(via phatphilosophers)

(via phatphilosophers)

(via phatphilosophers)
jeffrey-lebowski:

Untitled by Yayoi Kusama.
Acrylic on canvas, 45.5 x 38.0 cm. Signed and dated 1993
jeffrey-lebowski:
Untitled by Yayoi Kusama.
Acrylic on canvas, 45.5 x 38.0 cm. Signed and dated 1993
(via phatphilosophers)
“
These are the days that must happen to you.
Walt Whitman, from Leaves Of Grass (via violentwavesofemotion)
(via phatphilosophers)
18 HOURS AGO / LARMOYANTE
axiatonal:

Canola Flowers Field, China
axiatonal:
Canola Flowers Field, China
(via awaveofbliss)

(via awaveofbliss)

whatisadvertising:
What would modern technology and social networks look like if they were vintage ads
This is a post gathered Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, Skype, iMac, Nintendo Wii and Sony Playstation as if they were vintage ads.
(via thebronxisburning)
aplacetofindlife:

Someone Should Start Laughing
I have a thousand brilliant lies For the question: How are you?  I have a thousand brilliant lies For the question: What is God? If you think that the Truth can be known From words, If you think that the Sun and the Ocean Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,
O someone should start laughing! Someone should start wildly Laughing Now!- Hafiz
aplacetofindlife:
Someone Should Start Laughing

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
How are you?

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
What is God?

If you think that the Truth can be known
From words,

If you think that the Sun and the Ocean
Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,

O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly Laughing Now!

- Hafiz
(via cosmic-rebirth)

meditationsinwonderland:
Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche, We Should All Be Feminists
How could I not reblog this?
(Source: bakongo)
1 day ago – 234,004 notes

artismyempire:
gentledom:
A wonderful analogy.
What I shall do today.
(Source: boyqueen, via thebronxisburning)
1 day ago – 30,054 notes

(Source: maryhadalittleblunt, via awaveofbliss)
1 week ago – 81 notes
beachsloth:

SYNESTHESIA by Joshua Espinoza
                God watches everyone’s first kiss. Although God used to be an awesome God He’s been a bit lazier as the years have progressed. Long ago God felt that raining frogs on Egypt was cool. People were turned into pillars of salt for looking at the destruction of their towns. Now God isn’t into that whole vengeful thing. Rather He realizes the importance of free will and understands it is more important than any instruction manual.
                Dreams are the ultimate instructional manual. Sub-conscious hates being a sub. Sub-conscious wants to be dom-conscious. Unfortunately such things do not happen anymore. Drinking dreams from people is potentially delicious. Flab is the hallmark of a family man or woman. Their dreams have become realities. Mere impulses of creatures become vaguely self-sustaining then fully self-sustaining. Right in the heart is where the familial love lives. Floaters in the eyes are more than floaters. When one sees floaters they see ghosts. Floaters are ghosts for the vision-impaired.
                Afterlife is big into God. Death brings people closer to God. They live in God’s domain hoping for the best. From on high the angels live on the down low. Beneath angels are the exciting ones, the ones they can and do mess up. Humans are interesting for their ability to mess up all the time and somehow remain completely loved. Every human is made in God’s image. Once people come back to God they realize how much of their decisions were good, how the evil was more than counterbalanced by the good. Living in Earth tends to make people forget how fortunate they really are.
                The world hates leaving people behind. In Heaven everything is fine. From Heaven people can see themselves from light-years away. Such distance makes it easier to see what the right and wrong decision was. Death takes the people away. Online presences remain long after the body has left. Everything has a digital footprint entirely different from their real life footprint. Sometimes it is bigger and sometimes smaller. It depends on the lust for life.
                Kissing is a form of lust. Lips love each other. Lips like locking together. That is where the key to the heart comes from, from the lips. Words flow from the mouths of babes. Life means the words work well but the tones work better. Even babies understand the importance of tone. Words are meaningless. Tones are tender. People wrap themselves up in tones, in the environmental sounds that surround them for that is what it means to be alive: it means to interact.
beachsloth:
SYNESTHESIA by Joshua Espinoza
                God watches everyone’s first kiss. Although God used to be an awesome God He’s been a bit lazier as the years have progressed. Long ago God felt that raining frogs on Egypt was cool. People were turned into pillars of salt for looking at the destruction of their towns. Now God isn’t into that whole vengeful thing. Rather He realizes the importance of free will and understands it is more important than any instruction manual.
                Dreams are the ultimate instructional manual. Sub-conscious hates being a sub. Sub-conscious wants to be dom-conscious. Unfortunately such things do not happen anymore. Drinking dreams from people is potentially delicious. Flab is the hallmark of a family man or woman. Their dreams have become realities. Mere impulses of creatures become vaguely self-sustaining then fully self-sustaining. Right in the heart is where the familial love lives. Floaters in the eyes are more than floaters. When one sees floaters they see ghosts. Floaters are ghosts for the vision-impaired.
                Afterlife is big into God. Death brings people closer to God. They live in God’s domain hoping for the best. From on high the angels live on the down low. Beneath angels are the exciting ones, the ones they can and do mess up. Humans are interesting for their ability to mess up all the time and somehow remain completely loved. Every human is made in God’s image. Once people come back to God they realize how much of their decisions were good, how the evil was more than counterbalanced by the good. Living in Earth tends to make people forget how fortunate they really are.
                The world hates leaving people behind. In Heaven everything is fine. From Heaven people can see themselves from light-years away. Such distance makes it easier to see what the right and wrong decision was. Death takes the people away. Online presences remain long after the body has left. Everything has a digital footprint entirely different from their real life footprint. Sometimes it is bigger and sometimes smaller. It depends on the lust for life.
                Kissing is a form of lust. Lips love each other. Lips like locking together. That is where the key to the heart comes from, from the lips. Words flow from the mouths of babes. Life means the words work well but the tones work better. Even babies understand the importance of tone. Words are meaningless. Tones are tender. People wrap themselves up in tones, in the environmental sounds that surround them for that is what it means to be alive: it means to interact.
(via bluishtigers)
1 week ago – 74 notes

(Source: samsaranmusing)
1 week ago – 78 notes
maymonsturr:

My mantra.
maymonsturr:
My mantra.
(via cosmic-rebirth)
1 week ago – 568 notes
foxxxynegrodamus:

***
foxxxynegrodamus:
***
(Source: lnpfeed, via awaveofbliss)
1 week ago – 1,635 notes
cosmic-rebirth:

Live joyfully, make your life a dance, all the way to the grave.
cosmic-rebirth:
Live joyfully, make your life a dance, all the way to the grave.
(Source: cookiecarnival)
2 weeks ago – 22,305 notes
“The point is not to pay back kindness but to pass it on.”
– Julia Alvarez (via cosmic-rebirth)
(Source: amandaonwriting, via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 275 notes

(Source: diawf, via awaveofbliss)
2 weeks ago – 2,799 notes
bl4ckhippie:

Fly.
bl4ckhippie:
Fly.
(Source: rootsrukkus, via awaveofbliss)
2 weeks ago – 750 notes

(Source: lizzlizzcomics, via bluishtigers)
2 weeks ago – 110,456 notes
meditationsinwonderland:

ॐ flower child in Wonderland ॐ
meditationsinwonderland:
ॐ flower child in Wonderland ॐ
(Source: vegan-hippie)
2 weeks ago – 139,177 notes

(Source: jrich103, via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 4,848 notes

pleoros:
Helminadia Ranford - Guilin,China
(via hungryforworld)
2 weeks ago – 329 notes
designgather:

Oak Room
Andy Goldsworthy
designgather:
Oak Room
Andy Goldsworthy
(via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 286 notes
miguu:
don’t be afraid.
lean into your genius.
let your own brilliance support you.
you are something
we have all been waiting to know.
please.
(via bluishtigers)
2 weeks ago – 339 notes

odditiesoflife:
Amazing Jabuticaba Tree
This is an incredible tree that bears its fruit directly on the main trunks and branches of the plant, lending a distinctive appearance to the fruiting tree. The jabuticaba (Plinia cauliflora) is a fruit-bearing tree native to Minas Gerais and São Paulo in southeastern Brazil. Otherwise known as the Brazilian Grape Tree, the jabuticaba is grown for its purplish-black, white-pulped fruits. They can be eaten raw or be used to make jellies and drinks, including juice and wine.
They are wonderful trees to have and are fairly adaptable to most environments but they grow extremely slow. Jabuticaba flowers are white and grow directly from its trunk, just like its fruit. The tree may flower and fruit only once or twice a year, but when continuously irrigated, it flowers frequently and fresh fruit can be available year round in tropical regions.
Common in Brazilian markets, jabuticabas are largely eaten fresh; their popularity has been likened to that of grapes in the US. Due to its extremely short shelf-life, fresh jabuticaba fruit is very rare in markets outside of areas of cultivation. So if you are ever in Brazil, be sure to try the incredibly tasty fruit called jabuticaba.
source 1, 2
(via hungryforworld)
2 weeks ago – 1,462 notes

(Source: samsaranmusing)
2 weeks ago – 118 notes

(Source: rorycwhatsyourthesis, via samsaranmusing)
2 weeks ago – 130,113 notes
oecologia:

Star Trails over Matterhorn (Switzerland) by Felix Lamouroux.
oecologia:
Star Trails over Matterhorn (Switzerland) by Felix Lamouroux.
(via samsaranmusing)

burningveins:
multicolors:
benskid:
Know where you stand.
Wow
This is kinda creepy..
(via hungryforworld)
“
Do not think you will necessarily be aware of your own enlightenment.
Zen Master Dogen - (1200- 1253) AD (via samsaranmusing)
2 WEEKS AGO
101fuymemes:

COLLECTION OF awesome CLOUDS
101fuymemes:
COLLECTION OF awesome CLOUDS
(via roslynoberholtzerbddd)

itscolossal:
Planetary Structural Layer Cakes Designed by Cakecrumbs
“
Do not resist events that move you out of your comfort zone, especially when your comfort zone was not all that comfortable.
Alan Cohen (via raeraenjma)
(via awaveofbliss)
4 WEEKS AGO / THE-HEALING-NEST
so apt
so apt
(via awaveofbliss)

(via awaveofbliss)
treewellie:

"The area between Kluane Lake and Haines Junction, Yukon, skirting the great cordillera of the Wrangell / St. Elias Mtn. range, is commonly productive of these stacked lenticular clouds … In late summer, as the sun begins to set around 11 PM, it’s beautiful to see these unique clouds, which are higher in altitude than their surrounding companions, catching the last peach coloured rays of the sun."
treewellie:
"The area between Kluane Lake and Haines Junction, Yukon, skirting the great cordillera of the Wrangell / St. Elias Mtn. range, is commonly productive of these stacked lenticular clouds … In late summer, as the sun begins to set around 11 PM, it’s beautiful to see these unique clouds, which are higher in altitude than their surrounding companions, catching the last peach coloured rays of the sun."
definitelydope:

BBQ on the balcony (by fernlicht)
definitelydope:
BBQ on the balcony (by fernlicht)
(via awaveofbliss)

Birth by Alex Grey
Birth by Alex Grey
(via receptive)

(via bluishtigers)

(via awaveofbliss)
“
There is a time and place for decaf coffee. Never and in the trash.
(via 17yr)
(via hungryforworld)
1 MONTH AGO / MIDWESTRAISEDMIDWESTLIVING
surreelust:

Man with His Skin by Peter Zokosky
surreelust:
Man with His Skin by Peter Zokosky
(via cosmic-rebirth)
“
Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You have seen your own strength.
You have seen your own beauty.
You have seen your golden wings.
Of anything less,
why do you worry?
You are in truth
the soul, of the soul,
of the soul.
Rumi, from Who Am I?   (via bluishtigers)
(via bluishtigers)
1 MONTH AGO / VIOLENTWAVESOFEMOTION
xpudding:

xpudding:
(via cosmic-rebirth)

(via thebronxisburning)

(via cosmic-rebirth)
treewellie:

La costa de la luz by Francisco Mingorance
treewellie:
La costa de la luz by Francisco Mingorance

itscolossal:
Mirror City: A Kaleidoscopic Timelapse of Chicago, San Francisco, San Diego, Vegas and L.A. [VIDEO]

(via cosmic-rebirth)

awkwardsituationist:
gmb akash documents the 350 kilometre journey from dhaka to sylhet, bangladesh made by those who, unable to afford the price of a ticket or find room to ride inside, risk death by traveling atop and between train cars
(via suntochukwu)
purpleaggregates:

White Tara The female enlightened being of long life, wisdom and good fortune When I see the signs of untimely death, May I immediately receive the blessings of Arya Tara; And, having destroyed the Lord of Death, May I quickly attain the deathless vajra body. OM TARE TUTTARE TURE MAMA AYUR PUNAYE GYANA PUTRIM KURU YE SÖHA OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SÖHA
purpleaggregates:
White Tara
The female enlightened being of long life, wisdom and good fortune

When I see the signs of untimely death,
May I immediately receive the blessings of Arya Tara;
And, having destroyed the Lord of Death,
May I quickly attain the deathless vajra body.

OM TARE TUTTARE TURE MAMA AYUR PUNAYE GYANA PUTRIM KURU YE SÖHA
OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SÖHA
(via dancingdakini)

(via guerrillatech)
hungryforworld:

Monet’s Garden. Givery, France.
hungryforworld:
Monet’s Garden. Givery, France.

(via awaveofbliss)

(via cosmic-rebirth)
“
Internal and external are ultimately one. When you no longer perceive the world as hostile, there is no more fear, and when there is no more fear, you think, speak and act differently. Love and compassion arise, and they affect the world.
Eckhart Tolle (via samsaranmusing)
(via suntochukwu)
1 MONTH AGO / SAMSARANMUSING
malformalady:

The golden spiral of fungus. In geometry, a golden spiral is a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor is φ, the golden ratio. That is, a golden spiral gets wider (or further from its origin) by a factor of φ for every quarter turn it makes.
Photo credit: Devin Raber
malformalady:
The golden spiral of fungus. In geometry, a golden spiral is a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor is φ, the golden ratio. That is, a golden spiral gets wider (or further from its origin) by a factor of φ for every quarter turn it makes.
Photo credit: Devin Raber
(via deeperthansoul)
polaroidsf:

Welcome to Eden
polaroidsf:
Welcome to Eden

(via bouddra)
“
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of
meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for
your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me

Every person in this world has a name. Of course, the first thing in life that makes us all different is our name. Or names, perhaps. I know someone who has four names, Marie France Antoinette Anne. I’m friends with someone who has 3 names, Eivram Jan Heaven. Even though 3-4 names are probably hard to have, it’s kind of amazing because it adds a lot to your singularity. And the best example of them all are two names, my best friend’s name is Khelsy Gayle, my eldest sister’s: Christina Andrea, my other sister’s name is Francesca Julia and my name is Kelly Denise. And we all here, don’t even bother to deny it, has a nickname. My best friend’s name is Chellsie and everybody calls her Che. Both of my classmates are both Joshua, and they only have one name, so my teacher, in order for us to not be confused, decided to call the one who has a surname that starts with C, JC and the surname that starts with D, JD and until now we still call them by those names. And in some cases, we pick nicknames by different choices. My eldest sister’s nickname is Zoe and my other sister’s nickname is Franny because my mom loved JD Salinger so much that she named my sisters from her favourite fictional siblings. Maybe my mother wasn’t expecting me, so she didn’t name me from an iconic literary character, or a famous philosopher. Instead, she called me with a nickname that I will be known till the day that I die, it’s called ‘Keidy’. And, to be honest, I hate that nickname. But hey, I have no choice. Or we can all be known for the things that we did. Daenerys Targaryen has a lot of names, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, Protector of the realm and so on and so forth. Or you can be Arya Stark, who is  No One. An example of a name that people force to be known as but they will never achieve because she will always be Arya Stark of Winterfell.

You see, names are wonderful. It's a proof that everyone in this world, is different. And what a magical thing it is, living in the same world with different people who have different views. And to mention, same views. We all here share same views, and maybe, some of us here even share the same name.

But in every woman’s life, we share the same names. People call us with names that we don’t even have. Each of us have been called or will be called these names.


You will call us, doll. You told us we have so much cuteness in us and we are as beautiful as dolls, and we don’t have any problem with that. Little did we know that some of you don’t really admire our beauty but instead think of us as toys. Toys that you can control, toys that you think would do everything that you want. You will teach us what that we should do, you will teach us what to say and how we should act, you will teach us everything like you own us. And after we do everything that you told us to you will call us good girls.  Good girl,  continue following me.  Good girl,  get ready for more, like we are toys. But of course, you will not call us toys because girls and toys are the same for you, right?

We were taught to be clean, we were raised to be pure. That chastity is the most important thing that every woman should have. And for sure, you all want our purity, but when we disagree like we were taught to you will call us prudes. ***** for choosing who I open up to. ***** for not letting you inside my temple when I am the landlord making choices.  ***** for saying no, because your ego is far more important than my consent. And when we say yes, you will call us *****. Choosing what to do to your own body is a not a thing you should do. Expressing your sexuality is a sin to this world when you’re the one who does it. A woman’s pleasure, is not a real thing. Because we’re not allowed to have one, because we are known for giving one. We are known as ******, as women who are not clean and pure. Who spend their lives offering their bodies like they're the only thing that we can offer. You will shame us for being filthy and disgusting when you’re the reason why we are here in the first place. We are here to pleasure you, to give you what you want. But when we are the ones who would like to experience it, the world suddenly goes mad. We should not experience any pleasure but they can all the time. And when we finally speak for what’s right, our names will suddenly become *******. A ***** for speaking up, a ***** for doing the thing that I should have done ages ago, a ***** for fighting back. A ***** for being strong to be able to remove the tight grip of your hands to my mouth that has been keeping it shut, a ***** for removing the word ’silence’ in my vocabulary, a ***** for being brave to destroy the power that have kept me powerless for a long time.

Woman, I agree that we should be called names. We should be known as fire, a fire so powerful that can lit up the entire world, and burn you for playing with us the entire time. We are warriors fighting for the right thing, warriors that are strong enough to combat all the wrong doings. We are magic,we can do things that everyone never expected we could. Our mind, is the most beautiful place anyone will ever come across.
We are women, and that one word, is more than enough to make people know our value. Woman, the next time they will call you names you do not approve of, tell them. Woman, the next time they lecture you with the things you should do knowing you have your own decisions in life, **** them with your independence. Woman, make them tremble when they realise you are one. Woman, prove them all wrong. Woman, the next time they belittle you; do not let them.

Clear, simple blue skies.
Unnerving negative space.
A girl decorates.

She stitches and glues.
Flying machines of all kinds.
A girl must create.

Colors shade sunlight.
Wind gifts them the breath to dance.
A girl must hold on.

She pulls a heart string,
Knots this to her creations,
A girl unravels.

To the skies, she goes
Free in flight, she whips and spins.
A girl, so rootless.

Burn brighter than the fire around you
Take what is yours with fire and blood
Answer injustice with justice
You said he's a scurrilous?
Tell him, "The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands."
Scream " Dracarys" and succumb the world of sinisters with your fire.
You're Daenerys Stormborn, the unburnt, the refuser of Patriarchy.
So ask the world to bend their knee.

One who touches your loved one
Destroy him for the sake of your wine.
Get as bad as you can if it's about people who are your life
This world is no more of sword or blood, it's of strategies and vengeance.
Know that everyone who isn't you, is an enemy.
Tell them you're Cersei Lannister, the epitome of strength and power.
And in this "game of respect" you win or you die. There's no middle ground.

Learn to fight alone.
Be as swift as a deer and quiet as a shadow.
Quick as a snake and clam as still water.
Be confident of your skills.
Mark every man's name who once even thought of hurting you.
Recite them every night.
You're Arya Stark and you're a savage.
Ask them to **** every Arya from this world if they want to **** because
"Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe."
You've a long way to go
Today isn't the day you lose.

You shouldn't have teased this lil' princess
You made my skin turn to porcelain, to ivory, to steel
No one could have ever loved you the way I did.
I can even love and die for a monster.
But do not mistake my innocence as my weakness.
I am Sansa Stark and I am one the wolves and I can survive the coldest night better than you. You taught me how to.
I am a slow learner but I do learn.

Oh! I forgot to give the disclaimer.
Game of thrones fan would understand it better.
And if you're not a fan, that's not a matter.
It's all about throne, women and their power.
And this world is all about evils, women and their power.

Don't name the baby Arya.
It's such a lie to do that now.
Name her after pornstars.
Name your daughter Stoya.
That's named after a real influencer
Named after a somebody
Glittered name of shiny bodies
Named after the highest view count online and off.
A muse name, someone everybody wants.

Let us not let **** names die.
It's ok to breed a Rocco
A name that wears a jive
Keeps art of namegiving alive

Just dont name them after politicians
Prostitutes and Liars
Dont name your kid after journalists
Drug dealers or musicians.

Let's stop those names popping up
George, Michael, Paul.
Quit the whole Beatles charade
Never were someone to look up to afterall.

Stop this rain of assh**e names
Like Boris, Donald, David, Ian.
Give the kids a wider range.

"Do you believe in love?"

she shook her head.

"Well, you know what love does to people—destruction," she whispered quietly.

his astonished eyes stared at her with wonder and confusion.

"Being in love means you'd be willing to sacrifice and risk everything for it; or even worse, fight against anything that against it. All my life, I only witnessed the kind of love that ruin one another."

"Look at Bonnie and Clyde. Look at ******'s love for his Arya race. Look at Confessions of a Shopaholic. Look at Gollum. There's a thin line between obsession and love, and sometimes you can't tell which one is which."

her eyes looked far across the city; as if she was longing for something. perhaps, he thought, it's true that woman is an open book, it's just most men don't read and it's written in ancient Greek.

"But how about your Mom? How about the owner of animal shelter? How about the Environmentalist? How about the firefighters and crisis call center officers?" he responded.

and in that very moment, she knew she was in safe hands.

oh: before the ******* get a chance to fire me,
resign me, whatever you want to call it,
i will go "out of my way" and do the ***** task myself:

you can't exactly couple being promoted in
one venue and upkeep what used to be a juggling
act with an security agency to cover your
back by being picky-choosy (i swear an E is missing
in that word) sey not say not siy...
so a Dear Fulham Team letter is necessary to:
excuse myself from further engaging in shifts...

ARBEIT MACHT FREI...
i still can't stomach the truthful irony of those words...
if only the **** employed the Hebs
in concentration camps to make ammunition
instead of telling them to lift bags
of sand from X and moving them to Y
and then from Y back to X for this macabre
circus-prison of sadism without *** being deployed...
*** as in: the act of ***...

weird sushi... weird sushi "thinking"...
but a welcome return to ice age barbarism...
how this return to "default" taught some of us:
conscious of the unconscious...
only recently, fervently, on Kauai...
i learned, intimately,
that the reason i don't conjure pictures / movies
in my dreams is, because:
i startle the sleeper next to me
applying myself to propping up like
an exorcism manifest woodoo (V for ****
you French ***** by the Velsh
                  longbowmen: adieu! my slingshot works
just fine... merdechiens: mèreconnards!

hey hey! orthographic police...
mère but not mèrde...
         hey! Napoleon! fix this...
    no? o.k. i'll fix it...
            it's not (after all) merdé... i known that in French
you utilise diacritical accents to cut off
using distinct, direct, phoneticism of: the use of letters...
because the ****** tongue is the only
Arya equivalent of any spoken European: tongue...
by pride or detail alone...

by the command of the druid skies of England
with white and clot
and with rain also akin to milk
this milk of misery and some geographic whereabouts
like Olson's Gloucester (Glow-Mr)
of New England or Maine...
poets of worth become periodical:
autobiographical in detail: because i should
notice their influence on me...

           just like i can make a summary of my engagement
with Edie Edith and compare that
to the laments of Kierkegaard in Either / Or
about the necessity of a married life...
because touch is a language in and of itself
and only yesterday we spoke for nearly 2h about...
intellectual stuff...
           "stuff"...
                  bouts of depression in Oregon...
something new to me...
i admired Picasso's pink and blue but never thought
she had experienced such pitchy domineering men...

pitchy? no... ah... an F in      pithy...
that's an F in piTHy...       (by aid no e, yet y: yeti!)
               fret over feta in thought and beta:
but no...
post-modernism is still alive and very much decent
of me to keep it so...
i.e. alive...

           to rise to the grandiosity of names listed in the song
by the Dead Can Dance (fortunate the man with none):
Solomon, sagacious, to him complexities seemed plain,
he cursed the hour of his birth, vanus, vanus, alles hohl...
Caesar, courageous,
Socrates, honest, the man who never lied...
            they weren't so grateful... instead the rulers
fixed him a trial...

English should be written with more apostrophes
can can be known...
for example, Tottenham...
which does not utilise all the letters in the script
written... but is like haven't for have not O
omitting a letter or a syllable altogether...
Tot"ñ"'am...
                Tot'ym'um'am
Tot'nudge­-nudge'am...

                            Fulham is easier:
  Ful'am...       the genius approach of the English tongue
is the apostrophe: which is a letter eater...
because in writing it is written as: FULL-HAM
but is uttered-ushered as Ful'am...
                oh how ***** Wonka of me to have this second
tongue as a plaything as a "gimp" as this
pedophilic fetish fantasy...
    my Pontius Pilate is currently obsessed with
Islamic cleanliness before a prayer:

i too: am washing my hands clean...
before i make no prayer...
just give a deity a thought... thought...

i can obsess about the English: ing-leash for almost forever...
given two eyes two arms two ears...
moving forward everyone in the future should know
a minimum of two tongues...
that's the precursor for the advent of national /
geographic capitulation... to the soft machine
of capitalism... the hard machines are there
regardless of whether it's the soft machine
of capitalism or communism...
computer computer on my desk...
who's the smartest idiot of the rest?
but in the future two tongues for every man...
at least to levitate from any potential symptoms
of schizophrenia...
   how do you think i "cured" myself from auditory
hallucinations?
if i heard splinter-ego vanities in English...
i started to confuse / conflate the symptoms by
reaching out to my mutterzunge....

by now America should be a bilingual nation,
speaking both fluent English and Spanish...
just like England should be a bilingual nation
speaking English and German...
i already know that Poland is sort of a Switzerland
of the Slavic world...
and i will not speak ***** Cyrillic Russian...
because to me: when i hear it...
Russian is a half-formed Polish...
it ******* sounds barbaric... even the phonetic encoding
is half-baked... M and A stand out like sore thumbs
aesthetically ugliest of all...

oh my toy my little Shakespeare psychoanalysis:
i did tell her... not all psychopaths turn out
to be geniuses at killing, serially...
i too lament the primo disguise of psychopaths:
faking competence...
they fake being competent in work...
ask one for profiteroles you might end up
with an East End steak and ale pie...
but that's me being hyperbolic...

               such is the joy of utilising a tongue without
having any geographical or historical lineage
attached to it... even my accent can't be equipped
with a regional bias: so i speak a generic,
"educated" (more self than school),
cosmopolitan English of... Lóndûn...
not on a Loan, Don...
              Qix...                Kich... Kichote
kichać? to sneeze... Pan Kicham...
  
                                           Sir Sneeze-a-lot...

because there's a fury in my genius that
decided to **** of both the guardian angel and demon
and spare god a bias with regards to what's
good or what's bad
given that this third party of creatures
are akin to angels and demons, yet stricter in
revealing their presence having sought out
a potential in man...

and with the ego going into the compartment of: exists
does not exist...
and with thought going into the compartment of:
essential or not essential...
because every ego is essential:
it's only a question whether it exists or doesn't...
but forever does: given that as fluidity
it can morph from reality to myth...
from journalism to history to poetry to allegory / myth...
to dream... to the archetypes...
of course the ego can replenish itself with
"reincarnations"... but an Achilles in a carwash?!
no...
that's what the Hindus got so wong... Rrrr... i call it a trill R
journalists in England call it a... a... *******:
rhasp? no...                        whatever the Bristol crew yar ar
m'ah pirate...

i do believe in reincarnation...
isolated case of 'cogito'...
         oh sure as **** 'cogito': prompt - limbless verb
to do: thought... think...
      cogitatio...
                         ratio of cogs... that's essentially
"reincarnated"... which is god...
        the universal quest of Q / ?

      who is a distinct figure to I or the existentialist
isolation of I via "I"...
because Q is like a shadow of I
                       who is the ego in the collective unconscious
of Jungian ******-analytical philosophy /
    psychological sophistry...
the Q is the I in the collective unconscious...

I have a Q... i am (not i'm ayemmm) I A'H MMM
a Q in the collective unconscious,
just like everyone else...
i can do I in third person but
obviously doing Q in third person is more natural
and less intrusive should the trans-gang
of confused genitals
come to the fore of the meta-gang of...
                             is bad *** such a massive issue
that it has to turn political...
i always tried to have *** good enough not to later
script it as a fantasy of having *** with vampires...

thinking is recycled... reincarnated...
we all arrive at its plateau...
and let's face it... we daydream and therefore thinking
can be recycled...
as the primo tool of exacting a definition of
being aware, conscious...
it's the most ridiculous "tool"...
thinking is like a sponge without soap...
it just moves dirt from one place on the body to another...
the sword of Damocles if you were:
but a parody of that sword...

to deviate from giving quench (of thirst)
driven by existential "demands": that current man,
the modern, hyperbolic contemporary,
the journalist with an opinion column in
the editorial section of a newspaper is,
"somehow"(?) the arbiter of truthfulness
and all that is sacred to the otherwise wordly-politico
jargon ball-crushing gimmick
and the licking scrutiny of H-Bomb Contraceptive-Pill
synonimity...
hmm...

       the Hindus "maybe" forgot the cyclic nature
of thought and the linear nature of the ego...
no one is going to be "reborn" or "replaced"...
the constituent ontology of this little thing
called life: res es vivo...
not theologia in vitro... but theologia in vivo...
well... with the "polytheism" of the many schisms
of Christianity: each a "god" unto his own...
because how else to explain

NARRATIO FALSUS
of christianity: what chimera was born on the torture
chamber of Golgotha that can't:
be: no: longer: romanticised!
what was once a primer for original sin
that became the primer for original innocence...
this macabre inversion of toothpicks
and how bones can and will itch
should one have the wrong sort of protein
lodged in-between...
"christ" ushered in the concept of original innocence...

where?! where is his guilt made justifiable
by all the hoard of jurisprudence standards
kept...
to... yield 2000 years of history based off of
a fictive friction is... frankly? besides me...
and i'm not referring to this Greco-Hebrew conspiracy
anti-Rome conspiracy as a joke
in the slightest...

so few might consider themselves Gnostics...
but i'm done with these Christmassy blues
like winter is somehow a depressing...
it has occured countless times...
it reminds me of when
the snow fell and the nights were blue
and the snow like ivory
fell and sank into a melt(ing)...

       by then i will want Reyla to know from
Edie that i baked her a birthday cake
and that she shouldn't have worried about
her peers not attending her birthday party:
because they did and the pool party was in full swing
and the strawberries were juicy and
i was not a ******* after all (because pedohplia
is a male-exclusive gimmick
for branching out to seek less
translatable munchkin-fetishes?)

what with Reyla's father being, ****-tod-dead...
you'd think i might want to champion
a borrowed ambition from ancient Rome
regarding the surrogacy of offspring...
my genes are unimportant...
but if i can allow a truce with
the ROTA EX COGITATIO...
the wheel of thought... not... no... not the wheel
of fortune... thinking is cyclic...
that's why we encounter the same questions
universally...

yes, some of us are overpowered by the geniuses
to compromise with Promethean advances
for the better of all of us...
but the rest is daydreams
lazy-thinking and a recurrency of dreams...
thinking is a soft-machine...

the circle out of thinking... rota ex cogitatio...
i for i alike...
             to my left and right a deposit of her:
for her liking... by call of swan:
a song of death...
              by wake i imply death and eyes that close:
this dirge... a barge and a chuckle from
Charon... that broken oar...
a bit like a fiddle-stick in a teacup that's
also a river should sugar be dissolved in it...

because it is love that makes me feel magnificent,
invonlunerable: invulnerable...
because it is love that gives me organs for a body
otherwise without (them)...
because it is love and moreover a lover's longing
that gives me double the love and
what oh love will i ever do with this
irrational-ability but dig my trenches and hark
and puff and shatter mirrors and clause
illusions into the mix and keep this:
dearest affection dearest hope dearest dark of
shadow mingle truth
            cauldron of ingredients with pulled out
teeth to mix with frog burps...

ah... now for that letter... i'd rather resign than be fired...
it's painfully obvious:
regardless of what my earnings might be...
if i can be appreciated as competent in one place
but not another:
i'm no sufler statistician for a theatre with:
no production...

the letter:

Dear Fulham Team,

It comes with a deep seeded regret that I have to compromise with these words to compose a Resignation Letter: as to my future as a Fulham F.C. employee.

Since the end of Lockdown circa 2021 Fulham F.C. has provided me with ample opportunities to hone in on my hidden strengths in interacting with the public via working for Executive Events Security - as you might be aware, for whatever reason, the agency decided to terminate the contract - yet with the implosive power of nostalgia I felt inclined to reapply for a job with the club directly.

To somehow reiterate my original stance, it brings me great regret having to write this Letter of Resignation - I have recently been given the opportunity to fill a Supervisory position at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. I have checked future dates for the season and noticed a "coincidental" clash of shifts for F.F.C., Tottenham Hotspur F.C. (and West Ham United - I am still employed at the agency that provides services for this venue).

The only available shifts I could make myself opportune would be with a West Ham F.C. clash, yet given my recent promotion at Tottenham Hotspur F.C. and the 80% demand of attendance given my position - I would not be able to juggle allegiance to two clubs as I might have done through an agency without a self-inflicted parody of interests.

To make my argument more solid, Tottenham Hotspur F.C. will allow me to exert more responsibility and also offer me more shift-times than I'm currently able to receive at F.F.C., given the venue is partaken to events outside the realm of a football season.

I simply couldn't allow myself to leave this matter unresolved, hoping that somehow I could do a patchwork of the choicest of availabilities, relegating F.F.C. as second choice whenever clashing with Tottenham.

Yet, I must stress the importance that F.F.C. played toward building my awareness to the importance of this profession, through my 2 year experience of starting this profession, I can, without any hesitation (and therefore doubt) confirm that, being a fan of the sport that's football, therefore being ultimately neutral when it comes to the sordid affair of team-tribalism, on numerous occasions, at other venues and indeed at Craven Cottage, I have earnestly expressed the following sentiment:

I'm not a fan of any football team as such, technically I should be a West Ham or a Dagenham & Redbridge fan - from a geographical standpoint of adhering to the geo-politics of 'nearest therefore dearest'... but I will always remain a fan of Fulham fans... because they are the fans that imbue a need for reciprocating a base human decency, unmet on any other football venue.

I hope I have made my notice as amicable as possible - in my mind it would be unfair to remain on the payroll wishfully thinking that my absenteeism was NOT because of a conflict of interests due to work elsewhere, therefore I'd rather hand in my resignation due to this, than have someone from the team "call me out" on the matter.

As ever and with a deep-seeded regret, I hope I have become across as transparent and in that: doubly regretful, for having bothered you with giving me employability, yet having to resign.

Kind Regards

Mateusz Elert