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Dondaycee Sep 2018
I don’t know if 1 +1 = 2,
If I had to count I’d point at you and you,
I don’t know how to subtract one but if one person leaves I’d be pointing at the one I didn’t lose,
I don’t know how to learn from a book,
I thought knowledge was attained through experience;
How did that turn into labeling kids with disorders; as if the archetypes that are non linear were mysterious,
We call our kids special,
Treat them different,
As if that type of nurturement were helpful;
Baffled, because these types of accusations exploit a misunderstanding that’s serious,
He learned about friendship through Toy Story,
He learned about friendship through war stories,
His imagination gave life to toys; they created the picture after that,
His application made a child a boy; a missing picture was aftermath,
He promised to never forget the love he gave before moving,
He had an obligation to forget the meaning of love before duty,
Friendship was movie,
Friendship was duty,
We may learn different; but are we truly?

We used to take these things slow,
We was too young, we used bowls,
Blunts only came with the shows,
High only came without goals,
Now I don’t even have bros,
And this was the life that I chose,
Love was up under the nose,
Had to let go, I couldn’t show,
Experiences hurt me the most,
What is a home, I am alone,
Finding my life in a post,
It’s cutting close…

Eyes closed; I feel uncomfortable in the physical,
**** me please; I find normal in the mystical,
I don’t mean to be dark but its the psychedelics that make life livable;
Jedi flipping with acid and molly,
The fungi was just a treat,
Confronting thoughts nowadays because earlier we didn’t meet,
Something went wrong; I.e. unbalanced,
Destiny discrete; to meet was an unbound chance,
And I couldn’t time it,
Now every word spoken is a time I didn’t speak,
I try to stretch my mind to find the other reality,
The gravity of this situation is projecting real without me;
Whatever happened to Chinese philosophy,
The time in which I was I and death was life and opportunity expressed divine in a time frame where we were destined to be...

Color me your color baby,
I know where you are,
Cover me your love is fading,
We shouldn’t have been too far,

I’m not happy with the results,
Ignorance is the reason I accept it,
Nothing’s expected, but I’m praying that I eject the next second,
I can only be respected after neglection,
I’m better off expressing a resurrection,
Left too early and life says it’s right,
Lead loaded caskets; well I’ll continue to write,
Left hand can be now, tomorrow’s my right,
Wait…
Happy nation, living in a happy nation,
“where the people understand andd dream of perfect man”;
WAIT...
Where’s my patience; I’m living in a happy nation,
We the people understand andd dream a perfect plan,
And I keep waiting for being to become our way in…

I want to be quiet, this is a crash,
I’m lacking nutrients; that’s my validation on why I’m thinking bad,
I’m thinking pessimistic; “She’s the best I nevver hadd” or “I swear I’m always thinking sad”,
This is the illusion, and I ain’t alluding,
I never picked a side my friend.

I took a breath to channel my inner jedi,
Lili was a witness, however she’d  disagree,
I told her , “we are god”; she had a different belief,
I stopped that ****, the fun guy was keeping me head high; I told her I accepted her the moment she accepted me,
There was a sudden relief,
I was expressing a lesson and received a blessing in the form of treat,
Now I am stuck in disbelief,
Because I literally experienced my mind and became a Jedi,
Existence itself only validated one thing, and that is the existence of me.
glass can May 2013
sugared fingers, the smell of Chanel
and I am flushed on red berry wine

and the charms of someone, dear,
who I would like to call "Valentine"

la vie en la rose
this red stains lips pink and
I see in pink, everything around me

as I dip my nose to my wrists, inhaling

Sicilian oranges, Calabrian bergamo
Indonesian patchouli, Haitian vetiver
Bourbon vanilla andd white musk


I giggle coquettishly and I am blushing,

For these sweet nothings
mean very much to me
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2023
Brian Molko was already doing the current wannabe-trend of trans-sexuality long before trans-sexuality was a common "thing"... tracing back some ulterior taboo settings... today on my way to work i spotted my first trans-******: wow! obviously he had manly hands... large... he was tall... he had large feet... but slender legs... and a face, with all that necessary make-up of eyeliner... hair? not very long... shoulder length... yes... a deep voice... but then again my godmother has a husky voice from all the smoking and drinking... but i fancied him... the dynamic on the tube was magnifying... three women sat beside him while he was talking to his geeky (maybe, probably) boyfriend, a plump chap with eyeglasses... i couldn't stop thinking: ah... the solidarity of men... when in shortage of supply of women, men will find alternative avenues to compensate for women, men will find women in men... the idea that i might be a transphobe never occurred to me: but it did occur to me that women: for all their supposed glorification of acceptance would never allow men to be attracted to men who are: beyond merely the thespian gay-lord, *******... ally... this... "freak"... i fancied this man... i could omit all the stressed "imperfections"... but such a feminine-feline face... it really suited him... i wanted to kiss him... i was thinking... i'll tend to the "oysters" and all the tender bits and bites of being with him... andd do the butcher's work with a *******... problem solved... this skin-head middle-aged (i'm coming to middle age, or life expectancy, not the lottery of mortality, mind you) sat next to me and was sort of nudging me with a shadow missing in the full-glare of the lights of the tube... you fancy him? insinuations via body-language: yeah... i do... is it wrong? nope! check the women sitting next to him... do you fancy them? nope... me too... of the three or four women sitting next to this trans-****** specimen... none had a lovelier face... mutations just... "happen"... the eureka-oops moments... i could seriously forget about the shared dimensions of large hands twice as big as that of a geisha, same with the feet... i could forget the baritone voice... i really fancied this boy... in a way that gay-lords just make it difficult having mingled with actors too much and not retaining an aura of: suspense and: something in me is frigid, alien... i shouldn't but... hell... i really should! i will! benevolent London that is... he was prettier than all the women i saw that day... like my grandfather once said: there are no ugly women... there are only abandoned... if not abandoned then neglected women... to think that women could ever be neglected: says as much about neglected men... men will find alternative avenues to women when the women self-exfoliate in their "privilege" of: first-come-first-served-and-thus-the-only-served menu... **** that! but what was special about this trans-****** specimen? it reminded me of the time i fancied Brian Molko, still do... in a non-gay sort of way... in a Plato the Plumber there's a blocked toilet of reincarnation afloat... it was actually, sort-of, actually-sort-of-funny watching the women on the same carriage trying to read my reaction... for once a man was more attractive than a woman to me! wow! being accused of trans-phobia... in London? well... only if you can't pull it off! it's like saying: coulrophobia! fear of clowns! with the clowns being without make-up? conflating the Apex Twin gargoyle from Window-Licker?! yeah... scary ****! the grin that's the length of the equator... i couldn't be attracted to a standard homosexual... Thespian leeching or intellectually pleasing akin to a Douglas Murray... or body-building blah blah... but this trans-****** specimen? that's an affront to a woman... all women... a man can have a prettier face to a woman's if... a man deems the exampled woman to be nothing more than akin to a lineage of... never arrived at cosmopolitanism... beetroot countryside proud... all red and irritated... i fancied this one... i was one step away from askig him: can i have your number? again, to reiterate: i didn't mind the deep voice... i didn't mind the size of hands that could match mine or the size of feet that could match mine... i was... infatuated with the magic dust of PIXIES! maybe that's what i learned from going to the brothel... but if you're going to play the trans-****** game... can you please avoid the mishandling of the Hippocratic oath... so little is actually necessary to accomplish a ****-heterosexual confusion-attraction that leaves women feeling inadequate: you, wouldn't even want to begin to believe! i'm now currently thinking of that film: the Odd Couple... Walter Matthau as Oscar Madison and Jack Lemmon as Felix Unger... Felix being the male-feminine counterpart of the feminine-man slob child pampered to: or however this quadratic works... i wouldn't be doing the cleaning and the cooking out of a feminine dignity to avoid doing the hard work of society's demands... no... i'd be perfecting my cooking to match up to the sort of food available upon heading out to a restaurant, i.e. not eating out... i've seen some car-crashes of trans-****** attempts... but this one stuck out for me because i started to think along the lines of: who needs women if men can appear prettier than women?! i'll just close my eyes when hand meets hand... it's a sickly sweet sensation but i could stomach it: if the conversation was kept to a satisfying lubrication: and it wouldn't be even remotely associated to the feminist-gay "commonwealth"... alliance... i don't need homosexuals to tell me XY&Z... i'm actually grooving this trans-****** trend: if spotting the exacting specimen to curtail all the wannabes... if there's an authentic Brian Molko specimen walking around... wow! reimagining being *** starved on the Western Front... a few guys with more artistic inclinations... rather than the rough sea-faring roughage of **** on the spot job done become involved... prettier faces than those of women... i could: no! i would succumb! it's just the terror in the eyes and on the faces of women... hey presto! a stick has two ends! freeze eggs... follow a career... demand a car a mortgage blah blah... my my... what a curiosity this trans-****** worked up to a perfection specimen of disphoria awoke in me... good enough cushioning blanket of sleeping with enough prostitutes... now i really want to sleep with a man... which is not gay... i'm bored of prostitutes... they're like any other woman: you pay them... yet they still complain as if you haven't paid them when not getting a hard-on because of (x) tiredness, (**) distraction, (***) life... per se... whatever... but those female faces... i pretended to be snoozing... they knew i knew... i kept an itch of a blink at this specimen... woman: ANGRY... no... actually... not angry... woman... what the **** is going on? of the times i went to a gay club and didn't pick up a Francis Bacon i wondered: did i drink enough? homosexual lust and all that same-for-same feminine-pro erotica of the jealous stone-rub-stone-offensive... the trans-****** "confusion" is a bright light... if done properly... done... naturally... i'm mesmerised... without... obviously... without... people succumbing to the breaking of the Hippocratic-oath... obviously... i despise the gay-pride movement... at least the authentic trans-sexuality movement is subtle... it's philosophically laden with a curiosity of more lips and less **** stressing fist-*******... this morphing of the pareidolia toward: seeing a female in a man's face... or seeing a man in a woman's face... hardly gender dysphoria... *****-utopia and... just as children look alike, regardless of ***... so do old people... also regardless of ***... but to achieve a heterosexual attraction in the realm of trans-genderism? it can't be forced... it has to happen ha-ha-naturally! i'm laughing at myself... only briefly... i'm more inclined to see the female in a man without seeing the homosexual... because homosexuality is like that quote from... no... not Human Traffic... about being gay and eating *****... how... eating ***** is not for real men... while ******* **** is all All Spice Alles Mensch... whatever... the gays are too proud might as well look out for the shy, proper, proper shy... trans-sexuals without any anti-Hippocratic-Oath mishandling(s)... the women become jittery thus...

i should have come home and reflected on spending
the past several hours on a shift
in Bishop's Park, overlooking Putney Bridge
watching the tide of Thames' recede back into the great
mouth before mingling with the salty waters
of the North Sea...
     all loved-up with the cold the dark and the wind
putting on some Woljiech Kilar soundtrack music
from Dracula - love remembered...
well... i was in the mood for something like that:
i put the track on... nope... can't feel it...
i'm tired, i'm cold i need to put on something to groove
to... we ain't going out like that - Cypress Hill...
tiredness swells the imitation pigeon-strut
in my head... bouncy-Billy will also ask for a chance
to express himself...
    the joke ran with Martin's team (Chelsea)
losing for the first time since 2006 to Fulham...
         the police officers were in a good number...
they even brought their horses...
two stood across from us when the final whistle was
blown... one of them started "laughing": if that's
what horses do, i.e. laugh...
no onomatopoeia here: hey Martin! even the horses
are laughing that Fulham beat Chelsea in the most
local derby of London...
    Craven Cottage is what? a mile at max two from
Stamford Bridge...
          one can only love the ever infuriated Martin...
but still the Thames receding...
   at first glace i might have stretched across
the balustrade and probably touched the surface of
the water... by the end of the shift when the river-bed
started to be exposed i started to wonder:
all that volume and now apparent air where once
there was water...
  no river in the world akin to the Thames...
tide in and tide out... at Westminster it's a river
that rid itself of the kettle and is nonetheless standstill
and boiling - during the day...
while eating a chicken wrap of torsos and tortillas
talking to a Norwegian who came over to watch
the football for the week...
last time he was here in the 1980s... have things changed?
the oyster one-touch travel card...
sure... it has just become a little bit more expensive:
but nothing has changed that much...
but during the night, and if its windy... well: clearly
there's a flow... a tide in or a tide out...
by the time i got to Goodmayes i walked past the brothel:
thank god i have nothing more to prove
thank god i have satiated my base needs and that's that...
what am i looking for? a compliment to a pharma-knock-out
of generic painkillers in the form of a bottle
of whiskey...
    too tired to **** not tired enough to think:
maybe i could fall in love again...
   fall in love... fall in love: but... ugh...
               fall in love and not pamper a woman's needs
with all those basic "tattoos" of courtship...
i might as well ask any future father-in-law:
so... where's my cow, my wedding dowry?
                     where's the pick-me-up to work with?
well if manna from heaven will not drop into my lap...
i hardly think... who the hell needs a car in London?
given the oncoming ULEZ restrictions?
bicycle, underground and the trains, plenty of buses...

today i was sent the most odd message from a coworker
who i am supposed to do a shift at the ice rink
on Sunday...
i was rather surprised - a "box" i never thought i would
unbox (as it were)...
i'll be honest... she's damaged - seriously damaged:
i'm on the "top" of the pile of damaged goods...
a mythological schizoid - ageing - each year turns
out easier as the madness spreads around me:
madness or the crushing mundaneness -
mundaneness or mediocrity -
    in a democracy it's all and the same: in the grey yolk
of bureaucracy -
         pushing letters through keyholes that leave
no door open: unless playing the "system" like
a criminal or a mummy with five different shades
of children from five different fathers...

                       the trouble with Russian girls is that...
they don't like a boy who appreciates music by Placebo...
huge disagreement... her take on Nancy Boy was
rigid and could never be biding: no appreciation of the music
for you... well... that be that...

this girl is hurt... i am hurt: everyone's hurt...
but i still find reasons to find silly happiness in cooking
cleaning, general groundwork labour of changing
the garden - some carpentry: cycling...
keeping up appearances of a well-kept diet
and perfumery of all sorts... at least dressing like
my idol Karl Lagerfeld... like an animal wears its fur...

she even changed her name to Frankie -
Frankie... i.e. is that Franklin, Frank?
no... it's actually Francesca...
the running joke with another girl i work with
runs along the line:
wouldn't that be something, to put on your CV
if you managed to convert her?
convert? or reconvert?
after all she has managed to produce offspring...
god knows why she's not in contact with her daughter...
but it's not like she was always a lesbian...
forced lesbian... it's not something a priori:
it's a posteriori...
after the facts that include: her biological father
beating her biological mum...
her biological mum abandoning her and her siblings
to escape with her dear life...
    how her step-father is like her biological father
but then the problem arises: the mother is unhinged
and now her step-father is facing splitting up with her
mother... of all the siblings she's the only one
keeping contact with her mother...
the other siblings, at least one... is ******* up to
her biological father who was: the greatest intersexual
boxer of the domestic environment to have ever lived
(in her eyes at least, i bet Tina Turner could compensate
such allowances of vanity)...

she used to be a man's woman once...
but now she switched... ******* without all
the Hippocratic misdeeds of the modern, current, narrative,
cutting off ******* and other genitals,
hormonal treatments... it's almost as if Joseph Mengele
died in body but his spirit lived on...
it's like a never-ending Auschwitz or at least
encryptions of mad-scientists for thirst of knowledge
have continued on a side-note of eugenics...
but at least with the closure of the 20th century
there was safe ******* experiments undertaken
by individuals without any authority of government:
the boys would grow their hair long and put
on eyeliner...
    perhaps even use girly perfumes or wear
dresses, nail-polish... hell... even sniff ******* or wear
them... but not with medical authority creating
irreversible ****** changes...
the girls would put on more weight or work out
and pretend to be East Germany's Olympians...
cut their hair short... who came the Pixie girls...
get tattoos wear signets: those bulky rings worth not
a gram of gold but their own worth of bulk...
    and like Francesca get an undercut with a Mohawk...
change their tone of voice... defence defence defence...
and become suddenly less and less agreeable...
still retaining a feminine smile and the odd feminine giggle
that could be unearthed...
or like with her text...
'hey... i want to go ice-skating after our shift...
do you think you'd be up for it?'
sure... although i only ice-skated twice in my life...
a long time ago, 13? i fell every single time...
i looked like someone who escaped from having
suffered from Polio...
i'll still look like someone who suffered from childhood
Polio akin to Israel Vibration's
Wiss", "Apple Gabriel", "Skelly"
      or Ian "Lane" Drury...
                                    instead i sent her a text replying:
sure... but i'll look like a spider equipped with
roller blades... i'll need to bring a casual set of trousers
just in case i fall and rip my work trousers...
'ha ha ha ha(insert crying with laughter emoticons)...'

oh sure... it's not a date... i'm not just going on a date...
we're not going for dinner...
i'm going ice-skating with a lesbian...
a butch-lesbian a hiding woman...
tattoos six-pack and muscle...
no wonder: only hours prior i was admiring
a would-be Brian Molko on the tube...
        
she followed up with a text of yet more defence:
but i'm skint - it will cost £10.50 for an hour
and a bit...
      we'll see i reply... as if she was implying:
if we can't get in for free... would you be willing
to pay?
i didn't reply with agreement to paying for...
then again: i'm not thinking about ***,
or homosexual conversion therapy...
i just don't remember when a girl last asked me to
go on a date with her... after all:
isn't a girl asking a boy to go ice skating with her
sort of asking a boy to go on a date?
she said she was quiet adapted to ice skating:
she owns a pair (of ice skates)... and i'll be the hilarious
polio walker / spider strapped with roller blades
trying to swim in quicksand...
mind you... i'm trying to rid myself of the past two
interactions in the brothel... terrible ***...
that one with the madam where i was limp...
the fate of the Sabine men gripped me...
i won't deny it...
second time... she calls herself my favourite:
she isn't... she's deluded... to the amazement of the other
girls i like to **** in the brothel...
i only extended my per usual 30min stay
by clocking up an extra 30min because i was so close
to climaxing from a *******: knock knock on the door...
time's up... no... not this time...
i'm going to finish... ergo...
but even she has paved her way onto a path of too much
physical augmentation...
if the **** don't come first... then the duck quack lips
reveal themselves first... she's an aging *******
and she has never done anything in terms of work
prior... no laundry no till service...
pregnant aged 14 and in the profession aged 16...
this is the murk and the sully of the gallows
of everyone: once, former, youthful idealism of love...
trotting a horse with broken legs like
waking up into birth by a man sitting in akimbo
for too long... standing up with numbed legs...
moving awkwardly...

obviously i was going to be robbed of Khadra and Mona...
Mona became stupid for getting pregnant
with a customer... hmm... i wonder who...
last time i saw her i teased her without a ******
and this massive fright gripped her face
because i was only teasing and she thought i was
a premature ejaculator... clearly a ****** was subsequently
used and the deposit in it: **** knows...
she should know... i haven't seen her since...

i think i'll text Francesca (Frankie) and tell her...
bring your skates girl... if we can't get in for free i'll
pay for the two of us...
only two shifts prior she was insinuating about
going for a pint: i just replied: i would...
but i had to help my father write the fortnightly
invoice and send it in...
like tomorrow... tomorrow i'll have to help my mother
with the taxes and VAT...
they're getting a new accountant and she lied
about doing her taxes on a spreadsheet...
**** me... i probably used Microsoft Excel twice...
twice, properly... but since i only used it twice...
i'm a bit rusty... so much worth of secondary school
education or the university...
   they taught us the bare minimum of real-world
life-long tools of the onslaught of technology -
   hammer and scythe i can use to count heads...
oh well: there's bound to be some crash-course for dummies
on the internet...

i waited until 9pm for the three of us to sit down to
eat some fajitas...
i overdid it using Kashmiri chilly powder
and three fresh chillies in making the pineapple salsa...
but the hotness neutralised itself with the addition
of the tomato salsa i made... and the guacamole...
the sour cream and obviously cheese, esp. cheddar
neutralises all possible excess spices...
we ate, chatted... one big ******* family,
me, father and mother and my "brother" and "sister"...
well... at least the cats meow and don't bark...
oddly enough: i'm happy... mediocre sort of:
that scene from Hellraiser: Inferno...
were the protagonist - a corrupt police officer -
is forced into a nightmare of having to relive his
eternity in his childhood's bedroom...
living with his parents...
shouldn't the horror be... your parents getting divorced?
i don't know why mine are still together...
they must be freaks... i must be a mutant:
well... born only two weeks after Chernobyl:
no riddles, only clues...
     i keep the conversation going...
i help around the house...
  
                        Frankie dealt me two nuggets of hashish
in the past 4 months... once i was desperate
when the hashish ran out so she gave me the number
of a marijuana dealer: great green all the way from
America... i only used the service once...
maybe that's me being bulletproof...
i'm cutting down on drinking and i will never return
to smoking marijuana to achieve a Buddha-esque glow
meditating while high and hungry...
weighing in at 78kg... it's a bit of a yoyo with me these
days... from 99kg through to 103kg...
but then... i pinch myself: i summon the ***** to pinch
back... hmm! no man-****... so i could try out for
some amateur rugby matches...

a butch lesbian asking a boy for a date to go
ice skating... i feel... truly terrible for all the conventional women...
i would have offered a cinema date...
she beat me to the better sort of entertainment...
she said: let's go ice skating...
i would have retorted: i do own two bicycles...
how about we go cycling in the night...
round and round Raphael's Park...
round and round... and if we're lucky...
and if the winter air aligns itself with some idiot
setting off fireworks... we can get snippets of whiffs
of imitation autumn... as if the leaves of the trees
have fallen in the dry crisp air and someone
set them alight and there's no rot and knee-deep
digging of plush-decay exfoliating a sickness
in the air... how's that?

i'll send her the text... hell... i'll pay for her...
i'm not interested in ***...
she might be a butch-lesbian trying to hide her
femininity... but she still smiles like a woman...

oh sure... i remember the last conventional:
heterosexual date i was on...
we met in a sweaty night-club... if we kissed we kissed:
i don't remember... she gave me her phone-number
i gave her mine... i was in the company of
about 3 girls who i met elsewhere, otherwise:
also randomly...
at least one made something of her life...
she ****** off to Norway - totally off-the-grid...
by now probably breeding huskies for sleighs...

the next time we met... i bought two bottles of wine...
the "date"? a job interview... we talked...
subsequently we went to a pub while i had a pint...
she was feeling claustrophobic...
i was the alcoholic and she became the **** of boredom...
she excused herself: some prior engagement
with her girlfriends... i guess she thought she got away...
i way happy to get away by same mechanisation
of oppositional psychology...
all this talk within the confines of carpe diem that
centred upon: what do you / what's you living
should i think about life insurance - will we live to be 70
years old?
well... that's the cherry on top with Francesca...
you want to go ice-skating? sure...
you want to go cycling with me in the night?
sure... life insurance / what do you for a living?
how much do you earn?
             can we live a little outside a prison within a prison?!

so much for Dawid Bovie's idea of the androgynous man:
if i'm to be surrounded by "butch" lesbian
and prostitutes: that's my lot then...
i'm not going to succumb to the CV-project-veritas
in-vitro infanticide females with CHOICE
like... my spunking into a bucket and calling it:
falling asleep with the sound of rain
trickling trickling on a metallic roof...
in the night when the horrors come and horrors
claim all the little details of frailty
of mortality...

                  for every tear-jerking sympathy for
a Romeo there's the mantis of
   a Judith kissing the decapitated head of
                                                             Holofernes:
**** it... the prostitutes i truly loved ******* are either:
pregnant or on "holiday"...
i passed the brothel only two nights ago...
i spotted a man walking out from the door...
he froze like a doe in the headlights and didn't move
until i turned my head and kept walking...
i was about to blast out with wind and voice:
no shame in having to share women
we will never impregnate!
start thinking like a woman, dear man...
think on ground of evolutionary bias...
for every women there's this boast of:
50% of men reproduced successfully...
while all the whole lot of them the 100% of train-wrecks
and Piccadilly butcher's antics with the flab
have... their greatest success story to ever live...
i could be worse off... than right now...
i could have married an ugly woman:
by definition: if a most feminine man
grows his hair long and applies some slapstick
makeover creases of eyeliner...
i can forgive him his match-for-match size
of hands... height... size of shoe...
but never an ugly woman... UGLY...
that goes beyond mere the physical-glass...
i'm talking: character... there's no prime-ego
LEGO building block... no architect's corner stone...
there's nothing to work with...
just everything to work around...
to avoid...
                    
    if: for ****'s sake... i'm not planning: i'm providing
the revenue... i want to go ice-skating!
she doesn't have any money? i have "too much"...
i don't: but for the worth of life in life that's only
to supposed to span a month's worth of living it...
hell: i have no better idea to pass the time...

at one point i found out that Francesca has some Irish
roots... you're Aye-Reesh?!
              really? never would have conjured up
a sharing of ******* on a leprechaun...
**** it for good luck... like circumcision:
that's apparently Hebrew for: good luck...
with the addition of: ensuring your bride to be
be donning a niqab and all those "other"...
culturally sensitive, exclusive terms of
cultural-dis-appropriation: or whatever the **** is
coming out of H'America...
             once upon a time when that cultural export
was relevant: these days: nothing new to be
found... except the abandoned moon...

well... i sent the text... sure... i'll pay for the ice-skating...
but you have to promise me to go cycling
with me during the warmer months
with me... don't worry about having a bicycle...
you can have my mountain-bicycle
i use for the winter months
while i'll get on my summer month
road-bicycle...
we'll head toward Thurrock...
and elsewhere that's Essex friendly
and far away from London outer-suburbia...
fresh... fresh...
Jean Claude van Dame...
                       Fresh: that's her idea of working out
before the shift... and then going ice-skating...
FooR x Majestic x Dread MC...

                oh well... life in Loon-downs...
or is that: no apples... i'm sure there are no apples...
if she takes the bait...
i.e. i pay for both of us going ice-skating tomorrow...
she better go cycling with me during the
summer months...
she says no to ice-skating tomorrow
i'll become Trojan in my own defense...
if she wants to be all ******* lesbian defensive...
i can be defensive too...
i'll arm myself with enough brothel visits to erase:
first... comes... oh my grandmother disappointed
me... i could have been there for my
grandfather stabbing himself in the leg
while entering the state of AGONIA...

                    i could have been there: she? trying to protect
me against the advent of mortality?
or her... biting my grandfather's alcoholism she
induced by being a terrible woman?
his last pleasures?
crossword puzzles... cycling, fishing,
rekindling with the day-tripper postcard sender
vouch! you're the simulation tourist with
his... grand... chill... no... not -dren...
his... sole and only grand-child... i.e. me...
him buying me the books i read over the summer holidays...

women are so ape so cruel...
i stopped believing in what's idealistic and rare before
me: which i can't replicate...
i'm happy being freed from:
i don't earn the sort of money that the state
demands taxing me... weird? no!
i don't earn enough to be taxed!
weird... i'm sort of pretending to be a jellyfish
afloat... simulating gravity:
gravity is always a simulation in the medium
of water...
                by air contra vacuum:
the mountain breathes in winter a cascade of
frigid snow slides down...
a Michael Schumacher goes skiing...
****** races cars at 200kmh... one loose turn and twist:
cranium like an opening of a watermelon...
jellyfish fighting for life dead-locked style
in a sick-bed while people nearest to him
think about magic-spells: how best to live without
him: how best to milk the cow with *****
instead of milk... hmm hmm hmm...

if she wants to go on a date with me to go ice-skating...
and i'm supposed to be paying for it...
she better be readied to go cycling with me
during the summer months...
if that's not going to happen:
she shouldn't have suggested
going ice-skating in the first place, for ****'s sake...
like: anything by Bricktop in ****** is
Shakespeare to me... perhaps even more...
living with the times...

                                oh well some well: Samuel!
Samuel: you're not Samantha... learn to become
a transvestite first... before we employ the ****
Hippocrates to mutilate you, o.k. darling?
    learn to grow your hair long...
learn to put on make-up... learn to wear dresses...
learn to sniff female underwear...
Samuel! Samuel! you're not Samantha (yet)!
we will not give you up to the Joseph "Hip-replacing-******"
Mengele: shy away from everything American
in the realm of: worth being culturally exported
and influencing foreign cultures: esp.
in the basin of the origins of the English ZZZUNGE...
that's England...
                  
HIPS FOR KNEES!
                    America: beacon, former: beacon of the world
to come... came one Cain for every second cannibal
no Satan was spawned: at least that's Iranian paranoia
covered: converted, shut the doors on Tehran...
bigger whoops happened when...
Garry Glitter became pop once more
with the release of the Joker movie
and that mad dance scene...
on the 132 steps where Shakespeare Avenue
meets Anderson Avenue...

    i will never, ever... visit... anything... remotely...
resembling... or being curated as being:
North America... i've had too much north american
cultural anemia...
             prior to words not being so much politcal
as agent orange doing all the "talking"...
                                  
  tam tam tam dam dam dam... ditto... do no more than
the necessary "evil": just, bass: on the base
on insinuation;
hell... if the afro-cosmopolitan is the new "cool",
the new "groove"...
let's just keep it... marred: in murk: in murky.
Infamous one Aug 2013
I want someone who can stimulate my senses
Her scent so refreshing when she is near
Her skin so soft the lightest touch
The sound of her soothing voice in my ear
The taste of her lips against mine
When we are together everything is fine
No one matters but her my eyes locked on her beauty
I'm the only one for her and the only one who truely matters
Her hand in mine we stand together
Be honest with love andd trust your heart
Lost gazing in her eyes that sparkle
She holds you with warm and passion
nvinn fonia Jan 2017
the trickks has 2 pass fromm mi to herr shee has 2 knoww mi andd things better than me and everything there is out here andd beyond
nvinn fonia Feb 2017
the trickks has 2 pass fromm mi to herr shee has 2 knoww mi andd things better than me and everything there is out here andd beyond
Kill me slowly Oct 2015
bind my wrists with barbed wire
and tell me you love me
hold me hostage with the hope in your eyes
andd if you ask ever so, not nicely..

i'll reach into my pockets
and
trade you some sanity,  if you give me your love.
nvinn fonia Jan 2023
hum this is it then it is one off those days when i feel like i m the happiest man alive that is what a family,,,,,, ps emulators ,,,, Nintendo,, sega,,,, andd linux ,,,,, andd a room off your own can do to you
NiTSUDD Feb 2017
In recent effents. An undurled experience release a revelation that have reptured my previously durable ambitions.
A free thinkng fantasy. Was to have a voice that could move souls in the way some have noutured mine.
Alas on an ordinary unrepressed weekday I find myself ****** in a climactic judgement day for my previously displayed visions.
I found myself arounded by poetential assistants to finally lighting the spark that may lead to these fantasies to gainly a lively tone.
Musitions and I came together in a spontaneous gathering of the subjected topics being discussed and performed in a casual tone.
While the turn strummed their beat up six strings i merely nodded my head and let the music claim my conciousness. A farmiliar and personally well admired tune began playing. One of the gentlemen asked if I know the lyrical content of the contempory composition. After I informed him that I did the road of the dreamroad was about to split and i would make the pivitol turn through audition now. I was struck with overwhelming bashfulness and nervy contraction. It was time.
I took all the courage I had left. And rattled the shell of the cowardous creative chartacter who lives within me, and I sang. I sang as clearly and well as I possibly could. I gave a performance of my ambitious alter ego that even I had not seen.
After the song came to a close, andd my heaet returned to place from my throat. I recieved a nonchealaunt response to this desperately hopeful side. "You didn't like, sing in a choir or anything did you?" I answered him.... "no"..... The other judge drew back the curtains and the question was answered, and it was preceeded with a chuckle, and it wss all finished with a "we can tell."
Lady Grey Sep 2017
Rubbing my bleary eyes
Staring at my computer screen
Scrolling down
Scrolling back up (i couldnt remember what id just read)
Sigh
Breathe
Type a few words
So much to do
Back to reading
Scrolling down
Scroling back up (i couldnt remember what id just read)
So little time
Type a few words
Sigh
Scrubbing my we epy eyes
So tired
Breaathe
Cant finish
Glaring at my computor screen
Scrlling down
Scrolling down
Scrolling back up (cant remeber what id just read)
Have to finishe
Type a few sentances
So close
Back t oreading
Scroling down
Scrolling
Typeing  a more sentancess
Almost
So tired
Kneading my sleapy eys
theere
Sigh
Tpe the slat sentanc
Andd

Done.
nvinn fonia Feb 2017
froomm my debian jessie linux  asus laptop i havv seen the whole wide world n i shall continue this thingg and i feel good andd  thank full to the lord who gave mi a laptop  food internet tea cigratteess
nvinn fonia Jun 2023
banned from__ Instagram finally___ success
matthew paschall Jan 2023
What does it mean to live in the moment?

My perspective.  

Past=depression  present=happiness  future=anxiety drugs=mask

First I think we have to start with the past. So let's look at what it means to dwell in the past.

The past...  

We dwell upon the things we cannot change.  We think back at all our past mistakes.  We find reasons to hate ourselves for past choices we have made.  Yet while we do this we dont realize that the past is the past  and we cannot change what has happened.  We can only change what we do in our present.  This is key.

The future.....

The other thing us as humans do,  is dwell to much into the future.  We worry about things that have not happened and may never happened.  

This is anxiety.  

Why do we put ourselves through this?  Our minds are racing about the infinite possibilities that may or may not happen.  All the while we dont realize if we just payed attention to the present, we would see how beautiful this world truly is.

The present.

Some say ignorance is bliss,  it's this very premise that brings a smile to ourselves.

It's only in the moment we make the memories that are held up to years of life.  

Our accomplishments,  our happiness, our pain.

Drugs.  

  This is where I feel drugs become a crutch that some people lean on to deal with depression and anxiety.  

Let's think about that for a moment.  A person who is struggling to deal with the past or the future may find themselves doing some type of drug.

But why is this?  My perspective is that when they are on drugs it's the only time they are truly living in the moment.  The present.  

You become focused on the feeling you get from drugs and alcohol and your past troubles fade away. Then Your future problems  drift by as you take ahold of the moment that your living.  The present.  

Its only after the drugs fade that the worries of tomorrow, coupled with regrets from the past, come back to haunt you.  

In order to enjoy your life, you dont need drugs...you dont need alcohol...you only need to embrace the space around you.  Look around, take it all in, and enjoy it.

Accept the things you cannot change and accept that we dont know what tomorrow may bring.  

Just enjoy the moment, embrace it, Love it andd set your soul free.

P.s. Drunken ramblings of a mad man
matthew paschall Jan 2023
What does it mean to live in the moment?

My perspective.  

Past=depression  present=happiness  future=anxiety drugs=mask

First I think we have to start with the past. So let's look at what it means to dwell in the past.

The past...  

We dwell upon the things we cannot change.  We think back at all our past mistakes.  We find reasons to hate ourselves for past choices we have made.  Yet while we do this we dont realize that the past is the past  and we cannot change what has happened.  We can only change what we do in our present.  This is key.

The future.....

The other thing us as humans do,  is dwell to much into the future.  We worry about things that have not happened and may never happened.  

This is anxiety.  

Why do we put ourselves through this?  Our minds are racing about the infinite possibilities that may or may not happen.  All the while we dont realize if we just payed attention to the present, we would see how beautiful this world truly is.

The present.

Some say ignorance is bliss,  it's this very premise that brings a smile to ourselves.

It's only in the moment we make the memories that are held up to years of life.  

Our accomplishments,  our happiness, our pain.

Drugs.  

  This is where I feel drugs become a crutch that some people lean on to deal with depression and anxiety.  

Let's think about that for a moment.  A person who is struggling to deal with the past or the future may find themselves doing some type of drug.

But why is this?  My perspective is that when they are on drugs it's the only time they are truly living in the moment.  The present.  

You become focused on the feeling you get from drugs and alcohol and your past troubles fade away. Then Your future problems  drift by as you take ahold of the moment that your living.  The present.  

Its only after the drugs fade that the worries of tomorrow, coupled with regrets from the past, come back to haunt you.  

In order to enjoy your life, you dont need drugs...you dont need alcohol...you only need to embrace the space around you.  Look around, take it all in, and enjoy it.

Accept the things you cannot change and accept that we dont know what tomorrow may bring.  

Just enjoy the moment, embrace it, Love it andd set your soul free.

P.s. Drunken ramblings of a mad man
matthew paschall Jan 2023
What does it mean to live in the moment?

My perspective.  

Past=depression  present=happiness  future=anxiety drugs=mask

First I think we have to start with the past. So let's look at what it means to dwell in the past.

The past...  

We dwell upon the things we cannot change.  We think back at all our past mistakes.  We find reasons to hate ourselves for past choices we have made.  Yet while we do this we dont realize that the past is the past  and we cannot change what has happened.  We can only change what we do in our present.  This is key.

The future.....

The other thing us as humans do,  is dwell to much into the future.  We worry about things that have not happened and may never happened.  

This is anxiety.  

Why do we put ourselves through this?  Our minds are racing about the infinite possibilities that may or may not happen.  All the while we dont realize if we just payed attention to the present, we would see how beautiful this world truly is.

The present.

Some say ignorance is bliss,  it's this very premise that brings a smile to ourselves.

It's only in the moment we make the memories that are held up to years of life.  

Our accomplishments,  our happiness, our pain.

Drugs.  

  This is where I feel drugs become a crutch that some people lean on to deal with depression and anxiety.  

Let's think about that for a moment.  A person who is struggling to deal with the past or the future may find themselves doing some type of drug.

But why is this?  My perspective is that when they are on drugs it's the only time they are truly living in the moment.  The present.  

You become focused on the feeling you get from drugs and alcohol and your past troubles fade away. Then Your future problems  drift by as you take ahold of the moment that your living.  The present.  

Its only after the drugs fade that the worries of tomorrow, coupled with regrets from the past, come back to haunt you.  

In order to enjoy your life, you dont need drugs...you dont need alcohol...you only need to embrace the space around you.  Look around, take it all in, and enjoy it.

Accept the things you cannot change and accept that we dont know what tomorrow may bring.  

Just enjoy the moment, embrace it, Love it andd set your soul free.

P.s. Drunken ramblings of a mad man
matthew paschall Jan 2023
What does it mean to live in the moment?

My perspective.  

Past=depression  present=happiness  future=anxiety drugs=mask

First I think we have to start with the past. So let's look at what it means to dwell in the past.

The past...  

We dwell upon the things we cannot change.  We think back at all our past mistakes.  We find reasons to hate ourselves for past choices we have made.  Yet while we do this we dont realize that the past is the past  and we cannot change what has happened.  We can only change what we do in our present.  This is key.

The future.....

The other thing us as humans do,  is dwell to much into the future.  We worry about things that have not happened and may never happened.  

This is anxiety.  

Why do we put ourselves through this?  Our minds are racing about the infinite possibilities that may or may not happen.  All the while we dont realize if we just payed attention to the present, we would see how beautiful this world truly is.

The present.

Some say ignorance is bliss,  it's this very premise that brings a smile to ourselves.

It's only in the moment we make the memories that are held up to years of life.  

Our accomplishments,  our happiness, our pain.

Drugs.  

  This is where I feel drugs become a crutch that some people lean on to deal with depression and anxiety.  

Let's think about that for a moment.  A person who is struggling to deal with the past or the future may find themselves doing some type of drug.

But why is this?  My perspective is that when they are on drugs it's the only time they are truly living in the moment.  The present.  

You become focused on the feeling you get from drugs and alcohol and your past troubles fade away. Then Your future problems  drift by as you take ahold of the moment that your living.  The present.  

Its only after the drugs fade that the worries of tomorrow, coupled with regrets from the past, come back to haunt you.  

In order to enjoy your life, you dont need drugs...you dont need alcohol...you only need to embrace the space around you.  Look around, take it all in, and enjoy it.

Accept the things you cannot change and accept that we dont know what tomorrow may bring.  

Just enjoy the moment, embrace it, Love it andd set your soul free.

P.s. Drunken ramblings of a mad man
nvinn fonia Apr 2023
andd i will like to give everybody my ps2 games  linkk for free honestly man sharing is loving after all
nvinn fonia Dec 2021
you and mi  tea andd  smokes and that's it man
nvinn fonia Feb 2022
andd now comes the time 2 hav faith in 1 and other about time long due man
nvinn fonia Nov 2023
andd all i can do now is make it entertaining so well hell are you not entertained
nvinn fonia May 4
when i die andd reincarnate as a European it will b a step upp i guess
nvinn fonia May 4
youu can never everr change human  nature so b sane stop trying to change me it is not possible andd i havv a gutt feeling you already know that just common sense so 2 speakk
nvinn fonia Jan 26
every thing has a reason including this this this this andd this

— The End —