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Corey Carson Jun 2014
I am not the person everyone seems to think I am, I'm not going to lay down and let someone kick me. I am stronger than that, I will climb back to the peek that I was thrown from. I'm not the one who you are going to use and kick to the curb.
I'm smart. I know what decisions I should make and I shouldn't. I know that there afre things that could drag me down and kick the **** out of me. But I need to be trusted that I am smart enough to make the smart choice.
I'm stubborn. Don't tell me what I can't do because I will drag you down to the pits of hell while trying to prove you wrong.

I am a procrastinator. I will hella procrastinate, until it is eating away at me and making me feel sick because I knew that I should have already started it. I will sit there every day, repeating to myself and others 'I need to start that' but never being able to drag myself up.






I am quick. Though it may take me until the night before to start an assignment, I will throw that thing out there with full force the next day. Ready to share. Ready to pour myself onto a page that flows like milk from my lips.

What have a learned about myself this year? I learned who I can be, Strong, stubborn, Smart, Quick, and a procrastinator. Who I wont let control me. Because I am my own person, and I wont be held back again.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2020
not much needs to be written these days,
i hardly ask to peer at the face
of god:
what, with all these full bodied
chinese ideograms or ancient egyptian
hieroglyphs - strenuous like
impromptu hindenburg explosions...
at least with these latin letters:
well: the hebrew revision -
skeletons... endless row of skeletons...
shackles of bone...
i never promised myself this...
but... upon seeing an open coffin
in the morgue: the detail beside walking
around town putting up necrolog posters...
the bureaucratic detail in
what culminates in the whole:
well attired in princey navy jacket...
cuffs and: remembering how to tie:
a tie...
the generic mass at a funeral:
family secrets... oh the bogus lot of:
an unhappy marriage...
only somehow saved by the prefix grand-
some ever summer for several years
from the womb of the daughter...
this unhappy marriage...
only 3 months ago:
i could see the eyes of resignation...
perhaps cancer finally matched up to:
his willingness to let go...
i'm writing this to justify his unwillingness
to live: after all... rosy whenever i
visited him: otherwise purgatory:
skinning of pigs for shoes...
a grandmother's tongue like a sting of a wasp...
it was not for anyone to live:
no wonder he recounted: he decided to
escape into memory...
and it wasn't like upon death:
all of life flashes before your eyes:
once you age and service up half a dozen
years, months, weeks and countless days:
an eternity of hours...
memory become cinema...
i've seen it myself...
to play the cameo...
            but i can't imagine
being married to someone who might
wish me dead or:
that i might die like a dog dies:
in my native tongue: zdechnąć...
which refers to animals...
people: people have the capacity (rather than
the potential) to... umrzeć..
to die like an animal is to
heave the last breath without
the ease of possessing a differential
sigma of all part concerned that
tells any naked eye the difference
between
an animate and an inanimate object...
well... further along...
that's a bad joke...
since most of the time...
something animate doesn't
necessarily have to become subjected
to our observation: filtering the amassing
grey fudge of pedestrians:
which is less... even though animate...
than the inanimate mountain...
then again... the earth is static by
illusion... suddenly broken
by the wind... hurried disillusionment
by a hurricane... hey presto!
i'm standing on a "levitating" orb...
- i promised something...  
ah... identifying a corpse in an open coffin
in a morgue before the funeral...
biting-the-quill-procedures of death:
death... i have to let you know...
is very well organised...
it's very bureaucratic...
hell for all it's insomniac democracy:
"veto"...
it's... impossible to suffer childish fears
when walking through a graveyard...
hours shy post the burial
i sat by the grave like a dutiful
dog and teased my eye with a candle
while burning the ridges of plastic
into a cascade of all things hot, molten...
- my new found source of "debate"?
not finishing a cigarette...
smoking... half of it...
extinguishing it... half an hour later...
with the filter already soaking wet
with wet nicotine from all my drags...
new found pleasure...
it's a ******* mirage:
the idea that there are inanimate
objects at hand for the eye to admire
and meditate on...
a mountain in all its grandiosity...
yes yes... esp. when slap-sticked to
a... magician'******that:
the tetragrammaton has a daughter:
who he calls the annum...
HH: for summer and winter: chiral entities...
Y for spring... W for autumn...
why that is so...
Nero could have told you...
my lyre! my liar! rome is afloat!
the waves are ablaze!
this english tongue would not be
recognised by either greeks or the romans!
yet i'm using the lettering
of qua quixote: qua ape borgia...
pope!         pope!
are all the protestant sovereigns rich?
guess it comes to quest with a question:
the catholic rich ****** of france or
spain... who are the pauper catholics?
by all means: i know all the orthodox
castratos are: grecian and challenging:
take turns concerning either Malta
or Cyprus...
- here's to! here's to not getting my "mojo"
back concerning writing:
it's not like there's a horizon of
a stephen king worth for me to play
jester with... it's not like i'm some clive barker
who explored narratives
and character studies in h'amsterdam's
underground play-toy-play-t'ing...
rubber ole! studding with nails
and a fetish for leather...
while having sioux...
kneecap fold at the elbow:
wave goo'-bye!
             none of that... no...
             meat 'n' tow veg unfathomable...
like testing the vernacular of
testicles of... five men, all blind...
and a whale to make jokes concerning
an elephant...
- now i am extending my "privy"...
i am making myself welcome by ****
and wilt alone...
i am playing solitaire and i am rearranging
chess and dominos of letters:
but all these fattenings that come back
to bite phonetic enclosures
of chinese ideograms and egyptian
hieroglyphics... bloat in my face like
sprouts of mushroom growth
and bulging pockets of **** of gangrene
and sickly sweet acne...
- you know... i expected any other
play on a hiatus... i see old people walk
around and i'm like: coming on 81...
bragging about pushing 120...
when i came back from the funeral
i felt a sense of relief...
there's the concept of the mother-tongue...
as the very central european concept
of the fatherland...
it's not german...
hardly... concerning that he died
a philosopher: i.e. married to an abomination
of a woman...
i'll sooner gamble on horses!
or... how i will have to stand alone...
or walk into the north sea one
day and drown... or head to the civilisation
crown of humanity's deity: the switz land
or the benelux and spend my last
halving of paper with
tsar nicholas II imprinted on it...
for a dosage of euthanasia...

let the africans and the arabs come...
i am tired of having to jest
not suffering from bouts of
lethargy... let them i don't mind...
i'm of the mind concerning the belief
in shadows and in volcanoes...
the larva of the lava needs new:
sprouts!
copper-skinned "i" and R: further! US!
but not from this boring set of
stale ideas!

- a grandfather died: sorry... was i supposed
to be more... more estranged from
the concept of family?!
grandfather is pushing it?
but that Poland has reached
a mythological status entry for past...
hell... England is on par...
concerning Ilford... Gants Hill...
Barkingside... and sooner or later...
Romford...
white-flight... well no **** sherlock!
we're not going to fit onto
the Faroe Islands like a bunch
of hiding oysters!

- again... was this at all offensive
or am i just too grief stricken to mind
the already apolitical "political correctness"
sort of ******* that's reserved
for the retards that: will hardly
envision actual bridges and actual rivers...
no... "society"... is their... ******* disneyland
of concerns!

money is a social construct...
pay 'em in either pebbles or peanuts!
how else?!
- and what of still stalling of bulging
"anger" from a "erectile dysfunction":
glad you asked...
i... simply don't know...
why it works a charm with prostitutes...
but... fails... whenever i have to
date someone from
a mythos of the 1950s: bidding for a
housewife... thank you...
i can... or rather: i much prefer
to cook for myself...
i need no **** or **** in that department...

- because it's that nagging sensation
surround: only recently the parisian police
burned another migrant camp...
not in calais...
in some underpass...
i was in Paris circa 2004 - 2007 and
it was that city of Hemingway et al.,
now... it's the city where
there's a mausoleum of a bonaparte...
if that...
in a sunday newspaper magazine
a book review concerning Idi Amin...
attempted to portray him
in good faith... turns out!
****** gassed... Idi Amin performed
miraculous surgery...

- believe it or now: i'm on my way out...
thank **** and god to boot for
having inherited such fuckery of
grandmothers... and paternal... blah blah...
synchronised fuckery of a Tolstoy's
Anna Karenina opening - with the world
as a whole...
and i... poor ****-wit...
a cameo narrative-ist...

- in this tongue alone: "borrowed":
lent, acquired... why should "i"...
the dumb polacks were graced with a pope?
as instrument... let my fellow countrymen
gloat in a darkness of: that's already
easily manipulated...
saint my *** on a peddle-stool!
- what do i owe... "europe":
exactly what it owes me...
privy to the image of... salvaging...
tank-tops and ******...
even when it was grizzly ritzy and **** on
you:
the same foundation:
how plagued could we have become...
gorging on the same load of
masochism yet feeling no inclination
for: the colonial adventures that
landed "us" on the moon...

how there is a past for some...
but not for others: "my" people ought to
regress to the grievances bestowed
to them by the teutonic knights: failed 4th crusade...
the mongols, the swedes concerning
the deluge...
the ottomans... the ukranian nationalists...
oh.. "multicultural" society... "worked"...
in the polish-lithuanian commonwealth:
so well that what was required
was a foreign king...

i too... own... my body my land...
mythological as it might still be:
leaving school i do know how to dictate
the last of the anglo--saxon king's "whereabouts"
in history... the angevin empire...
the normie 'orms... and europe
can go **** itself...

           why? grief bespoke... i'm on
an "angry" hiatus...
  i write skeletons of letters and i'm peering
at the house of god...
all that's missing is what's hidden in 'ebrew...
i.e. the niqab vowels...
which would make words arrive
back at a reading:
LK S...
        S Y MGHT S
   like so
so you might see...
               - charles dickens called it
orthography... i just call it bad spelling...
i would call it orthography if...
english entertained the concept and use of
diacritical markers...
i.e. ó vs. u...
               does... english (as a language)
even bother to... no... it doesn't...
matter desiring to dictate: ******* stark naked...
a CH from a SH otherwise
hiding the foot of the tetragrammaton
in a caron, i.e. Č or Š...
oh... right... still pandering to the cannibals
of the pacific isles...
- what the **** are we... philandering
as: fiddlin with: as... escapee ******* / tattoo?!
it's not "orthography": mr. dickness...
it's either bad spelling or outright dyslexia...

orthography implores the application of
diacritical markers...
the russians: employ them...
however subtle...
so subtle... but english doesn't permit
an entire letter to be fathomable...
for a compound...
Ч (Č) - CH - you hide the heb' god...
no? no... you expose 'im... no?

    Ш (Š) - SH... oi 'rew! 'rew! i find the wind...
caressing... the Faroe isles most inviting:
i was so very close to the concept
of how...
                  ш + ц ≠ щ
   given ч... i might have wished...

- here;s too giving myself to too much greek
or the hebrew counter: these letters...
the new testament...
here's to europe: yur-op!
my pondering a  burning of a scarf:
the summoning of a wind...
the necropolis hybrid... a skinning
of a... believe them greeks,
believe them hebrews:
sooner or later they become ottomans...
whether asked or being in want...

- such that the closet of your kin leave you
being hindered...
and that all: that remains...
is a **** flinging fest of lobotomy creasure...
you take your pick: whether i've
disused or under achieved
usage of a certain: verbiage - attache...
told the point... the laughing dolphin...
when "arrayed" with a display of
a butterfly's quest...
as one: ibn: might be left demanding:
no camel jockey who afre you...
no yacht... a dolphin giggling...
flapping at makeshift:
feathers...

           i cleave to... a hybrid...
what has to become the genius
of BARR... **** it... capital lettering...
the IRN BRU sod...
the 18--... fuckety-fuckety...
    history impromptu!

hello comparisons BARR "conctra"
KRUPPS...

such that i might drink: h'american
ice-cream / cream soda...
all of that jingle...
bubble-gum what's-not-to-like?!
all the synthetic soda-creamed-up
pie...
all that curated...
bukakke and gloryhole...
and **** on me **** on you,..

- so who's left... *******, pretend one is...
smiling?!
nairobi ping-pong quest old german
boring toothache too?!

i sorta think i've served a purpose...
if it wasn't enough:
well? then i can become most hurried and
harried in giving all the necessary
exaltations...
w.d.y.f.o.
  in acronyms and in a slapping
of hands by the deaf i learned from my youth
in a country i was last felt welcome in.

but please! go on! do... your... ****-most with!
keeping your most similar least involved!
to hell with you!
to hell with you!
i can't sacrifice imploring...
your already disguised hyper-tensioned
phrase for keeping up with
demands for tourism:
your nay bother... you ******* deaf-counter-quip
of a ******* fidget of a forgotten use
of a whip!

strap them to an island,
arm them with a gimp's shame...
yet still they persist in their...
monolingual plebiscite!
the afghan peoples of the ancient world...
no wonder! "afghans"...
that they are.. stubborn
integral follow up to how the french
also didn't.

— The End —