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Harsh Dec 2012
'Brussels sprouts'...
The only healthy addition on a plate of Christmas dinner,
because even the carrots are tempered in butter,
but I never serve myself any,
'cause I couldn't give a **** about being healthy.
At one point I was eating roast potato with mashed potato
and everything else was covered in gravy, so...
I'm a very bad girl who avoid what's good.
I stay up real late and snack on junk food.
On night outs I drink to get drunk,
mixing all the spirits to heighten my *****.
Liver abused,
dressed to ******,
dancing like a stripper on the Vegas strip,
grinding, shaking, dropping, moving, all hard to resist.
Then there's the social smoking, and a few smoked alone.
Hush, about the latter. No one needs to know.
All the Friday nights, the strange men, in my bed.
What am I looking for? 'Cause it's sure as hell ain't ***.
Boycotting church for the past few weeks,
but my mom doesn't know so don't let it leak
that I'm a bad girl, that I've changed, that I'm lost,
that in trying to find myself, the soul was the ultimate cost.
That naive, innocent girl who ran into the world with open arms,
appears to have misplaced that certain charm.
She stares back through the mirror eyes clouded with pain,
because each time I tried to stand up society struck again.
So, I'm a very bad girl. Really very bad.
I spend my time wrestling guilt, and it drives me mad.
This poem is the sole property of me and cannot be copied or used without permission. [Copyright G.H. Rodrigo 09/12/2012]
"What tempature does love freeze?"
asked the five year old ice scientist.
Her character sheet read: "Mage".
She preferred "Scientist".

In the beginning we said "An Ice Scientist can freeze anything!"
So she asked "How cold?".
Google told us "-300 degrees Celcius".
The Ice Scientist spent the rest of Dungeons and Dragons
discovering the Freezing points
of
"ALL OF THE THINGS!"

"I want to stop the Bard
by freezing the Queens love"

Roll for it.

"Nat 20"

The Queens love freezes.
She refuses the bards advances.

"YES! ...Wait, What tempature?"

70 degrees.
Love may freeze at any tempature.

"At 211.5 Degrees Celsius, Adrenaline Freezes.
Did you know that?
Your heart stops racing,
No more sweat, dry mouth.
The initial fight or flight reaction slows.
you see less red."

"Mom stopped buying Epi-pens;
they're only sold in packs of two,
said she's "Boycotting epinephrines codependency"."

"Adrenaline helps your heart beat!
Did you know that?"

"At 128 degrees celcius Dopamine freezes.
Did you know that?
With desire frozen
no sense of reward
you sleep more, eat more, slip into depression.
You aren't addicted to anything anymore!
unmotivated!
upperless!"

"Mom gave up coffee,
gave up chocolate,
can't even have ***."

"Dopamine makes you happy!
Did you know that?"

"At 121 degrees celsius, serotonin freezes.
Your well-being crackles on a car window.
The remaining strands of happiness, form icicles!
You can't regulate your mood,
appetite, or sleep patterns.
You are unpredictable and sick!
Serotonin heals wounds,
did you know that?
with it frozen, the scars you've collected
stay open!"

"At 0 degrees celcius water freezes!
you are made of 50-60% water!
half of your body is FROZEN
at 0 degrees!
Did you know that?"

"At -2 degrees celcius human blood freezes.
Your hands go numb,
like when you have no gloves on?
Then your toes! Arms! legs!"

"I think I would like the numb feeling
being frozen,
like Elsa.
All those tingles are the blood warming up and moving around.
Did you know that?"


I didn't know any of that.
you're very smart.

"Yeah...
...What tempature does Oxygen Freeze?"

Well, munchkin, let's google it.
Oxygen freezes At -218.8 degrees celcius.

"I bet it's hard to breath with no oxygen,
like when we get panic attacks".

Yes munchkin,
our panic attacks
are like a frozen lung.

"Do you think beautiful trees have frozen lungs?"

Do you mean winter trees?
The ones that look like glass ornaments?

"Yes!
the beautiful ones!
Like me!
You said trees breath,
When they're all beautiful
Are they having panic attacks too?"

Some of them.
There's no way to tell them apart.
Remember, Munchkin.
Trees always thaw.

Like the Queens love.
Like my love for you.
It just takes time.
anonymous999 Feb 2014
when your daughter tells you that she has an eating disorder, believe her.
do not mock her, do not tell her she is wrong. though you could not hear her in the bathroom on her knees at christmas or on her birthday or after dinner, listen to her now.

know that after she reveals this and runs crying to her room that she will lie directly on her floor and place her ear to the carpet and she will hear you discussing her declaration like a bad movie, a critic to the fact that yes she still has all her teeth, but you do not know anything about disorders.

when your son mentions at the dinner table that your daughter thinks she may be depressed, do not shake your head. do not continue your meal, do not let her escape to her room immediately upon mention of the subject. do not shake your head, and do not continue your meal.

when you ask your daughter if she wants to see a psychiatrist and she does not say no, take her. make an appointment, do not cancel it. take her.

after an argument, when your daughter refuses to hug you, do not be offended. do not make a sarcastic remark about how she is "really helping the situation," that will not help the situation either. only know that she is hurt, and that she is only sixteen.

when you buy your daughter acne treatment and teeth whitener and brand new makeup and pore strips and she refuses to use them, do not yell. rather, attempt to fathom why your daughter may be boycotting your unrequested purchases, and try to find three things about her more important to you than her appearance.

when your daughter tells you that last night she sat in her closet for an hour so that she could be safe from you due to the way her her heart races and her palms sweat every time she hears the sound of your footsteps outside of her room, please reevaluate the way you talk to your daughter.

when your daughter tells you that she is sick and that she cannot go to school for the fifteenth separate time this semester, ask her about in what ways she is feeling ill, because one does not contract the flu fifteen separate days over the course of five months. that is not how the flu works. it is not likely that she has been physically ill to the point where she will lay in bed until past the time she was supposed to be getting home from school. do not accept the fact that she has a "headache" and do not let her tell you that she is just fine, because she is not.

when your daughter stays up all night doing homework but does not complete her work, do not nag at her. do not tell her that you and her father are "just waiting for her to have a mental breakdown" or to “stay out of your face when she loses her mind” like you know she will, do not tell her for the twentieth time to get her life together. it will not help her get her life together.

when your daughter tells you that she thinks she may be depressed, listen to her. do not fail to notice the words "years" or "finally".
do not simply forget about it, do not wake the next morning and assume that just because she is at the breakfast table eating her cereal that all is well. do not assume that last night she did not make a detailed plan to **** herself and that the only thing that stopped her was a line of a song, and a boyfriend.

when you notice that your daughter has stopped going out with friends, stopped going to practice and stopped trying in school, do not yell. do not lecture. try to predict what she may stop doing next. but do not yell.

do not say things like that she is “upsetting  your  household” statements like that make it very clear in the head of your daughter that the household she lives in is not also hers, and that you do not want her around. do not make careless statements in front of your teenage daughter.

though you may not know that the most common word in all of her google searches is “depression,” it should not take that for you to realize that she has a problem. though you did not see her ask the internet how many of her vitamins she would have to take until she could be sure she would not wake up, it should never have gotten this far.

do not tell her that you are sorry. it will be too late.
"What tempature does love freeze?" asked
a five year old ice scientist.
Her character sheet read: "Mage".
She preferred "Scientist".

"An Ice Scientist can freeze anything!" We said.
"How cold?".
"-300 degrees Celcius".
"-300 degrees Celcius".
The Ice Scientist spent
Dungeons and Dragons
and the entire next Year
asking us the Freezing point
of  EVERYTHING!

"I want to stop the Bard by
freezing the Queens love"

"Roll for it".

"Nat 20".

"The Queens love freezes
As she refuses the bards advances".

"YES! ...Wait,
What tempature?"

"70 degrees,"
"love can freeze at any tempature".

The adults burst into laughter.
The Ice Scientist smiled,
gleefully ignorant.

I fell silent.

At 211.5 Degrees Celsius, Adrenaline Freezes.
Did you know that?
Your heart stops racing,
No more sweat, dry mouth.
The initial fight or flight reaction slows.
you see less red.

Mom stopped buying Epi-pens;
they're only sold in packs of two,
said she's "Boycotting epinephrines codependency".

Adrenaline helps your heart beat!
Did you know that?

At 128 degrees celcius Dopamine freezes.
Did you know that?
With desire frozen and no sense of reward
you sleep more, eat more,
slip into depression.
You aren't addicted to anything anymore!
unmotivated!
upperless!

Mom gave up coffee,
gave up chocolate,
can't even have ***.

Dopamine makes you happy!
Did you know that?

At 121 degrees celsius, serotonin freezes.
Your well-being crackles on a car window.
The remaining strands of happiness,
form icicles!
You can't regulate your mood,
or appetite, or sleep patterns,
you are unpredictable and sick!
Serotonin heals wounds,
did you know that?
with it frozen, the scars you've collected
stay open!

At 0 degrees celcius water freezes!
you are made of 50-60% water!
half of your body is FROZEN at 0 degrees!
Did you know that?

At -2 degrees celcius human blood freezes.
Your hands go numb,
like when you have no gloves on?
Then your toes!
Arms!
legs!

"I think I would like the numb feeling"
"being frozen, like Elsa".
All those tingles are the blood
warming up and moving around.
Did you know that?

"No, I didn't know any that."

At -218.8 degrees celcius, oxygen freezes.
Breathes winter trees
into glass ornaments.
Each panic attack, a frozen lung.
A car exaust pipe duct taped inside your back window.
A crowbar against it attached to a friend
A friend who saves your life.
Without oxygen you turn purple.
Did you know that?

Dear Ice Scientist.
There is a cryogenic chamber
deep in my heart where you have slept
like that queens love,
set to thaw with an oven timer.
While you rest
I will set fire to the blankets you've used
like in-scents, prayer candles.
Taste you hot in my lungs
like cigarette smoke
if not for long, for memorial.
Your afgans burned to ashes.
Each night I still cover myself in them,
pull them over my head,
rub them into my eyes,
swallow them every morning
like vitamins, or mood - stabilizers
because as frozen as the
blood,
oxygen,
water in my body is,
your memories were cremated.
My addiction to you is cryogenic.
Walt disney won't bring you back to me,
you are no hologram.
I will be cold.
I will die in this winter
I know falling though thin ice
is just drowning
which is no different from a frozen lung,
frozen heart.
How am I to pull farther away
when death is as close to me
as any other flurry?

"Mama, what's the tempature?"
"I'm busy".
"Dada, what's the tempature?"
"Well, Inside or outside?"
"Outside?"
"Well it's five below freezing outside".
"Inside".
"In here? Well, it's 70 degrees".
Randy Johnson Oct 2018
Disney may have bitten off more than they can chew.
They call certain fans nasty names, that's a bad thing to do.
Because they call certain fans nasty names, fans may not watch their movies anymore.
Disney has crossed the line and they're certainly not people who I adore.
It's the fans who make them and it's the fans who can break them.
When it comes to Disney, I have decided to forsake them.
Just because certain people disliked The Last Jedi, they have no right to call us racist and sexist.
I'm taking a stand by boycotting them and as far as I'm concerned, they will not be missed.
They have insulted me and they've insulted other fans too.
Disney may have bitten off more than they can chew.
Deshunte' B Aug 2014
I refuse to be a slave, Refuse to be a slave anymore God gave me the rights to be free...R.I.P To T.M & M.B. (jus 2 think tht couldve been me) 4 those who arent Paying attention I'm talkin about Travon Martin & the late Mike Brown, **** shame we're still being slaughter because of our skin tone, 2014 Last time I check Racism & abuse should be eliminate (not even in our train of thought as a people) by now!!! We as a people need to make our movement consistent boycotting anything with their pockets involved, injustice has to stop 1way or the other. Solutions should never Include us increasing the violence & killin another n the name of justice that doesnt exist ..
Yenson Apr 2023
"Jada boycotting the Oscars
is like me boycotting Rihanna's *******.
I wasn't invited!"
Rock jokes - on Jada Pinkett Smith boycotting the Oscars.
Now imagine if some sicko fantasists
insists in rampant delusions
that Rock was actually invited
into Rihanna's *******
And then these sicko fantasists
embark on years long campaign
to block Rock from getting into Rihanna's *******
Crazy!...right?
Ridiculous!....right?
Absurd!............­right?
Unimaginable!......right?
Nonsensical!................righ­t?
Delusional!.......................right?
physchotic Fixation.............right?
Not so apparantly in my part of the world
there are things who have lost their heads completely
and are totally engrossed in a campaign to block Rock
from Rihanna's *******
what is so pathetic is one sees them doing actual physical things
all kinds of crazy acts and pointless activities
which in their coo coo delusions
are supposed to stop Rock getting into Rihanna's *******
or having anything to do with Rihanna
it seems they can see events in non-events
talk about losing touch with reality
You couldn't make it up
Hahaha hahaha hahaha hahaha hahaha etc etc etc
Satire on how Cults brainwash people and how sadly there are loads of simple minded people amongst us. Let's be kind to them....and show understanding, not all will ever be The full shilling, this is why we have class divisions in our society.
Àŧùl May 2016
Blanked out parts of my old memory,
Meted out an alienating treatment,
Short-term loss of my memory,
Still undergoing treatment,
Collectively boycotting my soul,
They do their duty of progressing,
Irked they are by my apparent ease.

They follow their basic instinct.

I don't mind it for what my life is.

"A Different Kind Of Hell."

I was supposed to have died but I survived and am made to live here.
I avail few special facilities for the differently-abled because of my 42% physical disability after my serious road accident as categorically defined by the Indian medical authorities.

My classmates are a jealous lot who are jealous of my being in the middle of them.

My HP Poem #1069
©Atul Kaushal
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2022
articles like this really **** me off...
my father is a subscriber to The Times...
personally? i think that Monday ought to be treated
at a media / journalistic sabbath...
nothing ever happens on a Sunday:
what's there to write about on a Monday:
for a Monday... all the newspaper editions
are always the slimmest on a Monday...
it's like... take a hike, won't you?
the best day to read a newspaper, most definitely
a Sunday... it comes with all the cultural reviews
some recipes... a culmination of a week
or even a month... the news review and
the editorial comment sections are best on
a Sunday... why not print anything on a Monday?!
- and it's always on a Sunday that
i find all the juicy bits... the one day in the week
but the current month... bad timing...
either i watch the FA cup / the six nations
or i read a newspaper / the newspaper magazine
while drinking two bottles of 8.2% cider....
well, sure... with beer when you raise the game
to Carlsberg's Special ******* Brew that
comes in at 9%: it's an ugly affair... you start
squirming asking yourself: are you *******
a lemon?! but "alas"... it's cider... so it's almost like
drinking ****-poor diluted wine...
but it makes some agonising articles:
mostly written by women... a tad bit... more...
bearable...
         mainstream media is out of touch...
someone has already said it, someone is already
saying it: someone else will say it later on...
oh i'm big on the female-centric pieces of
the newspaper: forget all that objective journalism,
cold, hard, male: give me the facts and... *******...
no no... as a reader i'm also a weaver...
i like to spin a counter narrative in my head...
The Sunday Times STYLE magazine...
   Dolly Alderton speaks to a rising star in
pop music... a Self Esteem - formerly known
as Rebecca Lucy Taylor... oh, right...
so like Prince... or Michael Jackson:
the guy formerly known to be black? cool cool...
you can check her out...
music sort of akin to spoken word poetry:
whatever the hell that means... no, not Kate Tempest
style... again: spoken word poetry?
oh, right, i'm more into composition than
performance so this is: written word poetry...
fair enough...
   i'll sooner be found dead than performing my word
in the current climate... 'said a poopy word!
cancel him!' no thank you,
i still have a head ******* on this neck
on these shoulders... i'll wait for the jazz to calm
the **** down... i'll probably be an irrelevant
relic by then, hopefully mummified like
Lenin... you never know...
hmm... Rotherham-born... 35...
and what are the chances that...
you know... Rotherham... Pakistani grooming-gangs...
only yesterday my company employed
20+ Pakistani zombies that probably sprouted
out of cousin-on-cousin *******...
dull... zoned-out... glassy eyed *****...
what are the chances?
they looked... well... less sinister more murky...
slimy...no... not slim i.e. slimmy... slime-e...
slimey... i know, it should be written slimey
and not slimy... which sort of implies slimmy: slimming...
no no... so of how you'd write: smiley...
slimey... makes sense...
i'll just verbatim the headline...
(she really looks like a Marilyn Monroe doppelganger,
voluptuous, vivacious, all the required va va voom
of a woman)
   MEN ARE REALLY SCARED OF ME...
last time i checked... there's this ****** proverb
that states... fear has large eyes...
guess what... only yesterday i saw those large eyes
of fear when the four of us were outnumbered
by about 30+ screaming chanting taunting drunk
teenagers / football hooligans at a match...
i must have been squinting or something...
in this profession (of stewarding) i hear a lot of macho
bravado about smacking some...
very much aligned to the narrative borrowed
from the film: Rise of the Foot Soldier...
Essex gangland... blah blah br'uh...
                                       o.k. we get it: you have an erecticle
dysfunction, need to compensate by going
to the gym to increase your muscle mass...
modern films... hell...
they used to be great... up to the point where
they made it adamant that they were also
advertisement flicks... zooming in on products...
worn by characters in a no-plot scenario...
usually watches, electronic products...
food brands, restaurants...
it's like capitalism selling itself to capitalism...
what a hyper-inflated word...
which word? capitalism... i mean... i was born
in a former Soviet satellite state...
n'ah... it wasn't so bad... "my" people sort
of went along with the Russian influence:
when the art of metallurgy was still in "fashion"
in Eastern Europe, but it's not like we took
the Bolsheviks that much seriously than "we" did
the Nazis... after all: funny fact:
it took **** Germany AND Soviet Russian
to conquer Poland than it took **** Germany
to conquer France... Napoleon must have been
turning in his grave...
    i don't think men are scared of women...
personally i like to think of them as timid little
creatures that... OVER-ESTIMATE
their worth, confidence,
                              looks, worth...
                availability... as a man that knows how
to cook, as a man that does all the house chores...
and all the man *******...
oh, right, today... one of my cats did a ****-poor
job at taking a ****...
she managed to plough out two blobs from the "cuvette"
and leave them sitting pretty on
the matt beside the "cuvette"...  
   yes yes, i know, it's a misnomer... read some Wittgenstein...
i'm thinking in ****** while writing in
English... the word is originally French...
blah blah... i lied to little Freddy / Reinhart about
the origins of the word haemorrhage -
one of the words for his school spelling exams...
i said: oh... that's Latin... i'm kicking myself
over the etymological falsity i passed down on to him...
yes: it's Greek...
from HAIMA - blood (noun) &
                         RHEGNUNAI - burst (verb)...
so then i lifted her up and sniffer her...
oh jeez! Louise! **** this ****... i'm not having some
stinking cat walking about my house...
meow meow... ******* horror movie meow...
well you should have taken a **** better!
scratching, a proper bite at the hand!
into the shower with you! washed her from all the
stink... petulant little **** of a cat that she
was she managed to come across as penitent
when i shampooed her and the water was running
down her spine... ha ha...
so much for a maine ****... more like a rat now...
wrapped her up in a blanket put her
on my lap and watched about 20 minutes
of Liverpool's struggle with Birmingham City in
the FA cup...
                  then ****** off on my bicycle for some
whiskey and turkey stakes for the cats to eat...
wait... didn't i once feed Quorus a fish eye,
while filleting a trout? oh yeah... i did...
that was fun to watch... i sometimes catch mosquitos
by the legs and feed them too...
- do men can possibly fear women?
plainly, on the outright? i very much doubt it,
like Bane said in that opening scene from
Christopher Nolan's Batman movie:
this is no time for fear, doctor... that comes later...
how women have churned out a complete
lack of perception misguiding initial attraction
for fear... it's like they have no clue about how
men behave... when they're attracted
to women... "unconscious" curiosity is not
a fear... a woman is still somewhat abstract...
hell: to me she's forever an abstract...
i don't have the practicality of a man that might
gamble, take the plunge...
impregnate one...             last time i heard
it was considered a bad idea for a man to be
present at child-birth... women should take care
of women's "issues"...
ooh... i'm scared of a woman
but not a ******* tiger? logic paradox...
i'm scared of a puddle but not the raging sea!
how did women conjure up this
invulnerability? too many boy bands in the 90s...
too many male feminists?!
- and then the Sarah Everard ******...
men are scared of women... BOMBAST egoism...
no, not scared... just a case of men
scrutinising: is this going to be worthy?
tying the knot... getting up at 5am, coming back
home at 8am and getting nothing
5 pieces of sushi to eat... the house in a turmoil,
the kids growing up feral...
is it... worth merely the looks?!
the looks, right now? i mean... she's going to
be a ******* granny in about 20 years
if she's already a single mum aged 39...
is it going to be worth it?
or... if she's in her 20s... what's her boredom
spectrum, does she need to be on a ferris-wheel
all the ******* time or can she take an hour
of reading beside a fireplace and the deafening silence...
can she handle Mistress Death?
has she been to a funeral? has one of her grandparents
died?!
right...                    yeah.... scared of a woman
because of her good looks...
                scared akin to: what are the chances
she's going to go on a cosmopolitan safari
of **** given the current influx of black walking
****** of migrants on dingy boats...
what are the chances of her becoming a liability
rather than a partner?!

- - - - - - interlude - - - - - - -

****, where was i? oh man, i really love listening
to garbage... no, not literally...
the band... stupid girl, i'm only happy when it rains,
#1 crush, dog new tricks...
i never thought i'd find a recipe for
pasta and smoked salmon... lucky me...
so ******* simple... onion, sour cream,
some tomato(s), two tablespoons of capers,
lemon juice... pepper... chilly flakes...
preferably the Korean ones that also act like
turmeric - i.e. they colour the food...
smoked salmon added at the last minute...
some slices reserved for garnish to make
the dish look more appealing... and obviously
dill... to be honest: a lot of dill...
what did i watch? Beijing Winter Olympics...
why are they so racist?! joke... seriously
that's a joke... why are, why oh, oh my god why
are the winter olympics so racist?!
no winters in Africa?! maybe?!
no ******* snow... what are they going to
do... surfing on the dunes of Sahara?!
ha ha... it's untouchable! i love it!
but what i don't love... why didn't all the countries
simply, outright, boycott Ch-ch-ch-I-n'ah?!
why indulge them as if nothing *******
happened for the past 2 years...
i mean... the Soviets were boycotted back
in the day when people had... ***** for brains
and brains for *****... but these days?
even the **** are ******* labradors lapping up
any attention going their way... ******* silly *****...

plus, the Olympics per se...
there was always equality when it came to sports...
not popular sports like rugby,
football or boxing, i give you that...
sports for rich men and silly little ***** to drool
over status...
but real sports... unattractive sports,
unpopular sports...
we're not going to have a pay gap debate
when it comes to professional tennis...
women only have to play a maximum of 3 sets...
men? 5 sets... how long did that Australia Open
final take, to get finished? close to 6 hours?
right...
     what wage gap?
well, at least in the Olympics a man has
to run a marathon... a woman runs what? half of it?
no no... ***** is running the ******* marathon...
hundred metres? she's running the hundred metres...
obviously she's going to be slower...
that's not my problem... but even saying that...
i enjoy female tennis more than the men's...
i don't know... they moan more?!
or perhaps my generation, the millennials
produced 2 of the 3 greatest players in: whenever...
so... maybe it just a got a bit ******* boring...

oh, but i'll be boycotting the current Olympic
games in Beijing... it's not progressive enough,
there are not enough... what's that ******* acronym...
B.C.I.W. - black, coloured, indigenous, women...
i don't know what the state of the current
alphabet soup of acronyms from H'america is at...
****! **** ****! pump snow to Africa!
get some ice! let's get a bobsleigh team going!
******* Wankees and their currency
of current rotten ideas!

ha ha: it's already served to me on a silver platter...
all i have to do is drink a little and stew and spew...

sure, it's only going to be a soft boycott,
i just watch those games,
pointless... thanks for the pandemic,
no thank you, otherwise...
i sort of feel sorry for the athletes being so compliant
with the narrative...

oi! Ummah! where's you suicide squad from
Saudi Arabia's elite breaking into
the concentration camps where
the Uyghurs are being sentenced to unspeakable
horrors? oh sure... attack the West while
seeking proselytes, but don't care about
your existing Muslim community...
i see a third breaking apart of Islam...
i don't know why i see it... but this will not be
along the lines of the Sunni and Shiah...
this might actually involve the Turks...
i see the Turks as a third, separate,
branch of Islam: even if they're not already that,
where are your little ****-pants blow-themselves-up
rather than fight, fighting for your Ummah
in Ch-ch-ch-I-n'ah?!
                                   oh right, nowhere to be found...
too busy kiddy-fiddling English girls
in Rotherham!
      ******* degenerates!
i'm fuming at the teeth: and they have the *******
audacity to lecture me about, principle?
racists too... they think very little of the Chinese...
as Muslims... the "master religion"
the "master race"... ******* camel-jockeys...
the whole entire rest of them!

- the temperature in the house dropped to 17 degrees...
ooh, a bit chilly... wrote my father's invoice,
took out the garbage, ****... forgot to take out
the dwindling yellow tulips, will do, next week...
received an email that i passed my NVQ for role
as steward... well great... pressed play on
the thermostat... waited as i did all of that...
oh my my... it's getting hot... ran up to my bedroom
to turn it off... it read... 18 degrees...
wow! wow! imagine what one degrees Celsius makes...
i never thought... well: i never thought that
could be possible...

- - - - - - - - end of interlude - - - - - - - - - - -

i must have finished writing about the previous
article, since, i took time for an interlude of...
what was already stated...
                           this second article... i have to begin
with a rubric, oh yeah, it's sourced:
   ONS, UN, relate.org...

rubric, i.e. a list and it's as follows (leaving the approximation
words aside):
1. 1 in 7 people in the UK living alone by 2039
1. 61% of single women say they are single-happy
  compared with 49% of men
            (men, if they lie, are good at it,
   good enough to become serial killers;
    but women? they are compulsive,
which does't necessarily translate as them being
                       good at it; they're usually not -
they're spastic-fantastic sort of clumsy, at it)
3. 1 in 6 of British people believe in the concept
   of "the one"...
4. 10% of Brits enjoy the **** to the ****
with the chicken; 13% in the wake of the fine fine
MADE IN CHINA whatever-it-was don't
feel ready for intimacy...

               oh sure... the hypochondriacs have
finally been found... i was wondering why they /
where they disappeared to... but now they're in plain
sight... with their secular makeshift niqqabs...
i like this transparency... it's good for an apparent
"schizophrenic" to start to feel more comfortable
in his skin... then again: thank you China...
i can now clearly see the neurotics and the hypochondriacs...
the little people on the spectrum of the asylum...
no... the micro-aggression crowd...
no... not the raving lunatics...
the cult of the moon crowd...
the ones speaking to their shadows... taking
selfies of their shadows... haunting graveyard type
of crowd... thank you... i can see the mice...

5. 25% think they are out of bedroom practice, antics...
well, d'uh... 8% are more open to same-*** relationships...

  yeah, i was thinking that... maybe it would be easier
dating a man... but he'd have to be Greek...
and be learned in... classical thought from ancient
times when pederasts where accepted
like modern Pakistan freely welcomes paedophiles
as long as they do it to English girls... that sort of, "thing"...

i abhor the western concept of dating...
i might have been on a date once...
yeah... i was on a date once...
we went to an art gallery,
to the cinema, to a restaurant...
then we started dating, we were in high school...

after that? i was already ******* her
when she asked me to take her to a sea-food restaurant
for clams, oysters and mussels...

dating... oh, right... that one speed-dating event
that made me look like an ***...
dating... is that like... the Chelsea flower show?
you know... where you go to see flowers
but can't pluck any for a bouquette
to take home? it must be like that...
i wouldn't know... ****** off to the brothel
early... found a stone in the shape of a heart
on the pavement once...
called it my own... never looked back...

   just to make sure... i treat oath words very much
akin to superlatives - i know they're not superlatives,
but in the sense of keeping a modern
narrative... they're pretty much akin to being
treated as such, as, i dare say,
punctuation marks without actually being punctuation
markers... they allow for a flow of ideas,
for a flow of a narrative...

cuntish ******* filth if you ask me:
but i do wash my teeth on a regular basis
and i do eat healthily...

6. 1 in 10 Brits is burned-out by dating...
   & dating apps...
                                       don't know... never used
any... i'm still archaic in that i still have
a Facebook account...

7. 71% of men feel a pressure to be in relationships
compared to 58% of women...

as the list goes on... am i, supposed to feel, surprised?!

8. a 16% increase in those living alone...
9. 1 in 6 between the ages of 45 & 64 live alone
10. 48% of "singletons" (women) feel a pressure
to find a partner based off of their social
relationships... men work, together...
******* socialising... ******* with the banter...
the chit-chat... what are we doing,
where are we doing it, how long will it take?
base... women do all that private revelry *******...

11. women are more likely so say that a relationship
is unsatisfactory...  
              well... yeah... look sharp, Sherlock!
Watson's coming! ******* plonkers for plumbers!

12. there are three other facts, but they are
citing **** without numbers...
so... i'm not going to bother... based on feels...   yawn...
it's much easier to just recite lyrics from
the Garbage song: Stupid Girl...
you pretend you're high,
you're pretend you're bored,
pretend you're everything,
just to be adored...
and what you need, is what you get...
don't believe in fear...
don't believe in faith,
don't believe in anything,
that, you can't break...
stupid girl... stupid girl..
all you've had you've wasted...

oh, my god, is it my job to warn them off?!
HE will ask: and how ws your life...
i've lived with cats enough time to know:
and HE will ask... never mind: it be be a SHE...
and IT will ask... and ask... are you
awake... as if... implying: do you think you're dead?!

the rest of the article...
the pinnacles of female freedom...
i'm not going to cite them they're disgusting....
she goes through *******
cosmic concepts and premonitions that
are less grounded in the sands of Arabia
by a horses' hoof than a camel "toe"...

these wankers want to come up north and
dictate the ******* rules...
dictate this... change my ******* mind!
******* plop of a soppy **** that you..
quasi-***** seem to be...
kiddy-fiddlers... you soppy losers...
cousin-*******... camel-jockeys...
weak... quasi-men...
men... sort of...

          i'm not going to go through her article...
she's a sorry *** loser
by the standards expected of men...
no sorry... kind ***...
men band together....
  all as one... or none: to begin with!
and you women, think,  "think"...
you can somehow infiltrate our ranks...
what? you gonna bake me a bannana loaf
worth of loaf..
with all the pecan / walnut "trimmings"...
girl... you're having a ******* laugh...

i'm not reading through this *******...
you want me to bite someone's neck?
no one has yet seen how feral i can could become...
at the job...  i could just roll my eyes back
declaring nothing but sclera...
again: why are women even involved
in this sort of *******?!
why?! are?! you? *******!! here!! ypu,
******* useless, *****?!

i'm here to pick up a fight...
but here you are, pretending to be
a ******* grandma... and that's your excuse...
*****, i hope you get your head sorted,
get punched.... silly ******* cucnt...
oh right... my excuse among the football
hooligans... i'm i woman!
don't touch me! i'n your sister, your mother...
this **** is going to boil...
you tell me that ****, one, more,
******* time... i'm going to 'ed in yurr
******* grandm'ah...!
i know these *****... women are playing
a tight game...

esp. when you... ***** yourselves......
Rotherham didn't ******* help...
you ******* cheap **** ******...
i keep tight, silent, because...
i've been to brothels... but this ****...
i'm not even English... this... sort of hurts...
it, can't be, allowed, an outlet,
via... football, matches...
no, mate, no!

   your sister has been suckered into *******
this... sickle- cell anemia sort of *****
from Pakistan...
oh don't worry about theit race...
they don't have a skin tone...
their skin tone... if any:
cant's miss 'em... slimey *****...
olive oil slimey...
in-bred looking *****... *****-eyeds...
sorry... some people just look
******* clueless! period!
like they're out of "the game"...
they're gone... they're meat for the machinery!
the end! sorry... stop sopping:
no one's special!
weird like... Frankenstein looking
at the monster he created... seriously?!
i, made... that? oh, **** me...
better **** it... but wait...
oh... a chance he might transcendent me...
no... not with these kiddy-fidddling Pakistanis...
chances are... the ******* 4 seasons on
the continent of Antacrtica!
Brian Jun 2013
I don't really like birthdays
I guess I just don't like the falseness
Like don't get me wrong
Having people you care about
Show they care about you is nice
But it's this Facebook crap I really can't  stand
Like, I get hundreds of happy birthdays
From people I don't even know
From people who don't even know me
But even worse
From people who actually don't like me
They feel the need to put on this face
To pretend they care when they don't
I don't mean to be cynical
It's just my real friends will most likely call me
Or ad least text me personally
No, I have no time for the Facebook brigade
Jumping on a bandwagon
Just because you feel you will be frowned upon if you don't
From now on I'm boycotting birthdays, I think
And removing my date of birth from these sites
Social media has ruined the thrill
Of getting a happy birthday
Off someone you never knew cared enough to remember
CarolineSD Dec 2023
She ran until she felt only the deep burn of harshly inhaled and exhaled air raking across the exhausted pathways of her throat and lungs; until she started to see dark spots flitting in and out of her vision and her legs felt like numb pillars of concrete.

She ran on and on with small branches and sharp thistle grabbing at her arms, legs and face, leaving a sense of rubbed sand across her exposed skin.

She pummeled forward, ignoring the death of all feeling in her body, ignoring her heart’s desperate thudding, ignoring the throbbing of blood in her temples screaming, “STOP!” She deafened her ears to her own body and ran on and on, ignoring the dank, putrid mud that kicked up onto her calves and thighs.

She ran and ran and ran until, like a figure underwater, her legs ceased to yield any force against the ground and she sank, floating down, down, down to the black forest floor, first knees, then hands that could not hold her, and finally, her head thudding against the ground with an explosion of stars and the undeniable sense of giving up.

It found her soon enough. Breaking through the thick branches by the old river’s edge, it stood on four trembling legs, panting and salivating. Blood, it smelled blood. The scent was overpowering and beautiful beneath the thin skin of the gaunt little girl. She would be a meager meal, but it was desperate.

Its eyes shone yellow and ravenous through the falling dusk. The others soon followed in a rough pack of visible ribs and gray fur falling out in clumps and eyes dulled from starvation; whimpering and sniffling, too weak to gather their voices in song. The cold night reeked of the memory of wolves once strong enough to howl across the valley, a rising and falling chorus, breaking from the forest to the stars.

Alas, it was all but gone now, along with the morning birds and the great bodies of bears, motionless and decaying like ancient boulders within the belly of the woodlands and the rock-strewn foothills.

The girl was still conscious as the pack began its desperate feasting on barely more than bones.  Everything was barely more than bones, and feeble breath now, and the light that dimmed in the girl’s eyes was barely more than the snuffing of a weak candle. Everything was giving up.

All that remained on earth was red. The red. The RED. Across newsfeeds, and newspapers, and on people’s lips and endless posts on Facebook and Twitter: The RED. By the time it flew across the web, across the world, in people’s questions and conversations, it was already inextricable; already incurable. It came bit by bit. It came like venom, or repressed rage, or revenge, or justice, or Holy War. It came barely perceptible or visible, until it was everywhere and in everything, and by then, it was too late. By then, we were unredeemable.

It began with genocide and our blindness to it; the tipping point of humanity, when the sun-clad holy spirit, the Great Spirit in all things, bowed Her head and wept vast galaxies of tears, tears like falling stars, like the sound of space and time collapsing, because She saw. SHE SAW.

She saw little children with broken limbs, with bones jutting from knees, and skulls crushed like shattered, fragile flowers; little children in the arms of screaming mothers, little bodies piled upon bodies, bloodied and battered, and held up for the world to see, as if broadcast across a slideshow in the sky, and SHE SAW,

She saw the Leaders of Great Wealth and Great Power, turn their heads away and feign blindness, and from their lips SHE HEARD THEM SAY, over and over, “collateral damage.”

And She watched as the Great Leaders learned that they could horrifically, indiscriminately, and brutally slaughter the masses of little wealth and little power, as easy as culling stray dogs.

She saw that there would be no CONSEQUENCES, only “consequences;” consequences like the protests of hundreds of thousands of powerless people, or the boycotting of corporations, corporations owned by the Leaders of Great Power and Great Wealth who sat on their fat offshore bank accounts and outlasted the masses.

The masses needed food, the masses needed shelter, the masses needed healthcare, and the corporations controlled IT ALL.

Eventually, the masses would capitulate. Eventually, they would fall in line. Eventually, they did.

And that is how the Great Spirit in all things, the light of all lights, the wind through the stars, the essence of being, the sacred web of all things, began to tremble, to fall apart, to weep, to release the grief we should have ALL felt for our own cruelty, for our own capitulation to darkness.

She did it for us,

Weeping RED, a tinted light, a bitter water. Slowly, we felt it, tasted it, smelled it. We began to watch the slow dissolution of being. Leaves fell and never returned. Fat shrunk on our bodies and snow melted to rock, to pebbles, to sand, to sand in the wind, blowing away. We are called back to the beginning.

Dissolution in the red tears of God.

I watched the desperate wolf eat his very last meal. None of us had very long. He peered at me with hollowing, haunted, yellow eyes, but he had no more will to run, to fight, to ****.  The cruelty of his last hunt could not match our own cruelty to one another. One was born of desperation and hunger; the other of greed.

Greed ended our Great Dominion, and it will never return. Now, I lean my head against the giant body of a Ponderosa Pine; a pine that is yellowing and dying. I look out across the wild cliffs into the reddening sky. I have little energy left to stand. We are fading into nothingness. I ask a final question to the void below:

Grandmother, spirit of all things, heart of all hearts, the light of all lights, the wind through the stars, the essence of being, the sacred web of all things, after us, after we are all but a light and scattered dust, is there a bright dawning beyond this dissolution, this nothingness?

The wind carries a gentle voice:
"Yes."
Al-Farouk Sep 2017
A chilly outside morning
It's twilight
Birds flapping up in the cloudy sky
Brother **** flirting us to rise
Crickets belittling nature
They want to stay more
Insect chirping
They are happy to noise musically
A breeze has married laziness
Boycotting the filth humans
The dancing dew drops dangling down
The hasty mist reigning before
Boss sun appears.
Brays of donkeys and neighs of horses
Fill the air.
I think I am in Love with this.
Wind announces it's presence
With trees swaying majestically
And leaves falling sarcastically
Icy still waters in the wells
Dead cold
All this for morning reception
Hello..  It's a new dawn
Fairness captured by nature.
Scarlet McCall Jan 2022
I apologize for my offensive tweet. I know that my words caused real harm, and for the next two weeks I will be spending time in reflection, meditation, and  healing yoga at my Colorado ranch. I am also donating $100,000 to Black Marxists Anonymous.

I humbly ask forgiveness for the insensitive remarks that I made on my friend’s 1985 middle school yearbook page when I was 13. I know that my words caused real harm. There is no excuse for my poor judgment, and although my supporters mean well by pointing out that I was an adolescent, I do not agree that I should not be held to the same standards as a contemporary adult. I have spent time with my pastor examining my deep sinful nature.

I regret my costume at the Met Gala. I know that cultural appropriation causes real harm, and for a white woman to wear a dress adorned with feathers is an insult to Native Americans. I have auctioned off all of my turquoise jewelry and donated the proceeds to a Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Committee studying ways to improve BIPOC representation on the Met Gala planning committee. I have engaged a Native shaman to guide me to a path of understanding via guided Ayahuasca use.  

I take full responsibility for standing next to Ned, my former best friend, in the photograph that has recently emerged of us at a friend’s wedding last year. Ned’s inexcusable remark on Tuesday that “All lives matter” is deeply offensive to me and today I join the diverse community that is boycotting his performances. I am ashamed that I ever called this person my friend.  

I regret ever working with J.K. Rowling. She is a transphobic hatemonger who deserves our scorn and contempt. I realize that she will continue to espouse her bigoted views, because her fans do not care, Harry Potter lives forever, and she’s a billionaire who probably lives in a castle. But I will continue to post my outrage on my Facebook page so that…anyway, Rowling *****!
BSeuss Oct 2017
I thought I was writing
new forms of poetry.
I realize now it was not
at all to be.

people whom read my works
must be kind for not
boycotting my hypocrisy.

apologies
Life is but a cinemax,let's face the facts
we travel round and round the screen and though we'd like to be a scene within the picture that's being seen,we haven't got a hope in hell.
They sell these scenes to make our dreams and any scenes we may fall in are cut and put into the bin.
The real sin lies in the lies we're told,
as the green screen folds our lives in two
and the camera crew don't give a frig, to us, the not so big that we don't matter but we could shatter all their dreams by boycotting their clapped out screens and yet we still pretend that in the end,we'll get our break,take our fifteen minutes of fame,
well,thank you all the same I'd sooner not,I'd sooner scratch the spot that's sat upon my ***,
and one day anyway the day will come when we all get our moment in the spotlight of the sun
so why worry?
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
In a Universe fourteen billion years old, a galaxy
Amongst two trillion others moves, through space
At two point one kilometres per hour, pulled
By a gravitational focal point once named, the Great
Attractor and now known, to be grander than supposed.

At the edge of it a star out of many more, collects
Planets to follow its orbit around its core. Amid them,
A terrestrial one ten billion years younger sets,
The grounds for life to spring where evolution’s course
Gives birth to an extraordinary creature like none before.

Destined to mature a mind capable of questioning,
Understanding and develop a thought, budding
Into a creator itself of concepts built by imagination.
Its first ancestor two million years old, its father
Two hundred and fifty thousand, make modern

Human, **** sapiens, a baby on the timeline
Of cosmic history, playing with toys it has constructed,
To learn only subsequently how to use them. Retracing
Steps back to present, to look at humanity with indulgence,
Through the loving eyes of parents, who never turn them

Blind. Reprimanding its mistakes and disasters,
We are all guilty as charged, with the sole ambition
Of channelling its consciousness for it to bloom,
Fulfil its potential, as it acknowledges its blunders
And corrects direction.

Sure some may view the world as grotesque, with
“Chronic adversity and whimsical exuberance”, witnessing
“Savage wars, apocalyptic climate change, plastic ocean
Pollution, nuclear weapon proliferation, overpopulation,
Immigrant crises, everlasting animal cruelty” and more.

Though if denial of it all would be an insult to intelligence,
Failing to see the kid’s good deeds would be a slight,
To humanity and the Universe deciding to give it life.
The toddler is learning to walk, creating meaningful
Relationships, discerning right from wrong. Voluntarily

Willing to make amend, unfollow blindly rulers’ greed
For conquest, power and neglect, desperately seeking
To separate its waste, hoping for recycling to help,
Clean dirtied waters, soils and air, boycotting businesses
Linked, to weapon industries to cease, being a murderer.

Harbouring fellow humans trapped, in critical situations
We are all responsible for, turning towards vegetation
To feed itself and newcomers, burning furs, pouring
Water on fires, while elephants thank us for not stealing,
Their tusks to make ivory jewels and piano keynotes.

So my dear friend rest assure, humankind will continue
To evolve. In the process indeed it will find a way
To live in harmony with its equals and its world,
Until the day, like any other species before it, it will
Go extinct to be replaced, by something different.

For nature also implements its endless creativity,
Next invention of which, we might as well be,
Primitive ancestors.
On humanity and evolution
absinthe Apr 2017
i hereby present  
this
sacrificial offering
to you and your kin
men of any skin
indiscriminate of ticks
hands, time spans, or dimensions

it never meant
much to me
to start with.
none of my organs
can play melodies
and boycotting churches
doesn't help much--
weekdays or ends

i'm weak in the end.
you'll feast nonetheless.
i accept.
condescend what's left.
because i comprehend
that i can't live with myself
regardless.

and why fight the taste of bitterness,
when i've never tasted success.

- end
Third Eye Candy Jan 2018
in the morning, the crisp air crept on bacon feet
over the lettuce rumpus of my disheveled blankets -
tossing out the dreams of the night before...
boycotting the revelation at hand
at the foot my bed...

where yawning is sacred.
and well fed.

but memory is vague.
and just a boy.
Kiana Sep 2018
I am boycotting sleep
Which is an imprudent decision considering that I’m tired and have school tomorrow
But I’m not doing it in spite of the exhaustion, I’m doing it because of the exhaustion
And I have this theory that we all just crave our own demise
That we take so much pride in the little choices we have
When we eat, when we sleep, when we hurt ourselves, when we hurt others
It’s why eating disorders develop
It’s why I perpetually have the thought of slitting my wrists in the back of my mind
But I don’t do it
Because turns out, I have control over that too
And maybe not making the choice gives me just as much power as if I made it
I’m tired
But I’m forcing myself to stay awake
Maybe to prove to myself than I can
Maybe because I just want to wake up in the morning and hate myself for my idiotic decision
Maybe because I want to see just how dark my thoughts can get and see if I can actually do those things I said I’d never do
Whatever the reason, I sit here
Tired and angry
At myself, at the world, at every living thing within a 10 mile radius
I’m so tired
But I can’t give up control just yet
Because it’s all I have
And I’m scared that it’s all I’ll ever have
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
i have to tell you - there's nothing better
than the winter and the late autumn
months

with regards to hygiene...

sure, washing the arm-pits every day,
teeth once a day with a pea
sized amount of toothpaste...

but the full-works?
  a shower?
and on the third day, he rose from
the dead
:
on in this case a very subtle odor...

but during the cold months
when you're not sweating too much,
a shower on the third day
feels like... a... baptism...
sometimes during the act,
but certainly when you're drying
yourself off...

but to get that sensation?
i'd recommend having a few drinks prior...

beside that...
what a weekend...
a match-up between the Kiwi All Blacks
and the Springboks,
rugby...
the second half... blitzkrieg...
staggering comeback...

but the cherry on top of this weekend?
i've never seen such a rugby match...
Los Pumas (Argentina)
  vs. the Wallabies (Australia)...
god... i've never watched a match
that good...
  the Wallabies? 31 to 7 down...
first half... second half?
   the Wallabies down 45 to 34!
the action, relentless,
   like watching sea waves....

which brings me to topic numero uno...
why would the Americans protest
the N.F.L. over someone kneeling
for the anthem?
i'd protest the N.F.L. because the sport
is ****! or as someone up north
would say: *****.

         if you've ever watched rugby
you'd know the difference...
the refereeing? superb...
             which is probably why people
never turn tribal and animal-like,
brutish as they do in football (soccer) -
because people get fired up
over a bad referee decision...
  which is why...
         this whole VR will not be given
enough status...
bad refereeing is what fuels
the passion in football (soccer)....

sure the skill of the players, a great goal,
dribbling, yeah yeah:
show me when the crowd when
a penalty is not given,
or better still: when the off-side is called...

but why protest the N.F.L.?
watch rugby instead...
   it's so much a better sport...
i never understood the point of
american "football"... more like:
throw an egg once,
have a rough and tumble in the middle
wearing aprons / nappies
and find one Forrest Gump on the other
side of no-man's-land...

         one throw : STOP! : regroup :
make another throw : STOP! : regroup :
make yet another throw : STOP!
**** me... it's worse than watching
a private t.v. channel drama with
all the advert intermissions in between...

and esp. after watching today's
Liverpool vs. Manchester City game...
nil nil was the end result,
with a penalty five minutes from 90,
missed...
   how many chances on goal
and on target?
                 one each...
  a game that primarily consisted
of passing the ball, keeping possession,
noted: esp. with the defense playing more
game than either the midfielders or
the strikers...
    boring as ****, or:
watching a chess match with only
the knight pieces moving across
the chess board, jumping out from behind
the pawns...
now... West Ham 3
   Manchester United 1, 29/09/2018?
now that was a match...
                          but it's rugby all the way.

i wouldn't bother boycotting the N.F.L.
over the kneeling incident,
i'd just watch a better sport.
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2019
"Israel warns Ireland over bill
  boycotting settlement goods,
      summons ambassador"

               Response.

After a genocidal/famine of
1847 when over 2,000,000,000
of our people perished, and
having the copyright on the
word Boycott, you are in no
position to tell us what to do
regarding the illegal occupation
and exploitation of Palestine.

— The End —