didn't use social media,
she said that in the travellers' community having
a social media account is a bit like *******...
hell: i think it's much worse...
fair play to the capitalistic system...
but social media is what it is...
         it has marketed our private-lives...
not written as a complaint...
                        i allowed for that to happen...
willingly...
now i can't simply walk away from the gallery...
i still don't know what to do with it
instead of making if a reference point akin to:
the red and the amber and the green
of traffic lights...
the "system" wasn't going to capitalise on the market
of my dating preferences and ****** encounters...
sure... i don't mind a public "dear diary"...
a place to store links to music videos when i forget
to add them to my browser's bookmarks:
because i've probably added the same song twice...

but Kant has been bothering me...
ever since i wrote:
a priori remembering
    and a posteriori reimagining...
why do i think that it's impossible
to a priori reimagine?
              
i need to go back to the rubric
and try to burn it into my head like the alphabet
was burned into my mind once...
one of the following four
is impossible:
    with the simplest expression for each:

(analytical) a priori                             (analytical) a posteriori
1 + 1 =2                                                   not every man is a ******
wrong!                                                   some men are
that's synthetic a priori!
+, /, £

(synthetic) a priori                               (synthetic) a posteriori
1 + 1 = 2                                                   £: money makes monkey
i synthesised these                                either that shaman
numbers...                                              mushroom on an ant's
analysed what prior?                            buttocks or:
the increasing number                          the botanical "anomaly"
the added, subtracted,                        money is: asexuality it's
multiplied,                                              what if Adam gave Eve
by god sq. rooted?!                              her first un-earned banknote...
1, 2, 3, 4...                                              spend freely! not having
                                                                earned it!
                                                               what if Eden and the apple
                                                                are wholly outdated
                                                                metaphors?

hmm...

the first £10 she got? was that money earned or money freely
given? was she handed down an allowance or
her first earnings? the trickling down idea follows suit:
if her father gave her money for free... for completing "chores"...
if he gave her an allowance: worse still...
without chores...
why wouldn't expect the sane fir passable:
future partners: daddy day-care "hoes"...
                           my daddy this, my daddy that...
HUBBY no. 2... give give...
i drink less... i smoke some marijuana
and i remember that i read some philosophy...
no new grounding since Wittgenstein
gobbled down Spinoza in a ferocious
of homosexual madness of jealousy...
misunderstood by at least 4 parties...

*** and women unplugged...
some of us boys are playing a game of Alchemy...
solid silver, liquid silver...
i guess plastics are gassy silver...
***... can i please assume there might be
two mouths breathing?

I ate your breath before you ate the apple...
i ate your breath while you gauged
my eyes and saw milk in your *******...

in the labyrinth of: i sigh...
i'm to your bidding bound, sire...
i ate your breath long before you might have ate...
that fruit of autumn, fallen, rotten...
fermenting.... this rotten fruit...
no, not plucked from three... ripe and sweet...
rather picked up attired in autumn's clothes:
auburn, over-ripe cinnaamon-brown,
orange and yellow...

you gave me a drunkard's bear or ilk!
male deer! you gave me a drunkard's apple!
i might be stumbling:
but i'm still chiming with the blues!
what Mosad Mandarin faction of
the intelligence community?

   ching-fang-*******-wall'ah-CHANG
wrote a similar (liar) armistice peace-war:
if we can't use this military equipment...
let's, make... ******* movies!
woo yee HA!

Baron astronaut, ergonomic... a house ought
to have two doors: H... a house
ought to have rooms focused upon the dynamic
of Y...
oh **** your woo! woo! glue my ***
of the Tetragrammaton:
i heard it once before:
the Arabs got their pearly and Kentucky bound
Timothy....
while the Hebrews got the paranoia...
windmills in Chelsea, London,
not Kansas... New Lit Bits of Jersey....

i was left aghast... um... i laughed...
i couldn't say the words ****... pairing it up with her voice...

well... according to sources all knowledge a piori
is ANYLYTICAL... but what was i "analysing"
when i was conjuring the letter R or the number Z?
i borrowed the circle from the sun
and the house from the cave?
i must have done so...
i probably conjured the game of rugby from
the sea's tides and yoyo from an egg of a dodo...
and the goal posts from the letter H...
ripples in the water ZigZag and M and W...
cosine as the refined W
and sine as the refined M...

   a parabola confined in a W...
D in do and devil...
God with Dog and: all?! ah!

    i'm not dumb: i just want to extract more from Kant
than people, ever had, toyed with a jihad of had the Hadiths
in a puddle of paper: equaling the refined weight:
of the organic worth of bark? timber: temples of stone
have turned the gods all cold:
about 5 kilograms for a stash of a week's worth of newspapers...

please please don't let me understand myself:
please oh please don't let me understand myself:
when i'm sober and especially when i'm slightly drink...
drunk... drunk... and smoking a bit of ****...
and...

grass is green: after having established that
not everything is grass
and not everything that's grass is green
wheat? grows like grass...
but it's not green...
and it grows taller than grass
and cows and horses don't eat it...

i could watch a thousand movie and listen to a million
songs... i could even manage to love a woman
and her tell me in the cravat adorning mammal skin
caravans... but i'd still go to bed with Kant...


   it's not that difficult but i need to ask myself to burn
this rubric into my mind...
under each the easiest expression: an abstract...
i just can't word it differently:
a priori remembering...
true...
a posteriori reimagining...
also true:
after the fact of seeing a tree...
can i see a tree prior?
ergo? i can't be capable of a priori reimagining...
first i have to see a tree...
but upon seeing the tree i can't reimagine it...
therefore i can only reimagine what comes after seeing it...
how do i practice a priori remembering?
on the most practical level...
i remember 1 + 1 = 2...
history and memory...
sure... but what of history as epistemology?
as a child i'm not really taught that 1 + 1 = 2...
knowledge and 1 + 1 = 11... not "somehow" just by
"coincidence" of the missed meaning of the cipher +,

epistemology and etymology are the only
two branches that should be given access to the study
of history...

reimagining a tree is impossible in that it's a realm
of geometric abstractions that borrow from
geometric orthodoxy and render them useful:
a tree is a home, i can, reimagine a tree...
if i reimagine myself as a bird or a monkey
perched in a tree... reimagining the roof...
via the sky... but that's hardly likely,
mountain and cave dwelling: home...
a prior reimagining is in its own right something...
but reimagining resulted in the dimension
of a posteriori...
i reimagine a tree and make it: a talking tree...
i apply pareidolia...
or like with clouds... those favourites...
why would i reimagine clouds a priori?
i can... but then that would imply reimagining
cauliflowers... or rather: clouds remind me of
cauliflowers: but that's not reimagining either
clouds or cauliflowers: it's remembering what each
looks like and why, subjectively i remember:
that i think they're alike...

hmm... proof: no pudding....
clearest blue...
          or solid green... the Jade from China...
XINY X= CH
we can apply the letter X in our tongue...
that's what marijuana morphs:
the perception of time... 10 minutes already
feel like an hour....
xolera... cholera H! hhhh...
                 xorwat - croat...
                   xemia - chemistry....
chmiel: xmiel:
                              toad breath!
the stuff i sniff up before going to bed!
you ******* DYSLEXIC...

choroba: xoroba...
sickness...

  DYSLEHIC...
                   i'm asking for upgrades...
i hope my upgrades are not too: demanding...
i'm asking... i'm asking...
i'm getting **** all...
well then... best not become a priest
and conjure up what i might need...
i may need this that and the other...
Hebrew...
i'll need the vowel hiding prerogative
to be minded... i'll need Kant..
punctuation marks and numbers....
most certainly letters...
plus akin to comma....

                                 if still alive: i'll lso require death...

chwila: xwila: a fleeting moment...
lapsed timing...
           c H-A
arecz: samo-H-ah...
                  nie na xixota.... śpiew
raptem: tak! ha! ha! aha!

daj znać gdy ty i ja,
tak nagle żyją... i nie... o tak!
i mihght have a Frenchman's heart
to want: Romance after news of
a hereafter..
the moon is blue
the sun is bronze...
the air is milky in the morning...
the water is traffic and there's no
traffic... i'd like death before the explaining mantra:
what's worth a life: squid parody on... ******* skates?!

the love of the gods is doubly insulating...
first they try to demolish you: one ******* fatal claim after another...
the they employ women... they too... *******.. fail...
what are you rounding up against, you?!
sails without winds and no boats to sail with,
the supposed... great artefacts of claiming
the winds!

i once sat alone in a park... hair growing freely....
i had no addition of a face with the addition of hair...
i had no beard, not stubble...
the wind was and my long hair was
and there was, no war, no famine...
there was only dancing and twice reading
into a Charles Dickens...

twice: a rereading a text not available
for journalistic imprints of:
that satisficed mantra of derailing:
expectations of the meddling-ground....

oh well: oh nothing...
oh riddle me some more: nothing...
life is cheap: buy it bought!
sell it sold!
       earn it not living (it); earning it!
ergo: "living"... and (existentialism)...

   a king's frown is a beggar's stomach...
money makes money:
onions grow on trees!

giving birth to the son of Mammon
was... not... hard?
seriously?!
                          thank god i'm twisted in my own
sort of superstitious way...
when there's talk of a birth of an angel...
my ****** demands become joke...
i forget something, and within the confines
of something: almost: everything...

save180:

p'oh tay t'oh
but not
toe-may-toe
that's not
t'oh may t'oh
but...
t'oh m'ah t'oh

         if only it was a p'oh t'ah toe t'oh.
Cam Stoker Mar 2016
A is for all that I want to do with you
E is for everything that you mean to me
I is for all the times I tried my best
O is for my bank roll been put to the test
U is for the reason I keep on doing this
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Teach me
the birds and the bee's knees,
and I'll tell you about
the wolf in cheap clothing,
he gets his threads
at deep discount.

Recite me
the letters of the alphabet,
and I'll unleash upon you
questions and vowels,
AEIOU
and sometimes why (?)

Lecture me
on the dangers of fast food,
and I'll give you total recall
of the taco meat,
ring the bell
even-steven.
Learning and teaching should go both ways.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2024
i mean: how would you feel? living in a society... with these other people, being hell-bent on ensuring you are to be... made extinct? would you captilute for "western"... "secular"... "sensibilities"... what sort of ****-erosion of an argument is this... this Chamberlain's effort to wave a promise on a piece of: ******* toilet paper... wipe your *** with it... ****** implored... but no... no no... it has to be celebrated... this lost event in the periodicals of time... so imagine living among these ****** riddled half-breed Muzzies... imagine living among people that are parasitical in the economic sense and predatory in the actual sense of wanting to **** you... hagel dauer! it just takes one Norwegian-Nigerian to laugh in the night to think my writing is bogus... but there will come a time when this writing with be remnant of the times: and i... i? i'll be dead.

no, i wouldn't call it a bad reading habit:
the fact that i'm "currently" engaged in about 3 to 4 books
that i started and haven't finished,
not when i give a timeline outline of how far apart
i am in getting through each book or,
for that matter: when i started each...

for example Knausgaard's Min Kamp vol 6
i've been reading for almost 3 years...
maybe longer...
the entire collection was the last books my grandfather
gave me as a present:
he died by the time i reached vol 3... or 4...
i remember my first encounter with the work:
"impossible", or rather: dull to have read the works
in English: so i said to myself:
i'll give it another try in another zunge: namely ******
and how glad i was since Norwegian translated
better into ****** than English...
some historical travesty of the Polish state being
allied to the northmen via trade
and the amber road or something: or how English
was partially moulded by the nordzunge...
either way... i'm still to get to the juicy bits
of vol 6 where ****** is discussed and i too wanted
to buy a copy of ******'s mein kampf for
posterity but that's: ******* unavailable as a historical
artifact but i'm pretty sure that if Genghis Khan
wrote a book it would be freely available
and perhaps even venerated
because i, am... some ******* secular "prisoner"
while Muhammad's Quran is venerated:
although i suspect, with him being illiterate
which is twice-dyslexic removed from a first cousin
****** marriage... was written by his literate and
other acumen pronunced first older wife: Khadijah...
notably: he didn't have so many followers
petulent and shy and half the mad of Beelzebub's
(mucha: fly... in Polish)...            conquest of the desert...

why O whimsical sly whiskers and Why
would i care for slander
given the prancing pony parade of disgust after
the Magdeburg attack
like the media imposed this reading of 'terrorist attack'
somehow hailing the culprit
as a savior, in a weird, twisted way:
because he was a firebrand on some internet
forum hailing the death of Europe and calling it
to do more to emancipate Arabian women
from all that dough cash flow from the secret
pseudo harems of Ha Ha H'arabia
because all the European chicks like a bit of kink
when rich gluttons of the sand
ask them to perform inverted ****** on their
faces while taking a **** into their mouths:
or so the urban mythos goes:
no need for a trip to Thailand and the Kentucky
fried mouse...

                     so that's book one... i'm yet to finish...
another is Heidegger's ponderings VII - XI...
but that doesn't really count: no book of aphorisms
and nota bene "apostrophes": anecdotes blah blah counts
as something you might read unlike a newspaper:
skimming, tossing pages around like a wind...

    which also includes Masudi's the meadows of gold...
there is no real narrative to the work so i can "cheat"
on that reading...
        yet starting Jan Fosse's septology was a big mistake:
thinking: ooh: a Nobel Literary Prize laureate could:
but couldn't... the prize was awarded
a bit like how H'american elections go...
the popular vote of the people is worth zilch and nada
because there's the College vote and that matters more
so it's almost as if democracy is a fakery
of arithmetic: bad count... bad grounds for shadow
governance...         and this was worth a Nobel prize?
i think is dropped so many times
there is no punctuation
     it's like the advent of the printing press whereby
ink and paper were expensive and there could be no
poetic cascade
   just the myopic paragraph fudge and inorganic chemistry
of stones...
saving money and ink and paper condensing
paragraphs without spacing indicators
beside the 💊𓄿
                              (¶) - which borders on cyrillic in
the mirror with N and И
R and Я
                                     so someone once said
that most of the time, in the realm of poetic:
we write about what we're reading...
                       but not so much about the simple fact
of the per se: writing per se: reading per se...
it's a simple fraction...
    i always adored the equilibrium of:
            not writing more than i read
and always reading more than i write...

           if all should come to a fork in the road
i could condense my thoughts via letters encoding sounds
by isolating letters as if they were not sounds
syllables... ooh... syllables and languages that employ
the antithesis of the atomised tongue
like Japanese and it took me a while to imagine
having my tongue cut out and thus trying to say
certain letters as if i didn't have a tongue
and i could get away with using only my mouth
and lips but i couldn't get away with some of the letters
because they do, actually, require a tongue an the palette
of the upper mouth...
like T...                    counting all the vowels:
5 in English... 7 in Polish...
funny: Polish as a tongue: it has as many letters
as there are teeth in the gob...
unlike English with it's 26 although the 26 are debetable
since C K Q S and q: kw
                              
lips and mouth alone along the aeiou pentragram rubric...
B works fine withot the tongue
C just as well... although hoarse sounding...
D... doesn't... it morphs into G...
since D employes the tongue and the teeth...
so without tongue D morphs into G and the 5 vowels...
vowels don't use the tongue
just the mouth and throat and air...
F requires the tongue...
H doesn't require the tongue...
                 J requires the tongue for the succinct stresses...
K is the crown of the uvula being tested...
    L most certainly requires the tongue...
       K is tricky: but hark like a crow and the tongue
can be abandoned...
          M as: ma ma
  m'eh m'eh... moo...          as long: well put Am Om
and it's a breath closing the lips...
        N does require the tongue...
Q and coo... but since Q is a two vowel letter
it does require the tongue...
T, S, Z... all require the tongue...
   W doesn't...
                  R before the numbing the trill by some vague
"tarantula" bite... did... didn't... let's suppose
the French and the English still trill their Rs like the Spanish...
                 and any other letter i omitted: X?
evidently the tongue is stressor to otherwise
the breath and the lips doing fish Bob's service plunder...

but it feels healthy like that:
a newspaper handy: my my... so the savior of Europe
is some Saudi psychiatrist
Germany is on the poking stick of resurrected Weimar Rep
fuckery
        because now the story goes:
it's no longer a right wing mental health case doing
some scooping for info
like watching ****** speaches on South Korean t.v.
and how sane he almost sounds
when he's not in full glam demonic rhetoric mode...
and to think:
at the time of the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth
we were a people known for religious tolerance...
we even managed to found the first Protestant nation:

the devout Catholic king Sigismund I the Old (1506–48)
accepted as his vassal in Ducal Prussia,
the Lutheran prince Albert I, Duke of Prussia,
thus creating the first Protestant country in the World...

oh and with the largest diaspora of the world's Jews...
but then we were taught lessons
for our tolerance...
first the partitions... then the onslaught of the Nazis
coupled with the Soviets...
we were taught a different toleration:
the toleration of: you will not live among us...

it took a month for Poland to be conquered
during world war two... no mention of Russian involvement...
but it took six weeks for Germany to conquer
France... France... a colonial superpower...
versus this newly emerged pauper state
that sent men on horseback to throck grenades against
******* tanks...            irony: history is so ironic...
it's not even on repeat: but how humans interact with time:

if Einstein conjured the space-time dynamic
then i had to delve into a humanism
of a science and call space: architecture...
that the ancient Romans once occupied
the capuccino lands of Plaza Pizza...
with their coliseums and football stadium reinventions...
and time being history: well hey presto!

Horace: quo me, Bacche, rapis tui plenum?
where are you scooping me up with force?

in times of crisis: it is best to leave follies aside
follies of literature / narrative... proper...
so i picked up a Polish translation of Aristotle...
Great Ethic and Poetics...
i never thought i'd come to Aristotle having begun my
journey with Plato...
but hey presto... miracles happen...
and what stood out: immediately...
a correlation between Heidegger and Aristotle...
question-worthiness becomes an answer of worthiness-per-se...

what begun as an arithmetic of counting
the camel's humps...
like they might be dunes of the Arabian desert
or the raised Alps...
i wonder...
date an older woman: with child...
send the child a parediloia riddle
then get accussed of sending a ******* picture...
and there i was... about to sacrifice
my earnings and tickle of a few more years
on walking on eggshells...
i can be accussed of ****** and of thievary...
but... i can't be accussed of ******* or of ****...
sorry... that's where my love grows numb...
i can no longer love
i am numb with logic and reason...
i will turn to Aristotle concerning the
man of worth and the egoist...
because the man of worth will only be egoistic
concerning moral beauty...
because morality is a beauty unlike anything
stressed by aesthetic...
morality is a trans- (translation) of the arts...
morality undermines art:
or so it should:
call me a murderer or a thief:
but don't call me a ****** charlatan of deviance!
don't jest with asexual reproductive tactics
then start calling it: intact egoism!
egoism is born from both sexes
given that the ego is sexless!
but insinuate that i am more a ******* than a murderer
and you will feed my: wrath...

samolub: egoist...
   man of worth...            who feeds off the privy of power
and wealth... philosophers as surrogate fathers and mothers
to their eldest children...
no... i don't need a psychiatrist to prescribe me
blue pills, black pills, red pills...
i just need a philosophy book and some time
alone and knowing that the time i spent
i was bothered about high brow literature like
a Nobel prize matters when it's not dynamite...

now comes the wrath in writing
because my heart has grown numb from the accusation:
it must be a H'american thing...
i asked AI the dynamic of getting a greed card visa:
sexed up...
works fine if you are an American gent
importing a Thai queen progress...
but reverse that...
i can't imagine sitting on my *** for half a year
until i might get a permit to work...

then again: let's be honest:
beside the fact that i told her:
there is no better brothel... there are no better prostitutes
than in the church of the Savior...
but to be accussed of sending a teenage girl
a picture of my *******?
come on...               there's paranoia and there's
absurdity...
   so philosophy books exist to cling to like
a drowning man might cling to a razor blade...
i don't need a psychiatrist to talk **** over
and to be presribed anti-metabolic pills to fatten
me up...
     plus all the red flags... all her previous boyfriends
were the problem: she wasn't...
if i get accussed of said X...
who is to say i won't be accussed of unsaid Y?

σπoυδαιoς (human of worth)
               is not an egoist (φιλαυτoς)....

                 spoudaios... philautos...

            that's settled: the "ego" in my stomach
overruled the "ego" in my mind and most
importantly the *******-ego of everywhere
that's alias to my body-extremity...

                    i needed the bait... i found the bait...
then i needed the opposite party to trip up
and take the bait...
which would absolve me from feeling guilty
of leaving my elderly parents to fend for themselves:
with only the promise of the greatest *** imaginable
i could hone in on a diet of
just pure wanking
and be content with that...
because the idea of slobbering on a ****
that would be only recreational rather than give privy
to my fatherhood...
well... should you find yourself in a similar situation
with an older woman:
how modern this all is...
fancy how far feminism has come
to ensure that age is only a number
so the medieval times are like the 1960s
in terms of attitutdes toward affairs of the heart
and there was never a period in time
when heretical mouths were not given the slither
of the stiches to shut them up...

i can be accussed of being a murderer...
a thief...
but a pedohpile or a ******?
         you don't get away with that sort of accussation:
i am numbed out of loving her
we invested so much time in discussing
paraidolia that it stunned me:
stunted me: i became a dwarf and a castrato at the same
time...
            
         i don't have time for that sort of ****...
if being alone is my fate:
at least i'll have philosophy books to mind
and none of that housewife *******
of floral arrangements and seeing young Reyla
being disgruntled at a nativity play for the school
not playing the lead role of Joseph that
cuck...

             i hate Christmas i hated Christ the moment
i heard the mantra of: turn the other cheeck...
when oculus per oculus (eye for an eye)
was seemingly erased from our natural ontology...
i hate "christ" on a personal level...
i love the church for how well it organises people...
i just hate "christ": cosmopolitan this ******* figurine
this slaughter piece standard to conquer the north...
while these ****** ****- go lampooing their desert whims
of wisdom like bogus hocus pocus...

**** these desert ******* these camel jockeys...
i've reached a clarity levelling that's
beyond my concern for whatever humpty-dumpty politco
dynamic is left available:
if my ancestors lived through **** Germany
and Soviet Russia: a people desperately willing
with so few quid... you think these Arabs
with their ******* easy money thrill me to scare me?!
really?!
               i'm waiting for martydom.
DCLXVI
so if i were to... introduce a writing system:
that the Hebrews use
in terms of hiding vowels
as if they would be later exposed as
diacritical indicators
i could, technically: conjure up a noun
for something or someone...
conjuring whatever vowel at my whim
in between these: "consonants"
i could technically scribble
something akin to:
D(aeiou)
   C (eioua)
L (iouae)
   X (ouaei)
      V (uaeio)
            and by I i'm out of combinations
because the locksmith called in sick
and there's this... dyslexic understudy:
some poor schmuck who thinks he might become
an actor etc. etc.
but who said: or: who is to say:
that the vowels are in correct order:
see religion gave us so much
rigid authenticity to abstract and then correlate
that abstract into a feast of objects willing
to be maniable under our omnipotent thumb
of pressured justices...

i sometimes like to have these bouts of
playing the starving artist:
i fast while still drinking for a day or two
and then the hunger becomes like the most potent
juice of hallucinogenics
intoxicating me: giving me focus...
and then i just allow "god's" spirit:
to revel in it...
if...

         if it weren't from my inability to be circumcised:
i tried explaining this phenomenon to
an American girl who had nothing but
circumcised ****...
because along with the Hebs and Harabs and
the H'Americaña: y supposedly also why...
but the glaring fact that "god" is no longer obvious
but some evil strategy of letters people tend to
avoid... blink out blind out on...

my best bet is... Moses wasn't circumcised...
and that's how far back the story goes:
so circumcising males is o.k.
but circumcising females is frowned upon?
how unoriginal is this "original" sin?
as "original" as the current cultural calamity
of communism not being in the hands of
either the Slavic or Chinese people?
these pink-haired bureucrat feminists?
these i don't need a man
but at least three ******?

tell me if i'm wrong: and i can't be circumcised
because i have two protruding veins
in and around my ******* so that
would imply bleeding dead to dry or dry to dead:
but if circumcision was somehow turned
into a rite of passage...
say... you circumcise a man...
like you might do all the other rituals concerning
a woman... upon her sacrificial poise and
hypocrisy...
****** and death both adorn white...
then yeah: it makes sense:
to circumcise a man in a prenupital agreement...
Moses couldn't allow these people
to shake of their practice: nor could Jesus...
shake off... shake off...

         Taylor: ooh shake it off shake it off ooh ooh:
traffic police: beep beep!

oh but i heard worse stories not told
by the en masse history society approval:
like the Holocaust was one thing
pretending to work as a sadistic ploy was one thing
but then the Polacks who actually worked
and there was no sadistic choke joke invoked
like they actually were needed to work
digging tunnels:
it wasn't just slave labour:
it was a constructive genocide...

but imagine if circumcision was a rite of passage:
like the nomads the Polynesians became
by only this rite of passage will you get
****** tattoos... etc.
imagine if Moses was able to rid these people
of that ancient scribble of aesthetic
and forgive them for their aesthetic is ascetic...
well: if not Moses
then certainly not Jesus
could bring these people to dissolve
their spontaneous inbreed justification
for circumcicing males but frowning upon
the Egyptian circumcicion of females...

as i explained to my better half:
see... the problem with a circumcised ****...
it's blind to aim...
plus when all the women worship
******* in the shower
and circumcicised men focus on said
women choosing ******* parterns:
because you make man devoid of deriving pleasure
the natural pleasure from *******:
and where: do you think that was derived from?
******* is natural...
circumcision: ******* isn't! you get that?!
how about i chew off my thumb
how about i chew off my lips and my nose and my ears?!
if Moses couldn't do it:
Jesus was punished for it:
i'm not going to repeat it a third ******* time:
circumcising males is the "original" sin...
for whatever aesthetic reasons:
******* is natural
and the ******* allows for channeling ***
without ***... maybe that's why ******* was
born:
like a carrot and stick on those poor donkey-kong-*****
just needing to ****...

plus it's a concern for hygiene:
i do have an allowance
to peel the ******* back and enjoy ***
with a choke mode turning my hands
and head all bishop purple...
but when you start ******* without *******
it's almost like having needles shoved
up your shaft...
at least ******* with *******
you can aim
while most of these half baked Arab *****
end up ******* on the ******* toilet seat!
and what am i supposed to do?
sit in their ****?!        n'ah mate: n'ah n'ah...
my only "beef" ant "anti-semitism" is
with circumcision...
i can't be circumcised i wish i could be
but only as a rite of passage of from boy to man
and thus belonging to a woman:
then: only then: will i be able to don
a wedding ring:
she can fry that ******* prompt like
she might an onion ring: i don't care:
but not when you have men who didn't
ask to be circumcised being circumcised
and then you wonder:
so paedophilia is not o.k.:
but transgender
gender re-assingment surgery is... ******* o.k.?!

i was actually going to write about
the genius of Harry Beck and the London tube map
and how it represents a cone to me...
how myopic it is:
because London per se: is so small...
you have the inner detail of the circle line...
and what's the distance on the Piccadily Line
between Holborn
Covent Garden and Leicester Sq
and what is the Essex loop like?
so the map begins big: even thought the distances are
small... then the distances get big
but the drawings of the distances becomes smaller and smaller
because there's no significance invoked...

i'm sorry Jew: the Mongol and the Turkmen
and the Russians will agree with me:
your practice of circumcision
i don't care how much you gesticulate with your
teff and yaff
and all the monstrosity of the genitals of
pederasts:
                          i will make sure i will defend my people
even though i have a fetish for German
and perhaps the people certainly the music
i don't care...
you made these crazy rich Ahabs and Arabs and
Canada this most civilian authority of
the measure of speech...
i just don't want to live among circumcised males
who have bad aim at a toilet seat
became they have been mained...
  
   pull out my toenails and then ask me
for a ballerinas' dance... how's that?
Jesus wasn't a Jew: at best he was an Assyrian
or at worst given the artrifacts of
archeology an Egyptian...
              why blame the Jews for asking for
a non-Jew to be killed?!

demons are summoned:
         Decalxuv...
                           but that's the genius of
the London Underground map...
the focus is on the centre:
all exterior arenas of station diminish...
  the Star of David emerges:
like otherwise:
            Δ                and             ∇
delta and nabla:
and their mother: sigma:  Σ
                    σ (δ serpent) ς (ą)
there were actually more vowels than English allowed...

if you could measure where Liverpool St starts
and where: some other station ends...
i'd love to measure the sq mile
then the outer regions of the network...

original sin:
i can't be blame(d) for ****
for the Egyptian Moses
and the Assyrian Jesus
and third time lucky:
stop circumcicing your males
and giving females all these
unfair allowances...

— The End —