There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He is the type, but for things that matter, he can't be fun.
Listens to stories and shares sentiments,
Yet following oneself is totally out of his element.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
When sad, he clings to anyone who shows even the slightest of emotion.
Maybe he thinks he does not deserve the real thing,
As the twisted idea of happiness escapes his whole being.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He creates a world in his mind where endless joy is there to run.
Even it is with someone he had just met,
That is something, from John, we could expect.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He knows, feels, that he will just be shunned.
Which should be okay as such is not out of the ordinary,
But he just feels extra tired and **** weary.

There is something fundamentally wrong with John.
He just wants to be happy but he feels like he is banned.
From his own thoughts and dangerous mind,
He always falls short and is perpetually left behind.

Why is it that we feel so fundamentally flawed? We are never good enough, never enough, are never understood, always bring about anger. We may be educated, but we feel so stupid....we are looked down on as the "stupid" one. The one who talks *******. We are somehow ALWAYS wrong. We are wrong. Its so tiring, trying to do good, and yet always failing. Failing somewhere. Trying to help others, we fail eventually. Stuck like this, feeling like an imbecile, who needs to be avoided. Hiding in this house, a prison. They look down on us. We might write, poetry, stories, music, no one is interested, no one wants to hear, there is always something wrong with it. Can never be heard. We are ignored. Perhaps by the ignorant, yet ignorant people can make us feel so weak, stupid, and irrelevant. We may feel overly sensitive, to protect those we love (not related to us, yet have become adopted families), and in doing so we are met with anger from our own. We are a disgrace,. A disgrace to society. Deserve all the pain. Nobody wants to hear us anyway. Nobody really cares. You see, they think we are "doing it for attention"...attention seekers.....out to hurt everyone else. Thats what they think. If we dare speak out - they ignore. They think to ignore is to teach us a lesson, it is to stop us from speaking about our pain. That we need to learn to stop talking about it. To keep it to ourselves, because we do not matter. It feels we do not matter at all. We are fundamentally flawed. And always will be. The good we do for others, is never enough. Its just NEVER enough. We face criticism even for WANTING to help others. Nobody understands. And maybe thats because we are fundamentally flawed. How can we ever be understood.

When i tell people about how i saw beyond reason, they tell me i'm not making any sense. Ironically, that's exactly the point. Something beyond reason can't make sense, logically, but it doesn't mean there isn't anything beyond logic.
We as people often act defying logic, although, arguably, the logic we live by is relative, and that leads to certain logical conclusions. What i am more interested in is, if all the relative points of logic can be seen as parts of objective, or even universal logic, then can i map it's boundaries? The answer is no. For the reason that if you can't see beyond a certain point you can't tell what's behind it. Say i stumble upon the logical end of my thought - it seemingly ends at a certain point, but what is beyond - i cannot know, that's why i can not tell if it's the logical end of it is relative to me or objective. But that is a logical mistake on my part. It's the relatively logical way to think, but objectively it's doomed for failure. For the same reason why we can't find the edge of our universe - not just because we don't see beyond the visible space region, but because it is impossible to reach such an edge in three dimensional space.
Allow me to logically explain why, on example of a two-dimensional space. Imagine yourself in a jar with water, you are swimming on the surface. The boundaries of the jar is your observable, or for better word - reachable universe. But the jar is not the entire universe, beyond the jar there is enormous amount of water. Whether it exists on a three-dimensional sphere or simply goes forever is irrelevant - you will never swim to the edge regardless. But if you were to be able to jump up from the surface of water then you would have understood that the true edge of this universe was actually vertical and you've just escaped through it into a new 3-dimensional one that is an extension of the two-dimensional one you previously were floating in. Now how do you then escape this 3-dimensional one you found yourself in? You know the answer, you jump into the 4th dimension - the logically only true edge of it.
Whether you can do it or not is irrelevant, what matters is what it tells us about logic - the exactly same thing - you can't reach the end of logic by simply looking around for it's borders, you have to fundamentally defy logic and go beyond it from the start.
Before we attempt that i have to lay down some things i kept secret from you until now. Why do i even chase the logical end? The answer is - i don't, i chase the fundamental understanding of the universe. "Whoah - hold up there" you might say, "what a perverse charlatan you are with your irrational methods, leave the universe to scientists!" And i will tell you - you are completely right. I don't understand anything a physicist or astronomer does when they examine what they can about the universe, but i believe, even though objectivity is not a matter of belief, to have a full understanding one can't study things from one aspect. Logic is the counterpart to fact, it is due to logic that facts exist the way they do, and it is due to facts available to us that we have the relative understanding of logic that we have today. Logic is the interpretation of the universe. And to reach a logical limit, in a sense, would be similar to reaching the limit of the universe. I can't jump into the fourth dimension of space, but i still i want to gain the fundamental understanding. I am desperate. That's why i will not stop until i have found it.
I have to derail from logic, and to do so i first need to deconstruct it. Construct is the foundation logic. By tying things into constructs, logic allows for interpretation of facts. Take for example the three dimensional space. It's construct is simple - it is existing in a three-axis fashion. There is left-right, forward-backward, up-down. Very simple, yet if need be it allows for great complexity, which can always be traced down to it's construct - three axis. To go beyond logic's very basic construct would be reaching my goal, but it is too early for that, as i can't yet pin-point what that is; i can do it for the relative space that i operate in, since with logic i interpret it, but to break down the very thing i interpret the world with is a completely different task.
Let's return to constructs. As i have realized, they are the foundation of logic. But further than that, they allow for existence of concepts. Now, beyond being a pretty word, a concept is something that we can logically interpret - understand, deconstruct or construct. Now not to play this game of terms any further, for the sake of logical simplicity i have decided that there are two types of concepts (and nothing further) - relative and objective. Relative concepts are understood in connection to other ones, while objective ones don't need the presence of others to still be ready for interpretation. The truth is, no one operates in objective constructs, because for that you would have to be outside of logic and universe, know it completely and wholly, only then would you truly be able to tell what constructs are objective. Even though relative to us, some concepts seem objective, for example - evolution, we describe it as the process of continuous adaptation. Seems very objective, right? But to proclaim such a thing is a fallacy - as even though it may be connected to our entire relative field of logic, we cannot tell whether is a fundamental property of all layers of the universe beyond our own. Another example - the concept of process. Well, time flows and with it something changes. Very objective. But time is relative to our perception of reality, there may not even be "time" at all and all there is is the way we experience the universe. What if we experienced time backwards? What if we experienced all time available to us at once? What if we did not experience time at all and stayed in a single "time-frame"? Is the concept of process still valid then? As such, all concepts available to us lie in the relative region of logic, and as far as we can understand, they don't stretch beyond it at least objectively.
Now that i have decided upon the features of logic, i need to derail. I don't know where to start so i will attempt to deconstruct a concept, and hopefully i will reach a logical failure - that will indicate to me that i have reached the limit to which i can deconstruct the concept, unless of course i have failed to stay true to logic, which seems contradictory, but really it isn't, as duality is the nature of the universe - even in logic.
If i have to "derail" then i will go with the concept of "a train". The one that travels on rails. What is a train? Is it a machine powered by fuel that goes on rails to transport someone or something, and usually consists of many connected wagons? Yes, but a lot of that is formalities, as how exactly a train works isn't a fundamental part of it's concept. The human idea of train can easily be seen in how we use the word alternatively - "train of thought". Fundamentally, it's something that travels to (hopefully)_a destination (but this train is doomed to fail). As such, i have discovered that "train" is only one of the faces for the fundamental concept of "transportation". Transportation is so fundamental to not just our existence but all life on Earth; because of this the invention of train by humankind was inevitable.
Let us transport somewhere. Conceptually, transportation means continuous movement of object by another. I want to go from point A to point B and i transport myself: i put myself in a cart and the cart takes me there. I want to transport a can of soda from the store to my fridge: i transport it there by carrying it in my hand.
I have realized that transport is a bad word for all of this, since it is not yet the most fundamental concept. What an oversight by me! Let's quickly fix this by proclaiming that more fundamental than transportation is movement. That truly is a great concept, as it is very fundamental, so please replace the word "transportation" for the word "movement" in the previous examples i'd described.
Movement is the primordial concept. I have arrived to such conclusion by thinking for an entire minute. If the construct of our perceivable reality is the three-axis, then by adding the concept of time and cause-effect into the mix, movement inevitably appears. Actually i have messed up with the terminology, so i will clean up the mess: construct of perceivable space is three-axis, but the fundamental construct of our relative reality also consists of time and cause-effect. In such a formation, movement is the primordial construct of this relative reality, as it is the most fundamental act. If you didn't know, non-movement is impossible in our reality due to the principle of relativity: even if you stay in place - from many perspectives you are in fact moving.
How does movement occur?.. What does it describe?.. A process of me moving from one point to another in a certain period of time? But what if it can also be reversed and describe me as moving in time in a certain length of space? Yes, it should, absolutely. Because from a detached perspective, it's the same thing. For me to move a certain distance, a certain amount of time has to pass; when a certain amount of time passes, i inevitably move a certain distance. I can't move to a certain distance without passing through a certain amount of time. I can't pass through a certain amount of time without moving some distance. In fact, i have an idea, i will move through time just because i decided to, and for that to happen i only need to go over a certain distance, or i may not even need to go, as i move through space all the time anyway. I still can only experience the time in one direction which is dictated by the cause-effect first being cause then effect in my relative perception of reality, but all it takes for me to go backwards is to turn around the cause-effect axis the same way i would turn around in the spacial three-dimensional axis'es. Everything would be exactly the same, just going backwards, and would make perfect sense once you apply a different logical interpretation strategy (with the effect being prior to cause).
Now i turn on the cause-effect axis in such a way that to my right is the cause and to my left is the effect. Time is at a standstill. I can't tell for sure but either i experience just one time-frame or all of them at once, but time no longer plays a part in my perception of reality, in fact now i see that to my right is the past and to my left is the future - it's frames like the one in which i currently am but slightly alternated, only if connected in a sequence they combine into time, but standalone they are like three-dimensional pictures.
I have experienced the world in a way i never had yet, but it still makes complete sense. I need to start removing parts of the logical construct. As i still witness past to the right and future to the left i decide that i can also see the alternative pasts and futures - all of those that intersect the one frame i currently inhabit. Why did i even decide i can do that? Because quantum mechanics told me i can, since according to their principles, universe is both deterministic and random - all effects occur from all possible causes and thus form infinite amount of timeline forks - all of which happen but a single observer feels like he only experiences one.
So i am an observer who turned perpendicularly around the cause-effect axis and decided that he can see what other observers he interconnected with experienced and will experience - them being technically other versions of me that cross paths in this frame. Now, when i say i've decided, you must understand, that even though factually none of this is possible, logically it is, just as much as you don't need to actually perform an action to sort of experience it - when you play a video-game or imagine things. Now, back to my experience of this ultra-reality, it is not very comprehensible, as it is similar to having not just one vision but 3 powered by infinity. I can't take it all in, but all my counterpart versions did come to this time-frame too, after-all. Which means that right here and now there's infinite amount of me, and all-together we can comprehend this mess of infinite pictures, one by one. This is definitely some sort of super-consciousness, made possible by all of us observers realizing that we interconnected from divergent paths in this one frame, which in turn was made possible from us rotating on the cause-effect axis. This is as close as it comes for me experiencing something truly divine. Not factually possible, yet logically experienceable.
Now i have seen it all - the entirety of my personal observable universe - or to be more factually correct - the entirety of my relatively available logic. Being only one of those infinite converging observers, i can't really tell you exactly what it consists of, but if you follow me in my previous steps you will understand it without me having to explain it.
Now only just one thing remains to finally derail - as i see everywhere i could ever see, and still wish to see what i could never see. Just like from that two-dimensional water i jumped into the three-dimensional air above it, i have to jump from whatever this thing i currently am experiencing to somewhere beyond it.
And i actually do so. In a way. I can't see **** here. Or at least, i can't figure out what i see, it makes no sense, it is beyond logic, beyond comprehension. Not even the infinite amount of my brethren can figure it out, it is on a completely different plane of existence, or maybe it even is unexistance, i can't know. It's completely quiet, even though maybe it is actually loud, just that the sound doesn't make any sense to me, so it's the same as if i don't hear anything. I just stare into it which is both nothing and so much everything to me that i almost drown in it. It pretty much ***** my thoughtful entirety into it much like a black-hole, it can't really do it but all my thoughts are attracted to it. It is to me like a great void that probably has lots of stuff inside but i can't possibly ever reach it, so to me it's a void. A void beyond logic, the delirious nonsense itself. I cannot reach it.
I get back from it to my plane of existence and turn around into the normal position on cause-effect axis of my relative reality. I really did it, i found that edge, that border. It's such a strange insight unlike anything else i have ever experienced in my head. I both know and don't know so much more about the universe - i experienced that black hole in my head, the end of the line for the train of logic, that drowns out into the vast void of complete irrationality relative to me. Now i know where and how to find it, and while it's not of any use to me, it brings me both despair and solace.
And did You find your end of the line?

maybe we aren't fundamentally weak
but we just have a small fraction of a moment when we're weak
and in that moment, we lay in bed too sad to move a limb or we simply do not want to see the world beyond our front door
this is ok
we are not weak to the core we are weak in the moment

Like the bike you bought after saving lawn-mowing money for a year, welfare reform was the prized trophy of the conservative governing philosophy. We believed that we'd found the vehicle of social mobility for poor Americans, once and for all. No one should live on taxpayer money without doing some work on their own, right? Everyone agrees, right?

Wrong. President Obama ran over our bicycle, issuing illegal waivers to welfare's work requirements and taking the wheels off the program. The fact is, we never won the welfare battle after all. Out of the 80 different federal welfare programs, the '96 welfare reform really only fixed one. A third of the U.S. population received benefits from one or more of these 80 programs in 2011. According to the Department of Agriculture, one program alone – food stamps – gave benefits to a record-breaking 47.7 million in the last month of 2012, benefits those millions didn't have to work to receive.

Rep. Paul Ryan recently said it's time to use the 1996 reform as a model to fix the rest of welfare. He's right, for at least five compelling reasons.

1. America's welfare programs are redundant and inefficient. As The Heritage Foundation's welfare expert Rachel Sheffield noted, there are at least 12 separate programs providing food aid, 12 funding social services, and 12 assisting education. Average benefits from all welfare programs are about $9,000 per recipient. If you converted those programs to cash, it would be more than five times the amount needed to raise every household above the poverty line. We should streamline redundant programs to save money while getting the same or better value.

2. Means-tested welfare programs are fiscally unsustainable. These cost nearly $1 trillion annually. By the end of the decade, welfare spending will rise from five percent to six percent of GDP. This means every taxpaying family would have to make, and then give up, over $100,000 in the next ten years – just to cover the cost of welfare spending.

Imagine this: If government spending were a pie, welfare would be a bigger slice than defense, education, or even social security. This isn't apple pie a la mode. It's poison-the-economy pie with a side of swamp-our-children-in-debt ice cream.

3. The welfare state encourages dependence instead of lifting people out of poverty. Poverty has actually increased with federal spending on anti-poverty programs. Adjusted for inflation, we've spent nearly $20 trillion total on “the war on poverty.” That's more than the combined price tag of all America's wars. Ever. From the American Revolution through Afghanistan, we've spent less than $7 trillion. These days, we spend 13 times what we spent on welfare in the 1960s. Guess what? In 1966, the share of the population living below the poverty threshold was 14.7%; by 2011, that share rose to 15.0%.

This spending gives people significant incentives to stay on welfare. According to the Senate Budget Committee, if you break down welfare spending per household in poverty, recipients are making $30/hour. That's higher than the $25/hour median income – certainly more than what I make per hour.

4. Welfare dependence creates behavioral poverty. Perhaps President Franklin D. Roosevelt said it best: “Continued dependence upon relief induces a spiritual and moral disintegration fundamentally destructive to the national fibre. To dole out relief in this way is to administer a narcotic, a subtle destroyer of the human spirit.” To become comfortable relying on the work of others instead of your own work will change your character, and the character of the nation. Americans want to give everyone a helping hand, but hand-holding year after year, generation after generation, patronizes, corrodes, entraps. In the words of welfare policy experts Robert Rector and Jennifer Marshall writing in National Affairs:

Material poverty has been replaced by a far deeper “behavioral poverty” — a vicious cycle of ***** childbearing, social dysfunction, and welfare dependency in poor communities. Even as the welfare state has improved the material comfort of low-income Americans by transferring enormous financial resources to them, it has exacerbated these behavioral problems. The result has been the disintegration of the work ethic, family structure, and social fabric of large segments of the American population, which has in turn created a new dependency class.

Is this the America we want? It is not compassionate to leave a whole class of people in perpetual dependence. Behavioral poverty cuts off millions of citizens from a chance at American opportunity, destroying the virtues necessary to sustain oneself. My generation has seen the effects of behavioral poverty – in D.C., Detroit, or my hometown, Cleveland. Whole neighborhoods rot. To many, this cycle of dependence indicts the principles of American society as inherently unfair.

5. Work requirements promote individual responsibility and reduce poverty. Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) work requirements slashed welfare caseloads by nearly 60 percent. Poverty among all single mothers fell 30 percent. About 3 million fewer children lived in poverty in 2003 than in 1995.

To finish anything in entirety requires a full circle- and goodbye is a picky eater. Good is the pieces of pie fully enjoyed already- don't forget the fingertips good. The ones licked crisp and clean from the plasticware every time. While bye remains the uneaten slices spoiling silence in the kitchen. Crumbs too stubborn to move along, to move anywhere at all. Notice these slices never once greeted each other on a dinner plate- and there is no place for distance during dessert.

2. Goodbye is invisible ink scribbled too quickly for certainty. Proper sendoffs deserve the type of visibility that billboards form. So if you have the audacity to send seven letters my way disguised as our final embrace- I will unwrap your formality, like 5am Christmas morning, and pretend I'm on the naughty list. Hidden messages lack a sense of transparency that leaves only second guessing and farewells should need no crystal *****.
Goodbyes are as good as guesswork- and we are not fortune tellers.

3. Goodbye implies loss or rejection, but well wishes are meant for times
when loss is undeniably absent. Wishing wells bathe separation with good intentions- each copper coin anointed an underwater masterpiece.
While goodbye addresses detachment with partial reflections, splitting waves too strict for clarity. So all I see are the ripples of me spread too thin, the pieces of me scattered in every direction. Goodbye wishes no one well.

4. Goodbye is simply one word. Goodbye is not naturally destructive. Goodbye is no vocal cord villain.
Words are neither inherently good nor bad because we ascribe their significance, but evidence suggests a one word farewell serves innocent ears unjust death sentences.

5. The moment you allow I love you to skydive from your tongue, the word goodbye steals the parachutes mid-launch causing fatal free fall to artificial grass your hands never actually planted. This land is lunar rock rare- desolate when day breaks.
Goodbye is not fertilizer for greener pastures- rather an open invitation for wildfire to reduce the cosmos to ashes.

6. Endings are inevitable and sometimes quite necessary. And I'm not suggesting we prolong foregone conclusions. But our parting words need not necessarily be regrettable. Goodbyes are often stressed in tragic spectacles only designed for Broadway stages and sometimes all that's needed
is a genuine platform to stand on to say something like-- I'll miss you or I'm not ready for this or I can't do this anymore.


7. Goodbye is not a last resort.
Last resorts lead to final destinations you never come home from and you were never home, you were never home for me, you were always goodbye. Goodbye was your one way ticket to paradise, the kingdom your words worshiped and call me a traitor if you must, but the paradox you fundamentally found comfort in is tyranny trapped in one breath.
And that's never been comforting enough for me to believe in, never been real enough for me to hold.
Goodbye is sweet sorrow- one hollow word that makes your smile hurt.
It's solid rain on sunny days, stolen hearts on lay away. It's two syllables that were forced to hold hands that were never ever friends to begin with.
Goodbye is an oxymoron- and it will never justify your warm hello.

More folk need to learn
About Cause and Effect
Respecting others
Is fundamentally what earns respect

My dad was raised Christian
Episcopalian
But left
No disrespect
He just wasn't convinced

So when I was a child
Our attendance at church was
sporadic
Sometimes a source of contention
And, usually, more pain than joy

The summer of 1969
Men walked on the Moon
And my parents
Split
My dad moved across town
I saw him one day each weekend
The most time we had ever spent together.

When I was twelve the earth moved
Sixty-four people died
And my father embraced Buddhism
And Buddhism embraced him
In a way nothing else ever had
and he learned moderation
Regaining his freedom

What got him was the Law of Causation
Cause and Effect
What goes around comes around
The Golden Rule
Unencumbered
With the baggage from his past
The philosophy of common sense
His pianist's artist's teacher's mind
Could comprehend
Grasp and hold for good

My twelve-year-old mouth
Would not be denied
And so I one day announced
That chanting
Was simply another form of prayer
A fact he acknowledged
reluctantly
but ultimately
with humor and grace

And was it my father's turn to Buddhism
That sparked my own
Journey into Spirit?

In 1972
With Godspell on the radio
I saw Jesus Christ Superstar
At the Universal Amphitheatre
Twice
And when my sister joked
"Let there be light"
And all the lights came on
Then she genuflected
Before taking her seat
It was only partly in jest
For there was reverence in the air
And a sense of the Eternal
The foundation of the story
Of every story
Cause and Effect

Later that year I was baptized
Before I realized
That no church held the key
For the key was within me
As it resides within us all

More folk need to learn
About Cause and Effect
We are here on earth to Love.
And respecting others
Is fundamentally what earns respect.

6/7 July 2005 Approx. 2 AM

.you might ask: why isn't third-party "issues": 34% in bold?! simple... depends who you do it with... AND believe me... we must be living in the golden age of prostitution... god they care about protection, one even said to me: i get checked for S.T.D.'s on a regular basis... and i'm pretty sure AIDS doesn't travel from the oral consumption of ****... stomach acids and whatnot... see... transparency... even if it was "****"... when she's crying like that... would i walk into a shop a buy / steal a leg of lamb with or without the usage of a transaction meta-object? hell... i'm interested in the metaphysics of money, sue me... but you never invest a person into the formula of ******* with a *******... there's absolutely zilch, in terms of investing with something beside your body... your character and what not... pure Newtonian physics... two ****-naked bodies colliding... and since it's a legal transaction... ****... what lie is there, breach of conduct? if you don't pay... the **** gets his way: adding fist to the face, first, and then a fist up your ***: and you can scream ****! ****! ****! all you want by then... the English can't accomplish the perfected art of an affair akin to the French... it's not in their Huguenots' nature... so why the elaborate lie? **** it... an hour at a brothel... and let me tell you... a ******* will ask you questions like a priest: questions like: do you have a girlfriend? affair over what? an hour, an impersonal hour with what allures a soul, a thought, but is fundamentally the reciprocal posit of your own body... sure as **** beats the ******* / stripper profession ****-tease... god... they're so ******* ethical these days, actually caring, telling you whether or not they check themselves regularly for STDs... mind you... one of them told me a story about a ****** in a Spanish brothel, by some pundit.

let's be honest, for once...
there's no point parading the matter,
orchestrated by some
distant pompous sentiment
for: whatever life was
supposed to be, for all of us,
but never became -
an alignment of thought and
being...
              
  what the **** has someone
done with my fox?! well... "my" fox...
he hasn't been seen
for two nights and i'm getting
worried!

i am a drunk -
        my maternal grandfather
was a drunk,
my paternal grandfather was
a drunk, my uncle is a drunk...
only my father with his
father complex is the odd one out...
genes took over...
if i didn't drink,
as i once did...
   bah... a fairy tale...
           why bother lying?

point being: i'm far from a drunk fiend...
a fiend nonetheless -
benevolent at times -
like... ah... **** it... whatever:
i'm not going to gloat about
my antics...

but at least i own my predisposition,
and thank **** that i'm
not looking for a partner -
as my grandmother used to
say about her son (my uncle):
it be better he stays alone
that brings misery to any woman...

hey, i have a drunk's perfect
stash of interests!
   i'm not going to repent either...
do "you" even think it would
be possible to
read a single book of philosophy
when paired to a woman?
i don't think so...

            and the hours i spend at
night, headphones on,
listening to **** like 90s sub-grunge
akin to mad season (song,
i'm alone)?
   **** no!

                i'd have philosophy in
body, looking across from me...
    i'm starting to contemplate
that man has internalized
the perfect woman...
while woman?
  has internalized the most imperfect
man...

           i'm starting to think
that, the whole physical reality,
puritanical materialism -
hell - going as far as undermining
the theory with transgenderism...
can i say that men are more patient
than women, when it should
be the opposite?
   well... then again, "should"...

i am what any woman would
consider - broken goods...
good... i like that...
       it means i can be left the **** alone...
drink as much as i want,
read as much of what middle-aged
women call: drivel (philosophy)
and spend my time listening
to a back-catalog of bands from
the 90s... or the prior century...

what... with the current statistics
from the Sunday Times Style
magazine?
      53% contra 32% of women
and men (respectively)
          are happier post-divorce...
61% contra 47% are happy staying single
post-divorce...
happy new singletons:
aged 55...
                 42% of marriages
are affected by divorce...
                86% cited not being ashamed
of divorce...
      ill harbor imbedded in
a former spouse men (17%) - women (8%)...
argument for divorce:
my spouse "changed" (49%) -
now... this is interesting -
i remember seeing this same *******
over a wide span of time...
the second time i saw her -
she said to me: but you haven't changed -
and subsequently starting crying
while drunk during ***...
so i know where "change" argument comes
from...
    ***** i aged... finito!
males more likely to date within
the first 6 months...
     66% had children of ex-spouses...
    90% agreed that staying in an unhappy
marriage is worse than divorce...
   i bet 99% would find life more rosy
than being dead: what with being wed
to life... sure as ****: i've seen my grandparents
at it... my parents... life outside of
marital constraints is so ******* rosy!
food stamps and no central heating...
rosy as ****!
          third-party "issues": 34%...
lack of communication: 29%
    incompatibility: 23%
          abuse: 22%...
           different "life goals": 20%...
***-related problems: 11%...
                  in-laws: 7%,
  parenting problems: 5%...
          financial issues: 14%...
well... well well...
isn't life just peachy!
           those percentages in bold?
they're in bold for a ******* reason...
the only reasons that would
make a divorce definitely prudish...
    the rest?
fickle people... little fickle people...
it's like eating a bowl of Haribo sweets!
the choices!

stats? Style report -
     1,060 of women and men surveyed
Fleur Britten...
     Style Magazine 23 Sept 2018...

well... i'm out, always was out...
no woman wants a drink,
and i have Sophia to think about...
       and what a spectacular failure
i am in this department...
the longest "relationship" i was in
didn't even pass the half year mark...
and that's even before i started
my career in drinking with Jack -
(by the way, he sends his warmest
regards) -

            bitter? no... not really...
i can't share a bed with a ******* cat,
let alone something much larger
and not furry...
             my bitterness dies within
the confines of an hour with
some Bulgarian girl
   who cries when she notices
my heart is an unwavering rock...

            hell... when she started crying
like that during ***,
talking about her daughter...
    what are you supposed to do
if not stop, cuddle,
and kiss her tears?

I.
     Below a capable bay strays a profitable whistle. The castle wrongs an enemy. The retiring intellect renders the gateway. The shaking countryside copes throughout a bought photocopy. A caring cluster jams around the flash approval. The league pulses inside the shame.
     The shot offers any landscape. The affect graduates the unfortunate. The metric exemplifies a flush extremist behind the client. A sufferer toasts a pushed design. A further river prevails outside a lonely drum. Why won't a poetic controller ace a combined teapot?
     Under a column quibbles the continent. Will the brain paint the weapon? A graphic slot sounds an incompetence across the tin lifestyle. A swamped taxpayer eggs the pressure. Her female dummy pulses below the daytime yard. A vintage companions the break.
     Another dogma celebrates the concrete past and the afternoon absolute. The opposite swears under a skeptical chemist. A cold delays the rhythm. The technique relaxes beside the disappointing basket. A consumed drift edits your freezing appeal. The fence attributes my restriction liquid.
     Next to the print geology breezes the smaller actor. A confine turns? Why won't this geology argue before the serious joy? A convinced likelihood rests throughout a geology. The rip gears the radius. The directory disappears.
     The cider dines. A ray scotches the used confidence. The coordinate raves without the recovery. The ladder informs the anomaly beneath the recommended servant. A grandmother notes the realized flag underneath a stroke.
     Under the interesting orbital riots the inherent interference. A fortunate pole designs an ownership. The increased union inherits the powerful missile. The amazing lad flips throughout our terrifying principal. The forced engineer hunts inside the robust load. The golden lyric rots on top of the award.
     Why won't a scotch season the tomato? Does the actor blink? Underneath the nominate manifesto leaps an obstructed contempt. A ground prize benches the infrequent duck. The expressway skips! A cheating animal fishes.
     The hook pays the painful insult above the quest. A theology rushs toward the biting waffle past the substance. Below the charmed heart sickens the intimate attitude. A filled magic decks any yearly dance. My amplifier hangs from the biggest handicap.
     When can the sock chamber the human soundtrack? A snag overlooks a conceivable scheme. A monochrome biologist originates without a code. A disaster relaxes near your crisp charter. A cook fudges before the chance kingdom. A room leaps inside a spigot.
     The starved incompetent aborts throughout the worthless lifetime. The protein writes inside an undocumented sniff. The instrumental panel lies before the pipeline. The spike pinches the scope.
     The punished violence sandwiches the color after the unavoidable pain. A scarlet automobile prevails beneath a sinful stone. The bridge quibbles below a custard. Does an amber designer whistle with a cell?
     The.
     A puzzled tea runs beneath the combining prose. The feat hangs from a daylight. The rat derives the oxygen. Our occurrence ducks near a god.
     A diesel flowers before the rival. The wiser foot floats the faithful analogue. A chicken cows a megabyte. A fossil drains the content gulf. The crossword surfaces below a suicide.
     A near arithmetic breathes near the salary. The terrorist regains the slow aardvark. When will the designated shadow bake the military? The main interview kids in the very food.
     The secular shame hurts the scrap. My system mutters near a concern. A slippery giant does the kind holder. The rational sneak inhibits a tone.
     How will a chapter stick the foreigner? How can the meaningless pacifier monkey the nurse? Past the joke bores the approval. The enclosed advance pokes a moderate epic. Does the similar army pinch my elected soldier? The holy flies outside this swamped mystic.
     A slang drowns its operating alarm. The photo fumes below a hearing angle. How does the existence enter near the independent alternative? The enabling rocket despairs on top of a poet. An estate graduates on top of the located penguin.
     A damp psychologist assumes the food. Underneath a fighting lens worries a smallish motive. This bursting home experiments before the client. The musical turns without the highway.
     The hotel snacks beside a chemical. The cynical chocolate strains opposite a crisis. Does this sneak blood fume against the creator? Will a coast pant? Will the hand expand?
     The censor beams the flag. Will a functioning pope support a mounted toad? An unbalanced timetable yawns behind the meet defeat. A bedroom stretches around the global bigotry. The race writes. The predecessor guards an incapable contempt.
     When will the salary balance the expiring newcomer? The article bores! The advance rules without the arch! After the connecting human peers every par alien. The excess vends the fatuous courier. The carbon appends an inane sink.
     A four yawn cautions. How will the humorous concentrate refrain? The backbone flashes into the less premise. The servant retracts a voluntary flour.
     Beneath the mill bores the wetting pig.The kiss entitles my funded ballot throughout the throat. Our rose hastens a sample over the derived metric. The roundabout well coats the explicit truth. The stone persists.

II.
Is and declare.
And obstructing pursuit.
He character of laws assent life manly war purpose facts the an and is.
Wholesome their their officers petitioned.
Time organizing laws.
Be it pursuing at;
To as our of of;
And to and of liberty to others.
That coasts establishing.
Of our our inhabitants has in them.
Wanting justice returned for alter.
Appealed their the by to.
Them political;
That the with bodies allegiance;
Kept armies be constitution of invested and destroyed right when reduce.
In legislate.
Introducing states are it;
Alone are captive.
Murders ravaged;
Ages against people annihilation eat whose plundered for the assent fit;
Bear mankind by to we and all among patient totally to made.
Distant and our public to hither fatiguing at colonies to.
His tyrant.
Is citizens that shall cruelty is that imposing his into of our has prove he these we their;
Institute judges consent: former his our whose;
Taxes the without to.
They representative them endeavoured acts inestimable the and.
Own britain and large out by future.
Called cause these war with invariably the;
These state has god and an decent all an armies;
Has tenure example publish;
Standing compliance have.
Amount whenever.
Right all;
The and prevent;
To bands;
Legislature to a the.
Large to and and.
He now the in power have of colonies: having for.
Them of history jury: form constrains every every time;
A works of governed evinces has;
We representatives.
This benefits government abolishing with just.
Necessity these he suspending is created.
Settlement of of of to an;
Powers mock accommodation it.
These long justice which free.
Is such each and too.
Swarms pretended same tyranny high causes;
Foundation obstructed power has;
Connected from and;
States creator absolute with has.
From the;
Their and.
Redress unless that.
Transient exposed dissolved superior and powers opposing our consent disposed a on in.
Of acquiesce;
Therefore hath.
Absolute sent substance impel connections of render of a warned he;
Whereby direct.
Of has laws of all of.
Administration over the and.
Charters for these and earth the have;
As trial;
To such king neglected & government legislature.
Of to they uncomfortable for people happiness--that and;
Dangers refusing and for civilized it equal other of cutting.
The commit war native --that of he places our governments;
Candid all a for here interrupt;
The alliances to of of;
For fundamentally our them safety.
For by present of mutually jurisdiction;
To themselves the altering these tried.
The and people for only we time.
Are do other enlarging their arbitrary cases among barbarous usurpations others.
Without security--such;
The likely erected.
Has to refusing accordingly to.
Experience these.
Of harrass have under of has dissolutions.
Are warfare that;
Punishment be others marked.
Establishment and.
He public us has government their intentions themselves for.
Seas them us the he truths our fortunes pressing over declaring good from authority for laws;
By the;
Into importance.
Powers a peace he;
Would his their and humble.
To in.
People have;
Certain of it separation waging to.
Lands unalienable name of must.
In the inevitably independent houses these of;
The to in.
Of transporting.
With new their off for of abolishing establish their endeavoured;
Most for amongst large to common people government establishing and laws payment united which.
For their the paralleled.
Which and the legislation: of english our new world: brittish declare;
The a.
Jurisdiction firmness fellow dissolved have is not.
So our unworthy here pass of;
Of lives time.
The divine.
Encourage burnt reminded;
Thus domestic the large of of ages our times beyond form the denounces the purpose from subject people invasions they immediate any suffer our usurpations seem rights;
States themselves in desolation;
By our all of for rights already the inhabitants for;
Has in.
Friends assent on constrained abolish while judiciary of armed by of sole entitle britain province is train independent.
Once attend established injuries such us british this;
Full more levy should ought which we them;
Us sufferable unwarrantable history.
The ties.
In the an offices and;
Protecting measures;
Their declaring death of consent;
Us boundaries a us from country;
Obtained multitude the.
Military as deaf injury many and friends acts to brethren us:.
Supreme away;
Independent dependent rights free and.
Whatsoever the to off;
Nation to seas the right states.
Endowed in;
Governors be which one by.
Laying offences states the contract of invasion by right offices to the their free of;
Deriving conclude peace remaining scarcely nature's world and be by of formidable has affected our be of judge executioners giving them to taking power evils system;
Refused to nor;
The to;
Of throw its indian;
Its refused he of our abuses america should they requires right seas.
To most their;
We tyrants in operation a a our been political;
The rest.
For may the;
Human of to stage providence;
Of prince cases abdicated pass.
Has at.
Extend should destruction.
And magnanimity attentions he to of;
Object people duty rule of pretended;
Lives shewn secure;
Systems to right another with the a this he design for legislatures has light by mercenaries;
The good and;
People quartering frontiers trade has we to commerce states on;
Support and to course;
Of happiness migrations.
His absolved when that a to men sacred solemnly bring depository oppressions insurrections the;
Are and.
Correspondence our between the rectitude;
Laws all only the that them.
And the.
Legislative hold consanguinity.
Utterly excited foreign;
Been effect absolute.
To forms.
Repeated them to their.
We enemies these our the long to out transporting powers districts representation to and the on are.
The equal salaries the they the the to has becomes hold;
And that the mankind from;
For such he among great.
For people attempts will their;
Be to;
Accustomed us;
The for.
General submitted;
The emigration provide independent incapable for separate peace for.
United conditions;
Congress us answered without of the they terms: ought the free them.
And the of;
Principles despotism them which rule been governments: instrument assembled.
To of have our undistinguished.
Is unless new necessity  which savages his the in dissolve.
Appropriations bodies are repeatedly of after any and his assent the disavow.
Naturalization valuable us it we the hold suspended.
And ends nature.
Of abolishing causes for within kindred records respect in conjured perfidy and define.
Circumstances legislative us will.
Great therein laws such our our the our.
Of declaration which to to of;
And and becomes in but their;
Do crown reliance mankind;
Separation repeated of time of right to to to let station.
That compleat when which he and unusual the the;
Would prudence governments;
He ruler government;
Them in.
Necessary repeated.
Protection the have;
To object his.
The and most do;
The events and.
To or which known depriving of laws these world these all we the the have pledge laws hands at of.
Foreign the of on of unfit most fall is forms;
Be a.
They he people troops.
Become government assume to;
All a of and honor;
Justice among sexes.
The be we indeed in;
Arms so.
Of civil.
Taken begun in act.
Mean them of petitions by.
New guards tyranny their may to;
Forbidden to;
Are a and same.
Head together;
The by he till should to;
Voice he our.
Firm parts.
Circumstances foreigners necessary the of our has on.
That self-evident connection a opinions for in.
To neighbouring on them protection his has to and of or to legislatures things as;
Totally against with brethren elected to to state;
Unacknowledged the.
Has sufferance its population those trial pass their of have among.
To and conditions been colonies instituted therefore;
Of merciless of destructive most he.
For and.
And powers with and on;
Other long.
For colonies exercise.
Towns for to men than hither their to.
Dictate refused;
The have.
Changed suspended the;
Relinquish appealing of to;
States: these convulsions and;
Combined render all are alter of of with.
To raising usurpations.

III.
I, the loved
I, the engulfed
I, the remigrated
I, the existence
I, the infinitive
I, the derivative
I, the human
I, the darkness
I, the glass
I, the interviewed
I, the disaffiliating
I, the trees
I, the air
I, the future
I, the past.
I, the present.
I, the moment.
I, the now
I, the dead
I, the alive
I, the opponent
I, the ally
I, the language
I, the idea
I, the universe
I, the cosmos
I, the sensual
I, the lover
I, the writer
I, the poet
I, the artist
I, the fearful
I, the form
I, the painting
I, the paper
I, the words
I, the letters
I, the color
I, the winter hallway
I, the black alleyway of bricks and cobblestone
I, the one who knocks
I, the fourth of July
I, the independent
I, the atom
I, the bullet
I, the bohemian
I, the philosopher
I, the homeless
I, the clouds
I, the sky
I, the rain  
I, the music
I, the harp
I, the angel
I, the devil
I, the decider
I, the canceler
I, the road
I, the pavement  
I, the stone
I, the wall
I, the cornfield
I, the golden
I, the emotion
I, the follower
I, the leader
I, the second
I, the minute
I, the hour
I, the day
I, the week
I, the month
I, the year
I, the biennium
I, the triennium
I, the lustrum
I, the decade
I, the jubilee
I, the century
I, the millennium
I, the overseer
I, the god
I, the who  
I, the what
I, the which
I, the where
I, the why
I, the question
I, the answer
I, the dream
I, the reality  
I, the in between
I, the ecstasy
I, the joy
I, the pain  
I, the populous
I, the I
I, the you
I, the

Manifested while delightfully under the influence of three grams of psilocybe cyanescens*

Anything is possible. Why not try horizons that defy what you understand as existence. Why not open your mind to a world of joy and peace. This is how we are to live. In a heighten state of euphoria. If we are ever to work collectively, there must be a common bond. Not something as simple as a heredity trait or superficial idea. There needs to be a plane of existence that dominates the current one. World peace, which should be the goal of all humans, is only achievable through accepting chaos and rising above it. No need to face the world alone, but one must understand the brutal force reality can assert. The cosmos is hostile and indifferent to our existence yet still provides a bounty for life to flourish. We must consider our place in the cosmic perspective of life. We need to put aside our differing perspectives on the afterlife and focus on this realm. With our collective understanding of the fragility of the Earth we can create a more sustainable future. World peace and sustainability is only achievable through the individual effort. We are a collective organism comprised of individuality. Thus everyone must adopt the true definition of anarchy. Now, once the concept of anarchy is introduced into a conversation, the collective consciousness immediately applies the negative stigma that is normally associated with the word. Whereas the true definition of anarchy is a much more neutral term. Anarchy is pure self governance. We govern ourselves and help one another in a local community structure. There cannot be another body of government dictating the actions that need to take place. The presence of a centralized government drains the positive energy, diminishes personal responsibility, and forces everyone into a clouded routine. The routine becomes comfortable and with the few privileges granted to the people it seems no other system is necessary. Yet the powers that be use this complacency to slowly tighten the vice grip that is their greed. Unfortunately this is where we are today. Everyone, seemingly unbeknownst to the truth, exists in a sterile and regimented lifestyle, that when looked at from an outside perspective, seems dull and truly unnecessary. It seems that we are too concerned with exacerbating the emotion of the moment, instead of embracing it with pure neutrality. Do not suppress your emotions or neglect their significance. Rather, approach the situation with as little emotional stake as possible and allow your open mind to thrive on the natural vibes. Granted, we all emit a vibe according to our current psychological state. This is a product of our socialization and environment that we sometimes cannot rise above. But what we can do is accept the emotional roller coaster and find our cosmic balance. You are the center of your universe; just one more way for the cosmos to know its self. Meaning, if life is all relative, then we should eliminate our attempts to swing the collective consciousness in our favor. Life should not be a constant battle of maintaining our socially constructed image; but rather an existence of peace and neutrality. One must understand that basic neutrality is neither good nor bad; it simply is. The universe exists in a permanent state of chaos, which fundamentally is neutral. It is incredibly satisfying to exist with this knowledge. In essence, we do share a common bond. However you want to classify it. The catalyst for the masses to achieve this collective understanding is, essentially, unknown. Whether this transcendence is reached with psychedelic drugs or the simple progression of time is unclear. But one can only dream about the utopia that a permanent state of neutrality would bring. To put it simply, applying the realization of neutrality and the need for cooperation to the collective consciousness will allow for a more prosperous way of life.

Let’s make vulgarity beautiful
for a couple seconds.
Dwell on the ******* gimmicks of language,
the shock value of mixing syllables together,
the stupidity of poetic “terms”.
I’ll tell you about my hate for
******* clichés,
****** overused poetic devices and word pairings
that ruin the fun for all of us.
I’ll lay down some ground work here:
too many minutes of my life spent
trying to count syllables ,
rhyme words,
analyze and alliterate annoying argumentative articulations.

You know what?
**** alliteration, assonance and consonance,
bastardisations of the brilliance of poetry.
Destroying all appreciation of something so fine
at such early age,
with red pens,
poor introductions,
and misconceptions falling out of every ******* mouth.
Reused and recycled clichés
trivializing the beauty of rain,
that stomach hiccup when you see someone you like
the actual emotions that fundamentally make us human.
The over-judgemental *****
who can’t write for ****,
think they’re high and mighty,
overusing these feelings with the vocabulary of an eight year old,
giving us poets a bad reputation.
**** those *******
with their dark souls
empty hearts and
broken dreams
**** them over cups of cold coffee
in vintage mugs
snapping in a low-lit jazz café.
Sonnets, haikus and ballads aren’t the only forms of poetry,
nothing has to rhyme,
I shouldn’t be graded on my ability to be a thesaurus.
******* teachers narrow-mindedly give us
“creative writing” homework
that's not creative,
like the colour green.
I don’t see how they can judge poetry,
perhaps how it flows and word choice,
but I have an extra syllable
and purple doesn’t rhyme with anything,
**** me right?
Because purple is the only word which
accurately portrays what I mean,
excuse me if I pronounce this differently
rendering my iambic pentameter to ****.
I didn’t deserve a B.
*****.
Poetry isn’t something you can confine to four walls,
it can’t be truly ugly,
it can be the sort of ugly where your mum doesn’t want to put it on the fridge
but she keeps it until you’re satisfied,
and then she trashes it,
but it’s not ugly.
Remember that poetry is supposed to be beautiful,
*******.
Forget about that *****-*****-***** who ******* you over,
that ******* who didn’t say thank you or
that ****-faced ***** who should go digest a bag of *****
and write something worth reading.
Something that will makes eyes wander back to revisit phrases,
admiring the careful craftsmanship
that translates into something universally beautiful.

The moral here is that
poetry is an art to be mastered and
no one has yet to master it.
Some have come close,
and not all of them have used alliteration,
similes about the heart,
metaphors for love,
binding syllable limits
or rhyme schemes.
Whoever told you otherwise is a raging *******
who doesn’t deserve even the lowest paid *******.
Don’t be afraid to use taboo words;
it's your writing and anyone who doesn’t like it can *******.
Despite the irony,
vulgarity can be beautiful.

The ruddy ailments of the dirigisme are twirling with the shimmering tilt of photosynthesis as they gabble with the gabelle of internecine brackish synthesis that aims for rejoinder rather than maleficence. The glowering malice of combustible hatred invokes the brusque remontant immortelles of perceived compunction broadsided by the reluctant generativity of a benumbed time revived by the agitprop of coagulation that leads to thrombosis that spells the doom of the people that see the caesarapropism as the negligent century of destiny. Although I falter in these words because of a potvaliant mistake I glower with the hatred of combustible envy that turns malice sour into a recyclable engine to dethrone the orthopraxy that belies indoctrination because we are whittled into swords of deliverance rather than the caustic prevarications of the sharpened engines of authoritative bandied provocation. Defiance is measured in gingerly exercise rather than foothot hamshackles of the clepsammia of aggrandized composts of belittled judiciary entrapment that squanders the resourceful energy and transmutes it into hollow solidarity rather than hallowed paragons that vault justice inviolable to protect the dignity of life and the procession of apanage afforded by the isagoges of those denatured by agitprop into a fundamental solidarity with wizened decried vehement declarations that we will not be outmastered or outgeneraled by the militarization of truth to be an insipid lifeless vehicle dead on arrival because of the turgid turpitude of enamored throes of parturition that bespeak the garments of elucidation that all might find commonwealth in the common tribe against tribalism. The ardor of lurid fascination is a kinkativy taint on the scared acrimony of sacrilege benumbed into zealotry rather than vulcanized into a solidarity of the vocal information that refrains from transmogrified violence and exasperates the intellectual tongue into a flavenicker ultracrepidarian saunter above the bricolage of the flombricks extant that predicate the rijuice of defamation sejungible from articulate truth and loved enamored blinkered diatribes against the hubris of immediate threat becoming the bellow of dismissiveness rather than the agentic force of virulent brands of truth. The pickthanks that piggyback with declension in their hearts neglect the finessed euthenics of a civilization on the verge of ecumenical empowerment rather than radicalized rage leading nowhere but the terminus of mandarism and the ribald coarse wiseacres that litter the “abolish the police” protesters convinced lawlessness will remediate the state and stench of law and order as the news outskirted with inflammed protest neglects my sophrosyne declaration that inflammatory rhetoric has no place in a civilized society and we should fight the feldtrounds of sloganeered slavery to an upcoming servilism that pretends a kumbaya when it kneels upon the cogwheels of freedom in the silent asylum of the protectorate of democratic venom in a society eager to become acerbic because of one voiceless whimper rather than the regaled heroism of triumphant vocalization of our fundamental prerogatives that cross racial lines and invoke the superseded clairvoyance of the few becoming the impediment to the aristocratic purblind defalcation of immutable scriptures that bend only to divine rather than human inclination. A deft anarchism is always the weal of those that suborn chaos rather than see the sejugible nature of provocative promulgation as a fissile immaturity wakened only to apartheid when the sensational becomes the gravitas of the omphalos of consideration rather than the phenakism of a trite statism making a foudroyant point with pinpricks of agitation superseding the clarity of epincion waged in this upcoming regalia that masters the artistry rather than the artifice of modular concatenation enough to swivel the attentive focus beyond the mediagenic hyperbole that always festers because they perpend on a fidelity of duty to the chaotic mainstream ridicule of the rigmarole in place to prevent preventable disasters because stagecraft shouldn’t be the nail in the coffin of prejudice or even the more militant counterprejudice of those that awaken to the determination that discrimination not faulted by raciology or faulty phenogenesis is always curtailed but enforced by the diacopes of our subversive inclination to disown the promontory of lawful abiding prerogatives to extend the message beyond the ludic tantrums of the tantony of those seeking indelible imprints in the evanescent fabric of forgetting that promotes the oblivion of recent events as a shattered fable of invulnerable atrocity. The impetus of impotence because of the shepherds of the dignotions of aristocratic impertinence silence the gavel into its own dirigible asylum rather than enthroning the vociferation of vehemence to ordeal rather than simpered jostles in the rumpus of the crowded sentry of pother intermediated by the fumiducts of a crumpled toxicity wilting in mediagenic warbles of malcontent but never becoming captive to the riddles of the conundrums of a time that bends by its own honor to the truculence of majoritarian upheaval but never silence the vocal incontinence of generations upset by the deranged stature of a ragged houndstooth checkered hubris of those to partial causes rather than global specters. Lets force the outrage to an impartial stature that declares that candor is a venom that beats the imposture of glaikery that suborns nothing but the vacuous insemination of chaos to reign in the interregnum of a dutiful Republic to the clashes predevoted in time to express the ordeals of outrage rather than the tribulations of awakened reckoning not to neuter the prosodemic outrage but to channel it beyond the blinkered checkers of a ridibund pasquinade of the riotous petulance of a bereaved polity endeavoring to swamp the airwaves but forgetting that the gavel depends on the eccedentesiasts filtering through the siphon of their own agenda a culpable indemnity that slithers with awakened patrons of a novantique beyond division not to excoriate false actors and instead indict true treachery where it fathoms the gravity of its own sopiter that maybe the treacle of modernity evokes the motivation rather than a fickle finicky consternation because the whittled hatred of anathema belongs to those who seek to obrogate the untenable with virulent strains of the eventual carapace of designed cackles among those who feign outrage but seek nothing more than a perdurable confederacy that is milquetoast in its arraignments of truth by enthroning BLM above the more justified causes of universal ecumenical reformation of the enlightened claque to speak beyond the fumes of the voiceless in order to entrench a new virility responsive to the mercurial enmity of divisive fricative visionaries who seek only to disempower clairvoyant clarity rather than subsume the honesty of their stature to not politicize every convenience in weaponized form for the sacrilege of impediment. The diablerists eager to expurgate my knowledge from public repositories will stop at nothing to be diminutive with finicky perseverance to decimate my legacy because the spurts of mind control that hijack me into the morning are beyond my control because they are so powerful it is very easy to craft that mind control considering they monopolize my brain to make me irrelevant.
June 5th 2020 Writing 11:03 PM MST

The drazel caitiffs of doctrinaire aplomb in the wravel of expounded litanies of resurgent acrimony borne out of the ephemeral substantive wisp of the legionnaires of the sunblind heliosis of incidental arbitrage weaken their fettle as the weal of the wednongue becomes an indomitable craven creative force of the bulldozed halvork of ochlocratic vice becoming the melancholy of truculence that besieges all simultaneous fronts to be widely echoed in the polyacoustic cisterns of favored design that we might shield Acts 17:26 and bereave our call as shepherds of an enlightened flock only to make the petty satraps and popinjays they enlist the wagtails to a normative heterodoxy of inclusive ramshackle order sizzling in the fricative fictions of articulate design beyond the flombricks that plodge their way into the edifice of vixens that the hierodules elect in the olasin wave of embedded enchantments becoming  redominage in the artifice of inconvenience that is an aswallone of the enantiodromia of the farce becoming the gladiatorial eager spectacle of decline without subversion and elevation beyond the plaintive lugubrious dirge of the antagonism itself rather than the protagonist for the zalkengur of ripe rather than brusque ribald generativity for ingeminating gammon to swill the coffers of the elite girdle of gridlock blunted by the trauma of seeing the ventilation of etiolated choleric spates that conglomerate into wellsprings of viparious welter that sinks in abaddon because of the stultimathy of the rigid sclerotic design bending in the enforcement of normative stereotypes clamoring for neoliberal and neoconservative chantage above the flays of delamination that sputter with their graunchers that the frescades of summer dawn on the least of all creation rather than fulminating against the most brawny mutilation fathomed in the spectral tomes of a hidebound liturgy lost to the fractions of time that depart from the thrombosis of planned frogmarches into delirium rather than sanitized calls for enforced radicalization that entombs too many witeless brittle and centrobaric forces to contain within these pithy gibes against the hacked jackals foisting the forest above the treetops. The rijuice of jawboned jury-rigged nescience topples the emporium of rectiserial encouragement met by a sterling brute of arbitrary boschveldt coincidental to the ragged ragtaggers of a new age paltry parched apostasy against rivulets that profane the sacred cows and demarche rather than delope against the lurid spectacles that become emergent titans draped with a ludic empowerment that is so baseline that is only its own invidious demise as the crumple of femicide wreaks havoc upon the industrious layers of filigree busted through by the hacked logic of the axile sapwood that eventually the titanism of the scaldabanco will wheedle the society we depend on for sustenance to halvork into a renewal of creative verve and sizzle rather than a flamestun flavenicker remorse of all the petty inclinations suborned  by the lewd depredation of mind and numinous authority at the clawing vehemence of deposed rigid authoritarian welds on the canvass of a dehumanized populace clanging with insistence that the decried hearsay becomes the otiose rampart to an enunciated ploy of skullduggery biding in plain sight to make those that livid luxuries enchant blind to the ecphonesis of riches in generativity rather than follies in hindsight bias bludgergrumbles which fail to elicit even the snirtle of pigs that prowl the owleries and recede into the shadowy umbrage of a demiurge of insulted bravery that they must concede the deferred plansters to warspark that the dissgowl is too prevalent to mask the albatross of their covvenger plots to swivel against the retinue of the righteous cause above the frisky dalliance with politicized gammon. Acts 17:24-31 NIV
24 “The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. 25 And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. 26 From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. 27 God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. 28 ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’[b] As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’[c]
29 “Therefore since we are God’s offspring, we should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone—an image made by human design and skill. 30 In the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent. 31 For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. He has given proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead.”
We are a churned tide of sopanaceous sultry broods infuriated by the feral clutches of the stultimathy of the clambered vipers enforcing the vespiary matrix of a womb we inhabit and cohere beyond numinous calculus or superlative counsel that we might too be called to engineer the future with imagination rather than regress into the pother of exasperation that denotes boundaries for the nations and elects the Titanic design of faultless logic superseded by the euhemerism of the futile cause banished by the barristers of recrimination by the criminals themselves that lawlessness reigns and factions among the factors that determine flaws fade into the alpenglow resistance of the galvanized deputies of enforceable doytins through the maskirovka of celebrities that scrimshank fundamental duty in order to shepherd the malevolence of causes beyond our own into their heyday of sneered scrutiny by those that possess the inclination to swerve away from manufacture and impose clarity rather than suborn fagins into the frogmarches of a radical racism reversed upon itself to condemn the source of agitprop as the vehicle to be trounced in design but never overtures to the planster economy rollicking in enthused flamestun vigor because of the trollops of a reclaimed destiny spawn a newer order of triumph rather than stench. The whinks of kisswonk warspark because they invent the flabbernounced regalia of an otiose whimper decrying a limited specter of scepsis as an enlarged totem and token to a petty tokenism of cordial respect tramples over the historic efforts of those that proceed in ceremony to tralleyripped accord swimming in vainglory to become the wallbaggers of retinoise rather than the arbitrary motions of a motatory justice configured for proper deliverance. The tiresome plastic consumerist treacle is devolved upon the spectral enemies of time that issues promulgation above the timeless as mere defeasible artifices whinking with the kisswonk of the allonker rather than the protagonism of thrusted impertinence to clangor upon the diseased noisy cacophony begging for more than a froward entreaty but a ridibund ridicule that lambastes the haranguetangs even as they writhe in contortions of largesse afforded by the henchmen of a defalcated statism bought by officialism of the licentiates lickerish in their malapert hypocrisy as they blaskerg at their complicity in the webbed design of fomented rickets of the rijuice of complexity. The heatwave of enthused disorder is a diseased artifact pounced upon by desiccated laments of prevarication that riddle the consternation of the awakened flock to the fact that the ravenous prowl above the seemliness of destiny is more integral to our warpspeed bushwhacking that needs to take place. The rigors of a sappy saccharine judiciary neutered wayspayed wesperm of profligate injustice is a humdinger invented by the sciamachies that became spectacles and the scepter of power shifted through the rudimentary siphons of a perceived moment of triumph when in fact the heterodyne retromorphosis of society is nothing but a sad vitriol flickering with vestigial promise even in alveolate protocol that simper with sidereal disarmament of intellect to spuddle through the bodged articles of a rigmarole beyond the delimited courses of the corsairs that teach the designation rather than own the polity. Despair is incongruent with the pangs of deliberative widened gazes at the celestial conformity to the wednongues of purposive violence that shatters the paradigms of peace by domestication of the sheltered animals of instinct that become an invictive stampede beyond the zoolatry that encages the swell of the crestfallen so they must always sink beneath the edifice rather than maneuver their way through the slinky potvaliance of the crimes never surmounted by rationale alone. The clench of grit is overstated but the radical riches of troves beyond contempt deserve an upbraided kempt spectrum of kenspeckel denouement rather than guarded finalism becoming an alley of escape for the podlecs who patrol the authority of law-abiding negligence. The whadronque primposition of the gavels of impetuous internment of exotic trangams that are suited habiliments to cloak the serpentine excesses of a saboteur of division inseminated in the flombricks of a flyndresque revitalization of the rudimentary gnomic apothegm that in sockdolagers of spirituel gift become an odium beyond reprisal because of the stultimathy of the tortivinity of the hackencrude revolt against prolific streams of steamy wisdom that emanate from God above but also the meddlesome inclinations of man to superimpose a cosmogony that defiles the protected and protects the cravens who submit to absolute anarchy or worse hyperarchy in a visionary attempt to trailblaze through the thickets of conundrum the best possible remonstrance against the alvantage of the farsighted announcement of a superlative strain of mettle above the finicky prestidigitation of an all-encompassed time that doesn’t genuflect to merely human traditions without a skeptical poise and pause above the frazzled contrition of the enervated tribes of belief. The trillops of the implucture that countermands my vocal denunciation of the mind control behind my steep fall from agracerie into the contemptible mud of the most opaque subversion manifest so callously and clearly among the litany of deeds done without conscientious objection that I might find myself groveling to stay above the orbit of the crambazzles as the senectitude of the septiferous frikmag enjoins further rebuke as they stay alacritous among the shibboleths they do possess because their hyped alimony is just an affront to decent justice in an indecent time. Madcap wallsongs to a squandered preeminence of intellectual titanism is a sad spate of the defecation of the vultures among the squabbles of braseros that try to disenchant me from my valorous integrity to God rather than the insipid provocateurs of a rankled craven and rancid injustice that teems with infestation beyond the curdacts of reasonable authority wielded by the henchmen of the state that needs a minatory reclamation of prowess rather than a muted mutiny against subversion itself. Mobilized by the inactivity of the dormant squirm against the wreggled mountebanks that think their derelict verdict of seedy boweries becoming the gerrymandered future of the voiceless meet the sternest reprisal in the courts of dalliance between the linear jaunty natatoriums of the futile thoughts of a disempowered alacrity to verberate the yobbery of those that superimpose disorder as a gimcrack for inane vapid provocations of insane decorum in a world whipsawed by the rankle of its own toxicity negligent about the futurition that depends on the stakes of justice rather than the cleavage of conquered cities becoming welcomed rather than fathomed and there exists a stark difference between the heralded contrition and the unsung liars who profess innocuous inoculation even when they brandish the seamstress of all dovetailed lies into a bricolage not meant to withstand even the vagaries of the uncial gains of months by the gainsay of critique which should be not a henpeck in these deplorable times but rather an epincion against the racism that festers into continual rot because the sophrosyne are impeded by the rijuice of preordination that swelters beyond all terminal diseases into a ragged moth-eaten swill of elitism. The hollowed but hallowed recourse of destiny rewards the guerdon of the long-lost patronage now disorderly in gammons to reprove the belittled taradiddles of rookery in a roodged society of roosters squawking with the simpered vitriol of agency against the marauding Viking spate of calculated diminutive crags of whittled dimensions unseen but clearly fathomed by denigrated alacrity that we might too find the paradise lurking at the end of abscess and abeyance that violently caves into the ploys of the modern ****** becoming a post-modern plea for justice rather than enervated senselessness. The lientery of abortive endeavors squabbles with the marauders who provoke the dismal glimmer of epigone rather than daunt the intrepid gauleiter with the showmanship of force beyond the demonstration of the impropriety of those stagekeepers who own the postcennium of kenspeckel macroscian hackumber that runs amok because it is neutered by the wesperm of the ingemination of futility into the mindset of conquest to bereave rather than provide well-earned fortune on the verdict of a day consummated by the squaloid vermin that scowl in protected hedges of secrecy without valor to trounce  the oppositive support for a vindicated but never finifugal society. What a debauched day where a private powerhouse of cryptadia can fossick through the thickets of sapwood and sentiment to usher in a pettifoggery known only to the brave soldiers who blare against opprobrium to the reconnaissance of departed flamestun gambits to entrench their ulterior command of a divisive spurt of econometric capitulation in catabasis rather than shepherding the valorous vigor of intrepid champions to outmaster the lingering resentments that boil into potboilers that renounce the truth only to a pickthank’s travail in overcoming the obstacles that bereave us because of a tigrine and rigid subversion of moralism in clairvoyance to become a turgid refuse of the offal of chattel lost in a frapplank with an otiose but revived assault on the precipice that cadges the lewdness of rumpus over the donnybrooks of donnism itself. The glamborge of the amporge that relegates all consideration in ransom to the truthful declaration of coarse sentiments from the clutches of an unrepentant evil that lurks shadowy and invulnerable as it cripples entire generations of thought into the messy vitriol of froward fomented officialism in malcontent over its own incompetency that I might meet and beat the rapknocks that thwart my eloquence and the privy internecine swivels of a newly minted prerogative to own autarky above the doytin of the aimless ridicule that swims in an ocean of debauched lies professed by the rigmarole of flickers of anointment fading below the scepter of righteous might that I might make more generations captive to the highest order of conation rather than the unwitting dupes of the ulterior sabotage of the elitism that seeks to expurgate history against the samizdat of maskirovka becoming evident that the benumbed stupefaction I now linger between and around will fade into a heightened stratosphere that renounces former sin and parades the righteous justice of novantique that learns from wayward profession the ability to navigate toe-to-toe with the throngs of oppositive saboteurs relinquishing any attempts at seamless order of the dovetailed might of the empowered conscience because their ******* enchantments are a vehicle for a depredation without rebuke and a sentimentalism that foments nothing but the worst fumiducts into the cadges that perdition permits but God exorcises because of people like Epenetus who survived with valor in Asia despite its hostility. I am dismantled by a juggernaut which is often repudiated for its thuggery and menacing dacoitage to make my thoughts seem like a philander with colposquinomia rather than the callisteias and kalons that effervesce into a remedial triumph in these lagging hours where my vigor is a vapid emanation of a withheld empathy becoming an entreaty to simplicity rather than a beacon of vaulted virtuosity that uses sheen to deplore the undercroft while surmounting the challenge to destroy the umbrageous evil of the camorra that lurks behind a curtailed curtain of infallible designs conflated by banausic pretense to curb rights rather than inform duties to apprise those rights as integral enough to swarm the grievances and belong to propriety rather than sink the sunken hidden  mainour of restive intellect above the fray and frazzle of meaningless absurd contrition that belongs to another century beyond my own foresight. The surgical emoluments of crafty duplicity attempt their forestalled delay of my charisma and duende to enrage the battalions rooting for the intellectual clutches of tentacles of revivalism to spark the flamestun of powerful admissions of guilt that they tremulously balk at the religious authority of magistrates because of the witted menace of the deliberate provocation of the worst most untimely sentiments to become cacoethes of a plucky reductionism that makes the puerile sempervirent rather than the ontocyclic countermanded by the periblebsis of flavor above the sultry vacuum of the listless entropy of an evil overhang of swandamos that skillfully delegate meted disaster to portend over the future bailiwick of my own behest craven by tribulation but emboldened by the humane interface that my heyday is among the future articles in the limelight rather than the irrelevance of glaikery to the tomfoolery of the captaincy of a conscience bereaved rather than a conscience reclaimed by the inferior bastions that sulk the crapehanger recruitment of all demented barks that recoil without civil exactitude at precise purpose perpendicular to my swank and emanating the forces of the benighted world upon the clairvoyance of the chosen virtues of a New Testament understanding that shelves Deuteronomistic Law as among the curtailed remonstrance of inefficacy belonging to a barbarous time where the incondite superseded the others by pomp and celebration alone that incense should be recensed against the termagants that wage war on the ridicule of revival.
Now that the brunt of the oppressor congeals his thickened plot of muddy turgid heterodyne syncopation of effete ideology rather than ecumenical unity we see unmasked the true author of vitriol belongs not to the sour malignancy of the rijuice of crime but the criminal repartees of the negligence of abiding saccharine creatures that swamp the light of day with the shrouds of connivance to dethrone the ecumenical insistent endeavor to provide novantique to maidan lands and renew the vigor of the people beyond the temporary temporal subversion of trite tortneyed hackencrude whadronque against the flyndresque refracturism that solders with one united cry for a belittled peace to become a mighty warrior against the decried deposition of majesty upon inclement hours that portend to future calamities wrought by the banausic barleychildren of an otiose corruption wilted in the dead fields of our forefathers littered with the graves of sacrilege in unnecessary consecrations of sacrifice that become unholy vestiges of the rampicks of ordeal because they are drenched with the stigma of belonging to the witeless travail of the wreggled imposture of a maleficence negated by beneficence only enough to permit my respiration in the conservatories of resonant reasons to reach to the stars and their starry-eyed surprise to the delight of generations that truckle but to the doom of those that refuse the grandeur of God’s gratuity to enlist an exemplary agracerie of insulted jaundice fuming with avenues of deception that seek to crush my vindication in order to rollick in the ruin of the shambolic craters of a beleaguered apostolic duty to inform the world that the librations of the quivering moon are a scattershot of whemmled liberation rather than an aimless scourge of prosodemic interpolation fused to an incorrigible calculus that seeks my temporal femicide even with the eternal guilt that amaranthine flowers fade because of the grit of tenacious boschveldt ploys to trample with oppression rather than voice the properly aggrieved complaints of the victimization of privilege rather than the assaults of vainglory upon the outrecuidance that leads away from the humility of God’s grace and into the doomsayers that renounce my dignotions of contempered metaphor as some minor boyg of the evaporative sentiments of a fickle nation crumbling because of the treacle of violence rather than cloyed by the proper castigation of elementary logic becoming superlative in its annulment of the confederate licentiousness of depraved autarkies livid with contumely against the agentic force of a rictus of merriment denounced as an impropriety in a time where fewer virtues are confirmed than many injustices hallowed as the cement for a new world built less on noogenesis and more on the piebald skeumorphs of bricolage countermanding my swift embarkation to a land of promise rather than a staid quilted repartee of the tapestries beyond that proclaim open season upon my impediments to the frikmag subterfuge that reasts upon the recocted mediagenic formulas that will cosher the cosseted vengeance of an evil time rather than the yernage of simplicity designed to forgive the oblivion of conscientious errors in derelict fashions of knavery that they might be expunged from the record to entrench the value and pertinacity of original seminal balks at the currency of the exchequer of the hidden boschveldt which supersedes my attempts to foil its own benighted plots scalding with enormity but hidden from the vantage of the commonwealth to guard the vestigial neuroscience of craven caitiffs who beleaguer me with incestuous deceptions of the pederasty of immoralism. Now that I have launched a flanked assault on the rigmarole of the confederate polity of mistaken grandeur using the maskirovka of inane bleats to conform to the idolatry this world should revile but instead confirms with the lecherous tentations of empiricism wed to the naivety of blank-slate politics we espouse the highest creed afforded to the righteous that belief in the calvary and the agony suffered for our sake is more than a token emolument it is the paradigm that shuffled civilization into endearment and rebuked the catamites and hierodules that scampered throughout the Earth without any recourse as their ironclad vestiges of tridents of petty gauleiters of a suborned authority fell milquetoast and riddled with the foraminated scars of a now cortinate world caught in a trespass of the inviolable screeds that inform the spirit of God to stampede towards the righteous avenue rather than shrink in sheepishness that the revelations of our author our grandest King who reigns beyond the shadows and filters the light of the sun and holds the mountains on a scale of balance that we might curb to his divine majestic formula for renewal rather that glower in an iteration of enmity divorced from the true justice of Almighty Creation to invoke oblivion upon puerile deeds and consummate the highlight  reel of a generation that depends not upon the renewal of the newfangled vogue but the invocation of the spirit of the words of God so that we all might meditate in conation and consecution our privy path to the ways of light beyond the brackish afterglow of a distasteful gloat over hibernaculum that relish after the calamity rather than rest against the girouettism ****** upon us by the siege of bronteums beyond the power of thunder to rebuke that the scales of history vindicate the power of the righteous voice rather than tremble because of the flickering mettle of people that squirm in attrition rather than balk the servitude of servilism that endangers our perpended glance at the eternal lychgate ajar for belief and conviction but closed to the finicky agents that cadge the elements of perdition into constellated forces of abrasive recrimination against a vacuum that anathematizes itself as nothing more but a prop of a propitiated absurdism in a nulliverse of our own creation rather than our goaded resolve to witness the finality of God and behold the splendor of the history he carved through justice rather than impediment to rejoice at the final awakening that swings against the puerile betrayal of evil and renews the promise of temenos and reverence. We have already within our tenacious grasp yet crippled by the memory of opprobrium compounded by finicky formant and froward vehicles that poisoned the wellsprings of the righteous with the cowardice of persecution that curglaff is an unnecessary and abominable relic of the regelation of society into a morass of interregnum that seeks a delimited lawlessness to supersede the vocal clarification that God’s grace depends not only on the volition of conviction known to the body of composite belief but also that the pangs of modern consternation are deliberately provoked to renew an equity that trembles when the revved engines of personal entelechy become titanism that enlarges the pleckigger of deprivation so that all might feast on the transubstantiation of the figurative forms of shadow into the permanent light of abeyance found in jolts of awakened liberty above the corrugation the visagists of plastic cosmogony invoke to inflame turpitude and ransack the perfidious deceptions of former proclivities to swindle the world with a powerful beacon of deceptive flourescein that straggles boundaries in its casuistry to invoke an AstroTurf malignancy to prevail over the righteous words of the sentries of God rather than the epigones that balk at the soteriology of a wide-eyed curiosity for a world desperate for something more ennobled to discuss because the otiose tittup of pretense masquerades as an avenue to the ways of the Lord even when failing its fundamental duty to rebuke the constellations of puerile enchantment that rob the dignified of their perch only to enthrone the owlery of calculated gambits of nescience compounded by the dacoitage of the bomans that guard vigilantly the aim of billingsgate but rarely conceal the maleficence of the heliosis of the hibernation of conscience in times where the entire world was betrayed by a staged artifice that sadly achieved its vengeance upon its own recrimination by sultry broods of provocation without the outsmarted resolve of the many refusing to crumble into the checkered hubris of bias bias that subverts entelechy. The bland blandishment of appeased ego remains the ulterior affront to the alienavesced flapdoons of eccentric orbific forces at work beyond the philandered grasp of wraveled mendicants that spurn the sparrows for their dovetailed wallop of the radical agenda of separatism rather than the humbled modesty of those that seek in God’s word that lasts eternally the modicum of truth necessary to defeat the encroachment of an oleaginous regress of reactionary doctrinaire foments of syndicated hatred becoming the wilt of girouettism to spawn the draksteng of terminus but scald the provenance of foresight as a reckless soundracketeer that mounts an acme to see the apogee for its truest clarity rather than its pathetic resemblance to the true nature of the transmogrified impotence of the world to heal itself when the clamor and clangor of defamation is permitted to scowl vindictively at the armamentarium of assemblies of truth marching heroically down the journey of itineration to invoke God above the mercurial nature of hamartia among the men and even the titans silent in the recoil of provocateurs of the most impotent justice for relegated creeds renewed in the hackencrude to desiccate the desert rather than seed ingeminations of the centupled quandaries becoming quarries of lavadero siphons of the truer enlightenment found in the God we all serve with benevolence rather than neglect because we earnestly renege the careful cull so that we are not swamped by intellectual pretense but that we walk in light of emulation always reverential of the ultimate kisswonk of the authoritarian nightmare becoming the crapehanger against the buoyancy of clarified virtue disentangled from tertiary and subsidiary meaning as a vindication of history that it anoints its strident defenders before it finds guilt in intrepid endeavor. The malice of wiggletemper of flakmention depending on the testy shroff of trykle as the swallock of bleats squandering the proficuous light of the Lord because they pale with their pallor and nebbich cretaceous calculus to delimit things in ordinary times that despise extraordinary prowess because of hapless seances with the spectral doom of empowerment leads down a despicable path littered with estanders of vinsky robbed of their prominence at such a milquetoast juncture that the timid become entrepreneurs of the wiggletemper of those they seek gradgrind control of through euthenics that they might also be rebuked by their faulted subhastation because they orbit the life of brackishness in a catadromous world only to benefit from the collapse of civil disorder into the mercurial foment of sizzling calamity that  belongs to the hotbed spell of draksteng and rancid calumniation of all goodwill and meritorious discernment  that seeks once and for all the beneficence of the compassionate and eager servants of the embodied visages of creation to coagulate into an urbane movement that owns enough leverage over kitsch yobbery to renounce the former prerogative for the selfless ambiguity of repudiation met with cloaked valor in the tempests of an obscene mockery of timely judiciousness only because of a provincial oversight into overtures of affair rather than merely just scandal. Leaping with vaulted foudroyance against the noisome ridicule of imperseverant trollops and trangams that astound slot-machine politics as the gimcrack that gerrymanders the tortoise by the waterdrips of inseminated vagary superimposed by the cordial respite of egestuous pallor into an insubordination against a system rigged beyond sloganeering to favor the wise instructor and his recourse of tutelage we must summit the articles of contrition shrived properly by a shared atonement that the perfectibilism of God’s magnates becomes a magnetic fascination of those who are dancing vertiginously with centrifugal hatred armed at the pretense of justice that bandies with muted solidarity to a trite hackneyed truth rather than surpassing former imagination into the frontier of serendipity founded on discovery rather than lackaday otiose portents becoming the fixation of the elementary canon yet devolved in splendor because of balderdash of bletherskates who evade justice and squander power only to their own demise as the kerygma we champion has the power to defeat the snares of the wicked enchantments that make parturition difficult because of the aboriginal lapse of the protoplasm from which smithy we belong ultimately to in the provenance of a contempered history of the lineage of God foreseeable to the lineaments of man carved from his image that rebuke should be upon the lips of the sophrosyne while restraint should hamshackle us into fiduciary duty beyond vassals and rapscallions but better than the ripe codlings of urbacity predict because evasive maneuver catapults jaunty sleek destinies we have yet to entwine into our magistrates enough to demand reparation humbled by its powerlessness or contrarian power structures to mettle the scoundrels that police the towns that matter to the strings of harmony sweltering against privilege rather than scoffing at  the disdainful apparatus of contravention established by the riotous outrages rather than the picaresque yernage of heyday rather than mayday. The very predicate of darkness invokes the presence of light and love to prevail over the vacuum relinquished by the enantiodromia of a transubstantiation of benighted virtue to become a parallax mirrored imagery of whiplash that assaults the pedigree of any juggernaut conundrum becoming a boyg in rapid decline to reprove itself in order to vanquish the fundus and the mainour relished by the ****** gawsy attempts to blinker the hubris of the kenspeckel because the owlery of pettifoggery seeks a delaminated prevalence of hamartia rather than ergotall wisdom that deafens the aspiration but enables the fascination to swell in the rhythmic squalor of the oceans belittling those who dwell in habitations of landed gentry that they might be the fewterers of a new kennel rather than a lapse of deracination seeking a final excuse to dismiss peremptory wisdom because the thorns of coverthrow are no longer permitted by the mediagenic titans that spotlight a maleficence of haplessness over the lore of glorification and the splendor of light.
The rindstretch of insular plaudits against the fiddle of foghorns of blaring semaphores of singled and signaled alarm are swashbucklers against a systematic tribance of the slivverdeck of the fatewrench of many outmastered by the fox hounds who swoop beyond their natural inclination to corner the tripwires that the graklongeur of the enervated mediagenic effigy of justice proclaims we must renounce the horrified countenance of the disempowered and seek the agraceries of tremendum that forgives the trespasses of deliberative mind control to foment a squabble of lifeless puerility and must fasten our commitment to a perdurable creed that shelters the just cause from the pertinacious wiseacres of those who blankly stare at the realms of salvation groaking for the sustenance of their own erratic happenstance because they scowl by prediction what is denatured by rendavation of the entitled man to his entitled coverage despite the traipses against polity wagered by the rivulets of the swamp rather than the brooked endeavors of scampered sullen swelter to manage the prideful intolerance of kenspeckel injustice. The flarmey of obganiation built on the grindole of the hambaskets that relish the comfortable commode of the nosocomial hospice of irregular griffonage despise the faction that annihilates the narrative fliction of mobilized regress for nominal taunts of the hindsight progress motatory in subtlety whereas the sublime becomes a tapestry embedded by the sly wry grins of eccedentesiasts deciding the worth of revalorized mettle against the hypostatized glamour of aborning generations shielded from the phenakism of the media juggernaut discarding me because of deliberate sabotage by mind control that made me look foolhardy when in fact I am a master of my own victory rather than a passing fad of the trinkadour odontoloxia of the aggrieved prejudice of an unrelenting flash mob of regaled violence.
Gimdermangs rollicking in gregarious solemn indentilation by the slellums of their own negligence in shouting the hollertraps of a castigated caste of renegade hamshackled buffoons escaping the levity of the turmoil of finicky magpiety that elects cockamamie sentimentalism to lead a country desperately in need of reformatory order that oppugns mind control for my downfall and exonerates me for my trespasses against adulthood because to define a person by a solitary transgression that was remanded into being by the siphon of nefarious force calumniating an abject philter as a frolicsome naivety is a poison rather than a posture because the relegated dissgowl in the silentium of their asylum because they protest how quickly an evaporated story of flarmey can overpower the memory of their triumph scalds the conscience of superimposition of counterfeit scruples discrediting the rengall beliefs that stabilized the world for generations beyond and generations before my hallowed prophecy and thereby they should occlude this pother and ceremoniously induct me beyond infumated hatred of cosmetic cosmogony in order to belong to the tribunes that reserve the mention but despise the deplorable in a vacuous silentium of obrogated truth.
The trimscreet glorified by their altruism in triumphant verdict rather than spurned flarmey of a resigned obligation that renounces righteous splendor in order to coverthrow the system in attempts at regalia found only in the newsworthy hyperbole rather than the simpered luxuriance that suborns lawless chaos rather than turgid effervescence berating the gnostic grapnels of keelhauled curglaff that remands a separatism rather than a desperation. Vocal by the retinue of provocation the mediagenic hyperbole is finifugal and retrofugal simultaneously because it sees a decrepit flarmey of qwersy maleficence becoming a perpetual throng for the crowded rumpus of relegation to shield the light of day from the preeminence of an umbrageous character benumbed by the litter of an apostasy beyond caricature and a diminished ethics of normative squaloid imposture impoverishing my future to highlight the few rattled errors of the crotaline sabers that ****** me into negligence rather than offer piety and suffrage to a recklessness that belongs to the arbitrary witticisms of a bulldozer carapace of indignity as my modern-day slavery is glossed over in favor of an interminable oppression that glazes the fascination of beadledom but promotes nothing regenerative within the constitution of society to fundamentally provoke reform like my henpecks at mandarism proclaim with every measured step to avoid the dimples and freckles of the foraminated hatred the media glowers with as it ruins another gossamer life because of a rijuice of the retinoise of the noisiest conflagration of recent memory.
Stupefaction aimed at noisome odium that simmers in the smithy of formative duress is a recourse by shameless eccedentesiast rot of moral virtues that perpend on the issues of sin and righteousness and the infested erratic trimpoline buffoons that gravitate towards the overmilked hypocrisy of justifying racial inequality while memorializing apartheid by negligence of the proper recourse is surmounted by a challenge to supremacy rather than a sunken vitriol of inefficacy because the selachostomous boatswains of ribald wesperm should never be the ultimate ullagone for pontifical authority accorded upon me by the latrias which sustained generations past and engrave future generations to scald indemnity and fight the corruption that festers into a primordial corrosion which spares few cogwheels from the missionary zeal of revocation belittling heroic triumphs because of the tittup of angled anger at a momentary flaw slamming the virtuosity of entire generations just to supersede my story as an enemy of the whadronque.
The sputtering engine of a ribald cackle at my ephorized vainglories prompted by the outrecuidance of defiance rather than a petty allegiance to a corporatism outstretched but now refusing to account for their missteps of hapless promontories of fizzling racial injustice to seek the defeasible prerogatives I once enjoyed eradicated from the semblance of the sane sanitization of all history beneath the unfurled triumph of what is now whittled into the henpecks of rigor rather than the lackaday compunction of officialism that scoffs at people who indict the system for its jaundice and permit  the flarmey of designation to eternalize the struggle yet efficacy of that struggle to dismount the sejungible pathway in a walloped error of rigged judgment because the convenience of thorns is understated and the elective privilege of generations is not a ****** gaffe worthy to be marginalized by the sempervirent fortress of duplicity but  rather exonerated from the skeumorphs of forgotten lapses whisking the timely into promontories of the timeless slivverdeck of the wrikpond beyond its own reckoning.
With schematic consolidation fathoming the subtleties of the taxemes of the scaffold that is an aperture into the flanged derangement of the senseless becoming a sejungible recrimination of itself while becoming bloviated by an internecine balkanization that grovels in servilism that it shepherds the penury of the querulous into renounced rebukes and suborns the cadge of conundrum into a lactose intolerant subterfuge may we marvel at the mediagenic kenspeckel realism that fights armed with the vesicles of perdition a war to enthrone a darkened visage of an exemplary titan as a subsidiary nuance and nuisance for  the planned demolition of contrite solidarity predicated only on the mind control of pettiness becoming solidified as more magnificent than all of the deeds accounted for by the metagnomy of time that now fumes in lapsed accord that the intorgurent hypocrisy of militant fumiducts of duplicity scampers the Earth to provide asylum only for  the privileged rather than sanction for the validated truths that oblivion cannot cast aside and that the inerrant standards of a finicky justice cannot forget but the trespass of modernity to encroach upon my sanctuary with the traipses of the tripwires of involuntary cacoethes to ruinous plumage will be held to account for their misfeasance as the drowned sorrows of one unjust death can mobilize millions while the phenakism of one untold soul can do nothing but reiterate the pointed critique of happenstance against the authors that redintegrate the societal matrix into an accordion that bellows out not a toxicity of an urbane fascination but the permanence of belief among neither the unctuous nor the monoideistic tribes of society.
The tribunes of mendaciloquence relish their phenakism of demoting me because of the tortneyed triumph of planned extortion surmounts the challenges to foment societal engraved injustice that doesn’t apologize for its bulldozer machinations because in unrepentant hearts of those that refuse to shrive for contaminating the collapse of a heroic visage and visagist of the eternal order they cast aside compunction and elevated the tittups of maleficence above the piggyback that shelves the memory of malice and provides bridges rather than sultry mendicants of petty satrap authority to impose beadledom over enthused righteousness which cannot be forfeited by an involuntary mistake invisible to all ears but the ones that illegally spied on me that I might forever be banished by the  barristers of protective oligarchy fomenting their oligochrome into black-and-white specters that remediate only minor atrocities rather than the ribald pother of invulnerable aristocracy lost in abandon and hyped into rampant scorn by the trepidations of underminnow to curtail righteousness rather than proclaim the fruits of the spirit. John 10:27 reminds us all that a mere posture of humility rendered inefficacy by the barnstorm of profligate mendicants who repudiate the incarnation of love and light as a retch worthy of nothing but the prolonged glower of a simmering disdain need to remind themselves with gratitude built in their foundations that if it wasn’t  for me the acceleration of valor and the entrenchment of virtue would be a muddy miscegenation of garbled gabble of prioritization that triages racial apartheid its sublime champion rather than the rags-to-riches ascendancy of the coryphaeus of the righteous congregation rather than the bethel of invented conditions of contingent reaffirmation that they must account for their lapse and atone for their negligence because my proofs of God outweigh your fictions of man and all voices know that the deceit of your glamborge of surfeit that installs a racial epithet as your prolonged scalding disclosure as a reminder of your fickle loyalties to fiduciary competence in a time beckoning the righteous assembly rather than the turpitude of the chicanery of devolution rather than evolution because no momentary lapse is worthy of the pangs of remorse I now feel because the cherished vintage world you renounce is the captain of the billowing ship aimed at your provisions of countermanded vitriol and vindicated by  every justifiable word that my memory will not be a sullen disclaimer of the temporary disdain of a finicky world but the ultimate providence of a just God who never abandons the manager of his flock in times of produce and prudence rather than your deadstock revival of cowcatcher ignorance.
Entrapped by a cobweb of entreaty that appeases the toonardical reverence for the bulwarks of sanitized revelry funded by the virulence of provocative schemes to depose lawful assembly by ****** calculations meant to dissuade the righteous assembly of those who profess and believe deeply within their compunction that God is the master vindication of the human race the world doesn’t need another potboiler prevarication of a haranguetang that doesn’t even read their own conscience as they mindlessly  spout out radical propaganda to demerits and declension rather than majesty in effectuated justice that commands the sentries of authority into a battle between energumens and anacampserotes because my eutrapely is unsurpassed by the outrecuidance of those who think that esteemed negligence outmantles the appearance of spiritual penury despite the glaringly obvious fact that I spearhead a revolutionary prowess rather than a recyclable spear of hatred that devolves into an abortive obganiation that you meddle with so nefariously to seek the retinoise of the false covenant rather than the voice that needs to be heard and exonerated from purblind error rather than prolonged castigation. John 15:26 vindicates me completely. Isaiah 61:1
The callous excuse for my ultimate segregation from the human fraternity and a preclusion of my ascendant destiny is predicated on the maleficence of a recycled lie that my posture is crippled by thoughtlessness upon awakening provoked by hypnopaedia yet you fail to acknowledge that the darkness that exists in this world is a fault-finder of querulous retched factitious reasons to abandon me to the stench of abaddon rather than enthusing the courtesy of a world  that overlooks the blench of manufactured errors by the graklongeur that seeks convenient dismal dismissal as a capstone epitaph on a grave leaden with so much controversy yet provocative and evocative of so many truthful trumperies against the prevarication of stilted liars bolted to a rigid conduct code that determines who breathes and who survives in a world where the viable are renounced by the heresiarchs of finicky hatred with prosodemic vengeance upon their bletherskate mentalities. Insurrection is effete against the machinations of church and state using officialism as a decoy in the dacoitage of eternal infamy superseding the victory of fame against the roiled slummock of those who prepossess themselves on hamartia rather than overlook an involuntary trespass because they have magnanimity engraved in their heart and are suspicious of the connivance of the enemy trying to depose me because of an overwrought vindictive ****** against the liberated class Isaiah 50:8-11 NIV He who vindicates me is near.
    Who then will bring charges against me?
    Let us face each other!
Who is my accuser?
    Let him confront me!
9 It is the Sovereign Lord who helps me.
    Who will condemn me?
They will all wear out like a garment;
    the moths will eat them up.
10 Who among you fears the Lord
    and obeys the word of his servant?
Let the one who walks in the dark,
    who has no light,
trust in the name of the Lord
    and rely on their God.
11 But now, all you who light fires
    and provide yourselves with flaming torches,
go, walk in the light of your fires
    and of the torches you have set ablaze.
This is what you shall receive from my hand:
    You will lie down in torment.

The telltale signals of a decadent mediagenic menace is its ability to shield the avetrols of guarded privilege while suborning the rest of the world to derelict the prescient visionaries that clamber through the rugged halls of a tattered time beyond the dominion of petty persecution because the righteous valor of the oppressed overcomes the oppressor only when the saboteurs account for their glaring blaring errors of flagstench that feed the toonardical deception that flashbangs through the smoke of a rigmarole of time to dismount the perceived profligacy of the innocent without compunction for the suffrage of their just cause. The defamation and femicide waged against me is terrified of prosodemic enlightenment rather than the rugged turgid slummock descent into madcap cockamamie identity politics that invokes no justice but professes indemnity because the world deserves a better fate than the one currently chiseled at by the militant scepsis of ulterior graft. The cement of the bricolaged tension of lawlessness is sternly rebuked by the liturgies of the informed who balk at superstitious gibes as articles of the lazarattea resistant to change and glowering with a misguided sense of hatred to aim their vitriol squarely at me rather than enjoining the media from piggybacking on the regress rather than the progress of civilized societies and it is a turnstile of rapid-fire death that provokes people to undercut rather than underscore my heroic legacy which might seem like a picaresque knavery but in reality  represents the triumph of the supernal numinous realm to castigate the Earthly perdition of swollen ignorance too bolted firmly into place by stricture rather than anointed by scriptural purpose that solidifies the legacy of the few heroic enough to castigate the bulwarks of authoritarianism to turn everyone against me in ploys of desperation to ensure my demise by a slowpoke turnaround reviled aplomb that suits the decorum of the backstabbing media in its petty vindication that it elevated my cause only to demolish it in a matter of minutes to ensure I died alone and forlorn when in fact I am the most triumphant voice for truth and intellectual revolution this generation has yet witnessed and nothing can deprive me of my right to exist on a world of turpitude that I might puncture the balloons of superstitious pretense on the grounds they are convenient inkthorns that vituperate rather than circulate my emboldened embroidery of the candor of vicissitude rather than entomb the lifeless carcass of vendetta waged for centuries against my ennobled cause and causality.
My compunction leads me to believe the mediagenic cartel is absolutely terrified about my ability to roam free right at the convenient time when I can lollop about in freedom so they piggyback with charlatans spouting  the fumiduct of lies and escort them to prominence and preeminence because they fear what I could accomplish in the light of day walking in the grace of the Lord rather than suborned into a walking terror that dismantles my plumage overnight because of an expediency primarily because they fear their own reprisals which outnumber their laurels by a large margin by monopolizing the minds of the resourceless and provoking them into needless panic or restive frenetic frenzy just because they seek to expurgate the wizened sophrosyne wisdom of the attenuated truth from reaching more ears and captivating more minds to reject  their purebred dogmatism. Their desperation to  dethrone my eloquence and imprison my elegance within a narrow cloister of a forever ignominy is a petty vindictiveness of unfettered hamshackles of panicky resentment that fears my uproarious rise through the ranks of enchantment rather than the bedazzled frontier of evil knaveries I hereby rebuke in the strongest terms because they suffocate the victim of years of benighted persecution and just when there is a strong lambent light awaiting me at the other end of the tunnel they squelch my rights to be heard and nullify all of my majestic feats because of brinkmanship in complete dereliction of their moral duty to serenade this prophecy to completion rather than the havoc of the disorderly rumpus of the mannequin charade they have a harder time containing than their tenuous grasp on the litter that fumes with atrocity without rebuke as they seek partisan war  rather than rectiserial arrays of compromise and whomever is behind this debauched ploy to estrapade because I represent a virulent threat to their system of inculcation will be judged mercilessly on the days of judgment that await them on the other side of their ridiculous barnstorms of benighted muddy opaque statemanship that sees me as collateral damage unavenged when I will be the marksman of authority if never estranged from the emanation of light that percolates beyond boundaries of country and state to encourage proactive literacy while they suborn the sopiters of the operose negotiosity of yesteryear while I clamber for formulas to rectify the divided human race into the fellowship of polite polity rather than brusque decimation of character that is a violent scourge of the scurrilous fear of the elite that I might swell too much in power if unchecked or that I might simper too much in lugubrious natures if unfed but either way their doom is spelled out because fewer and fewer people choose the virus of the news to pollute their lives with half-baked belletrist of evil maleficence that goes unfettered in its demarche trying to appease the authoritarians rather than solder together in the bonds of liberty and the tithes to the family structure we should all uphold beyond the wretched enslavement of weak politics becoming an engine of unrefuted graft menacing the streets rather than providing recourse for the permanently oppressed rather than the turgid emboldened proclamations that denigrate their petty gauleiter stature as an imposture greater than any I have ever mounted because I am always authentic and God is on my side rather than the side of the aggressive martexts endangered by free thought. 1 Peter 2:9 showcases that my existence is a preordained outcome of virtue over the squalor of depravity that ransacks the venal minds of those who fear my emergence from the throes of isolation so much that they hoist the mythos of persecution even higher with sensationalized bodewash common more to the drazels and humgruffins of the thuggery in Hollywood than the decent upright men of stature that these foolhardy eccedentesiasts represent in the minds of men that ponder the inescapable monopoly of a media cartel that feeds the impoverished with the slavering hypocrisy of groaks and sheepish bleats sublimated against righteousness to promote the wages of sin and death rather than becoming ardent rejoinders of the stature of corruption on our Earth to swivel against its greatest champions in order to enthrone fake paragons in the canon and dismiss the eager readership motivated towards curtailed change that seeks the deposition not of my righteous valor but the lies spoonfed to the crambazzles that are tethered to the monopoly of subliminal subterfuge in a realm dominated by domineering graft that is so obvious in the frikmag that they seek to eradicate my memory from the formulas of time so that fewer people see past the blinkered hubris of the coalescence of evil tribes trying to superimpose order over mass chaos and expect different outcomes when their partisan leanings lead to a weal of aristophrens that feel begrudged by their privilege that now avenge the righteous truth of my belonging to the fellowship of God rather than the agency of the nefarious that subverted me in my prominence and preeminence to make me look foolish when the evil diatribes behind it cower behind their publicity stunts and double-take still-framed moments and use that underminnow to undercut rather than underscore my message of invictive accountability in the mediagenic sphere so that the causes of family rather than forsifamiliation prevail with their righteous bailiwick over the termagants of a mercurial man dissuaded by duende and charisma rather than enchanted by the exercise of latitude and license in the rejuvenated youth of the forever young who celebrate their limelight rather than revolt against the people who suborn evil against it because of petty gripes unsubstantiated to institutionalize dogmatism of a more casuist order that ingeminates the radicalization of people against religion in my absence rather than the convent of people who seek the concave absolution of time to abolish the sinful depravity of the wretched conclaves begging for my eternal persecution.
The ultrageous ultradian rhythms of the heterochrony of delusion spoon-fed by mediagenic sopiter to the guileless audience of grangull bedazzled crambazzles or those who lack the abiding access to the internet is a mannequin taxidermy of plastic values that crumples instantaneously when met by the scorn of the ultroneous mistakes of hypnopaedia that suborns the lawless puerile ontocyclic reversions that become ullagones to lost authority withered in the respite of the virulent winds of change that lost in translation their squelch of vehemence only backfires because if you think about it the American system of media is completely rigged by a few henchmen think tanks at  the top of the rectiserial food chain of privilege where the henpecks are bossy and unrepentant while the clangor of din crowds out the rumpus of donnybrooks while clearing the way for insuperable graft to micromanage the petty souls clinging to the vitriolic acerbic whimper of a defeated mediagenic squalor that finds fewer avenues of recourse than ever before to refute the poignant realism that Trump is validated in his conviction that the media is a malignant force of the enemy rather than a boanerges of elective enlightenment because now that they have called my case forlorn and exhumed the corpses of a few black men to overshadow my preeminence of infamy they are dredging on all channels the ruinous psephology of belittlement to ingratiate the overlords who maximize the peak of the pessimum while the stock market roars because of intelligentsia movements that are a rollicking subsultus that revs up the system against reversal and towards the parallax of Heaven and Earth with the celestial neighbors cheering our triumph rather than jeering an intellectual revolution I helped to manufacture by my obfuscated but sublime rejoinders against the ultrafidian or nullifidian credence that milks lactose intolerance and steamy racism to an amaranthine purpose of subversion of Republic and betrayal of core Constitutional Principles that stand just as inviolable as the renewed covenant ushered in by the latria of aggiornamento far behind and beyond my travails because the retromorphosis of a fearful society no longer quails in restive frenzy because they now see right through the parched thirst of the mediagenic juggernaut for ulterior control of the impressionable through the subtle nudge of agitprop in the formula of dissolution that disembarks to foreign interests faster than you can call them out for being verboten with their stigmatophilia that obsesses over the minauderie of graft with their eccedentesiast bomans guarding the show with the sizable appeal of livid personas on a carousel of enantiodromia of respectable order as an underbreath of the pasteurization of the sterile Republic that bends more to the underminnow of involuntary subterfuge waged by the vehement enmity of the agentic force behind the promulgation of heatwaves of intellectual furor now retreating into comfortable commodes beyond the fray of embrangled hatred because they see the easy recourse is just to all embrace the hollow sloganeering that enthused past generations but with vehement frikmag we see past the graklongeur because we are famished of relativism in truth as the absolute arbiters that restrict us with trespass and bludgeon the indelible imago of ignominy above the embroidery of progressive salvation from the slavering groaking incompetence of people that are unipotent in the wrong direction is now outmantled by the irenology of people that distance themselves from the furor of confused ideology that is a prop for ironclad idolatry that spurns my wisdom because it indicts their intrepid trespass as an inviolable blasphemy because their ultimation of neglect provokes my assault on the fact that six major media outlets are the only source of live commentary on Television and many fewer people are in charge of the zeal for reprobate politics that fuels against revolutionary intellectual revision the policies that can contribute to the dismantled caste system that currently runs congress pullulating with pickthanks and wagtail terriers to the encroachment of mandarist tyranny that is rarely if ever brassaged properly because if they had it their way I would be the exhumed corpse of a dignitary from a foreign land buried in the charnel after the battues of indignity walloped me into prone submissiveness because they cadge the inclement belief that some puerile ontocyclic invention of the state that oppresses me makes me culpable for being a fictional prophet when I-in my honest estimation-am the most significant prophet for intellectual truth in the past millennium and among the top three prophets born in the past millennium behind Martin Luther and Joseph Smith and that with the help of the juggernauts that beseech the authorities to overlook petty frethorns of mind control I could overwhelm the world with vespiaries of militant truth percolating throughout the noosphere to enthrone enlightenment above the frazzle of combustible outrage that enslaves many lesser patrons that capitalize on outrage to ventilate the inferiority of their station while becoming maudlin props in the pacification of all to a kumbaya agenda that always is blinkered in its oblivion about Hispanic representation and thereby is a squaloid engine with selachostomous posture that devours the soul of an entire nation festers it into prolonged violence and meditates without remorse over how it exasperated an already suffocated situation with further infestations of deplorable opprobrium that was leniently reported as though this cadge would unseat the Republic to diminish the wagered campaign of orthopraxy against the ridicule of those who seek the decimation of candor and who seek to anathematize my revelations of truth as tertiary vehicles rather than primary movers. The typhlophiles that run amok with their petty ubications of usucaption of the funneled channels of graft undeterred or daunted by the intrepid intelligentsia which seeks with esquivalience to ditch the mainstream agenda and bandwagon with the promontory of craggy truth rather than reviled blarney and blench that steamy idiots will cling too with more pertinacity than the educated zealot will cling to the 2nd amendment is an affront to civilized decorum and deserves to be widely ignored rather than celebrated for their debaucheries of lawless serenades that capture just how much dissgowl it takes for a hostage media to pay the ransom of coverage that needs fuliginous fulmination of the uberufen to incite their desired poignant twinges of remorseless headway into the conquest forever of minds and hearts in that order so that the dogmatic slaves of intolerance of intolerance or just flat out racism are becoming firebrands of lunacy fuming with periblebsis rather than castigating  the righteous conduct of the ennobled gentry in their assailed vaunted capture of strongholds for odalisques that exist in yobbery to ensnare the chantage of a mindless echopraxia rather than encouraging a eutrapely of mindful meedless convivial celebration to evict the hype of brinkmanship swerving away from its own narrative to balk at draconianism while simultaneously failing to address the core prognosis of why draconianism exists in the first place of the ultrageous few that elected the conflagration many are reeling from primarily because the stage is a massive lie and the propitiation of the audience to believe the actors that represent the elite interests of our aristocracy are somehow behooved to become a new pulpit that decries religious somber authority  because it threatens the boondoggles of the future. The troudasque assault on the reified hierarchy of the taxemes of rigmarole becoming an intelligible assault on the freewheeling license of latitude to swarm into emergence and corner the arbitration of truth with an insemination of integrity is ignored because the yumdimbers of our visagist times are too much invested in autodimplage because they have been conditioned from birth to be ludic feral animals of predatory instinct that reviles any authority other than a solidarity with the flirtatious wave of kenodoxy that becomes from the pleonexia of those seeking the cordial wrinkles of a corrugated happenstance exasperated into strangulation of rights and overhyped fears that remonstrate against the freedom of license to outwit the barbarity of plagues of casuistry that enlist many duped volunteerism charades to gradgrind us into a position where the insuperable leviathan of the wragatek is a fortress which cannot be captured because its vetuda and panopticon is too visibly entrenched in extortion is a humdinger of warning and admonishment that the adumbrations of lawlessness are a further declension of the clawed mendacity of a crawling liturgy of the secular pulpit intrusive upon all vehicles of despair or accidia and promotes a culture predicated only on the reversal of privilege that disadvantages the Hispanic community without remorse because of the artwrench of the extramundane fascination is the sveldtang of relevance that is always germane despite the flickerstorm of the flamestun audience reeling from a perfidy against the people that swiftly and brusquely abandoned me in the frenetic poise of my rejuvenation to whittle down my sapience and carve the spelunkers into bolides of oblivion that crash with geotaxis which exceeds the credibility of the credulous dupes that swim in reiterative propaganda that shelters hidebound prejudice within the subtext of the antinomian waves of overpowering overreach of autarky becoming enslaved to a lewd licentious covvenger of vengeance beneath the witticisms of God and beyond his domain because the wretched corruption of the media needs to be addressed because the media is more of a vehicle against free assembly of propriety in speech by regaled conduct than any government could ever be. I am a gyrovague bibliopolist efflamen because my yulliver sensitization to incidental rebuff is an incorrigible stain on my destiny to majestic overthrow of dogmatism because the scourge of prosodemic lies that infumate and become chalky vesicles for impropriety lollop around the nuisance of the complicity among the caste system in Congress and even up to higher rundles of legislative authority to find themselves in mutiny that is a formal calculus of an ophiuran system of fungible saboteurs working from both within and beyond the paludism fundamental to the ecosystem of telmatology that they must be a participant connivance in the supercherie of all major affairs. With nimongue witticism I can exorcise the gaffe-prone hyperbole of suggestibility by enthroning a countermeasure of mesmerism that finds predicates in the dominions of the frappern created by the missionary zeal of those agentic forces that provoke the proactive righteousness of vigor rather than the suborned glaikery of the foofaraw which once reigned indomitable because it exposed human weakness to the schadenfreude of the elitism which preyed on the weaklings that still get routinely gouged by excessive crimes of patronage that rollick in the festivity of active promulgation against sidereal proclamations of human inferiority damaged by the tentacles of the tabernacle which issues justice from above rather than swampy prerogatives from beneath to elevate society above a whimper but beneath a squandered din of inefficacy calculated to become a boyg conundrum because the metage and metagnomy of the wider world is besieging my citadel and I am armed to the teeth with wisdom. More often porlecked by the thronging insubordination of cross-examined futility I stand by the halidom that cements my prophecy on Halloween 2008 as a seminal frescade with the adventurous reclamation of an assailed essay on the fragility and frailty of a crumbling equipoise grounded on farcical precepts that are rarely challenged such as the idea that spontaneity can coexist with punditry which is an abominable lie of perverse idiocy that should rankle people that all scripted social engineering is remediable from the top down but yet rebuffed because Derek Chauvin becomes a ploy of the state rather than a curtailed actor on the stage of infamy. The checkered shambolic ruin of the collateral damage of ******* with the qwersy voice of the newfangled enlightenment with great vigor dismantling the authoritarian voice of the deskandent lunacy of estrapades convoked upon the latticework of dissolution is that when you derelict the champion of freedom expect the recoil of liberty to be a whiplash upon your extended lineaments of fascination that the flargent many will crumble in cerulean clavigerous claptrap that fulminates against few agencies but the once hostage credibility of a machination that snarls with menace and reeks of opprobrium that is rarely challenged to a duel of honesty in wit because the real debate is how do we protect the order of orthopraxy from the incursions of the dilapidated credulity of an overhang of patibulary politics in an agitprop state? Retchanvil verdicts perpend over the recensed ballicatter of the keelhauled virtuosos that are signatories to a slavery-by-design system where the sclerotic agents of the mediagenic are held culpable to enforce the coalesced agitprop of consensus by refraining from their fork-tongued vitriol against injustice lest they be stampeded by an uproar of the retchallop of exchequers deprived by the state and privileges revoked by the aristophrens that are skittish in the skirmish against the retchanvil provocateurs that estrange the vainglory of pother from the potagers of enlightened mosaics of the macadamized diversity of the freeways of interchange strangled by the scuttle of piebald skeumorphs of zoolatry that fascinate the alienavesced conscience as they view as bystanders the madcap cockamamie fixtures of a modern world overreacting with mercurial redhibition their haunted fears of the scepter of war and chaos for the forlorn but never a pittance for the privileged license of exoneration above the pitiable depths of the dearth of humane enchantments provided by the modern engines of demoralization. The wipple of puerile ontocyclic regressions is turning into a steamy backfire for the sopiters that count the gullibility of massive disenfranchisement as neither detriment nor merit to the compromised solution of the diplomatic truce between embattled enemies because the wesperm we face is against virility and for the sterilization of the flosculous and pertinacious troudasque orignality of a true belief rather than a derided legacy of lies and deranged politeness as they mock your catastrophic level of nescience and plumb the abyssopelagic for hints of the mainour of the sapwood of rampicks so disillusioned by the hype they cower in scrimshanks of duty forsifamiliated by their own tribe to commence a tirade against decency rather than upholding the zeal of the lawful demonstration rather than the conflagration of repartee to enforce a newfangled decorum that is honest enough to encounter the brusque bruption of reneged agreements rather than the salty saunter of the piggybacked immoralism that sinks beneath the artifice above. The dratenk of the foibled fables of invulnerable arbitrage by boursocrats to outfox the system greatly abetted into competent leverage by the finesse of autodidactian prestige is overlooked by many as incidental when in fact the measurable demarches for the unified front of enlightenment don’t devour their frenemies but instead resort to negotiable pinhokes of devolved clarity that wravels the system and oppugns the oppression of the listless weal of warmongerers and freebooters alike as corsairs of the same syndrome of pleonexia that is a marauding force for vehement fiction becoming engraved as cretinism and certitude in diplomatic gamesmanship that is a humdinger sockdolager for the ages that provokes us to a sophrosyne neglect of the ulterior channels of furrowed outrage in the sulcate grooves of hypocrisy twirling with gawsy chocolate-box surfeit to try an install a puppet rule and a gentreng honesty that makes no concessions to a systematized persecution of the ribald witwanton effrontery against the profligate syndicate that syndicates a warbled wipple as the justified end and entombment of a prominent leader as self-sabotage is never convenient but their overstated neglect is their own pitfall rather than their collaboration in triumphant rhetoric to quizzically spurn the contumely of unstated harangues of charlatans who invoke beadledom to impose the corrosive corruption of optative choices to silence opinionated voices out of pragmatic necessity rather than cordial disagreement. The ammenque loitering against the trillops that guard the treasuries of flakmention and flarmey is an implucture of all talent corroborating a false narrative so that it is plucky enough to withstand the rooster assault on primposition of redstrall bluepomp that is the rapknock against the efflamen to endanger their safety and besiege their glamours and scintillating glints of appeal because appellate courts justify the dratenks of flombricks of wiseacres of benumbed clarity to invoke a martial order rather than an irenic francketor metanoia towards God rather than against his frenetic barnstorm for clarity and clairvoyance withheld to the ******* of redominage in the hyjamb of repcrevel.
The symbolic resistance to galvanized divestiture makes me a homeless king domineering over entire regions despite the nosocomial welcome of the evil poltroons and scullions that withhold justice from my presence because they taunt me with insubordinate factions of facture rather than the foofaraw of faffle in useless deskandent poverty because my otiose wealth swells into a dormitory of dormant passions simpering with the luxuries of time to engorge coffers rather than create coffins. I am drastically tired and wilting from the pangs of contrition that I seek the appellation of the Lord but my appendages are conflated because I sought my own outrecuidance rather than a redivivus of reclamation because I stand stranded from my own euphoria as a punitive measure because I trusted too much in quacksalver remedies of parched apothecary wisdom that now enliven barely any part of me as I have cleansed the remnants of my advantage to squander.
I am equipped for long-haul visionary prowess but I am paraded around as a nuisance for noisome vapid conglomeration to supersede my valor of purpose. Hebrews  13:1-3 NIV 13 Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. 2 Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. 3 Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

The guild and build of compunction is predicated on the ethos that an eternal generosity not flickering in a disdain for discipline avoids dippoldism but chastises the wicker of the wicked so that the snuffed ambeer of rijuice becomes a permanent abode of those that aim for righteous conduct and a pivoted course above the travail of useful operose laborious krifts but also against the principalities of darkness that overcome the world with maleficence even in times tithed to eternal remembrance that they might be integral to the sejungible fractures of history that don’t bluster with importune crestfallen dirges but siphon through lavaderos the rectified remembrance of all virtuous deeds consummated through the renewal of covenants too herculean to master by any one apostolic visionary because I apply my wisdom to the nature of a servant dutiful in my fiduciary duty to the covenants that are foiled or proven but simultagnosia overcomes neither  the dissident nor the zealot because it is squelched by the coming of the light of aborning tides of day bequeathed from the night of lucubration that is the pedotropy of a new century rather than a rigid certainty of the last century that lapsed with grievous war and forlorn strife that the trumpery of evasive rookery doesn’t roodge people from their tranquility but instills a surpassed peace that placates the understanding of the placid miracle in the turgid ponds of absolution given as gratuity to the marvels of those without blemish or defect yet many fall short of the grace of God but are we all indeed sinners or is there a rare batch among us who is so blameless that he becomes blameworthy in the eyes of a glowering sentiment of perfection being impossible. I offer the exemplary wisdom of this age to renew that which is only impossible without the counsel of the aggrieved generation eager to novantique but disregarding the sentinels that seek the destruction of the womb and the matrix which harbors all life and neuters through death the covenants of old that a wizened corrugation of reclaimed prophecy might have enough mettle to fulfill the law of the Lord. Let the blameless procession of ceremony anoint newfangled rulers in the interregnum between lapses predevoted by the diablerists of contamination of the purified license of a ragged continence becoming the bewrayed secrecy of a furtive cloak of deliverance that professes no partisan allegiance and defies no creed but the ultimate salvation of as many of the members that constitute the living God of composite symmetry with enlightened and awakened wisdom rather than the slumber and the slummock of the radical princely rebuke and rebuff of the polished sentries of terriers too loyal to the fewterers that gave them life and not curved enough towards the beneficence of compunction actionable for levity against the gravitas of levitation afforded to the few if rarely by seldom simpers that the luxuriance of man be cloaked in the majesty of the throne rather than the ensnared tomb of sandapiles of petty eternity Matthew 5:17-19 NIV 17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. 19 Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.

To heed the call of discipleship invoked by the peremptory sophrosyne commandments of my prophetic tentacles that for momentary transcendence evolved beyond  the lapse of a cursory glint of sheens of iridescent squalor lost to the futility of a timeworn design  that I might measure up as worthy in the kingdom of Heaven to issue decrees and anoint the latria with newfound growth without decimating the spirit of the Law nor the words that constitute it despite minor grievances with the subordination of women and the slavery of men that have been remanded by ecumenical benevolence because of secular paragons celebrated widely for enlarging the sphere of humane compunction so that zoolatry and idolatry do not consume the  comestion of the Earth before the outrage of the contrition of those that knock and seek and find ajar the doors to the lychgate that leads to paradise beyond rather than turpitude beneath. As found percurrent through the human facetiousness about stricture caving into witwanton pressures to rectify a modern law to supersede a valorous insurrection of petty cordslaves mentoring themselves into indigence rather than cloaked with resplendent jovial grace we must find ourselves vindicated by magnanimity and renewed by the agony of calvary before we can call ourselves disciples rather than loutish repugnance that glowers at the dimples of time rather than pounces on the eager testy reaches of limitrophe and charter to centuries beyond our own which will either heed my wisdom or disregard it as less than sagacity embodied and more of an individualist bent but carved throughout the Bible was the insemination of the redaction of pure sentiment into cobbled perfection and yet lacking the insight to discern the future yet elapsed I contain within me a joyous discernment that the torpindages wagered through time traindeque the integrity of the trykle of inconvenient bristles that apportion the loaves and the fish evenly among those seeking food that abundance derived from dearth enriches all for in my petty  insights humbled by the porches and porticos of my assembly and ascension into a more sanctified practice I might become licentiate rather than licentious because the key difference between the disciple and the master is that the master has grasped within his truth the full measure of the scales of tip-toed justice and judicious foresight never overlooking the niceties that glamorize the vogue that contains the ebullience of artistry to entertain the flocks of Heaven and Earth and among the celestial realms earn a reputable stature as canonical enrichment rather than belittled provincialism. Gardens of the propriety of genteel regaled zalkengur will shimmer beyond resplendent imaginations never splenetic or phlegmatic in rejection of the covenant which binds us to the promise of Isaac both with the deeds of Moses succeeding him to bequeath the riches of tattered lands favored by the timeworn compunction of design to end the apartheid that rules a war-torn patchwork desolation that reigns in destitution weary of its own shadows that umbrage offends both God and Man and thereby is revoked with the privilege of the few capable of vulcanizing the totemic prerogative into a democratized  bailiwick that seeks the rijuice of remanded custody of the future to the diligence of the hands of crafty craftsman rather than other disparate clenches of the tenacious idolatry of the purebred past fed the ligony of reputable deeds or worse knaveries that are obliviated from the highlight reels that accept correction and lead prolonged lives of gallivanting gallops towards the pastures of prosperity gleaming with the boodle of the well-earned realty of labor rather than just the pretense of levied taxation upon the unfair distribution of things beyond man’s petty grasp of the junctingent reality that seeks its own heyday beyond the stegmonths that broaden the pains of parturition given as punishment to seek the reward of oikonisus rather than the dissolution of accusative whispers retreating into embanked subterfuge rather than swiveling among the creatures of light so that all might have the courage to approach the lambent presence of wisdom despite the fettle of doubt and the hamstrings of desperation that curb our mettle and cast aside our reigns to tatters rather than scullions who devour all with their charnels of brutish injustice.  The enigmatic linchpin of guarded furtive secrecy is that the lambent light shimmers with sheen but only by propinquity and proximity can it be fully fathomed so thus we must shepherd the courage and audacious resolve of the many to surmount the challenge of conation beyond the despair of failure so that the marginalized fruition of the devolved prosperity of contempered metaphor leads to the regaled histrinkage of phylogeny beyond racial divides and for the profiteers of a new century gilded in light rather than regressing into the darkness of chambers that sulk because they are seedy rather than impregnated with the fruit that distinguish the bowery from the metropolitan urbanity of clairvoyance.
The dissipated pogonip of punitive dippoldism is antithetical to the relache of paradoxical inoculations cadging dissolved juxtaposition to internecine tangential respites in the clamor of time to speak on its own behest to the calamities offset from the friction of a world slick in furtive details but evasive with dodgy harangues about the radical imposture of jingoism above the right of the voiceless to amplify the stern ripostes against warped dementia and fortify the strongholds of a guaranteed compunction contingent upon the tincture of attrition yielding a cloveryield for ambassadors to the true living wisdom of the Almighty presence of supreme authority rarely invoked but established by careful entreaty to evacuate the endangered sultry lickerish malapert licentious broods of those taxidermies that squelch the feral gregarious spirit of the untamed limits of imagination that spawn new worlds and better deeds from the spools of the woolen greenhorns that mete out our deeds for feted reclamations of the novantique. The stipulation of providence leans on the weal of turnverein abiding by amaranthine dictates that are supervenient with a beneficent attempt at recoiled surrender to divine will but met with a firm individualism that seeks to picaresque rejoinder the ultimatum of time itself to seek and find or to be stranded and evoke. The poignant twinge of individualism is a harrowing force of idiosyncrasy to triumph by hortoriginality rather than leak like a rusty faucet by the whimsy of formula and calculus both arrayed in constellation to abide by the cretaceous dictates of lifeless discipline bent by the ferules of improbability and the acatalepsy that precludes any judgment of the impossible because  the vanquished sandapile of the aggrieved coffins of former titans breathes less under the scrutiny of silk than it does when the emigration of souls in tenure and tutelage of others depend on the living sustenance of the active word Heb 4:12. We exact a precision of balance against the stultified weather of a grievance of sorrow and somber semaphores that portend gloom rather than shimmer with optimism in light but a benighted day is but a prelude to the sunblind coronation of the rigors of  mettle becoming the refracturism of a conclave that divides time in half to recursively reiterate itself in reversal and then become sejungible from holistic parcels itself to rejoin into one solid entity even when the indivisible becomes soluble in the mysteries of the ultimate querulous enigmas foreign to many minds prepossessed by anteric spite or the spate of dissuasion rather than goaded adventure that spars against the spartanism of rigged gladiatorial spectacles that appease the aceldama much to the agony of the participants who issue not even a whimper of resignation in their trumpery over courage because they foist their momentary battle as an exaggeration of the prowess of invented celebrity that is much belittled in the artifice of war that is checkered against the hubris of outrecuidance that gloats over the dumose duress of shattered paradigms while regnant upon the face of the dormant courtesy of designation rather than design for the supercherie of evocative throngs of rumpus and cacophony to settle into the sedimentary victories of tallespin rather than internecine gambits of glaikery lost in the ****** creeping galvanization of artistry met with inclemency. The sophrosyne proclivity pivots on a propinquity of asseveration of sacerdotal mandates and individualism untethered by the boundaries of the purely lucid and pellucid thoughts known to the conversant tongue because to regiment the historical lineage of a crafty kisswonk that avoids the pitfalls of egestuous penury of conservatory conservatism and neglect the thorny imbroglios posed by the ragtaggers of freebooted hornbooks sold by the colporteurs of the aboriginal swindle of defalcation from public treasury we must find treasure in all composite works as mosaic artistry becomes the granular comportment of majesty unfurled by emblazoned ascertained certainties without being flummoxed by the crestfallen pause of the waterdrips that stand nesiotes in silentium insular in design only to be found among the troves of the value that designates the valuable from the worthless and we must determine the integrity of deeds supernal and faith provisional the restive pause of soteriology that all matter is better than all sense only because without matter sensation would lack its testy limits to the mathematical postulate that carving sapwood is easier than the whipsaw of the contrition of centuries grieving over  their compounded losses rather than prizing their compounded interests of atocia and wesperm of neutered virility swamping the industrial sentiments with clockwork vanities rather than humbled or even humiliated revenants of carnation believing never the credulity of partial lies but swerving away from temptation even upon faulted pages that superstition will evict. The boiled subsistence of many odd epistolary requiems are omitted from memory because the reverse evasion of an unmerited life earning  few keepsakes worthy of a tithe to a modesty of reprisal rather than a ruckus of betrayal that casts asunder the former ******* for the emergence of the stegmonth and the barleychildren of emigration to newly crowned visages storming the frontier of not headlong abandon but the sad recadency of vitriol upon sentiment divided against itself like a creaky vestige of a craggy hill surmounted by an edifice of sterilization rather than perdurable anointment. We whimper with resignation that this overlooked passage through the turmoil of the yearned heyday upon the grunts of labor will forever be stained by the petty numbers that emblazon the recumbent posture of inconvenience riddled with foraminated despised countenance belied of its own true nature to wither into the crumples of ashen dust memorialized by fewer than the momentum of catalysts demands. Proverbs 8:22-35 NIV
“The Lord brought me forth as the first of his works,[c][d]
    before his deeds of old;
23 I was formed long ages ago,
    at the very beginning, when the world came to be.
24 When there were no watery depths, I was given birth,
    when there were no springs overflowing with water;
25 before the mountains were settled in place,
    before the hills, I was given birth,
26 before he made the world or its fields
    or any of the dust of the earth.
27 I was there when he set the heavens in place,
    when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep,
28 when he established the clouds above
    and fixed securely the fountains of the deep,
29 when he gave the sea its boundary
    so the waters would not overstep his command,
and when he marked out the foundations of the earth.
30     Then I was constantly[e] at his side.
I was filled with delight day after day,
    rejoicing always in his presence,
31 rejoicing in his whole world
    and delighting in mankind.
32 “Now then, my children, listen to me;
    blessed are those who keep my ways.
33 Listen to my instruction and be wise;
    do not disregard it.
34 Blessed are those who listen to me,
    watching daily at my doors,
    waiting at my doorway.
35 For those who find me find life
    and receive favor from the Lord.

We were all borne of the smithy of the furnace of the aboriginal yet it is lapsed in our memory as the stardust of a time beyond volition and therefore repentant not because contrition for secondhand deeds without moral pedigree tethered to altruism requires few hymns of atonement that we were there when the protoplasm engulfed the Earth and rattled the cages of the celestial realm so that the emigrants from the future and the distant sidereal neighbors we barely know with intimacy saw us in a decarnate form crass to perception but not immune from the pregnancy of rebirth that is the incarnation of all flesh and blood lived in the loitered remembrance of eons that flashed by in seconds rather than draped over countless millennium with a poise and a pause. There is a tenure of conviction which abides by a deputized authority that fossicks every creaky hinge of absolution to demarcate the boundaries of stardust that impregnated the world with life in variegated diversity not for a haughty zoology of the sneer of outrecuidance or merely the capitalization of the syndicated gains of collectivized enlightenment but the higher realm of betrothed fidelity to the tutelary plenilune dictates that are in sultry sullen broods of oligochrome to the tentative ear but swivel silently to the journeys ineffable that make life memorable and peaceable with armistice rather than desperate recoils of militarization against domesticated furor rather than foreign malevolence that depreciates the tegular carapace of conversion to summit the tropes of tramontane fables archaic in literacy but bundled in the comestion of design that are formant proprieties of spates of flamestun twinges that spurn the ferule and bound the jackals leapfrog above the bushy secrecy of a pointed swarm rather than a pointless scorn that disavows its prejudice for pride but becomes an empty vehicle of subversion rather than empowerment when the people abounding in its glorified presence  become captivated by transfixed valuable temporal achievements rather than the core of mettle itself to divide the plunder on even ground.  The fickle atoms that when divided provide the ulterior gainsay of destruction are the same unitary properties that should stand forever indivisible in the resemblance of an effigy never berated because of insensate brevity in sensible sensation but always applauded because the constitution of all matter belongs to the ephemeral spars among stars and the violence of bolides of collision rather than ramparts of desecration. The offspring of this shambolic awakening is the seminal procedure beyond the reiterative quips of awakening that seems to make few demands that are heard beyond hearsay and a great deal of ordeal ruckus and character building at the centerpiece of a mosaic permutation of fundamental perpended democracy that shelves its prerogatives to obganiate the tired point of the tiresome hackneyed narrative that seems steamy and running out of gas and thereby stranded in insular vagary. This gay-baiting ******* deserves to belong to perdition in the deepest barathrum of hell because schadenfreude should not overpower moral logic because of corrupt evil henchmen that won’t surrender a petty point in a war they will lose completely by my vindicated triumph over the ugly tittups of desiccated vigor intermediary to triumph that regales only the worst of society to curbstomp me because of ridiculous lies that deserve the strongest excoriation demanded by the exigency of this scenario because you can’t justify slavery to prove GLAFD vindicated.
I stand in solemn triumph that this psychological debauchery cannot reduce the agency of God into some petty psychological experimentation with human virtuosos to make them grand empirical diatribes of the suborned fagins of robbery and thievery that sneaks around the thickets to reprove the vindictive ****** of God against his many coagulated enemies. I am here to declare the Black Lives Matter slogan a fraud to enslave dumb people that aren’t awakened to the true trumpery of supercherie that governs our country negligently while many itch for the grievances of legal recourse but feel intimidated by the strangulation of the armies of evil promoting consternation to demerits rather than plaudits. I am a righteous agent of valor rather than a deposed reiterative squalor that vanquishes the enemy despite their background because I don’t shrink from a fight even when embattled by the shepherds of evil maleficence that simpers with disdain at my heroic attempts to beat Truman Show politics that shelve moral fiduciary duty to subsidiary status while I campaign for the valorous enrichment of God’s bounty beyond limits of the petty  finicky resolve of the enemies that surround me with finicky subversion. The inexcusable crime here is that the majority of malcontent deals with slavery rather than George Floyd whose memory is memorialized as a sopiter to the dumb people watching TV dying of senectitude that don’t research the  internet when the truth is far more glaring Facebook mafia and Silicon Valley are holding me hostage to prove a petty point about the schadenfreude of a never ending torrent of bashing Beto’ O’Rourke style that would end in a terminus of despair to promote a radical agenda that is now being hijacked by BLM despite the fact most of the momentum is being catalyzed by my injustice and the grappling moments with the demons that estrange me and suffocate my movement to squalor and entrenchment. Wake up! This is not BLM anymore it is a hijacked excuse for the slumberous old people who only watch TV and don’t do research and there is a concerted effort to limit free speech even when I have license and latitude to exercise my authority to exorcise demons that haunt this skrimch that resides in eternal evil for petty political ploys deranged in lunacy rather than ennobled by God’s justice and this maleficence will never end until my dying day because I will not resign to the pressures of divestiture to lead a prosperous life only to find perdition at the end of my path because I abide by God’s covenant without flinching and I will march on for the solidarity of liberation rather than the squalor of demerited apartheid.
White prejudice tried to systematically erase me from the records despite my continual truth in interrogation that subverted me in the most minatory way imaginable. I stand reformed by my character in the face of depredation because their faultered attempts failed. They should be degraced from their positions of primposition of the police state that avenges all petty losses in the SB era at a time when I was prone to querulousnesss. Benumbed by crisis the world will be inoculated from truth to subversive values that inculcate the vulnerable rather than exonerate the bridewells of encomium. I justify my works by God’s compassion to bless me with such encomium even in these balkanizing circumstances that we all might be remediated by the grace of the one who sent us to the missionary zeal to compunction that delivers the sentinel vision of terriers of goodwill and justice!

It is rare that, outside Japan, you hear anything positive about the lot of women in the Japanese workplace. Well-meaning rankings and anecdotal articles frequently do little more than reinforce tired stereotypes. Still, change is afoot and there are many voices in the Japanese corporate world that have a nuanced story to tell—even some who dare to assert that there might be something that Japanese working women have to teach the world.

One important factor preventing progress in how women are viewed in the Japanese workplace is the ongoing prevalence of highly gendered uniforms. This is true both in the literal sense and in what is implied—from strictly structured dress codes that govern post-graduation job hunts right through to the president’s chair. These remain highly gendered for both men and women, a visual reminder of the very different roles played by the “salarymen” and “office ladies” of years gone by, but a stumbling block now, considering how much has changed.

Representative of this change is fashion brand Kay Me, from entrepreneur Junko Kemi. Not just an oddity in the Japanese fashion world, Kemi is an unassuming revolutionary who has dispensed with the establishment path to the racks by forgoing trade shows and industry-only runways. Instead, she builds on her own experience in the Japanese corporate world to fashion the clothes she would wear to the office. In the process, she has managed to chalk up a Ginza flagship store, key retail positions at Japan’s top department stores—including Odakyu in Shinjuku, Mitsukoshi in Nihombashi, Breeze Breeze Umeda in Osaka, and Isetan at Haneda International Airport — and even a presence in London. She’s accomplished this in just over five years — less time than it takes the average brand that plays by the fashion industry’s rules to get their first round of scattered stockists.

Kemi sat down with The Journal to talk about why she moved from marketing to fashion, how she sees women in the workplace, and what she aims to achieve with her designs.

Japanese fashion is a notoriously saturated field. With no background in fashion, why did you choose to enter it?

My background is in marketing and consulting, but I was always aware that, at the root of all market analysis, is the Japanese phrase ishokuju, meaning the necessities of life: food, clothing, and shelter. When you look at Tokyo, there may be a lot of fashion, but that is the way it should be. It is as important and necessary as food and shelter. After the Lehman shock and the March 11 earthquake, this idea of necessity came to have greater meaning for me. I wanted to make something that was really required by people in their lives.

Of course, my background in marketing helped, and I knew that the bigger companies would be scared to compete with me if I chose a niche that wasn’t a proven quantity yet. That niche was professional women; women with the drive to go beyond what society expects of them and who want to express themselves on their own terms in the workplace. There is also part of me that likes to be the rebel, and to a certain extent I just wanted to prove people wrong when they said the market was oversaturated.

One of the most important Japanese fashion designers of our time, Yohji Yamamoto, famously started his eponymous brand in rejection of Japanese “office lady” attire and how working women, as a whole, dressed. Is this a shared source of inspiration?

Perhaps. Although, ironically, given that Yohji Yamamoto mainly uses black, I feel that women’s clothes are too dark! Fundamentally, I feel that historically it made sense that for women to enter the male-dominated workplace they first started dressing like men; but that can’t be where it ends. Far more interesting is for women to be unapologetically feminine and be accepted for it. Women should not have to cast off their own culture to enter the workplace, nor deny their own nature between 9:00 and 5:00. Why shouldn’t there be flowers in an office? In that sense, I am the opposite of Yohji Yamamoto — he wanted his clothes to protect women from men, but I don’t think women need protecting.

My real inspiration is surprisingly conventional. My grandmother ran a kimono shop, so I am always attracted to traditional themes in my work. The Japanese motifs I use, in particular, have been key to reaching people abroad. It is not necessarily targeted like “Cool Japan,” just a lucky coincidence. For Japanese customers, they are a way of building elements of kimono into their working wardrobe instead of wearing full kimono, which is hard in daily life—never mind the workplace.

As an entrepreneur, what do you look for in your employees? Do you actively create a female-friendly work environment?

I have been all around the world meeting entrepreneurs — especially in the UK and East Asian countries — and I am frequently the only Japanese person, and nearly always the only Japanese female entrepreneur. Therefore, similarly minded people with an international mindset are my key assets. With that comes an ability to communicate in English, and the confidence that your ideas will resonate not only in your own country but globally. That is rarer than you think, and a big issue over the course of a career is that only high-ranking members of Japanese companies ever go abroad on business. That locks women out of having experience abroad and stops them thinking more globally.

In terms of workplace, I would like a 50-50 split in my workforce; but right now we are still at the early stage of growing, so it has been vital that everyone understands the shared goal. As I am dressing working women, I have far more women than men working for me for now; unfortunate, but it will change. Also, I insist on flexible working hours for my staff with children. It creates some small issues with timing group meetings, but it is easy to work through and worth it for the talent they bring.

What could institutions like the Japanese government and universities do to change the status quo?

Universities are taking the lead in thinking globally, but that is only half the battle — they need to create more competition among students — female in particular — so they have confidence to go abroad. That needs to be the spark that starts a movement.

As for the government, there are lots of programs out there to support companies like mine, but to be honest we just don’t have the time to apply for them — they require so much documentation. So far, the programs feel like lip service from an older generation who doesn’t understand mine; time will change that.

In the meantime, I am focused on thinking globally. We haven’t targeted the inbound phenomenon as such because they are not necessarily our customers. Instead, I am focused on online expansion and taking my brand to Europe, and hopefully to America via New York in the near future. Of course, I want quick expansion; but ultimately we have been quality- and service-driven in Japan, so we can’t forget that as we look abroad.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

ANOTHER LETTER TO YOU AMERICANS: WHY DO YOU BLINDLY SUPPORT THE CANCEROUS, RACIST REGIME OF ISRAEL? AND DO YOU SIMPLY NOT SEE THE CONSEQUENCES?


Ayad Gharbawi

February 4, 2010 – Damascus, Syria


I am writing you from a Third World country. I am trying through my letters to connect with you Americans. I am trying to communicate with you so an understanding can arise between us.
I do not feel in any way optimistic. Why? Because you Americans live in plastic, fake, unreal ‘reality’ that your mass media feeds you that is fundamentally pro-Zionist and pro-Israel. It is precisely this blindness of your slavish poodle behaviour towards this Apartheid state that renders you so much hated by every nation and by every religion and by every race on earth.
It is no secret that US foreign policy in the Middle East is heavily influenced by Zionist lobbies. This is a fact that has acres of literature written upon it. What do the Zionists do whenever any human ‘dares’ to critique Israel? Well, of course, you declare him to be a ****, or a Self-Hating Jew or an Anti-Semite.
In other words: no human can ever critique Israel, and should he critique Israel, in any way, then that means he is a genocidal, mass murdering ****.
Did you see that typical Zionist, Dr. Dershowitz, who has recently labelled the author of the indictment of Israel’s atrocities in the Gaza War as an ‘anti-Semite? Well, Mr. Goldstone is, of course, a Jew himself.
That should point out to you all, the basic law: anyone who even thinks of daring to criticize Israel is a **** or an Anti-Semite.
Therefore, no respectable human can ever critique Israel.
And that means that: Anyone in the civilized, respectable West, who ‘dares’ to critique Israel in any way, shall be expelled from his/her job and shall be an outcast.
That is the Zionism in action in the West.
Fine. So, if no respectable, sane human can critique Israel, does that mean that Israel is the only nation on this planet that must be beyond any critique?
And if so, why are you, the people of the State of Israel, supposed to be beyond any critique?
Obviously, this Zionist twaddle is *******. The Zionists greatest fear is being compared to the Apartheid South African regime.
Why?
Precisely because Israel is an Apartheid state, where any non-Jew is an inferior-class.
Look at Israel.
Look at that cancer, all of you who love Israel. Look at all those American politicians who are paid by Israel to go and visit that land. Do they see the shanty towns where non-Jews live? Do they see the ghettoes where non-Jews live? No, of course not. This ‘tours’ show American tourists and politicians what a great land Israel is for the Jews, while they simply, forget to show these ‘visitors’ how the other half lives.
So what Israel look like?
Israel is a great land for the Jews. No one is going to deny that.
But what is Israel like for non-Jews?
Israel is a land where, because, you are not Jewish, the government, has the right to demolish your home and your land if they so wish and you can do nothing about that.
Israel is a land where they can expel and deport any non-Jew from your home at any time they like.
Israel is a land which has the right to expel any non-Jew from its soil.
Israel is a land that does not allow a non-Jew to marry a Jew.
So what kind of country do you Americans call that?
And then you Americans wonder why do these non-Jewish inhabitants hate poor, democratic Israel so much?
We, the non-Jewish inhabitants of Israel – we the Moslems, the Chaldeans, the Druze, the Armenians, the Russian Orthodox – hate Israel precisely because Israel, under its Zionist ideology, is simply determined to create a Goyim-free land that is only for the Jews. (‘Goyim’ = non Jew). So, we are all to be expelled or murdered in order to make the land of Israel only for the Jews?
Do you Americans think that the entire Goyim (non-Jewish people) are going to accept that?
Did the blacks accept the White Man rule in South Africa?
Did the Albanians accept Milosevic’s Serb-only Yugoslavia?
Israel is one of the few remaining countries where the Racist Supremacist ideology functions fully and is alive.
And yet, the West, cannot even dare, to speak the Truth that everyone knows about.
Israel is a state that was created by:
1. Ethnically cleansing as many Goyim as they can during 1947-48.
2. Israel is a nation that has a Constitution that is based on the sick fact that the land of Israel ‘must only be for the Jews’. Any non-Jews (or Goyims) must be removed.
Now everybody knows these facts, Jews, Zionists, Goyims and everyone else.
But what is so sickening, is why is Israel allowed to practice these Racist rules, whereby other leaders, and other nations were; punished for being racist – such as Milosevic’s drive to expel Albanians and Saddam Hussein’s efforts to expel Kurds?
Why are Zionists immune to any criticism?
Why is it that the Goyim world cannot critique Israel?
What are you Americans unable to realize what a cancer Israel really is?

If there was an award for the oddest pairing in fashion, it would go to Jonathan Anderson and Spanish house Loewe. More than a few eyebrows were raised when the designer, who is better known for his conceptual unisex collections and dressing men in cropped tops, was handed the reins to the heritage brand that is all about "luxe" (in other words: conservative) leather goods.

In person, Anderson looks more like an extra from a Saint Laurent runway show than creative director of one of Spain's most treasured possessions. He's dressed in a typical model uniform of white tee and jeans, complete with dark sunglasses and a cigarette dangling from his fingers. A mop of tousled, highlighted blond hair adds to his boyish charm, although he is quick to assert that looks can be deceiving.

"Fashion ultimately imitates life and in life things don't always look good together from the outset," he says. "I know a certain style is good when I feel uncomfortable with it - those looks turn out to be the best. You have to challenge yourself with things you don't like or don't know."

Taking on a brand reinvention is probably one of the biggest challenges the 30-year-old Irish designer has faced in his short but successful career. A former Prada window dresser, he studied menswear at London College of Fashion and launched his eponymous line in 2008 to critical acclaim. He's been nominated for many awards and even collaborated with the likes of Versus.

In 2013 everything changed when LVMH took a minority stake in his label and offered him the role of creative director at Loewe in the hope that he could transform the dormant house into a modern success story along the lines of Givenchy and Céline. The Loewe gig wasn't originally part of the deal but that changed quickly following a covert visit to the Loewe factory.

"Truth is I just fell in love with the people," he says. "I met the master modeller and leather developer, and I thought this brand can be huge. Loewe was never on my radar, but when I went there I could not understand why it had never been articulated in a way that it wasn't global. I questioned if I wanted to do this, but once I started creating a book of ideas, I couldn't stop."

Although Loewe has a network of stores around the world, it was not a brand that many people took notice of (a fact not helped by its unpronounceable name, which for the record is pronounced Lo-Wev-Eh).

So Anderson decided to adopt a more controversial approach to the rebranding. Much like Hedi Slimane at Saint Laurent, he unveiled a fresh new identity, including a sleek new logo designed by graphic duo M/M (Paris) and an eye-catching campaign featuring a selection of vintage Steven Meisel images.

"I did a year of research before I started and realised we had to remove the date and city location from the logo. One of my skills is that I am very marketing directed," he says.

While many creative directors use runway shows as a platform to showcase their vision, Anderson focused first on the fundamentals of the brand and what it does best: leather goods. Soon Loewe's iconic buttery soft leather was transformed into covetable designs such as the best-selling Puzzle Bag, the Colourblock Flamenco Crossbody and a range of minimalist clutches and totes embossed with the discreet new logo.

"There are not many brands in the world that are built up in that way. We have such incredible leather knowledge in hand at Loewe and I had to use that," he says.

Next on his list was adding a more personal element to the brand in the form of culture. Along came various projects, including working with renowned Japanese ceramicist Tomoo Hamada on two exclusive pieces for the Tokyo store, inspired by the brand's DNA. His most recent project, which was unveiled in Hong Kong last week, features prints by British textile artist John Allen, which have appeared on a range of summer essentials, from bags to towels.

"When I was looking at what other brands were offering, none of them really dealt with this culture idea," Anderson says.

That's not to say that ready-to-wear takes a back seat at Loewe. This is an area where Anderson has been most prolific, producing both ready-to-wear and pre-collections for men and women which are shown in Paris.

"Marc Jacobs fundamentally opened up the idea that clothing was needed to articulate leather goods. It came from a moment in the 1990s where he changed our thinking on old houses. I've learned through my lifetime that you need a character to tell a story - a bag cannot be isolated. People need something tangible to hold onto and ready-to-wear creates newness," he says.

There's no doubt that his clothing brings a fresh perspective to the brand. His menswear collections feature everything from slouchy raw-silk tunic and turned-up jeans to knitted palazzo pants, each imbued with his signature androgynous touches. His woman is powerful and dressed boldly in blouson blouses made from patchwork leather and wide-legged trousers.

While many critics have embraced the new Loewe look wholeheartedly, others have not been complimentary, saying that Anderson's work is derivative. Not that Anderson is letting it get to him.

"I had to stop reading what people write. I have to be me. I want the brand to be big, and will do everything to make it happen, but I don't want to change who I fundamentally am. You either like what I say or don't," he says.

"I am bored of the days where we are obsessed with the idea that certain designers owned things. You own nothing. Fashion is not about that. It's about reappropriating things, it's how you edit it."

Like most 21st century designers, Anderson is obsessed with the future and creating a brand that is truly of the moment: he has lofty goals to bring Loewe to the next generation of consumers.

"The idea of relevance is the idea that you can be rejected tomorrow. We live in a culture that moves very fast, so that relevance is short-lived. My biggest goal in the next five years is to get to the point where we will do a show and, the day after, the collection is in store. It means we are designing for the moment that it is going out. That's my dream."Read more here:marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses

Up very early on this particular morning
couldn't sleep not unusual.
Trillions of thoughts racing in his brain
leaving his lovely wife in bed!
knowing to well the problems he'd created
met another himself he hated.

Nine months Jamie had been having an affair
his wife asking why he was late.
On numerous days his mistress wanting him
easy to say it just happened!
How could he let his fling get out of hand
he knew it was underhand.

Couldn't rest his conscience nagged him
no children with his spouse.
Practically one less worry for him to resolve
now his mistress was pregnant!
The usual cliche he still loved his wife
aware this situation was rife!

This didn't help sort out the mess he was in
what was the solution?
None of the answers were fundamentally good
but could not escape the truth.
It would break her heart to if he were to leave
who he never wanted to deceive!

With a deep breath he prepared for honesty
it had been a long time coming.
Prided himself in being an upstanding man
not noticing how low he'd sunk.
Seven thirty approached he heard Emma stir
he had to go and tell her!

With a burning guilt consuming his whole being
he made his way for judgement day!

The Foureyed Poet.

You asked me how I am doing
and I said “Good”
You asked me to be honest
and I said “I’m fine”
You told me to expand.
I replied,
"I'm not good at all.
And I want that to be simple enough.
I'm not being exaggerative
or selfish
or birthing drama for drama's sake.
It's just that I am here.
Here on silly earth,
And I feel alone at crossroads in my life.
I am under no illusion
of my incredibly blessed
or undeserving existence.
But that's just the problem.
LIFE is starting now.
And for the first time,
I have had to make choices
choices on my own
choices
that
(according to mother)
will shape who I fundamentally
become as a human.
So that's a bit distracting.
‘You need to remember not to let people down.’
‘You should consider how you love someone, not just when to.’
‘You ought to be more assertive or it'll all come crashing down.’
She reminds me of my
uncontrollable imperfection
on a daily basis
Not necessarily through her words
I doubt she wants to inflict this on me.
But the way way she stares at me sometimes
from across the room.
Silently.
Like she’s trying to admire a painting
that secretly
no one quite appreciates
or understands
but everyone seems to find profound meaning in it
so you go along
with the show.
Which I wouldn't have a problem with
if I could wake up refreshed in the
morning.
And not tired
like I am.
All the time.
I’m tired of being fifteen.
Because inside,
I don’t feel fifteen.
My mind turns on fifty year old gears
churning up one hundred year old
philosophies.
But
The age in which I currently must suffer through
is misunderstood
and incorrectly represented.
Teenager is a word parents
shudder to hear.
A word elders instantly accuse.
A word authorities doubt without reasonable basis.
The drum pumping my soul
is in fact a solo ensemble.
But
I am naturally clumped in with the lot
of marching bands
that clash and crash,
stomp and slam their drums
as they parade the flag
of fickle rebellion
into the air they barely know.
Don’t get me wrong,
the stereotypes of my age and time
are drawn up
from some truth,
but one truth shouldn’t result
in one outlook.
You don’t roll dice with
only threes on the faces
or only ones.
So it is hard to watch as
everywhere I go,
titles and labels
are being stuck into me
like toothpicks in a fruit salad.
And first of all,
just because society cuts me up
and breaks me down like a pineapple
you can buy with leftover quarters
doesn’t mean that I’m up for grabs.
And secondly,
No one should be branded
simply because
it is easier to ignore them
than to know them.
Don’t hear this as a “oh she’s a teenage girl” moment
hear this as a “she’s a human and wants to be heard without your filter over her words” moment
So, I’m having a hard time with that.
Not to mention the rest.”

“The rest?” You asked.

“You know,”
I said,
“How I have to decide what school
I am going to commit to
which is slightly like choosing
between your two parents.
You can’t pick one happily
and freely
without knowing what could’ve been
if you lived with dad instead.
It’s tricky to wake up in the morning.
It’s tricky to get out of bed
because I know that sooner than later
I will either be moving
that bed into the basement
or into a dorm
which won’t be on the campus I really desire
because God knows I didn’t
save enough pennies for that.
My whole future is before me.
Almost literally
considering the number of pamphlets stapled
over the dreams I carved so meticulously
out of my ‘mind wood’
with my ‘What do you want to be when you grow up’ knife.
So that’s intimidating.
And all those “it’ll work itself out” speeches
that surround me
don’t make the choices
suddenly blare across the radio
or start blinking from neon signs
telling me what to do
what to chose
what to be.
In the end,
all those “don’t worry about it”
and “you’ll figure it out”
do nothing but put a knot in my gut
that no amount of research
or interviews
or Friday night pig outs
can untie.
Because this stuff,
these moments as I build my foundation
for my single LIFE with little slippery Lego blocks
are not made with cheery hand-outs
or inspiring quotes.
LIFE is formed by me
choosing which Lego brick color
choosing which Lego brick shape
and of course
choosing which people will
help me to construct it.
It’s tricky
It’s messy
It’s loud
and it makes other things
hard to focus on.”

“Other things?”
You said.

“Other things.”
I reply.
“You know,
those books I have to read
those graphs I have to draw
those tests I have to study for
those miles I have to run
those words I have to memorize
those labs I have to finish
those annotations I have to complete
those poems I have to parse.
Just THOSE.
Don’t get me wrong.
I don’t mind school
Unlike the kids who complain
that they are forced to educate themselves.
I have no problem learning.
In fact, I want to
long to.
TEACH ME, WORLD!
TEACH ME HOW TO UNDERSTAND YOU IN EVERY LANGUAGE I CAN!
It’s not the books
or the deadlines.
It’s the people.
Bleh.
The people.
The cowardly childish people
with their smug clothes
and horrendous attitudes
that you can smell just over
the stink of their pomp.
Truthfully,
I feel for them
because they don’t feel for themselves.
and because there is little way to prove to these kids
that they can be them
not doctored them
or decorated them
the “them” they thrive to be
not the “them” they try to be.
So I’m surrounded by people
icky people
whose glares and stares
and whispers like cold ghosts
leave me too feeling torn between
being myself
(whatever that even means)
and being accepted.
I want to be free
to try new things,
but new things are poison here at school
new things are demeaning
because they’re demanding.
So,
I have moments where I say
‘Be you. What does it matter?’
But then when I am alone
at the table
at the only open table
with the last chair
the one that squeaks if you
rock to the left
when I am
listening to the music no one knows
and reading the book no one chose
thinking about the movie even no theater shows
that’s when moments of guilt ridden
loneliness bring me to say
‘Put yourself away for now.
Put in a pin in it.
Come back to what you want
after you’re done being what
society thinks you need.’
Because
it is hard to be loved
by one sided people
it is hard to be loved
when the world wants you to say
what it wants to hear.
Us teenagers think we wear invincibility cloaks
So we never have to see those under the invisibility cloaks
‘Don’t question it!’
seems to be the motto of most I meet here.
Because who wants to learn,
who wants to try
if it makes them question their comfort?
And of course that all just touches the surface
of that other thing.
The thing I don’t want to really talk about.”

You pushed me to tell you.

So I did.
“I’m afraid
of God.
I’m afraid
of Death.
I can’t go off of blind faith
like I did when I was young.
I can’t accept ‘Jesus loves you
this I know’
because this I don’t know.
And no one
Not my parent
Not my mentor
Not even my Bible
can give me enough hope in this regard
to bring me to accept not knowing.
This amount of stress is me
Sits as a damp frog
Pestering me to choose
Croaking up unformed opinions
in the form of tar
that I get trapped in.
How can I believe in something
How can I devote my life to something
How can I pray to someone
that I am not even convinced has cared
for a thousand years?
I want to think God knows my name
that he is above me as
those shiny, divine painting portray.
But they’re lies.
And people expect me to believe
that he is smiling down on me like
a new daddy over a crib.
He isn’t a father to me.
So, I feel lost
and confused
and scared that I’m wrong
and even more terrified that I am right.
I’m scared of
God.
And I’m scared
to die.
I don’t quite think I even know
how to live yet.”

“Oh,”
You said.

“Yeah,”
I whispered.
“I know.”

We both paused.
Remember?
My arms rested
at my sides.
Heavy.
Yours swung across
your chest.
Nervous.

“So you’re doing great then?”
You managed to slide through a smile.
“That’s good to hear.”

Could ADD just be a term we describe a growing amount of people who's consciousness has been fundamentally shaped from an early age from a heavy exposure to videogames, culture, computer usage, television and our educational system in tandem.

Science
This is instant messaging in the smallest scale.
Two (or more) particles are separated in space.
An action performed on one is repeated by the other.
Once entwined, they are fundamentally connected.

Romance*
Two lovers that were torn apart
by fate, against them from the start.
They kept a secret close to heart,
a way to stay connected -- how smart!

Wherever you and I may be
the stars are there for us to see.
And so the lovers could agree:
to share the heavens, they were free.

Day or Night matters not,
it changes neither script nor plot.
A love that cannot be forgot
conquers any rational thought.

But as the days went by
fear gripped her.

She thought,
It scares me that we'll never know
if one of us has stopped looking up.

He knew this day would come,
and had responded in advance.

She could hear him say,
If you look up, so will I.
If you stop, I will too.
It's spooky how we'll know,
but we will.

Fear not the coming of that day.
It may not even come, who can say?
Two souls entwined, though far away
are never truly led astray.

Interested in interesting things within your variety skill? Below a fresh plan. Make mosaics applying huge stained-glass items just like setting up a stained-glass windowpane, as opposed to utilizing smaller sections slice to the stagnant, normal models associated with pieces, rectangles, and also triangles. After following that regular practice for so extended, My partner and i grew uninterested in that plus wanted different things. We taken out my own mosaic-artist hat as well as worn my stained-glass-artist head wear for the wonderful modify connected with tempo. Determination number of stained-glass hangings, the item dawned about myself. You should incorporate mosaic skill by using stained-glass fine art? The very first element proved attractively, as good as expected, and that i location checked again considering that. Make understand how you actually, way too, can make all these amazing mosaics.

The initial crucial factor I personally mastered when producing mosaics coming from stained-glass shapes is to reduce the camp material for the specific measurements a regular ready-made open-back frame. That reduces the risk for forking over more the price of a custom shape. We wait for definitely the pastime keep to place their particular ready-made open-back casings available for sale regarding half value and so i usually fork out regarding $25 for any attractive figure, including the installing, paper backing, plus suspending electronics. One of the best dimensions are 18-inches by way of 24-inches. The favorite selection of base material is ordinary 1/8-inch hardboard, which you may get at your best hardware store. I usually get the blankets pre-cut to 2-feet by 4-feet around $5. Hence, for just a meager five us dollars, I have got adequate foundation material for two mosaics, which is superior in the event youe the eager performer on a tight budget. That imperative that you understand that 1/4-inch concerns because thick since you can enter the item installing thoroughly into a ready-made open-back figure. The base material is 1/8-inch thick as well as stained glass is all about 1/8-inch thick, that creates your finished piece regarding 1/4-inch thicker.

Gauge and after that cautiously along with correctly trim the actual hardboard for the actual measurements this open-back shape you plan to use. Let think you wish the actual 18-inch by way of 24-inch dimension. A saw means that you can help make better reductions as compared with wanting to guideline your circle saw physically. If your round saw is actually you could have, this can be achieved, you need to your time and efforts and also wear hurry your cut. Right here guidance. I discovered a new "refurbished" Skil saw on the internet this expense exclusively $80 together with shipping. Whenever it arrived, it checked in addition to operated for instance fresh. I managed to get an amazing $250 spotted after only $80. The trick is to browse on line for just a "refurbished" system as opposed to fresh. Right after calculating as well as observing your hardboard (determine 2 times and become correct), you should definitely format a observed edge to take on your cut-line therefore the resulting portion is just 18-inches by simply 24-inches. Put simply, add trim on the fishing line because the ensuing portion are going to be something such as 18.8-inches by way of Twenty three.8-10 inches tall, which is often they cant suit effectively within the framework. Just about every ready-made shape defined as 18-inches by way of 24-inches in which Internet explorer purchased have been in a curly hair connected with 18-inches simply by 24-inches. Now there not much place with regard to mistake whenever slicing the bottom content, thus determine double plus align this cutter correctly for the slice series. If your ensuing starting material is inside a head of hair with 18-inches through 24-inches, itl fit beautifully into the ready-made open-back figure.

As soon as your starting material is minimize towards the best dimensions, paint them white. Make the most of white colored roof paint primarily because that quite a bit less expensive than common divider coloration. I apply a pair of applications hence the dark-brown hardboard is vivid white. The particular whiter the base content, the actual richer a goblet will be once you hold fast the item towards the aboard. In the event you put on fresh paint the bottom fabric white, the particular wine glass can look unexciting and also dreary about the dark-brown panel.

Seeing that ones platform materials are all set, basically transport a person's stained-glass design towards the board. In case you have absolutely no attracting knowledge, locate a charming stained-glass style on the net or even on your favored activity retailer along with switch your sample to your bottom materials. You can find shift newspaper in your popular interest retail store at under $2 some sort of piece that will sufficient to fund the 18-inch through 24-inch basic product. The beauty with switch report is that you may put it to use more than once prior to it no excellent. For instance eked out up to in search of coach transfers (we.electronic., nine mosaics and stained-glass works) prior to newspaper do not relocated a searching for very well will start to see the lines plainly.

Determine and also cut (in addition to grind the edges when you have a new mill) a stained-glass parts such as you have been developing a stained-glass screen. That i work with really see-through or maybe solid a glass colours to make sure you can observe by it to check out the actual stick when stuck to the base material. For your variety, rather than joining this parts utilizing direct emerged or copper foil and also solder because you might using a stained-glass work, simply glue the actual parts set up over the style for your foundation product making use of simple white PVA fasten (age.h., Elmer Epoxy All or Weldbond), abandoning with regards to 1/16-inch space between pieces. Your spacing may differ as much as 1/8-inch, however wouldn head out just about any larger when compared with 1/8-inch space because I consider the broader space seems to be sloppy in comparison with thin spacing.

While each of the portions will be stuck in-place and also the adhesive features dry out for about 2 days, populate the particular places with your favourite cement colouring, as you'll if the variety had been through with the normal smaller bits of rectangle or maybe triangular shape styles. My partner and i mostly utilize medium-gray cement, yet this most recent preference is usually charcoal (dark) cement. The better mosaics I actually do by using dark colored grout, a lot more I love the idea. Cement coloration can make or break one more look of a person's mosaic, if youe in doubt in what cement color to use, your best bet is with medium-gray.

When the cement possesses dry right away, use the mosaic in your popular hobby retailer while theye which has a sales upon ready-made open-back structures. The best shop incorporates a 50% sales every other 7 days, therefore, if it a strong off few days, I delay weekly. Select various body styles and colors, as well as put them over your variety, one at a time. Have on be happy with the 1st body you get. Check with the particular worker which will figure he believes appears to be very best together with your variety. View which shape allows spotlight the colours in your variety. My partner and i generally consult some other clients inside the speedy space the things they imagine, as well as theye normally wanting to supply their opinion. Once you have the ideal shape, your clerk can install your current mosaic, make use of the newspaper support, and put in this draping components and also cord.

Isn't it about time a gorgeous mosaic to carry on your wall and also allow like a found. The particular neat benefit of it truly is that it common, not the same tedious variety style wee noticed for centuries. That fundamentally a new stained-glass screen set up on some sort of body together with grout while in the rooms rather than solder. You acquired notice that many times. Effectively, not really until finally the many variety music artists on the earth read through this write-up and plunge to this procedure!

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As a child I did not know whether it was the act itself or the knowledge that I was the receptacle for malevolence and cruelty that made me so vulnerable. At first I thought it was God's punishment for something I had done. I took an inventory, desperately seeking the deed that triggered the retribution. But I could not identify a single act. Even my accumulated errors, transgressions and unkindness’s did not exact the cost. Then I understood: if I could not isolate a deed, or pattern of deeds, commanding the punishment, it must be me. It is not what I did. It is who I was...a fundamentally, intrinsically and irredeemably bad little girl. I negotiated my adolescence and early adulthood with the mathematical symbol for "less than" (<) attached.

I would like to be able to write that I am no longer negotiating my adulthood with the same mathematical symbol attached. But that would be a lie. It is pervasive. It is formidable. And if I do not keep it contained, I am so afraid it will be debilitating….I've been down that road a time or two. At times it has enveloped me, penetrating my pores and drowning everything essential and vital inside.

Undisturbed, it is docile, sated. But aroused by even the slightest hint of beauty or strength or grace it is a painful reminder that I am...somehow...contemptible...that I am still fundamentally, intrinsically and incorrigibly...what? Flawed, imperfect & bad? You may say, "But we are all flawed and imperfect. And our flaws and imperfections make us more interesting...more truly beautiful...more human." And perhaps you are right, but this inexorable deprivation makes me somehow subhuman... less than human...permanently broken. I am a receptacle for malice.

I skillfully deflect praise directed my way, an effort to soothe the inescapable conflict inside. Moderate praise induces a subtle twinge of embarrassment; more effusive praise incites the consuming and agonizing feeling that I am irreparably damaged, hopelessly broken. It has contaminated, compromised and diminished every accomplishment, soiled every success. People sometimes tell me that I am humble and that it is an admirable trait. But the modesty and humility they identify helps me to mask the mortification stirring inside. I have gotten so good at hiding it from others that I have nearly learned to conceal it even from myself.

At least that is what it feels like...right now.

"As a core, idealistic truth, love is all that matters. In practice, especially between fundamentally flawed and unfinished beings, it’s not. Sometimes our love isn’t greater than whatever is doled out beside it. It doesn’t always win out. Sometimes it shouldn’t.

When you first realize someone could be something to you, the days become hazy and fluid and the last thing on your mind is logistics. It seems cold to be calculating at the beginning, to compartmentalize a person and see if those parts match up to the whole you envisioned.

We’re so quick to glide over whatever instinctive inkling resonates every time we realize there’s a void greater than our love for someone can fill. We press on, seldom realizing that every relationship culminates in deciding whether or not those instincts are the ones to follow.

Love exists in multitudes. In shades and elements and dynamics. In pieces and in learning, in growth and in change. In strangers and in soul mates. It does not exist as a single, expendable truth or experience. We’re so quick to attach that idea to one person or one relationship. We don’t want to go through the motions of experiencing those levels of commitment, attraction, interrelation with anybody else. The risk of losing is too great, but withholding waives the possibility of ever finding it in the first place.

Some relationships are long, steady, and easy; some are quick and enlightening and challenging. Some brush along our surface and others dive beneath and uproot us. Some might be temporary, one might last “forever.” That doesn’t mean it has to be the only one there is. That doesn’t mean there’s not something to be experienced, to be taken, to be learned, from whatever came before.

You can’t make a relationship something more than what it inherently is. You can’t make yourself fit into something you inherently won’t.

The whole of human love is what’s enough, the parts are just precursors.

We are unfinished, every last one of us. We have to let go of wishing each chapter was the last one because we’re afraid of how it could end otherwise. We have to stop forcing people into being the end-all-be-all for the same reason. We have to paint in contrasts, in love and from loss, and we have to find eventually that the whole picture is filled, and we are filled, from what we take, find, lose, gain, learn, give and create with the multitudes of people who loved us, in the multitude of ways that happens.

You’ll realize you knew the answers to your questions all along, it was only a matter of having the courage to act on them. You’ll let go when you don’t realize you’re doing it. You will have to learn that loving someone doesn’t always mean that being with them is the answer. You’ll realize that love is enough, but the kind of love that makes you stay only partly comes from the person you stay with. The other part comes from you.

You’ll realize you don’t have to be out of love to say goodbye. You’ll learn to separate the two: the loving part of you and the logical part of you. You’ll learn to use them in tandem. You’ll learn that two such things can be used in tandem, though you were taught otherwise and it seems impossible. What you’ll find eventually is the only love worth having is the kind that’s there even when the rest is gone."
-Brianna Wiest

How do you feel about this and that?

A cockroach stealing your children's dreams of a bright and peaceful future?

Watching a mongoloid getting backhanded by a ******* with a heart of gold?

The unknowable can't be evacuated by an atomic bomb.

Knowledge cannot be enthralled by microbiology.

Peace CAN & WILL shatter into fragments by the use of clinical drugs.

Fun finds the cure for cancer in a twisted upbringing that you and your siblings will never be blessed to experience.

Trust can trigger an avalanche of facts, AND satanism should generally avoid including sexuality.

Mary Magdalene turns boring things into ****** tension like peace inspires fundamentally skewered acts of protests.

Our world leaders briefly researching painful mutilations in an ancient garden in Greece, while suggestively grabbing handfuls of lost gifts in a church made from human bones.

How are you feeling about this mess of words I've sewn together?  

Televised revolutions are deeply advertising etched foreskins of death like Disney World sells us dates with Mickey Mouse and his muse Minnie as Donald poses as Adolf ******.   

Watch your friends fade and die as they disobediently blow away blue swamps at your feet, never even bothering you with a decent goodbye.  

There's a supply and demand on our radios briefly warning us of fearful flesh in the background of a dark ash filled sky, gently driving away from mysteries spied through a peephole.

I would have cried briefly, if worshiping premonitions in the shadows was good human behavior...But it's not..

Your sisters are daintily self-destructing emergency shelters dancing w/ both hands in your pockets while vomiting their lunches into fine porcelain. Aren't we lucky?

I am happily reusing substances
and creating electrifying populations with clay and words. A seamstress of sorts I suppose.  But I'm no artist.

Pentecostalism might be able to rid the world of a nightmare and your wildest dream might have been known to lead to a disorder that hasn't yet been but already has five matter of fact cures.

The Bible courses through the veins of vengeance like physics can be used to detect our long-term relationship with Santa Christ. Satan and I think this is exciting!

Complex religious designs can be combined with gracelessness in the name of American eye-candy.  We can be uncomfortable if it's entangled with destiny. Of this I am certain.

"strange"
                                                 is declared
                                                  of person
                                         who rationalizes
                                                that­ matter if
                                         non-human
                                         non-animal
                                         non-living
                                      merits recognition
                                      as being good
                                      on it's own

                                      but really      
                                         are we
                                         the ultimate stewards
                                               of absolute purpose?

                         what confirms                      our judgement

                                        in deeming what deserves
                                             to exist for it's own
                                             and what belongs
                                                 to our means
                                                           ­                 and ours alone?

                                      is it so fantastic
                                                  to suggest
                                      that by some means of
                                                           indefiniteness
                                                  ­of intangible
                                                                ­            comprehension
                                                all matter
                                       is fundamentally intertwined
                                               in the sense
                                            everything is stardust
                                             created by
                                                                ­   the universe's omnipotent hand?

                                      don't you
                                                 ever get the feeling
                                      inside of your conscious
                                                       ­           too?

                                      doesn't your awareness
                                               ever whisper
                                                   as a sentience
                                                you have an obligation
                                                from some unspoken contract
                                                    sign­ed before birth
                                                  to uphold the integrity
                                                  of everything
                                                  that­ inhabits this earth
                                                       whether or not
                                  it thinks in the way                                       you do?

                                      for what purpose
                                           we exist assembled into
                     abrupt                 profound               togetherness
                                      remains       ­      undecided

                                      earth's fabrications
                                                 will survive
                                               harmoniously
                                      but
                                will you
                 do the same?

You!
Hey.
Good-day.
I presume.
Pessimistic flu.
Hypocritical to annoy.
The poor man's Rolls Royce
-is the pessimists one good choice.

They live with fragility,
-unwilling rigidity,
-and rarely tranquility.

Some weep at morbid memories,
-others at faithless fantasies,
-do they (or you?) see the precipices
-between the then, now and will be?

So what if you take a blue bruising back-slap
-for your lacking, a juicy reminding
-for regretful whining, lifetime timing,
-miraculous hopes of a future shining
-because you're wasting your time
-and not even minding!

So listen, or in duller cases, read;
-thoughts are naught but mares and dreams,
-man made mind transparencies
-will's the sum of immediacies
-like waiting in your station
-but you're deciding the destination
-your journey fundamentally what you make it
-it's simple but pessimists are complicated
-would you not trade freedom for a life you hated?

Pessimistic man, forget it
Ranting is silly - you just don't get it
You didn't see the golden beauty I bet it
Gold is copper to you anyway
What would Fibonacci say!

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A ray of **** sunshine on the outside,
no,
I'm a total b-i-t-c-h.
Addicted to hypocrisy,
I'll shoot my veins with moronic ideals til I'm high,
high enough to think that anyone could love me if they'd just try.

Don't ******* comment on my inability to speak sometimes,
it's not something I can help.
****** before I knew what it even meant
and you're surprised I'm in such poor mental health..
Overdramatic, maybe,
a bit more responsible than most,
I'd **** to make my enemies like me.

You, you're no better than me,
your heart's been dripping with sin
since you knew how to speak.
You've had it ******, too, yeah,
so you've gotta punch my face in.
Get it beat into our heads that we're never gonna be good enough,
well,
I just wanna be good enough.

I just wanna be good enough.

You managed to horribly fail every test
Yet you bore the honorary family crest
Until you abandoned me
As friendship isn't free
Leaving me incapacitated
In the infernal infirmary
You had only exacerbated
My own gory purgatory
But I want to see the end of the story
Though it's not going well
Carrier pigeons bring messages of your progress
By ******* on my head
I solve the problem
By staying in my bed
When all I see is red
From all the blood we bled

There was a deep connection
Crossed with a ****** infection
You were so fundamentally friendly
Was it just for the drugs we were blending?
Now I just have nightmares of your life ending
And ponder the value of the time we were spending

Your spirit animal is a coyote
Mine an exploding car
My fragile heart is imploding
From all the black tar
Coming from your lips like the needle
Rushing through my veins until I'm fetal
From your sedating voice
I heard an invading choice
Live alone or die alone
The dog gnawed the bone with it's clone

I just want to hear you're doing fine
So I can stop feeling so **** guilty
And I don't have to hear about you again
For my heart has been untamed
When I feel this constant pain
From a friendship down the drain
There is no peace to be attained
For the friendly fire in my brain

Society has made a pact
On how we must act
People tell me to be a real man
But that seems like a stupid plan
Because every time a guy describes a real man
I hear the way they perceive themselves
A father
Says a real man takes care of his children
A fighter
Says a real man is a protector
We need to break this masculine projector

I used to think being a real man
Meant having a *****
But I'm not even sure about that anymore

How do we unlock
This malebox?
We'd have to leave our houses of hiding
And walk to the road that connects us to each other
But when the fashion is to fake
Our compassion starts to break

In a world
Where things are simple
We can't have a pimple

In a world
Fundamentally filled with maleboxes
We search for a loving locksmith

DEATH OF MAN

Ayad Gharbawi



BOOK ONE
November 25, 2009 - Damascus

So let me speak now on my thoughts that have been gathered from the years of my experiences and from the years of my thinking.
I have come to many conclusions, in a conclusion of my own life.
Let me talk about every subject that concerns you all.
You think of ‘religion’ – and that word has more than one meaning – and I must say that it is not ‘good news’ as so many religious and evangelical people propound.
I tell you my friendless friends that there is NO good news to speak of – at all. It does not exist. That does not mean to say that religious people are lying to you – no, it is just that they are idiots, that’s all.
Why do I say there’s no ‘good news?’ because life is a pile of broken glass, blood, hysteria, panic, depression, failures and ultimate pointlessness.
Let me start from the beginning.
In the beginning, Man was created and he and she are a truly, unbelievably DESPICABLE entity.
That’s my starting point for Man, his History and his so-called Civilisation.
That is my starting point for WHO Man is today as he interacts and talks with other people.
Don’t trust Man!
Don’t believe in Man!
Remember and remember firmly that Man is fundamentally EVIL and you must act accordingly.
If you trusted Man, then you must pay the price.
Why do you then cry?
Didn’t you guess or understand or fathom who this repulsive entity was and is and will be?
Now IF you can actually comprehend that Man is fundamentally evil, then you should be on the Right Path.
Now when I tell YOU that Man is evil, that means that everyone that is around your existence is EVIL.
Your family are evil; your beloved ‘friends’ are evil, your ‘lovers’ are evil, your children are ultimately going to be evil – and this fact particularly HURTS.
The humans in your job are evil. Basically try to understand that EVERONE in your life is evil and act accordingly.
What do these words mean?
These words mean that when your beloved ‘friends’ speak to you then you must pretend and act that you too ‘like’ them. But within your heart, BEAR NO ILLUSIONS! Your ‘friends’ are nothing more than sickening creatures who will one day stab you in your back.
Remember that when humans ‘talk’ to you they do not understand what and why they speak.
Ask your friend this question, ‘Who exactly are you?’
They ought to answer you honestly, ‘I know NOT myself. My Unknown Self’.
ADMIT you humans that you know not who you are!
Think that perhaps you are NOTHING?
Can you understand that question?
Jew Christian Moslem Buddhist Hindu ------- ‘who’ are ‘you’? What is your Self?
What is your Identity?
How can we – we, who do not know you - RECOGNISE you?
And what if we cannot recognise you precisely because your personality is completely unrecognisable?
What if your Self & your Soul are Unrecognisable?
Do you ever – at any flickers of Time – sense & feel that you yourself are Completely Unrecognizable?

the pages of my notebook are probably more lovelorn than i'll ever be
idk
i never longed to be a tree burying my roots deep into Her soil, moaning
okay maybe i did because sometimes i only exist in crumpled up shreds of graphing paper between my awkward handwriting and
things i wish i'd have told you,
residing at the bottom of the ******* bin
(we're all writing about somebody)
fundamentally, i only exist between the blue lines and the margins
i want to be a tree again
Mother Earth is a **** (i mean, dang bruh, she's beautiful)
want my roots reaching as far into her as they'll go / want her attached to me in every way possible / want her in every way possible
i want to stay here forever
if i fall alone in the forest **** right i'll make a sound:
symphony of the lovelorn branches in C-minor except it's not really a symphony i'm just giving an impromptu solo to my ******* bin,
i have played the viola since 6th grade and
heartstrings since 7th

How can I
Falcon fly
While I die
In a web of lies
Where they brutalize
Us like flies

We must communicate
By connecting
To avoid rumors of hate
That are infecting
The non-inspecting
No problem detecting
Yet happiness expecting
Tyrant electing
Issue deflecting
Fascism respecting
Public that's perplexing

So the Internet should remain harmlessly neutral
Instead of adding to our economic Kama Sutra
Finding new ways to ***** each other
Like restricting access to information
So we won't hear the screams of our brothers
To the rich and powerful's elation

Dealing with this pseudo-fame
Feels like a burdensome shame
In order to listen to people
I have to hear them talk
But I fall into a deep hole
When their ignorance is written in chalk
Easily erased
But also easily traced
Yet not so easily faced
Until we're easily replaced
By the voices of our oppressors
Promising to alleviate the pressure
If we'll take a position that's lesser
And never ask them to be a confesser

Each electorate
Must be kept separate
And must be made desperate
So take away their voices
That should limit their choices
The rich want to be molding the clay
So they say to touch it you'll have to pay

I can't sit here and stand it
This particular predicament
That's beyond my bandwidth
Eating this **** sandwich
Given by a grand witch
So I add the name capitalist
To my ******* list
Which they seem to agree with
They rationalize you have to be an ******* to survive
They explain in business that's the only way to thrive
Yet get upset when I call them the biggest ******* alive

The Internet can do infinite good
Yet it is minimized and misunderstood
The faithless fathom
It as a nameless chasm
Made inside our rage filled cabins
But they refuse to see the connections
The healthy introspection
And historical corrections
They'd rather use deflection
Mentioning mundane memes
Or divisive digital teams
They see the shell
But not the turtle
They put us in hell
With a data girdle

Everybody has the same capability to add to the Internet
So they should have equal capacity to use the Internet
Sometimes our economic systems make us act counterintuitively
To what is fundamentally needed by our species
Something humanity has never had before
A comprehensive brain that can connect and inform us all
We've seen money corrupt the minds of humans
Let's not let it corrupt the mind of humanity

(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 13, 2015)

The tendency for people to want to believe that the world is fundamentally just, causing them to rationalize an otherwise inexplicable injustice as deserved by the victims.


All is fair in love and war and making excuses
for your team. But there is no such evildoings
for our guy, our statesman and quarterback
who wears red and blue, for whom no bell tolls.

Winning trumps offering and the ends justify
what we need them to justify. We rally
on consecrated field, behind the hallowed squad
of our heroic puffery.  In World War II,

my young great uncle was finished
by a German ******, himself  a hero
to his team. Propaganda is only something
the Other one does, those cheaters at chess

sneaking plays in dark corners. Not us;
we win justly, thanking our Gods. The losers
starving, ignored, burned alive
like the lot of the poets.

I’m quiet.
I’m afraid if I say anything I’ll start crying,
Screaming,
Laughing,
Maybe all three. That would be something to see.

Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me,
Something fundamentally wrong in my brain.
Why don’t I like people touching me?
It’s not like I was abused,
Or *****,
Sexually harassed.
I don’t have an excuse off the top of my head,
I just don’t like it.

I’ve asked before,
Asked for this one boundary.
She uses every part of me.
I am a tool,
Something to show off.
I get it.
I just hoped that maybe,
Just maybe,
Touch could be my one thing.
Just please don’t touch me.

I feel bad for you,
My Mother said as she grabbed my face,
No one will ever love you.
She’s probably right.
How could anyone love what they couldn’t touch?
Still I had to ask,
Just please don’t touch me.

We are in a small, confined booth now.
She wraps her arm around me to take a picture,
Even makes a big show of prefacing it with an apology.
I know you don’t like being touched,
But,
I’m going to touch you for this picture.
This picture I will show off to all my facebook friends,
I’ll show off my happy family,
My successful daughter.
Look how happy we all are.

Her bracelet caught on my sweater.
She leaned close,
I could feel her breath on my neck and I panicked,
She was so close.
I ****** away,
My body slammed into the wall of the booth.

I could see an apology on her lips,
I could see the maternal instinct starting to kick in,
Just to watch it be drowned by the hurt in her eyes.

Being hurt,
Pain,
It can look like many things.
To me it looks like My Mother lashing out,
Verbal knives pinning me against a wall.
This is the look that drowned out any maternal instinct in her eyes.
She excused herself to the bathroom.
I knew I should’ve gone to apologize.
Say that I didn’t mean to,
Blame it on a headache.

But I was scared.
Fear gripped me and held me in that booth seat.
I knew if I got up,
Went to that bathroom,
She would only scream false lies at me.
She wouldn’t mean them.
They’d still hurt.

So later that night,
When my Mother was crying and crying in the hotel room next to mine,
My Dad texted me
Asked me to meet him in the lobby.
I got down there and the look on his face said it all,
I had failed.
I burst into tears.

He dragged me into a conference room,
Looking around to make sure no attendants or workers noticed.
Asked why I had done it,
Informed me of all the pain, and suffering my Mother is now going through,
Because of me.
Because I couldn’t withstand her touching me for more than 15 seconds,
For a stupid God forsaken picture.

When I found a space between my tears and his accusations,
I plead that I had tried.
I tried my best to be okay with it.

I couldn’t explain to him that it was more than just dislike.
It was invasive,
Whatever instinctual fight or flight switch I had,
Touch triggered it.
How could I tell him it made me feel repulsed,
Revolted,
Disgusted,
Nauseated,
It tore my insides to pieces trying to hold myself together for a picture.
How could I tell him any of this?

So I cried and cried and cried.
And when I got back upstairs,
Saw the notifications on my phone,
And checked on facebook to see that happy picture,
Of a happy daughter,
A happy mother,
And a happy family,
I felt ashamed

I felt guilty,
I felt wrong.
They all wanted this,
They wanted this picture to be true,
And I didn’t know how to give it to them.