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Kay P Aug 2014
My favorite thing about the Earth
is even though it kicked and screamed
when it found out that it revolved around the sun
and not the other way around,
its view changed from 'God created us as the center of the universe'
to 'God placed the sun just there so we could thrive.'
And it stopped complaining.
August 12th, 2014
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2016
it was in glasbury-on-wye (wales),
school trip,
two teams, driven out of the
house we were staying,
i was in team no. 2,
we were given the assignment
to read maps...
team no. 1 got dropped off
at a shorter distance to the
house we accommodated...
my team was dropped further afield...
getting out of the mini-bus
i got the map... and just asked
'where are we, on the map?'
'here,' said the driver's index finger.
i figured out a shortcut,
via the fields, the forest, via cow grazing
patches...
we beat team no. 1...
but the moral of the story?
i still think you need to be greek,
i.e. you still have to "believe" the earth is flat...
a flat earth makes sense with directions
like east, west, south, north...
i cruised the team to an early victory
rotating the map in my hands...
i wasn't being ignorant...
i wasn't being competitive...
but to be honest i had one thing in mind...
copernican east? copernican west?
huh?!
how can you work that one out?
i know copernicus was right to stress
the earliest signs of an anti-heliocentric way of seeing,
but if there's no lucifer looking at a 2 dimensional
map of the earth... geocentric improvements
don't really help to just argue rather than get from
a. to b.; what good is geocentric copernican east
to my flat plateau need to co-ordinate a group
of people? heliocentric copernican east is
geocentric east, west, north south put together,
given the earth's orbit and the expanding universe...
geocentric my ***... i had to turn into a inverse
heliocentricity... i had to navigate on a readable flat
plateau, moving the map one way up
one way the other... and we got there... beat
the other team... didn't push any cows onto the pasture...
so that's how lucifer read the map.
Lexical Gap Jan 2015
Priests and mothers alike laughed
when it was proposed that he is the center of everything I know.
That forces, still not understood,
push and pull me around in a spinning dance
like the ones I dreamt of before those forces took hold
and polarized my ideals.
Firmly in control,
but with his soul's solar flares reflecting my tilted axis,
fires burn in passionate eyes,
and I can see only by the light
that he casts on my life.
Finger tips brush across skin
like sunlight on morning cheeks,
each photon preserved in poetic eternity,
as it traveled through emptiness from my solar system's heart.
It's worth the dizziness of my travel
to arrive in summer close by his side
to soak in those rays,
and sneak raised glances up at skies that are his eyes,
blue as though in tribute to my oceans below.
With gazes that could move heavens
and ideas that shine as numerous
as the stars in his velvety backdrop,
heliocentricity has become a sure truth in my life.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2021
i'm a mangled sort of man... i'd love to tease the whole alpha-male / beta-male dichotomy... use some other greek letters (i will use one) like γ-male or σ-male... someone in history once said... i'm the alpha & the omega... well... i'm an omega-male... i go to brothels, i ride a bicycle at night on Sunday when the air is crisp and devoid of wind and traffic pollution: devoid of traffic to begin with... reaching speeds that make my eyes water... my estimate it... 30mph... i don't date: never have, never will... why would i pay for food and hope: "hope" for getting laid, when i can bypass all the ******* with a *******? i don't own a car because i don't want to pay road tax... i don't want to pay for parking... i don't want to pay for insurance or an annual m.o.t. check... obviously i have to fork out on an inner tube from time to time... a new tire... some chain grease... even on the outskirts of London... if i wanted to cycle into London to admire it... hell... it beats walking in and around the sights... even if it's a 15 mile sloth ride's worth past Little Bangladesh of: from Ilford through to Mile End... it's a lot easier not being native of this land... even the foreigners have this knack of citing: born & bred... well... born 'ere... hardly bred... i was living on these shores from 1994... my father came in 1990... he would have been legally allowed to stay in 1997... since... every illegal immigrant living for 7 years... covertly... in England would be allowed to stay... we were deported in 1997... on the day that we heard princess Diana was killed in a car crash... my grandfather was visiting... trauma... the day before we went to a makeshift entertainment park with... oh i remember it well... the name of the ride is a bit murky... but it was like a ferriswheel that started spinning horizontally before slowly changing to a vertical rotation... i was fierce in competition sliding a ball into several holes on an elevation to win a... crimson rottweiler imitation plush toy for my mother... which i did... the next day princess Diana died... the home office came... with the police... an old school version of Batman & Robin was playing on the t.v.... my father made a runner... they caught him... i watched as my parents were hand-cuffed... in my room i was standing looking at the wall when a home office police officer came in and said: earnestly... nice computer... i turned around and gave him... eh... a death stare... when the commotion was over i was sobbing and punching the wall... while my grandfather didn't know what to do... they released my parents after a day's worth of interrogation... we were politely asked to leave the country in a space of a month... or two weeks... so we sorted everything out... gave a newly bought cat to my ****** uncle etc. and left... for a year... the world cup was happening in France (1998) while i watched the final in complete blackout with my great-grandmother, Mary... i even remember the opening ceremony... but the place was changed... i was to be put into a school for autistic children... generally... problem children... i couldn't just... be reintegrated into the schooling system in Poland... so... i was home-schooled... math... and still... reading books in English... that's how i came across... the Little Prince... all my friends designated my a: traitor's role... we changed our surname... a ****** name in ****** to begin with... even ******* surname in English... if only there was a German SCH in it... much more sense... yes... i was, am... was... an economic migrant... like your Turk in Germany...  but since we're talking... someone from under the old Warsaw Pact... suspicious?! well... no suspicions now! i don't even know whether they're my countrymen... it only takes one Muslim to suppose you're a German that... well... i'll go with that... but hey! now the natives have invited the Afghans to a Scarborough hotel... and it's... going... oh so well! am i still a "racist" if i ****** a black girl and dated a half-indian? ****** a Roma girl... a Thai surprise and... ooh... the love of my life... if i had to put it into 30 minute's worth... ol' raven haired Turkish delight... my ******* yummy... at this point... i'm all shovel & dust... i simply don't care... that's the plan... as i once remarked: the best plan is to... have no plan... just the will to overcome personal griefs. i'm not native enough to care... we were supposed to treat England as a stopover before, hopefully reaching Canada via Argentina... but then that massive crash in Argentina happened... i returned to England... somewhat... refreshed... i'll write in Ing-Leash... i'll speak in Ing-Leash... i'll even... for ****'s sake THINK in Ing-Leash... but in private?! to hell with speaking this language! i'll speak in ****** while teasing myself with some German! hell! i'll even employ Greek! Latin!

it's hard to orientate your unconscious when you
hear stories that...
being born with a Chernobyl "tattoo" (on my right
shoulder blade, later removed)...
plagued with hernia...
and the fact that some nurse tried to **** you while
in hospital... monstrous hybrid...
i wasn't born a monster...
             how i became one...
                            at least intellectually...
the assassination attempt by this nurse
was a failure... my heart was enlarged...
enlarged to the point of, what?
loving everyone... the select few...
now... it's the size of a pebble...
i sometimes feel its gravity sinking my chest
into an implosion...

hence my suspicion of all women...
well... except the prostitutes...
those women i'll love even if my whittle wichard
malfunctions because i'm so drunk &
so limp that i end up asking her
for words for eyes, mouth, freckles, fingers
in her Romanian... later the same girl
is donning pigtails... but no schoolgirl uniform...
of course i'm suspicious:
it's unconscious: from what i've been told...

oh i'm so familiar with this thought-out plot
of "privilege"... for a while in England
i forgot about race...
now... it's glaring in my face... i went along with
the narrative for so much time...
now i'm asking questions a child might ask:
why are these current... "illegal" migrants allowed
to stay... rough up a hotel in... wherever...
while in 1997... i was politely told to leave?
i might be petty now...
but back then...
back then from the few outliers there was no real
concern for race...
then again: the attack from the grammatical
side of things: pronoun me you this that i & the other...
it's hard not to see a second recurrence
of a culmination crux that galvenized
a Charles Manson...
this **** (time) is on repeat! it's absolutely...
petrifying!
it's like the 20th century... at least its later halve
is... what it is! something best avoided but
at the same time: unavoidable!
nothing's current: in that everything is recurrent!
it's not like history is dead...
nothing ever really dies...
and since it doesn't die...
and cannot return to something resembling
a linear setting... it has accumulated itself
in... time as cyclic... ergo non linear...
the 20th century has given us that...
i always thought that space was a cyclic invention...
what with the orbit of planets etc.
but time seemed to be forever... linear!
that's not the case anymore...
prior to the 20th century... sure... time, with hindsight
appears to be linear...
but now?! now?! it's a cyclic mess!

today i was pondering ******* off to Poland
to keep my grandmother company...
become an English teacher
and live in a ******* of my birth...
the metallurgical industry is non-existent...
what will i do? teach more ****** girls and boys
some English to come over here for
the brain-drain and what... surf the great tide
of... the world sub-staining?

double-standasrds... why can't i inherit the merit
of my fellow country-men in the survival
of the United Kingdom...
those airmen who had dog fights with spitfires
across the English sky?
i can't: i wish i could...
i need to make my own mark...
like in conversation with my mother, today...
she can compliment on my i.q.:
but beside my i.q.: i'm "lazy"... i'm narrow...
i'm whatever insult pleases you to entertain...
my mother is like my past girlfriends...
if you want a ******* cushion!?
here! lay your head on this stone! ******.

my father always had the softer approach...
my heart it spent...
it has shrank to the size of a date...
a pebble...
                    i'm listening to:
for ****'s sake... Templar music...
  die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
and i see it! i see it... women!
they require so much attention from stone-hearted men!
they need to be slapped-up a bit...
no joke...
      they go off on their trans-racial escapades
and return... what? *****?!
******* gloomy... properly disinhibited...

******* curry... so much science goes into
a curry... i need to have it explained...
bake me a proper baked chicken:
Kurvinder...
oh wait... you can't!
you're going to dice the chicken ******* up...
forgo using the entirety of the corpus
hardly saute the meat... just soak it the gravy...
tell me... lucky you:
with the addition of spices...
curry isn't exactly the highest extent of
the collective human: cuisine...
but the way it's being ate: subsequently sold...
it's the only cuisine left available...
i like a curry... but for, ****'s sake...
i also love Baltic sushi surrounding the mythology
of the herring!

dill! dill! & a creamy sauce with pickled cucumber!
i never attached much concern for
the love of my mother: i don't she ever allowed me
to attach it...
she has even prescribed her final will as being...
lost on the "tablature" of medical students...
she's to become a corpus readied for medical practicses...
i can't bury her... curry her... scatter her ashes..

if my mother doesn't wish me to be a weakling...
my father sees unimportant...
tras-racial sexuality is such a faze
for a lot of these girls...
it's great mingling among Kenyans
******* fellow Kenyans...
no one ever asked... in pop... context...
don't do Orangutans...
resemble...down syndrome specimens?!
oh i get the gorilla, the chimpaneze...
but an orangutan?
the eyes are not... bother somely close
together?
to reiterate... the people selling "us"...
Darwinism are not selling us
the... Wittgensteinian admiration
for the Copernican model of
heliocentricity... oh wow... the first to not...
make it a summit of discovery crediting
Galileo... such an un-western "thing" to do...
*******...
          i'll be siding with the Russians and
the Ancient Greeks from now on...
you... plausible palsy... ******' retards!
no... you had your fun!...
now comes the wound... now comes the salt!

i was illegal once... i learned my lesson...
the day itself was made "illegal" since princess Diana died...
then i became legal after a hiatus...
best be... the happy camper...
             now? Noah! Noah!
you want me... to... reintegrate: inegrate myself
to suit... there was a ******* Warsaw Pact...
the pan-Slavic movement that nourished the birth and kept
upheaval of the Soviets...
the Slavs were to come together...
sure... beside the Serbs who...
well the Ottoman Empire were supposed to do X...
we'll do Z...
but we excluded all the barbers..
Y? oh **** knows... let's call in "NATO"...

it's welcome though: we're the... ahem... little people...
apart from the women.. they know their worth....
they can be snatched up: h'americana ridiculed...
subsequently let loose!
by numbers... i reduce my concern for reality
with tye numbers i'm given:
i'm always like... this ****... best not happen..
in my vicinity... if it does...
i'm out... no... there's no "game".

i'll say what my mother is of afraid of saying:
we're walking abortions...
sorry... but that's what we are...
i believe that there's traction... serious traction for
this opinion in...
the "land of the free"...
i personally feel like a walking abortion..
i ought to feel like... argh... grr...
sort of ownership of manhood..
i substituted ***** envy with beard envy:
but now...
no.... even my mother disqualifies me
as being... "proper" recipient...
of... "reciprocation"...
lesson learned...

  i need to become a dis-hearted...
a... a heartless man.
cool cool...
i can do that...
                         sell me some painkillers will you?
or am i smooth as **** i'm willing to **** someone
on the *****-nilly!

perhaps i never urinated on a homeless man...
i'm pretty sure i spat a wonderus spat...
from 4 stories in a car park...
to get back at the colts who spat at my father
when we visited Chessington
world of "adventure"...

otherwise... i'm so mangled...
i use both the imperial and the metric systems...
e.g.
185°F for an anglaise sauce:
custard... which implies
you don't heat the eggs prior to beating
them with the milk & cream...
sure... gelato is superior in taste to ice-cream...
but gelato isn't equipped for storage...
ice-cream on the other hand is...

165°F for roast chicken: *******....
butterfly... it takes circa under 20 minutes
to roast them perfectly...
i watch Australian Masterchef and hear
of these stories of... recipes passed down...
grandmothers with traditions...
sorry... world war II happened...
herr bite bon-bon came round
as did the soviets... then i left...
oh i do remember my grandmother's cooking...
she managed to roast a chicken to
the point of making the ******* have the texture of...
chalk!

i'm a mangled sort of creature...
i remember all the months of the year in Ing-Leash...
january, febuary, march, april, may, june
july, august, september, october, november... december...
but i can't remember them in my native tongue...
styczeń, luty, marzec, kwiecien, maj...
i forget june... czerwiec... listopad... grudzień...

i'm pretty sure you could usurp some of the diacritical
"constipation"...
akin to Kwiecień....
you could write it so... while decapitating the iota...
i.e. Kwiećιeń: kwit... cień...
a blooming of a shadow...
flower... kwiat... cień. vs. ćιeń: shadow...

the month of the blooming of shadows...
there are hardly any surds in western Slavic...
let me reiterate... there are no surds
like there are surds in Ing-Leash...
gnome whereby... the apostrophe ought to be
better employed!
'nome for gnome... it's not even that
"too" many words in Ing-Leash
sound the same but are spelled differently...

ich bsitzen die nacht!
as much as i abhor the Hindu percusion
of reincarnation:
come again? there are only a fixed number
of original souls in this project...
the rest are...sleeping souls...
let be abuse that a little...
if there's any genuine reincarnation...
to have taken place...
then i am... Konrad van Wallenrode...
hey presto!
there are only  a limited amount of souls
to b shared the reincarnated... humanoids...
the rest are... ******* zombies?!
o.k. fair enough... Hindu glue...
gi ahead... the rest are zombies...
******* curry retards...
          sure... i'm also a reincasrnation...
i'm a reincarnation of Konrad von Wallenrode,
how's that?!

i'm 6ft2 not 189cm
98kg not... however much stones and pebbles
that is...
i live among these IngLeash people
i look at the coming children...
two women walking a child buggie
spot me... sweating all over my stomach...
the one walking the buggie probably has a hubby...
trips up into a poker face...
her fwend... looks at me and says... WOW...
the **** is this current *******: "wow"?!
i own a bicycle i don't own a car...
i wish i owned a horse?!

i like exercise more than ****** because...
i get to exercise more than i get to ******?!
perhaps i ****** in a way that makes me scout
for pornographic actresses that
like to **** it off while looking into the
"Dajjal"...
                i like those.... there's a lyric about them:
i can **** it smile...
democracy: knock knock...

personally... it sounds like a terrible idea
to have children...
as much as i'd love to...
no... not really... not from what's coming from
the pop culture narrative...
personally... i wouldn't want to... my genes...
m'ah...  put through...
the currency of the current *******...
    i don't... want... to... put... my genes...
through... the argumentations of...
IDIOTS!
to reproduce in order to diminish IQ?!
*******! i'm out!
i'm done... forget this *******!
idiots & their ruling class!

i'm happy to leave this earth to the copper skinned
and the African blessed...
look ast me... there will always be people
readily to come...
i have to make an impetus usually associated
with the argument that claims:
it claims! i must! i must!
no... thankfully i don't!
i have to celebrate individualism...
don't i?!

i have lost what Darwinism was originally
supposed to arm me with...
that's what happens...
societies that propaganda Darwinism to
such an extent as it must be sold...
how is Darwinism equivalent to
the Copernican... blah...
      i don't even think it's project vanity
to flee into... as counter... argument...

from the ancient times: **** similis could
be extracted from **** spiens...
"****": the similitude of ape to man
and vice versa was known to ancient Romans!

nacht(s) ist nicht(s):
gott! mit! uns!
         mien ich! ja: mein kommandant...
alles, dies... braucht zu brennen...
ich liebe du...
       aber... aber...
             ich-du... du-du...
            ich wollen
töten wie du ar lieben!
   i love German...
the worst sort of German i speak... write..
the better it resounds...
it always makes me being clued in...
on the offensive against the Russians!
but i also abhor the Anglicans.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2021
i'm a mangled sort of man... i'd love to tease the whole alpha-male / beta-male dichotomy... use some other greek letters (i will use one) like γ-male or σ-male... someone in history once said... i'm the alpha & the omega... well... i'm an omega-male... i go to brothels, i ride a bicycle at night on Sunday when the air is crisp and devoid of wind and traffic pollution: devoid of traffic to begin with... reaching speeds that make my eyes water... my estimate it... 30mph... i don't date: never have, never will... why would i pay for food and hope: "hope" for getting laid, when i can bypass all the ******* with a *******? i don't own a car because i don't want to pay road tax... i don't want to pay for parking... i don't want to pay for insurance or an annual m.o.t. check... obviously i have to fork out on an inner tube from time to time... a new tire... some chain grease... even on the outskirts of London... if i wanted to cycle into London to admire it... hell... it beats walking in and around the sights... even if it's a 15 mile sloth ride's worth past Little Bangladesh of: from Ilford through to Mile End... it's a lot easier not being native of this land... even the foreigners have this knack of citing: born & bred... well... born 'ere... hardly bred... i was living on these shores from 1994... my father came in 1990... he would have been legally allowed to stay in 1997... since... every illegal immigrant living for 7 years... covertly... in England would be allowed to stay... we were deported in 1997... on the day that we heard princess Diana was killed in a car crash... my grandfather was visiting... trauma... the day before we went to a makeshift entertainment park with... oh i remember it well... the name of the ride is a bit murky... but it was like a ferriswheel that started spinning horizontally before slowly changing to a vertical rotation... i was fierce in competition sliding a ball into several holes on an elevation to win a... crimson rottweiler imitation plush toy for my mother... which i did... the next day princess Diana died... the home office came... with the police... an old school version of Batman & Robin was playing on the t.v.... my father made a runner... they caught him... i watched as my parents were hand-cuffed... in my room i was standing looking at the wall when a home office police officer came in and said: earnestly... nice computer... i turned around and gave him... eh... a death stare... when the commotion was over i was sobbing and punching the wall... while my grandfather didn't know what to do... they released my parents after a day's worth of interrogation... we were politely asked to leave the country in a space of a month... or two weeks... so we sorted everything out... gave a newly bought cat to my ****** uncle etc. and left... for a year... the world cup was happening in France (1998) while i watched the final in complete blackout with my great-grandmother, Mary... i even remember the opening ceremony... but the place was changed... i was to be put into a school for autistic children... generally... problem children... i couldn't just... be reintegrated into the schooling system in Poland... so... i was home-schooled... math... and still... reading books in English... that's how i came across... the Little Prince... all my friends designated my a: traitor's role... we changed our surname... a ****** name in ****** to begin with... even ******* surname in English... if only there was a German SCH in it... much more sense... yes... i was, am... was... an economic migrant... like your Turk in Germany...  but since we're talking... someone from under the old Warsaw Pact... suspicious?! well... no suspicions now! i don't even know whether they're my countrymen... it only takes one Muslim to suppose you're a German that... well... i'll go with that... but hey! now the natives have invited the Afghans to a Scarborough hotel... and it's... going... oh so well! am i still a "racist" if i ****** a black girl and dated a half-indian? ****** a Roma girl... a Thai surprise and... ooh... the love of my life... if i had to put it into 30 minute's worth... ol' raven haired Turkish delight... my ******* yummy... at this point... i'm all shovel & dust... i simply don't care... that's the plan... as i once remarked: the best plan is to... have no plan... just the will to overcome personal griefs. i'm not native enough to care... we were supposed to treat England as a stopover before, hopefully reaching Canada via Argentina... but then that massive crash in Argentina happened... i returned to England... somewhat... refreshed... i'll write in Ing-Leash... i'll speak in Ing-Leash... i'll even... for ****'s sake THINK in Ing-Leash... but in private?! to hell with speaking this language! i'll speak in ****** while teasing myself with some German! hell! i'll even employ Greek! Latin!

it's hard to orientate your unconscious when you
hear stories that...
being born with a Chernobyl "tattoo" (on my right
shoulder blade, later removed)...
plagued with hernia...
and the fact that some nurse tried to **** you while
in hospital... monstrous hybrid...
i wasn't born a monster...
             how i became one...
                            at least intellectually...
the assassination attempt by this nurse
was a failure... my heart was enlarged...
enlarged to the point of, what?
loving everyone... the select few...
now... it's the size of a pebble...
i sometimes feel its gravity sinking my chest
into an implosion...

hence my suspicion of all women...
well... except the prostitutes...
those women i'll love even if my whittle wichard
malfunctions because i'm so drunk &
so limp that i end up asking her
for words for eyes, mouth, freckles, fingers
in her Romanian... later the same girl
is donning pigtails... but no schoolgirl uniform...
of course i'm suspicious:
it's unconscious: from what i've been told...

oh i'm so familiar with this thought-out plot
of "privilege"... for a while in England
i forgot about race...
now... it's glaring in my face... i went along with
the narrative for so much time...
now i'm asking questions a child might ask:
why are these current... "illegal" migrants allowed
to stay... rough up a hotel in... wherever...
while in 1997... i was politely told to leave?
i might be petty now...
but back then...
back then from the few outliers there was no real
concern for race...
then again: the attack from the grammatical
side of things: pronoun me you this that i & the other...
it's hard not to see a second recurrence
of a culmination crux that galvenized
a Charles Manson...
this **** (time) is on repeat! it's absolutely...
petrifying!
it's like the 20th century... at least its later halve
is... what it is! something best avoided but
at the same time: unavoidable!
nothing's current: in that everything is recurrent!
it's not like history is dead...
nothing ever really dies...
and since it doesn't die...
and cannot return to something resembling
a linear setting... it has accumulated itself
in... time as cyclic... ergo non linear...
the 20th century has given us that...
i always thought that space was a cyclic invention...
what with the orbit of planets etc.
but time seemed to be forever... linear!
that's not the case anymore...
prior to the 20th century... sure... time, with hindsight
appears to be linear...
but now?! now?! it's a cyclic mess!

today i was pondering ******* off to Poland
to keep my grandmother company...
become an English teacher
and live in a ******* of my birth...
the metallurgical industry is non-existent...
what will i do? teach more ****** girls and boys
some English to come over here for
the brain-drain and what... surf the great tide
of... the world sub-staining?

double-standasrds... why can't i inherit the merit
of my fellow country-men in the survival
of the United Kingdom...
those airmen who had dog fights with spitfires
across the English sky?
i can't: i wish i could...
i need to make my own mark...
like in conversation with my mother, today...
she can compliment on my i.q.:
but beside my i.q.: i'm "lazy"... i'm narrow...
i'm whatever insult pleases you to entertain...
my mother is like my past girlfriends...
if you want a ******* cushion!?
here! lay your head on this stone! ******.

my father always had the softer approach...
my heart it spent...
it has shrank to the size of a date...
a pebble...
                    i'm listening to:
for ****'s sake... Templar music...
  die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
and i see it! i see it... women!
they require so much attention from stone-hearted men!
they need to be slapped-up a bit...
no joke...
      they go off on their trans-racial escapades
and return... what? *****?!
******* gloomy... properly disinhibited...

******* curry... so much science goes into
a curry... i need to have it explained...
bake me a proper baked chicken:
Kurvinder...
oh wait... you can't!
you're going to dice the chicken ******* up...
forgo using the entirety of the corpus
hardly saute the meat... just soak it the gravy...
tell me... lucky you:
with the addition of spices...
curry isn't exactly the highest extent of
the collective human: cuisine...
but the way it's being ate: subsequently sold...
it's the only cuisine left available...
i like a curry... but for, ****'s sake...
i also love Baltic sushi surrounding the mythology
of the herring!

dill! dill! & a creamy sauce with pickled cucumber!
i never attached much concern for
the love of my mother: i don't she ever allowed me
to attach it...
she has even prescribed her final will as being...
lost on the "tablature" of medical students...
she's to become a corpus readied for medical practicses...
i can't bury her... curry her... scatter her ashes..

if my mother doesn't wish me to be a weakling...
my father sees unimportant...
tras-racial sexuality is such a faze
for a lot of these girls...
it's great mingling among Kenyans
******* fellow Kenyans...
no one ever asked... in pop... context...
don't do Orangutans...
resemble...down syndrome specimens?!
oh i get the gorilla, the chimpaneze...
but an orangutan?
the eyes are not... bother somely close
together?
to reiterate... the people selling "us"...
Darwinism are not selling us
the... Wittgensteinian admiration
for the Copernican model of
heliocentricity... oh wow... the first to not...
make it a summit of discovery crediting
Galileo... such an un-western "thing" to do...
*******...
          i'll be siding with the Russians and
the Ancient Greeks from now on...
you... plausible palsy... ******' retards!
no... you had your fun!...
now comes the wound... now comes the salt!

i was illegal once... i learned my lesson...
the day itself was made "illegal" since princess Diana died...
then i became legal after a hiatus...
best be... the happy camper...
             now? Noah! Noah!
you want me... to... reintegrate: inegrate myself
to suit... there was a ******* Warsaw Pact...
the pan-Slavic movement that nourished the birth and kept
upheaval of the Soviets...
the Slavs were to come together...
sure... beside the Serbs who...
well the Ottoman Empire were supposed to do X...
we'll do Z...
but we excluded all the barbers..
Y? oh **** knows... let's call in "NATO"...

it's welcome though: we're the... ahem... little people...
apart from the women.. they know their worth....
they can be snatched up: h'americana ridiculed...
subsequently let loose!
by numbers... i reduce my concern for reality
with tye numbers i'm given:
i'm always like... this ****... best not happen..
in my vicinity... if it does...
i'm out... no... there's no "game".

i'll say what my mother is of afraid of saying:
we're walking abortions...
sorry... but that's what we are...
i believe that there's traction... serious traction for
this opinion in...
the "land of the free"...
i personally feel like a walking abortion..
i ought to feel like... argh... grr...
sort of ownership of manhood..
i substituted ***** envy with beard envy:
but now...
no.... even my mother disqualifies me
as being... "proper" recipient...
of... "reciprocation"...
lesson learned...

  i need to become a dis-hearted...
a... a heartless man.
cool cool...
i can do that...
                         sell me some painkillers will you?
or are smooth as **** i'm willing to **** someone
on the *****-nilly!

185°F anglaise
165°F roast chicken: *******....
butterfly

styczen

january

6ft2 not 189cm
98kg not ...

— The End —