hand slaps shoulder knee rhythmically that’s called hamming the bone sitting on a street curb singing making up lyrics i got a transitor sister loves cossack named jake he rides Cherokee chopper all he’s ever known is hate he’s going down underground where a man can be a man wrestle alligators live off the land ebb flow i don’t know racing chasing hair-pin turning at 150 miles per hour downshift to 3rd spread the word sweet sour naked flower touching skin deep within defies all sin with a grin speed speed speed all i need i’m getting off coming on you tawny scrawny bow-legged pigeon-toed knock-kneed Don Juan Ponce de Leon Aly Khan all wrapped up into one going to have ******* good time good time tonight i feel like an orphan mom and dad seem so far away tonight i feel like an orphan you make me feel this way hand slaps shoulder knee rhythmically hand bone hand bone

Odyseuss drifts job to job construction worker office assistant waiter whatever he does not understand how road to recognition works continues showing portfolio to art dealers but they react indifferently he does not know how to attain notice in art world begins to suspect there is no god watching over souls instead he imagines infinite force juggling light darkness creation destruction love hate Mom and Dad insist he can earn respectable income if only he will learn commodity futures like cousin Chris Mom says you can work down at the exchange and paint on the side a part of Odysseus wants desperately to please his parents he considers perhaps Mom is right for the time being maybe build up nest egg it seems like sensible plan he wonders why Dad and Mom never speak about money how to save manage they treat the subject as forbidden topic Odysseus has no idea what Dad or Mom earn or investment strategies Odysseus is about to make serious mistake the decision to get job working at commodity exchange needs deeper examination why is he giving in to his parents what attracts him to commodities trading is it Chris’s achievement and the money? does Odysseus honestly see himself as a winning trader or does it simply look like big party with lots of rich men pretty young girls is that where he wants to be why is he giving up on his dream to be a great artist does it seem too impossible to reach who makes him think that? is he going to give up on his true self? he halfheartedly follows his parent’s advice begins working as runner at Chicago Mercantile Exchange several friends including Calexpress disloyalty for entering straight world commodity markets are not exactly straight in 1978 clearing firms pay adequately hours are 8 AM to 2 PM over course of next 6 months Odysseus runs orders out to various trading pits cousin Chris rarely acknowledges Odysseus maybe Chris feels need to protect his image of success perhaps in front of his business associates Chris is embarrassed by Odysseus’s menial rank and goof-off attitude maybe Chris senses what a terrible mistake Odysseus has made

Chicago suffers harsh winter in February Roman Polanski skips bail in California flees to France in April President Carter postpones production of neutron bomb which kills people with radiation leaving buildings intact in October Yankees win World Series defeating Dodgers in November Jim Jones leads mass-****** suicide killing 918 people in Jonestown Guyana in December in San Francisco Dianne Feinstein succeeds murdered Mayor George Moscone in Chicago John Wayne Gacy is arrested

darkness descends upon Odysseus his heart is not into commodity business more accurately he hates it he loathes battleship gray color of greed envy he resents prevailing overcast of misogyny he meets many pretty girls yet most of them are only interested in catching a trader it is rumored numerous high rolling traders hire young girls for sole purpose of morning ******* remainder of day girls are free to mingle run trivial errands commodity traders typically trash females it is primitive hierarchy Odysseus bounces from one clearing firm to another then moves to Chicago Options Exchange then Chicago Board of Trade on foyer wall just outside trading floor hangs bronze plaque commemorating all men who served in World War 2 Uncle Karl’s name is on that plaque Daddy Pat bought his son seat hoping to set him up after war Uncle Karl’s new wife wanted to break away from Chicago persuaded him to sell seat move to California Uncle Karl bought car wash outside Los Angeles with Daddy Pat’s support Mom and Dad encourage assure Odysseus commodities business is right choice they promise to buy him full seat on exchange if he continues to learn markets they feel certain he can be saved from his artistic notions the markets are soaring in profits cousin Chris is riding waves a number of Chris’s friends are sons of parents who belong to same clubs dine at same restaurants as Mom and Dad Odysseus is not alpha-male like Chris Odysseus is a dreamer painter poet writer explorer experimenter unlike Chris who has connections Odysseus starts out as runner then gets job holding deck for yuppie brokers in Treasury Dollar trading pit Odysseus holds buy orders between index and middle fingers sell orders in last 2 fingers arranged by time stamp price size in other hand holds nervous pencil he stands step below boss in circular pit in room size of football field full of raised pits everything is traded cattle hogs pork bellies all currencies gold numbers flash change instantaneously in columns on three high walls fourth wall is glass with seats behind for spectators thousands of people rush around delivering orders on telephones flashing hand signals shouting offers quantities every moment every day calls come in frantically from all around world space is organized chaos sometimes not so organized fortunes switch hands in nano-seconds it is global fiscal battleground rallies to up side or breaks to down side send room into hollering pushing shoving hysteria central banks financial institutions kingpin mobsters with political clout daring entrepreneurs old thieves suburban rich kids beautiful people pretty young females abound big guns **** in same air stand next to low-ranking runners everyone flirts sweats sneezes knows inside they are each expendable Odysseus is spellbound by sheer force magnitude he feels immaterial only grip is his success with girls it is not conscious talent he grins girls grin back Chris’s trader friends recognize Odysseus’s ability they push him to introduce girls to them it is way for Odysseus to level playing field he has no money or high opinion of himself he simply knows how to hook up with girls

1979 January Steelers defeat Cowboys at Super Bowl Brenda Ann Spencer kills 2 faculty wounds 8 students responds to incident “i don't like Mondays” in February Khomeini seizes power in Iran in March Voyager space-probe photographs Jupiter’s rings a nuclear power plant accident occurs at Three Mile Island Pennsylvania in May Margaret Thatcher is elected Prime Minister in England in Chicago American Airlines flight 191 crashes killing 273 people in November Iran hostage crisis begins 90 hostages 53 of whom are American in December Soviet Union invades Afghanistan 1980 in November Ronald Reagan defeats Jimmy Carter one year since Iran hostage crisis began

he meets good-looking younger girl named Monica on subway heading home from work he has seen her running orders on trading floor she is tall slender with long dark brown hair in ponytail pointed nose wide mouth innocent face she confides her estranged father is famous Chicago mobster Odysseus recognizes his name they talk about how much they dislike markets arrant disparity of wealth between traders and themselves Odysseus says i hate feeling of being so disposable worthless Monica replies yeah me too he tells her if i was a girl i’d ******* myself to several handsome generous traders Monica acknowledges that’s an interesting idea but who? how? which traders? do you know? he answers yeah i know exactly who and how Monica says if you’re serious i’m in i have a girlfriend named Larissa who might also be interested i’ll call Larissa tonight following day Monica approaches Odysseus at work agrees to meet at his place after markets close that afternoon Monica and Larissa show up eager to learn more about Odysseus’s scheme Larissa is petite built like a gymnast giggly light brown hair younger than Monica he lays it all out for them cousin Chris and his buddies the money ******* both girls are quite lovely he suggests they rehearse with him he will coach them on situations settings techniques girls consent for 4 weeks every afternoon they meet at Odysseus’s place get naked play out different scenarios he shows girls how to pose demure at first then display themselves skillfully fingers delicately pulling open ***** spreading wide apart buns working hidden muscles he directs each to take up numerous positions tasks techniques then has them switch places he teaches them timing starting slow gradually building up rhythms stirring into passionate frenzy having two mouths four hands creates novel sets of possibilities one girl attends his front while other excites his rear he positions them side-by-side so he can penetrate any of all four holes he stacks them one on top of the other many other variations after reaching ****** several times making sure to reciprocally satisfy their eager needs Odysseus dismisses girls until following day finally after month of practice Monica and Larissa feel confident proficient primed Odysseus arranges for girls to meet with 2 traders through Chris most traders have nicknames Twist who is hosting event is notoriously wild insatiable on opening night Odysseus behaves like concerned father Larissa and Monica each bring several dresses and pairs of shoes Odysseus helps them choose suggests Monica ease up on make-up he styles Larissa’s hair instructs Monica to call him when they arrive again when they leave he requests they return directly to his place Monica wears hair pulled back in French twist pearl earrings sleek little black dress black stiletto heels she stands several inches above Odysseus Larissa wears braided pigtails pink low-scooped leotard brown plaid wool kilt just above knees brown suede cowboy boots he kisses each on lips then pats their butts warns them to be careful mindful Monica winks Larissa giggles more than an hour passes as Odysseus sits wondering why he has not heard from girls suddenly reality hits he does not want to be commodities trader and certainly not a **** this is not how he wants to be known or remembered Odysseus wants to be a painter and writer Monica and Larissa are good sweet girls whom he has misguided he calls Twist’s place Twist answers Odysseus asks to speak with Monica when she comes to phone he questions are you all right Monica answers yes we’re fine we’re having a fantastic time why are you calling what’s wrong he explains you were suppose to call me when you arrived i began to worry i think maybe this whole arrangement is a bad idea i want you to call it off and come back home i don’t want either of you to become prostitutes i love you both and don’t want to be associated with dishonoring you Monica says it’s a little late to call it off but we’ll see you when we’re done kissy kiss bye Odys another hour passes then another he frets wondering what they are doing after 4 hours as he is about to call Twist’s house again doorbell rings Monica and Larissa both giggling beaming Odysseus can spot they have a coke buzz Monica announces you should be proud of us Odys we got each of them off 2 times we left them stone-numb and tapped out the girls open their purses each slaps 5 hundred dollar bills unto table Monica says this is your cut Odys we both got a thousand for ourselves he replies i can’t touch that money we need to sit down and talk Monica demands no talking Odys take off your clothes he insists i’m serious Monica i’m never going to send you out again Larissa claims there’s no turning back for me i had too much fun Monica  pleads come on Odys we’ll be good we promise now take off your clothes Twist and his buddy never attended to our needs i’m ***** as hell Larissa where’s that little bottle of dust Twisty handed you

Chicago Monday night December 8 1980 Cal and Odysseus sit at North End they're on 4th round feeling buzz the place is lively adorned with holiday decorations Cal says you’ve changed Odysseus questions what do you mean? how? Cal says the commodity markets and your cousin and his friends they’ve changed you when was the last time you painted Odys? are you dealing coke Odysseus looks Cal in the eyes answers they’re so ******* rich Cal you can’t believe it one drives a black Corvette Stingray another a ******* Delorean anything they want they buy girls cars clothes condos boats yeah i’m dealing coke to Chris’s friends it’s my only leverage remember the Columbian dude Armando we met at tittie bar? i score from him and keep it clean Chris’s buddies pay up for the quality i don’t remember my last painting maybe the black painting i never finished after breaking up with Reiko Lee a girl falls off bar stool crashing to floor at other end of bar Cal says Odys, you better play it careful you’re messing with the devil got any blow on you suddenly bar grows quiet someone turns up TV volume they watch overhead as news anchorman speaks slow solemn camera pans splattered puddle of blood pieces of broken glass on steps to Dakota Building Cal looks to Odysseus John Lennon has been murdered Cal waits for Odysseus to say something tear rolls down cheek Cal glances away stares down at floor they drink in silence

Crackling. Rocking. Crackling. Creaking and oscillating, a century old **Mahogany Wood seceded to the paSsage of time.
Particles of sand, confounded by the Peninsula’s chaotic, blasting breeze now revealed a shade of burnt tar.
   Outside of the second floor Maissonette, sways the rocking chair once warmed by Grandpa.
A Tactless, impatient, rhythmic Requiem Bashes near the wiNdow pane as the sunset falls Under the frame.  
                                                        ­    Empty Folklore presides like the Residue of a once lambent effigy…                                               SwOosh. Hush!
           Cocktails were a Preamble to lunch like diabetes to Nephropathy.
Corrosive Rhetoric seeped in to expose the ego of a Sommelier.
     A smile would Parachute down when you needed it like Nicotine to remind that no Precedent had been set, just an Anomaly.
                     Cutthroat beginnings, this was no Analog man.
        In grade school his Cosmos found Zion and “The world to come”.
        This baby’s Cradle, abandoned High atop a mountain was blown by a Chinook towards the Atlantic.
                “I was found swallowed in a stained Table cloth by Balkan children on a treasure hunt, with no Guarantee and no resignatIon. "
                     The boTtle narrates these chronicles and a smile parachutes down when you need it like nicotine.
                                          Dionysus Crafted his accounts while most Garnered his spiels with Snide.                               As they witnessed dream remembrance; he thought his memory was Presumably accurate, and although his tales were triFling to the gathering audience, they became his Heliocentric history.
            Calling me a young Galleon and handing me a map, Grandpa scanned his hand across the vast land
       guaranteeing trEasure would be found if I had no resignation.
               This Asinine assertion to my teenage sister Symbolized the Barring of her unheeding imagination by time and then a smile parachuted down just when she needed it like nicotine.


_TRF

There is a song I like to sing when I am all alone,
It has no words.

As I sing,
My mind takes flight.

The melody is rare-aly my own.
N' This is how it goes.
On & on,

I'll sing all day and,
nights are spent alone.
I'll try to make myself better,
and someday,
I'll be known.

Do you know the song I sing?

Do you sing along?

When the darkness falls above;
I hear an echoing throng.

There is nothing, I'd like more than someone by my side,
No matter,
what I've tried my love has always died.

Do I do it wrong or right?
Was it all along?

If you keep me by your side,
I will run and hide?

Well I was on a roll again then my son burst out,
no matter what I'm thinking of-he chases it about.

Maybe,
I should think no more
Take it day by day.

When I think I'm doing good
I'm about to fall-
but who cares about that,
That is what I ask?

I can't have it all.
Just lil bits,
and widbitchets,

They mean nothing at all.

I've tried to base myself in you,
You wont be my friend.

Can we go?
Can we stay?

I don't know at all.

Words they come,
when paper touches pen...

i have three best friends.
one is Thomas.
they asked me to sing at his funeral
but i couldn't because i was crying too much.
he left his hat
and it smells of nothing but him.
two is Aly.
we carved boundless into a river bridge before
she moved to Liverpool. an actress with more *****
than anyone claiming masculinity.
it costs eight stamps to write her but i do
because i believe in handwritten letters the way most people
believe in church.
three is a read leather journal
with graph paper pages
crawling with the inked version of my
trainwreck brain
the words that i can bury myself under
and call it art.

under the dark of covers
promise me
promise me
promise me,whisper it
that leavings are not endings
and that if you love something

you tell it goodbye.

bring her an ensemble,
brioche and cafe au lait
'À la manière des Français'

an unexpected surprise,
on a weekend
Sunday-in-bed-celebration

the messenger, me,
recommends  le dunkin',
insertion of the bread into
the morning liqueur pre-sipping

"I don't like wet bread"

she states officially,
in tone strident and reproving,
even gravelly gravitas-aly,
and to me-self, inside thinking,
softee softee...

what other dark secrets doth this ***** harbor?

march 26 2017 10:11 am

GLOBAL WARMING?
IDK
BUT 2018 IS A KAT SUMMER


Unce tice, fee tines a mady
****, sorry,
eddie murphy buh-weet flashback....

Once or twice upon a time
  or perhaps
     just maybe
        almost what must be forever

there was a woman
she was WOW
she was WOAH, MAN
  she was MEOW

Sometimes She Believed It
  She'd Strut when it Fit
But could be there's Artist's Block
  and the Goddess don't Rock

Pain HURTS
  Betrayal be the WORST
Try to Fly unto Forever
  with a son-****-father

the ******* height
  ain't gonna be every single night
lead guitar **** star
  don't always play on Wednesday

but the current underneath
  the love lust deep deep within
is supposed to be decades in its belief
  i've seen old people kiss remembering sin

Eyes Afire for each other
  Their Love Still Alive
holding hands hotter
  than any hard fast drive

If you're not in,
  then into the kiln
plate your ***
  this ****** too shall pass

I remember when she was Queen of Beads
  a bracelet had me hummin
    an anklet I wanna be drummin
      a necklace almost satisfied my need...

I had recently learned to be Grateful
  but basically just to expand my Party
    and where I hoped it might take me

KMM was the reason I let the Dead into ME
  a Dead song heard thru her eyes
    was being caught Without A Net
      seeing thru the Eyes Of The World

You see Your Rose
  I saw Mine
You say you Noes
  I say She Fine

did I mention forever ACTUALLY MEANS forever
  and you have every right and reason to be bitter
if you say you gonna stay whatever the weather
  be a man
    if you possibly can
if not
  at least let her know
    uh yeah thanx buh-bye whatever

people think they know what up
  their truth be THE truth
pain be personal is what up
  that truth is THE truth

you'll Noe when you're fully healthy again
  when mind heart soul friends
say uh yeah it wasn't me
  so ******* **** I'm free

there was a Kathryn I met
  only Kathryn I've known as yet
20-ish years later we re-met
  and this won't rhyme with “et”
but I have now Loved FB 3 Times,
  Aly, Eric, Kat, and, um, rhymes

Kathryn Marie Maletich....not the 1st WOAHman I Loved, but the most WOAH I'd met as yet....She arrived at my house with my Sean telling me dude you'll dig her...pool table, beer, prob some misc, a late night in my suddenly electric backyard under the stars sitting talking about whatever and everything and what she could do with the insides of the washing machine which were currently occupying the back side wall of my parents' house, a Bday party with band at her house she invited me to and took flash pic in my face as she laughed and invited me to her garage room to hang out (nitrous, thy name is “Clint, you're in Kat's room, solo, laughing sharing phasing in and out of consciousness with bliss and I think I helped her Happy and I want to stay here!)  2 days later Sean asked me for you if I Liked you...oooohhhhhh Lady....me was broken boy, shy, no experience, ******, young but already shattered so many times, how could I possibly satisfy someone as Amazing as you. I said yeah as a friend cuz I had no idea how to just tell you WOW, your lips rule my dreams, can I share those dreams with you....Nope, said yeah as a friend and I was forever locked in that zone. Being Kat's Friend is not necessarily a bad thing. You and I shared so much, and I always felt like I knew more about you than the men you ******. We were REALLY close, and I was conflicted, cuz there was this dichotomy where you were both the replacement for the soul sister who hung herself out of my life just when I needed her more than ever and the 1st Love who chose the other she wanted less but was safer and her family approved of because he wasn't me. Kat, those yrs you knew me were really hard for me. I was NEVER not in pain, my ******* genius boy mind only not flinging images memories entire scenes actual physical sensations at me when I got wasted enough that I could scream them down. School was great when you can remember every bit of info automatically, but when my mind became my sister Carla's needles and Kristy's “your eyes are alive, your kiss is better, I want you more, but we can't go together where you're headed” I kinda went away..still above 4.22 grade-wise, little genius boy blah blah blah, but I was lost. I became a poet to survive it, but then you arrived. I was just kinda accepting 1st love was dead cuz I was a worthless druggie following my dead Sis as Kristy was excelling towards the Teacher we both wanted to be. I did all those drugs with Sean (however many hundreds of hits...a dozen in one night alone, ****.... of LSD I don't even Noe) and quarters of speed in one snort and then moving to smoking ounce after ounce of it. By the time we bid each other adieu I was finally ready to find out if I was going to just die or live on as at least semblance of the beautiful boy I once was. Cleaned myself up, returned to college, eventually got my degree from my San Jose State...you had lunch with a bona fide Bachelor of Science in Marine Biology with a Minor in Chemistry lol. Married twice...divorced, widowed. Worked corporate sales and then drug abuse treatment research (that actually felt really good) and some other blah yada then landed at Vons where I've been higher up than now but actually almost like where I'm at, lol, and the pay and benefits are good enough I can't leave, also lol.......of course I thought about you many times and other times and more (heck, you're part of one of my tats...not in a way you'd like, sorry), but I always figured you were gonna keep being great and Loving Life. Heard you and D made it official and thought it would work pretty fine. Blows my mind someone held you and let go. People are whack. L.M.M.H. (lolololol), I am REALLY glad you found my facebook with paul...Noe idea how much of each others' lives we'll be a part of, how often I'll actually hear you say Hello My Little Friend (don't get me started on that one heeheehee), but stoked is the word for Kat in my life....truly never thought I would look in your eyes again..it was wonderful to do so, Thanks be to You Milady....


some part of me will always be in that garage
  only place those days I almost believed I wasn't garbage
I just tried to survive the moments until the when
  Kat would arrive and re-invite me in again

not that boy anymore
  but you're still Kat for sure
I hope You Noe That
  You Are Still Where It's At

gonna preach
  gonna teach
    bout the things I see
      bout the things I Noe to BE

acoustic strings vibrating in tune with the moon
  kiss your **** like a lyricist linguist lover in june
however whenever you discover the start
  the drum beat can still hit your heart

please take me to your local dive bar
  I'll laugh with you my Diva Star
play darts with me
  and I'll IPA thee
bullseye wins the puddin pie

your art is still your life
  and your inner eye hath grown
so the universe is all right
  and I'm lucky to have known

about out of words for now
  HEY, I can hear that laughter from here
it does happen
  every now and again
     (for a millisecond or three)
so I'll bid thee adieu for now
  
it was the best of times
it was the blurst of times
******, stupid monkeys...I'm out

8:56 PM

Seein' faces which no longer exist,
an eerie army of them,
how have I known such death
and yet still draw breath
mayhap a few were my fault,
forever haunted shall I be
especially as none of them deserved it
and i'm still livin laughin dancing free
it's kinda hurtin in here
tho it's basically just whinin
btw, where's my ******* beer
or at least a bottle or three of whine
my mind only sits still if forced to
and that requires more than you
will ever Noe how to do
it's dancin dangerous circle cycles at the moment
not the bestest ever tour for this version of clint
visions videos vicious internal angst bleeding my psyche
introversion reversion is ******'ing me
this soup bowl hath been poisoned
and i ain't prepared for such pain
at last i'll have always have my marbles of blue
and my die which with Bob will always crush you :)
which kiss do you most miss
cuz I heave several on that list
some of whom I've never even tasted
but "maybe someday" is imagination unwasted
reset myself so many times
when is it too many times?
precious little keeping me here
and I'm not much in touch with fear
the **** it ******* Clint
is ******* his inner Clinton
*** on
let's blow this scene
...money shot...
….and...out...


10:31 PM

which noose can you not cut loose
what's the soul scar you can't uncarve
or are you like me...
no fav among the many
I don't like space shuttles
but I do love muggles
well, a few of them
a few more on a whim
are your dreams too often screams
do you shout racial epithets at yourself
are you an ex genius boy
or a gorgeous-brain girl
who's tired of this toy we call our world
I hate saying I hate
but I hate all kinda ****
I used to Love to Love
but i just don't be feelin it
my blue rose hath decayed
its romantic spirit been betrayed
somewhere sometime my luck
said it doesn't even wanna ****
so fornicate yourself world
this boy beyond bent at bein whirled
I AM the best ME this boy ever been
but I'm just still just a Clint to my Clinton
c'mon man, I get it
hahahaha
but can't you quit
you win, i'm blah
this joke is older than I am
yet you insist on the retell
what else do you want from me
do you think I haven't visited my home in hell
when I am Positive Patient Polite people are joyful in their interactions with me...the potential to be a genuinely impactful presence in a meaningful moment of their life which they will remember and subsequently relive with me, pulling me into their experience as one of the cruxes, is the reason I actually have smile wrinkles from work even tho much of it is soul draining torture...not triple P at the moment....
how many dead people do you Noe???
many of you more than I certainly.
did it begin early?
does it continue late?
I don't want to be Dead
but it is seriously a freakish occurrence that I'm not
the statistics don't support it
better purer truer souls have seen their bodies left to rot
I knew my brain was insane at 5 yrs old
when the people studying me
told me my Intelligence Quotient was BOOM
and I said I Noe
but I can't respect your opinion
cuz this is a junior college room
so *******, yo
(plus my sister siblings were all so off the chart genius that I had to read at least a book a day from Kindergarden until HS, when I read a book a day cuz I wanted to F U, just to keep up with my understanding of the world beyond our block...if you have never read The Phantom Tollbooth, you really should, and you should do so with your kids...and if they're not old enough for Harry Potter or Tolkien, then read to/with them the Ursula K. Le Guin Earthsea Trilogy)
ouch
there's not a band aid for me
ahhh ****
I thought I was beyond thee
what was once my smile
is now a grisly grin
a snarky sneer
anything to contain the pain.
I'm sorry if you're sad
it might not be that bad
I can be the bestest silliness you've ever sampled
just hold my bald head as your button gets tongue trampled
and, ummm, yeah.....


11:30 PM

can you shake it??
the voice which quakes you?
who was your 1st?
not your 1st ****
not even your 1st kiss
simply the 1st set of eyes
blue, brown, green, heterochromatic (ooooohh Aly)
or the 1st smile, lips
the 1st voice, laugh
the 1st statement from a mind
a spirit in kind
which drew you into within
made that one the again and again and again
Did you ever Breakfast at her Tiffany's??
and if not is it still a favorite fantasy??
shhhhhh,
do you feel that???
that's a kiln absolutely killn it,
the dolls all Princess Wavin at their Kat
I can't get away with such silly sentimentality,
she'd most likely just make me smack me
you can't ME OW the Kat
unless you put it in a Tat :)
Does it still matter?
Is it still the solo
on your soul guitar?
Or is it merely whatever
couldn't give less of a ****
but wish them the best of luck
Maybe she was the entire worth of your world
I've been there once or thrice or more
In which case you can still hear her whisper
and your heart hates you for not winning her
Now without her, again, whoever whatever
drifting falling, alone again, whatever wherever
and....midnight don't mess around
time to get some sleep...hopefully super sound

title: 4minutes
body: ~3:59.

i always tend to see things more clearly when i drink
a little... mind you... half an hour earlier
i was truly enjoying ironing shirts
while listening to today's full release of the new
Ghost album... Impera... **** me...
i even allowed myself to leave a comment
on the video: i rarely do...
i said something along the lines...
'the last time i enjoyed an album in its full
entirety, upon first listen...
jeez... it was Tool's Aenima or Nine Inch Nails'
the Fragile... this album is simply sublime'...
it really helps that i'm reading Sartre again...
and in English... it's such a wonderful muddle
of words... being-in-itself... itself-non-being...
appearance... object's essence... blah blah...
it's kind of like swimming in a pool of marbles...
or at least trying to... swim in a pool of marbles...
swimming on a sand-dune... more like...
                            i'm guessing French thought
translates really badly into English...
i mean... both languages are... littered with
prepositions and conjunctions... shrapnel...
             but... never mind if i understand it at first
reading... go with the flow: just smile and wave...
it's another variation of meditation... a narrative meditation...
which is sort of equivalent to: stream of consciousness...
same ****, different cover...
placed on the altar of Thesaurus Rex...
               mmm... if there's a chance of me seeing
signs of dementia: that's me... ******* off
to Amsterdam to buy some magic mushrooms...
get the psychedelic booster...
                  "jab"... bite...
                      not when my mind still glorifies
alcohol... weird... extremely weird...
so many people are *******... violence-prone
when drinking... cocky-little-*******...
             some are nice... i admit... but...
how many can think more clearly when drinking?
any-hoo... i'm going to finish this little doodle
and clean the house... before going on a 2h bicycle
ride...
   obviously before performing my ritualistic
100 push-ups... i touch my chest...
well... no woman could say i have ******* by now...
like they used to in the brothel...
when... eh... anti-psychotic drugs... overweight...
blah blah...
           not that seeing psychiatrists helped...
seeing prostitutes did...
                   and why would i see a priest?
psychiatrists attempted the subtle art of regression...
trying to implant false memories into my
head... well... it's not like i don't know how
to deal with a Frankenstein... no... not the monster...
the doctor... the double monster...
the inquisitive empirical: objective baboon...
the person with an autistic subjectivity capacity...
the feelz ******...
        there's no dichotomy between feeling
and thinking... they have to be entwined...
so one balances the other out... keeps it in check...
feelings can curb day-dream thinking with...
at best... an adrenaline focus... via...
unconscious-spatial-coordination... when minding
traffic... on a bicycle...
Nietzsche could have celebrated walking all
he might have... me? i need steam...
i need the feeling of generating momentum...
my own momentum... it's not enough to push your
foot down on a peddle...
well... there's also riding at a gallop's pace
on a horse... that comes close to cycling...
how do you get a horse to gallop?
  you press your heels into the horse's rib-cage...
pull in the reins... and off you go...
          - hmm... but the clarity of thought when
drinking... it has to be a dreary English afternoon...
sort of raining or... whatever this weather is
supposed to be...
                 the Jeminah Revelation...
right... what are my options? beside... younger women?
those inexperienced posers?
the ones that... when you get them in the bedroom
they lie... blank... mute... doe-eyed...
petrified by their own inexperience...
   i had one of these... oh she had *** a boyfriend...
blah blah... so... you know how foreplay works?
she didn't... you **** me off... i **** you off...
you **** me off off again... and then we ****...
   that didn't happen... she sort of expected me to
have a magic button connected to my phallus...
i switch it on... like the old school version of Bane...
and i get a *******... simply because:
i'm with a woman... and not... a ******* chicken Kiev...
what other food has holes?
a magic Duracell bunny battery-hard-on?
right... a walking *****, n'est c'est pas?
                           yeah... none of that... it started to feel
borderline necrophilia...
i can't be seen ******* a corpses that's also: "somehow"
blinking... so i asked her... can i just sleep here tonight...
she said yes... that's when i saw the absolute:
the petrified face of a girl that lied...
i pretended to be asleep... but she was wide awake...
looking at me with... fear...
well no... i didn't drug her, **** her...
she didn't understand the process...
first comes the arousal, then comes the ***...
i didn't feel like teaching her anything that night...
she played the game wrong... posed too much...
the "one that got away" ******* game...
            yeah... i have regrets... like the regret i have
for giving away a CD to my neighbour...
because i felt inclined to do so when he gave me
a pair of headphones... Lao Che's Gusła album...
and i spent... a long long time... looking for it...
*******... mind you... those headphones...
   i was standing at the edge of a wood... at night...
a massive clearing before me... a guy was walking his
dogs... pups... grown dogs...
ugly *******: personality wise...
he scolded those pups when they ran up to me
started licking me and... obviously pulled the headphones
off my head and trashed them...
why scold pups? why... not simply whistle... chill them...
but the Jeminah Revelation... that's something
else...
single mums or... prostitutes... i wouldn't date
or **** anything younger... just not my cup of tea...
they just pose... pose... pose...
   i'm not going to be the pervert that
disinhibits them... i want in on the already
disinhibited ***... the wholesome orthodox fun
where no exploration of the **** is invoked...
or ******* on any part of the body: over than in...
and not in the mouth...
                  jeez... Louise! n'ah ah...
                        so... Jeminah is a single mum...
and she has a young son...
   her last boyfriend... she met... on a school-run...
her last boyfriend... she's 39 now...
hmm... mighty arithmetic... she was in her 30s
when he was only 19...
                             he was dropping off his younger
brother... sister... whatever...
she even openly said: i only date much younger men
or much older men...
right... i'm sort of her contemporary...
4 years shy of her age... that's a biG a bIG a BIG
no no... she already proved that she can't handle
men her own age...
so she basically dated a boy who would be...
equivalent to... her son... having an older brother...
that's how it looked... from what she said...
for the boy to have all the fun...
my my... there's an army of Oedipal sons out there:
being raised by single mothers...
and... well... unconsciously... she's a single mum...
she's spending all that time with
her son... but no other male... a contemporary male...
****** bells are ringing!
    ****** bells are ringing!
               that's a lie... older men... dating her...
maybe when she wasn't a single mum...
when she was having all the fun in the corporate
world of finance...
            but now... if she's dating someone 19 years old...
and her son is... 11 now...
so yeah... she's basically having this unconscious
fantasy of ******* her own son... or rather...
the older brother of her son...
ah... it's started raining... there's nothing quiet
at exhilarating as cycling in the rains of March:
there's that perfect environment for having hardened
******* from the crisp cool of the air...
and the added moisture... my physique can truly
exfoliate... esp. after 100 push-ups...
- what have "we" done... me? i haven't done anything...
i'm looking down the barrel of a shotgun
that's a woman that's raising an Oedipus...
me? with Khedra... i'm imagining that i'm *******
the mother of the person who: truly wronged me
back when i was 21... i'm ******* his mother:
in my eyes... she somehow resembles her...
Mrs. Safar-Aly... oh yeah... big time...
eh... she might have been Iranian... but you're not
that far from an Iranian woman when you're
******* a Turkish woman... the same raven hair...
but the Jeminah scenario...
  she's not going to allow a father-figure into
this boys life...
   she'll allow an older brother figurine...
a ***-toy type that always wants her boy to have
fun... a bouncy-castle for his birthday...
but not someone who will bake the boy a banana loaf...
or read his poems out-loud... who might take
interest in his schooling schedule...
who says: don't learn French... learn German...
English and German are more grammatically linked...
it'll be easier for you...
she won't allow a father figure into the boy's life...
she is truly afraid of men like me...
why was i ghosted? because... she never received
flowers on her doorstep... in the middle of the night:
for Valentine's Day?
oh... i think what also bothered her:
****! i can't find him on social media!
i can't snoop on him!
he's not on Tinder! i can't swipe swipe left left left!
troublesome times... truly... very troublesome...
he makes his own wine?!
he collects vinyl records?!
              we have lived all these 30+ odd years...
but... same world? different reality...
it wouldn't help to add that i prescribed myself
exercising myself with *** with prostitutes...
like what? i'm some sort of limp-****
inexperienced-gimp?!
                           run scared little doe... run!
a ******* "army" of Oedipal sons of single mums...
and how will these guys: coming of age...
treat women? would they... kneel before the altar
of a *******'s body... i always thought that
taking one knee to the floor exfoliated
the rest of the body than... taking two knees...
like at church... like when a woman does so...
when you're standing and she's ******* you off...
******* altar before the crucifix...
hell... for all those football shills... anti-racism...
that's if you get rid of race: to begin with...
but as a(n) European... ethnicity matters more...
that's how you tell the difference between
    a Croat and a Serb... a(n) Ukrainian from a Russian...
a Swede from Suede... sorry... a Swede from
a Norwegian...
always get that wrong... esp. after the Deluge
                                                       (1648 - 1667)...
Jeminah couldn't come to terms with a man her
own age... who... actually built up a life of his own...
without having lost any interest in it...
without losing any vitality itself and for life too...
not having children didn't bother him...
him: id est ego... me...
                      in all fairness... i thought i was going
to be the one talking openly about my
past girlfriends... but as it turns out...
women are just as prone to only talk about past
failures... i was more willing to change the topic
on the focus of vinyl... music... food...
the stuff that matters...
                 oh well... her past failures... her son...
those stomach cramps really paid off...
warning signs...
             much better with Khedra and torso
pain from having performed in the missionary
position for an hour... much better.

My wife, a deer fae, a snep, a ghost fox, wolf
Me, a Red fox, an arctic fox, an Arcanine, a Pidgeot, a Persian

Together we are a family
A family of a fur, a family of fun

Both of us plural
Both of us autistic

We love and cherish each other
We care for and teach each other

I love them and they love me
I want the best for them, they for me

They depressed and in need of love, me stressed but still loving them
Me stressed and needing love, them depressed and still loving me

We are great, we are love
Love is with us, love is around us
Renewed love is all around us, We are renewed

Mx. Aly I love you to the moon and back and you deserve the whole world and more.
🏳️‍🌈👩🏽‍🤝‍👩🏼❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

You can see well dead to me,
Toy Turgan the book of cos.
Altogether old to you,
Thank you mather cool to you.

Then oy say to you of mem,
To you go of people go.
You cool back together soon,
You of people cool me back.

Say ol cool together ****,
Kiss me bebe in the good.
You cool me it's mather can,
Chalga shuck to you of cos.

Tegerman olgan zaman,
You old speak tatr language.
You cool me of bebe shut,
Toyalgan zaman bulgan.

Aha ha in cover me,
You can sleep together ****.
You can back to you of cos,
******* bebe cool of me.

Tegerel of people cos,
Thank you bebe ol of me.
Tuy aly tuya belgan,
****** people sundergan.

Shul yazyk tatar language,
Its in living Russia day.
Old you speak of cos to me,
I'm its me tatar to man.

I'm its boy go ****** bic,
Altogether mather sleep.
You consort to you of ned,
Thanks you boys to you of me.

Kiss me bebe i love you.

Tegar tuga tyga
Can the people of cos
Song you diya to more
You of picture cos

You of milk to yugal
Tayger olg to of mi
Global ops you can dead
Cosme ofs you can mi

Global opzis you dead
Cool mi coseng to you
Kiss mi bebe oyo
There ayel turgan yul

Thes is saya tatar
Long to mather to mi
Set you gone tu yaly
Oldinda burgany

Com you bebe alga
To yaly burga tur
Aly yaly turgan
Zamany Tamerlan

GOTUDERAT