The stage was  set the little untalented ***** monkeys gathred
like bizzar attention seeking ******  all for the title
of  Hello Poetry's top poet.

But enough with the weird named carbon copy poets
who now **** the charts im just saying im a little bitter.
Lets take a look at the judges you silly little donkeys.

It was a who's who of people who actully were something
that what in the real world we like to call original.
Jack  yes the loveable kinda ******* ****** who deep
down would probaly have more in common with Jack the Ripper
than Lord Byron  im just saying.

Baths  yes the queen of Hello  and i'd  be a smart *** now but im scared she'd hurt me  and not in a good way  not that im into
pain dam you Marv  Albert    i never knew the tijuanna brass were so freaky.

Chris Smith  the poet  the model  the all  around  hansome devil
with a heart of gold  you go girl.

Phil Roberts  the silent  yet  down right evil  arch enemy of
all things  sweet and pure finally off probation and his meds.
Still the restraining  order was in full effect thank God  Barney
that devil worshiping dinosuar was no where in site  and as long as the voices in Phils head were happy we were all safe.

And the man the myth the pervert drunken *******  of Hello.
Just back from his recent vist   to  Shady Pines  resort slash mental
institution.
Gonzo  along with his court ordred doctor .
Dr Jerry  Who held many degree's in bartending,Massage therapy with happy endings,And chemistry yes  he was a real busy ******* slash drug fiend okay dealer.
What a girl has her needs.

Sitting at the judges table it was the usal chatter how are you.
Nice ***'s  hey Phil  put down the knife.
Jack  wear did you get that muzzle and straight jacket?
Baths  reminding me she didnt wanna have to use the pepper spray
like at the Hello christmas party.

Gonzo pouring his wild turkey.
Dr Jerry yelling  hey just what do you think your doing?
What are ya drinking by yourself?
Good point  you silly *******  so after four strong drinks
some lines of uhh  sinus powder from Columbia they dont just
make records  to my suprize we were off like lindsy lohan
on a drug I mean  well a drug run.

The first couple of guys read there genitic poems all of which
were like taco bell food.It  pretty much  would either give you food poisening or the ****'s.

Person after person read there poetry the drinks poured
people gave there opinions  Chris well the poem was great just maybe pace it better.

Baths giving another deep comment that was always welcome
that and the contestants outta sheer fear knew not to cross her
cause **** happens after dark around here and the Hello dumpster
is filled with not just bottles of wild turkey yeah remember Drew?
Exactly.

Jack gave a long muffled  comment  that must have surely been brillant someone should really remove that dam muzzle.

Phil  goddamed dinosuar  i'll teach him for playing hard to get.
oh yeah he'll like it he'll like it real good  oh look
a puppy dog.

Okay kinda weird  but well yeah.

Then the  attention turned to the attention grabing little *****
of Hello  no not  Gary ****** man.
the only G that matters beside's spot  Gonzo.

Well I think you need to lean more into the microphone  when you
read  and um well to relax  show more clevage.
And may I say if that was a samba   it totally ******
1 star.

The room and other judges must have been amazed by my depth
for they were all silent.
Dr Jerry aplauded  dam he really knew how to fill out that cheerleading outfit   we really needed to take a fishing trip im just saying
male bounding is okay sometimes  just ask Phil.

The people kept rolling in i slept through most of the mens readings
the women  because im a gentleman  and a scholar I had DR Jerry give my card  cause if Ican help inspire and guide maybe cuddle  fresh hot
young poets im all for it   I know what your saying yes I am  
giving back to the Hello community and not just STD's and hangovers.

But enough with the foreplay  finally  with the tension built up
like little catholic school girls waiting for there savior Justin Bieber to make a appearence   it was time.

Who was Hello's top new poet.
The short little **** *******  slash  napoleon of hello walked to the mic.
And after several  attempts at reaching it  one of his many  
assistants slash  friends with benfits of staying on the charts forever
assumed the possition.
So he could stand on there back and talk in the mic.
Get your mind outta the gutter.

The winner is  for there poem the Gentic.
There began a rumble beside me ******  Dr Jerry
stop jerking off were public man.

But it wasnt my dealer I mean doctor .
It was My fashion forward amigo Jack.
The rumbling continued slowley the straps began to snap
as his color changed to red once would have been to green
if not for copyright infrigement dam you king kong.

The red devil burst from his restraints  like a  stripper off
a four week ******* binge let loose  at Macdonalds.
tables flew  clothes were ripped.
Bathe's yelled  at the top of her lungs  look ****** I have a tazer
so if you try to cop a feel i'll use it.
Must have been talking to Phil or Chris.

I knew what to do  in this chaos i quickly ran with the special talent of Hello  to my dressing room  DR Jerry  emergency bring  wild turkey duct tape  a video camera  a inflatable swimming pool  some jello mix and  a Kenny G  cd  and some roofies .
Im kidding  I never listen to Kenny G.

The screams were that of a german shapard ripping a smurf to shreads.
Help me  plaese  mommy I almost felt sorry for Eliot.
But i did what a true gentleman slash long winded journalist does in these time's. Sat back with some cocktails and enjoyed some jello
wrestling  opps  I think  the tickle monster is loose.

Me first  me first  ******  Phil  well if it keeps the voices at bay
why the **** not.
We laughed we danced  Jack Horner  bathed in Eliots blood.
While Chris said please  stop including me in these ****** stories
Gonzo.
    
While Baths  kept her tazer in hand  and dry white wine in the other.
Much like  a bad habbit I grow on you.
Jack looked at me as old brothers in shared insanity often do.
Hey Gonzo  when ya  gonna end this one mate?
Hey amigo  as soon as ya get that  *** on stage and close the show
with a lady gaga  preformance.

The *****, the *******,  the Brits,And Gonzo,
With his doctor slash roadie slash personal man servant bartender
who could ask for anything more than a purple dinosaur's head on a platter but enough about Phil.

Untill next time Stay Crazy  Kids.
Gonzo.

-Eye Candy

While black leather leggings enchance the appearence of womens legs and accentuate their figure,

They without fail, always provoke impure thoughts that lure me down the path of a backsliding sinner.

You lurk in chat rooms talkin
bout what you'd like to do.
All naked accept for a captian's hat.
Ya know after hello it's probaly
not best to ask do you wanna *****.

Mr pervert do you enjoy.
Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a
show.
Getting beat with a wire hanger
being called a bad boy.

Were ya born with a ***** loose?
Did uncle Charlie get to friendly
and papa John slip something in your juice?

Do you really like farm hand dot com
thats just wrong.
No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you
covered in oil wearing a thong.

And im really not into what ya can fit
up your ***.
Glad to know what happend to that goon
at the back of the class.

No you cant have my number.
Okay your a woodman.
Please I really dont need any pics of
your lumber.

No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak.
Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every
other day of the week.

You really need some help.
Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a
great show for you to make a appearence.
No I dont wanna play airlane.
so ***** your clearence.

Please why cant that connection to
your basement just go out.
Guess what your doing now.
Well to be honest I know without a single
doubt.

I can imagine what its like to be you.
well ***** that cause theres some ****
so freaky even I wont do.

So when ya see that name appear
on the screen it's probaly best to ignor.
I mean unless your really into hanging out
with a lathred up nut who eats outta
a dog dish apon the floor.

I was flipping through the channels
and to no suprize what did I see.
why dateline with Chris Hanson and
Mr pervert on my t.v.

I had to laugh at  every word said.
Gooodbye Mr pervert.
Didnt take a geinus  to figure out
you were ****** up in the head.

Why is it every time you live somewhere it feels like your not wanted. Even with your parents or parent you feel like your not wanted. Even if you try your best to make everyone happy and accept you still dont feel wanted. I guess when you let go of people that do hurt you you feel even lonlier because u dont have them hurting alot.Its like an empty space in your life which i guess would be good because its not any pain but your so use to it it feels like your missing a big piece in your life.Because your so use to taking the blame and dealing with the hurt. You want it back so you dont feel lonly but you dont want it back because it is nice not having everything be blamed on you even if you didnt do it. Guess what i really am missing is church god in mylife and feeling is love and appearence in mylife. Knowing that he is with me each and every step of the way. Knowing and feeling the love and appearence of him. I need christian friends people that can show me a good path and how to be in control of mylife. To show me how to guide my siblings the way my mom wants to guide them. Show my siblings that i can be obediant with them and my parents. Not to yell or stomp my feet when i get mad or fusterasted. Not to get annoyed when my littles sibs say something over and over to acknowledge them calmly and not yell. To be able to give them adivce and love them when they want to be loved. I want that for them because I never had it so I am going to try and be calm with them and be nicer to them. I want them to be able to be close to them and love them unconditionally.  Even when they tell my parents about every little thing i have to deal with it and know they are doing because they care. I didnt know how much caring would be so hard to except even when it doesnt annoy you. I know deep down in my heart i love it and i am smiling trying to hide it because i love it . Even if it is something that i love i still like it in the end. But it still ***** that its gone. end the end i know its because they love me. They wouldnt of taken me in if they didnt.

Known as the beast,
He actually was the
cursed prince,
his only parts that were human
were his beautiful heart
and the crystal blue eyes
that held so much pain
mixed with hope
to find his Beauty
who, with her True Love,
will break the spell
but
the beauty was too blind
to look beyond his ugly appearence,
to drown in his crystal blue eyes,
and
to fall in love with his
beautiful heart
the hope in his eyes died one day
the curse grew stronger
and now he was
The Beast by Heart !!

Should i go along
With a fake smile

Or just frown all day

Equipped with a mind of its own. So intelligent, independent. How lovely could such a thing be? Any one can honestly step a foot outside of their own comfort zone and could right away, catch a pretty being out the corner of their eye. But tell me, could anyone right off the bat spot someone with a pretty soul? A mindset of the wonders, so amorous that an aura of bliss surrounds She?

Could one glance, one move or one word overwhelm the physical structure? Can it possibly defy human qualities? Can She, possibly be? One glance, can easily tense muscles.

One move can without stress, shoot these sensations down your nervous system. One word can alter brain waves and deplete your speech in ways that your tongue becomes a foreign language.

Such a thing, such an emotion could not be solved by any physicist nor chemist. No medicine or research can overthrow something so powerful. It’s as simple as can be, but yet so dangerous and no one is immune.

A crush. That’s all that’s needed; so viral and contagious. Once you pass by the She who has this in their DNA, it causes for no turning back. You’re caught. You’re done. You’re stuck with this illness ‘til death. And that’s the thing. Everyone is bound to catch this disease eventually. There is that one person out there that matches your DNA. I guarantee that the person will infest your immune system ‘till death do us part. You just need to wait, don’t rush, stay patient.

If you overjump, you’ll ultimately hurt yourself for forcing your body into this sickness because of just a pretty appearence. It’s false, and straight up lethal. You’ll just know right off the bat when you found your matching illness. Your body will initiate, then your mind will, of course, follow.

Issue or no issue, the fact that there is no issue becomes an issue
Over a period of time this issueless issue gathers the strength of storm,
a storm, which is waiting to happen in your life.

Story or no story,
there is always a story,
something,
which goes on at the back of your mind.

Subconscious mind has got lot of things in it's store to store some of which belong the past,
a few amongst them belong to present,
somewhere along the line of thinking a few amongst them even relate to the future.
Hence story or no story there is always a story that goes on in the mind, the only thing that remains is that you need to redress the same.

Whether you agree upon or you disagree,
argue or deny,
more or less,
it makes little or no difference.

A fact that always draws all your attention,
something, which remains pretty much the same,
over a period of time a bottom line which is drawn also states the same,
conflicts have always remained a part of everyone's life.

Over a period of time everything related to conflicts remains more or less the same.
At most the intensity of conflict can be reduced, later on the same conflict will come up again, if not resolved.
Definitely over a period of time everything related to a conflict remains more or less the same, if not resolved.

When efforts are been made at every level to decide upon the future course of action something is waiting to happen round the corner,
waiting to take place is nothing else,
nothing different, but a debate.

Now here at this point in time during a debate, conflict makes it's first appearence.
Conflicts can govern any kind of form, small or big, then that doesn't matter.
Initially at the beginning intentions or obligations will not come in middle of the way.
If you don’t have any intentions, doesn't matter.
For the time being things will remain stable,
but not for quite long time,
sooner or later things will change,
since your peers will defintiely take the much needed initiative of getting you involved in the conflict making sure that the debate continues taking a new shape.
The conflict of thoughts will then begin again.
Like or dislike, love or hate, feelings and emotions have remained a part of everyone's life.

Complex is the nature of thoughts going on in the mind different from routine
So complex are the thoughts going on in the mind,
so much so that they make the most simplest of things in life look complex.

A perplexed situation bothers the mind
Everything that goes on in the mind then needs monitoring,
need of hour remaining more or less the same
The need prior was also the same,
need during overcoming an odd still remains very much the same.
Not only how to make things work is the concern in the present, but much more concerning is to make them work in the right way.
The only way out is to pick up the right moment in time to get the right way out of the present situation.

Almost all the time many feel,
if not most of us that life is simple,
however, most of the time this does not happen,
neither does it hold true.
Definitely, sooner or later,
a few simple things become a part of everyone's life remaining in their life for quite a long time.

I went to a place.
Dark and lit by city lights.
I let me heart rest, my mind...not up to the task,
I let the moon handle that.

The stadiums are sound  asleep,
the three rivers calm and live as always.
The fountain shines high tonight, well deserved appearence.
All I can hear is tires on construction roads.
I can hear the *** holes laugh from here.

It's sad really.
I will never see it as others do.
The burden of knowing the truth.

I'm tired of being second.. My eyes lose direction when I think of this planet.

My palms so hot and my heart is drawn to lyrics.

There words trace my life and my appearence, forget what they say cause all they ever want is someone who will give them attention !

Those idols! Those Golden and silver boys and Girls that gave there soul for attention!
But who am I? Getting ****** in of there current life...are they dead or just not alive?

Existence is what they prize
Living is what I love, to love is what makes life my life is like night all black and the only light that comes in is the son behind me giving me light to see..

I'm tired of being second, but when did my strength have to do with what I do best?

"I rather be second and do my best then to second guess of who I am just to exist for there attention."

The first time i saw you
I witnessed the clouds part.
You were simply walking
I thought to myself, holy ****
Because
I'd never seen
Someone as cute as you in my life
cliche right
No.
Because see you looked at me too.
And i must ask
what were you thinking?
If...
Anything at all.
I found myself thinking of you all day
Nothing lustful,
No
Just innocent thoughts.
I thought about how clear your eyes are
And how much i would like to talk to you.
Im a loverboy.
God i know.
And i fall easy.
But trust me,
I want you
You are different.
Just like me.
And i value that.
I value you
I know these words are words.
But i am trying to be brave.
See
i dont like to be brave
But you are worth humility
Worth slander
Worth anything.
You took my heart that day.
And if its okay with you,
Id like to implement a no returns policy
Im a simple guy
But my feelings for you are joyfully complicated.
I looked in the mirror that day.
i took a **** good look at myself
And i came to the conclusion that i couldnt win a girls heart like yours.
But i know.
i know
That you dont love for the appearence.
Every time we meet
You greet me with a warm smile,
tight hug
And i hope
You see something in me that you like
Right?
God i hope so.
I can never find the words to tell you
But
Here it is.
I like you.
(As i fall over in ******* relief)

Our Father, who art in heaven
I have some confessions.
I am terrified.
Of what?
Everthing.
I break into plague-like bubonic hives when I worry about THE future, my future,
any future because it does not involve any of the nows.
Moments of newness and unclarity, of strangers and distant conversations of topics I know not of yet,
weeks in agony trying to earn money for rent,
days waiting for a sign, in the form of a plus or minus, to dictate whether or not
a parasite grows in my womb.
Father, I sin daily
for I am a glutton
in my eyes.
I see flaws in my appearence,
though no horrible disfigurements exist;
in my thoughts, this is even more unforgivable,
the invention of sorrows that are not mine,
the pitiful desire for perfection.
I feel I do not deserve the wonders that I have.
Grant me the ability to feel secure and grateful
rather than worthless and guilty.
Oh brother, woe is nobody
for all is too good to waste,
yet nearly impossible to entirely feel.

i want you to regret everything
you've loved before me and lost
        i want everything else besides me
        to lose their eesome ways
        everything you write aureate of me
                and the sillage of when i go outside
                without you to burn as if the sun was in your hands
as all your promises will be mine
        mine will be yours and i will walk between these
                valleys
        with you and when this world burns apart
           i will follow you to the stars
and despite my lustful appearence desired from your eyes
        to the ****** of your hips and wrists to mine
   i want you to be inside my minds, hold my thought's hands
            be in my nightmares, and stir my dreams
                there is no condition you've put me in
                        so i must ask you put yourself in the same

Unprovide my mind, please.
Lest I care about matters of the flesh.
Listen to my expostulation,
as I am prostrate bowed.
I do not want exoneration,
for lust stains will remain
but I can no longer stand
the tenacity of it.
For it no longer can command
in guaranteeing its veracity.
So I long for someone to fetch
this excellent wretch from me.
The inner dome of Heaven has fallen
and with it, this wicked thing's ethereal appearence.
Revealing the venereal act planned from the begining.
I run far and hide from Daystar.
No longer enamored with its lustful glamour.
I wish for its allure to be nullified
and so it may unprovide my mind.

I started out simple... Flat, plan, and white...

The first few folds were easy... But it's finished form was far from the light

"What is it? What is it?" They constantly asked

I didn't answer them, because I wasn't even sure if I was going to be able to complete this task.

I folded, twisted, and bended the paper in many ways

And when I had to throw it away... I heard laughter of great dismay

Continuous fails... At creating a sensitve beast

Different structures brought different problems with every crease

Doubted, Slandered for even trying, over something fragile and small

What threat could this Paper Dragon be? Into the trash it falls...

Origami is window that makes the weak paper stand out as strong

Conflict built its wall, Tension rested its tent, is what I'm doing wrong?

Hands stiff from determinations curse... At last it was finished

Excited to reveal my plan for such a magestic beast.. But too soon that was diminished

Although it was white and pure, its appearence and identity was shamed

"Why a dragon? A symbol of Satan, A sign of distruction, Hell as a name?"

Can you stop seeing me and the things I create all a symbol of darkness within me?

You say I am what I create, and I can't say that you're wrong. So this is what I want you to see

I am that dragon... You think all my words are out to melt and burn

You think I am strong enough and big enough to take on your drowning waves you think I've earned

But I am a Paper Dragon... I look strong and fierce... But I can rip so easily

A simple motion of pulling me in different directions can bring the end of me

I run to you with my webbed wings spreaded across the sun burst sky

Greeting you with a firey smile, and a glowing warm heart... And yet I'm despised

A sword is impaled through all the scales you assumed were tough

They surrendered as easily as paper... And down I went...only wanting to be loved

I am Paper Dragon... I'm not dangerous... I'm not evil or bad!!!

I am of creation!!!  If I use my ferious fire on you, it is to protect me from you... Which is sad...

I have been Labeled... Along with the things I create

Isn't it amazing? This majestic paper king of the fire in the sky... Can't you relate?

You call it a demon... You call it a mimic and a mockery of purity and light

... I AM A PAPER DRAGON, BLACK AND WHITE WINGS SPREAD WIDE AND BRIGHT

... If you don't want the fire the Lord has gifted me with to melt your ice...

Then alright... But I won't allow your waves to soak me and wash away this life...

I'll be perched on a hight mountain top, looking over you and your waves from a far distance...

You wonder why I'm so far away...  Why you feel so much resistence...

My glowing charcoal eyes you can still see... You grow more confused and ticked!!!

All because... Of this Paper Dragon Conflict...

In sleep you find comfort
In your crafts you find inspiration
In your pets you find love
But in the people you love
And who love you back
You find criticism
Short tempered
And anoyyed
In the presence of a Stranger
God forbids you speak up
You would take the word of a stranger that would comment about your appearence
But from the ones who love you a chuckle of disbelief escapes your breath
My love yes
I do wonder of our
F
U
T
U
R
E

today someone asked me what my mother was like
I hesitated
Do I talk about her appearence
About how life and the heat of Jamaica has watered her down to a mere 110 pounds
or about how her lovely mischievious eyes have sunken, aching to escape this world
or maybe about the way she looked at me with pain and remorse because she can't provide a meal
No I should talk about her personality
I should tell them she's very family oriented
She will gladly con any man and spew sweet lies into their ear if it means putting food on the table
And that she loves to dress me up as if I'm a doll and take me out like I'm the only prize she has ever won in her life
I should definitely tell them that she has become the men that hurt her
Now all she does is lie and leave
I will tell them she has given up on all hope of finding true love
And that the only thing that gets her through life is her Bible and a knife
I ponder all these things but I just finally say
"She's nice"

The shadow of my growing pain, will cast upon your helping hand,
But fear not, friend, i'll rise again, until it's meant to be the end.

On the lights, they flicker bright, it's make believe, what we can see,
But turn them off, and hold your breath, for shadows cast the strongest beams.

Get on that horse, the light would say, as dawn would fade the lightest
At the moon's appearence, you see what's real, For shadows are the Brightest.

leaves are falling
just like me
beauty in appearence
just like me
carried away
just like me
stepped on
just like me
soon to be forgotton
just like me
leaves are falling
just like me

Look the yellow butterfly on jasmine
Black dots on its papery wings
Giving it appearence like a queen
I want to touch it my  heart just sings

Attracted by the jasmine's fragrance
******* its nectar in a calm manner
Without producing any sound any menace
Its stealing my heart away like a robber

I said Why don't you sit on my palm
Butterfly replied you just want to me capture
You are attracted by my charm
I am not a pleasing creature

The love of jasmine is so true n pure
Which is far behind your imagination
You  love outer beauty i am sure
Stop chasing me  i am not your destination
..

  let me go don't stop my way
Leaving thousand of questions in my mind
the butterfly flew far away
Now the answers i have to find..

In my world,
The Sun won’t shine like it used to be.
The Moon does not make an appearence due to anxiety.
Stars don’t fall for the reason they’re afraid of giving false hope to humanity.

As from where i stand,
The sky is coming for us,
bringing judgement from above.

Dear my parallel existence,
if you’re reading this could you tell me your world?

my eyes caught a fallen angel singing when the sky was grey
a blurred appearence, slowly fading away as i felt the water dripped
was the sky begging for its brightest star to come back?
never once in my life i was lost at words for something so ethereal
he was appearing before my eyes like a real dream
i could touch him whenever but he was out of my reach
i probably, probably could cry out all night
trying to hold the image of perfection in my arms
oh but the world knew how i failed miserably
it was indeed all my fault, to fall without being aware
for a fallen angel

- n, 2014.

.as ever, some memorable lines bumping like atoms in my head, and instead of a pen and paper handy, or a keyboard, all i have is a mouth full of toothpaste, shampoo in my hair, a Popeye's squirm, one hand washing my genitals and the other holding the shower (handle), replying aloud to "the third person": what?!

... and after that? a whole array of punctuation
marks: drying yourself,
remembering the last conversation
from yesterday,
                 '****, this would be a waste
of a **** fine bottle of amber-glug...'
                            (not that it matters)...
'this might as well be a dial-up modem!'
  again: punctuation marks...
    putting your pinky finger into
the pinky end of a glove to dry out your
ears before putting in the headphones and
plugging in...
   what will it be today...
   jazzy cosmopolitan feel....
or airy, haunting, indie cosmopolitan
nostalgia -esque -esque of a missing
   prefix?
              ah...
   (i still find horror movie soundtracks
the most ideal lullabies...
   forget about Strauss dying
                              with a lack of
     contentment at not being able to write
a serious piece of work...
  well... if you're going to be a waltz-poodle
for the Habsburgs...
   you're going to be a waltz-poodle
till your fingerprints are no more...
   and you die a death by macaroons...
in a room filled with: white lilies...
as a joke: Strauss, waking upon
the deathbed:
    any of you ******* put those
chrysanthemums near me! i swear!
    better throw some fallen autumn leaves
from the park! i've never encountered
the scent of a rotting fern...
but these flowers just about do it!)
      ha!
this would have been a waste of a good
bottle of whiskey...
why didn't i encounter this prior...
   toiling in what ended up being something
of a cough medicine in terms
       of: well... something or other.
- unless i remember what it was...
    however many pockets in a day...
Nietzsche and pockets...
         or rather the film starring jim carrey,
dark crimes...
         and... yeah... that filter layer...
that something like this happens...
   but then turned into a movie...
     well... that doesn't exactly hide what
is made into an elaborate fiction:
working from a very base beginning...
like metallurgy...
      reality is the base ore... crude...
  un-rehersed...
  until it is subjected to... refinement...
  but that isn't the point:
       what is Heidegger's
    dasein in relation to journalism
in relation to post-journalism as in:
the film industry?
       which deviates from a mere "existence"
(out of every instance...
  my variety of ex-instance [E, A...
O... what's the difference?]
     there's an insistence) -
   and becomes... presence...
            or rather...       concern...
otherwise known as: the murky wood...
synonymous a variety of
other psychoanalytical metaphors...
yet in a film like 4.5/10 IMDb starring
jim carrey (well **** me!
    6.5 IMDb nicholas "8mm" cage!)
       that... dasein aura that journalism
cannot capture:
   as if we're supposed to be repeatedly
shocked by what "doesn't" happen:
when it clearly happens...
        en masse journalism:
frankly? i prefer the anaesthetic prior
to my tooth being drilled...
                     alternatively:
the film industry has made me
dasein ******...
                                      like gaining
access to a third eye that's in
the back of my head:
   and a ego-"personna"
           that capitulates to the role
of puppeteer:
   whereby the cognitive essence of
"thought" is: third person...
                   or... akin to the movie
get out:
                  always that one shutter-close
prior to: no other eventuality.
- besides that!
   already criticism:
nagging nagging, pampering
to... der geliebt leßer...
                     my ***: to some
coffee-mug "whining rhyming" poetics...
- but sure as ****...
you can make a fine, fine cauliflower
soup... as long as you add fried
   chouriço sausage to it...
  (χoυριςo) - which has clearly
entombed an orthographic error:
            correction - χoυρισo -
yes... every roman in italics:
is just as well (in appearence) greek -
but guess what!
   ever see a Greek write Greek?
i mean: handwriting...
                    even i inquired...
crux?

                Υ                        Ν

- is that an N?
- no... that's a U...
- "huh?!"

mind you: they do look pretty similar,
and i am more used to Vv(5)...
                                      ν / υ

and that was a real life scenario...
back on the 23rd of November 2018...
Warsaw...
     and giving directions
to get from Modlin (aiport)
               to Warsaw (central)...

still... a whole jar of coffee...
  and thankfully there's double cream in
the house... at 30% fat...
what coffee isn't a Hollywood coffee?

- and then there's that...
thought from the shower...

           honest to god...
give me the 1950s / 1950s-esque
   technicolor movies...
   eastmancolor - or whatever you want
to name them...
that very specific tinge...
acrylic...
   and you can hide all the CGI
and all the phosphorescent neon
             80s optic-**** festivities...
and those panoramic one shot
scenes... where a man on horseback
travels from one end of the panorama
to the other: and there is no cutting
             involved: no sub-movie editing...

mind you:
i'm still trying to find the sort of person
that could epitomize
   being more inclined to read
comic books... than watch a movie...

  coffee and cream... coffee and cream...
and a wintry afternoon.

Insecure

Insecure can be defined by many things. For one, if someone has to constantly repeat how great or attractive they think they are, clearly they're not entirly sure about it. They might be trying to convince themselves it's true. 2nd, they lie. A lot. This is because they're too ashamed of their own lives to except them for what they REALLY are, so they make up people and situations in order for their lives to sound a little more exciting. 3rd, they're easy. As in, they would go to third base on a first date. They need either a lot of guys or girls approval in order to be confident with their appearence, love life, exct. And lastly, they put other people down. They'll make an unecessary, rude comment and try to pass it of as a joke. Call them out on it and they'll say that they really don't care. But if they're even taking the time to respond, then they obviously do.  

The insecure man really needs to get over herself.