Dil chahe agar k chahu tujhe aur jada,
Pyar karu tujhe khud se jada,
Bana loo tujhe apna,
Kareeb aa jaun tere aur jada,
Jindagi tere naam kar doo,
Bandagi teri bana doo,
Bhar loo tujhko bahon me,
Pyar kar loo tujhe aur jada,
Kyun khafa ** jate **,
Kyun roothkar tum jate **,
Kyun bhool sab kuch jate **,
Jab dil chahta hai k yumhe yaad aaun aur jada,
Tumhe pyar kar loo aur jada,
Beet jayegi jindgani,
Kho jayegi apni kahani,
Roothna manana to hota hi rahta hai,
Kyun dard dete ** khud ko,
Sab jante ** tum agar,
Chahte ** yum agar,
Kyun rooth jate ** aur jada,
Dil chahta hai k pyar kar loo aur jada,
Na rooth tum jaya karo,
Na khud ko yun tadpaya karo,
Kabhi mere bhi ban jaya karo,
Yun khamosh na ** jaya karo,
Kyun khwab me aate ** tum,
Kyu saanso me bas jate ** tum,
Kyun yaad aate harpal aate ** tum,
Kya karu,
kaise khus rakhu tumhe aur jada,
Dil chahta hai k chahoo tumhe air jada,
Puar kar loo tumhe ur jada....

I love you ...
Misss you.

Ek ldki apne pure jeevan Me kya kya sehti hai ish kavita ke madhyam se batana cahti hu....

Waise to Laxmi, durga, saraswati kaha jata hai ladkiyo ko..
To kyu uske janm par mara jata hai ush masum ko....
Ladka hai to hamara chirag hamara vans aur ladki hai to sir ka bojh...
Jara yaad kro aise soch walo ladki na rahe to kahan se laao tum apna vans apna chirag...
Jo tmhe har khusiya De uski jra izzat ni krte....
Samjhte pair ki jutti **...
Are suno bewakufo...
Bina aurat aage ni badh sakte **....

Ladki ka to pura jeevan hi aisa hota hai... Ladki kabhi apna nahi soch sakti suru se maa baap Ka kaha manana aur fhir pati aur saas sasur ka... Apni khusiyo se jada pariwar ka sochna khud ki khwahiso ka Gala ghot sabki baat Manana....girls don't have life of there own... Chaliy aage dekhte hai.... Jb ldki ki saadi ** jati hai...

Ladki ko to suru se paraya dhan samjha jata hai....
Kyuki ushe vida hokr dusre ka ghar swarana hota hai...
Apni maa ka anchal chod...
Kai nae rista nibhana hota hai...
Kisi ki bahu kisi ki biwi kisi ki cachi 1000 riste bn jate hai...
Un sbko pyar se nibhana hota hai...
Ladki ka to naam hi tyag hai...
Kyuki suru se usne apni khusiyo ko tyagna sikha hai...
Kabhi maa baap ke majburi ke karan..
Kabhi society ke karan...
Aur fhir apne maa baap ko chod sasural jana hota hai...

Jara puchna cahti hu un ldko se... Kya tum apne maa ka saya chod reh skte **... Nahi na... To socho ek ldki kaise rehti hogi.... Wo tumhare liy apna har kuch chod skti hai... To kya tumhara farz ni ki uske khusiyo ka khyal rkho... Itna hi to ek ldki mangti hai.. Aur afsos tum log ushe wo bhi Ni de skte... Ldke bus apni jimmedari saupte hai apne faisle thopte hai... Ldki ke saadi ke baad to ushe apne mayke tk jane ka haq ni hota jbtk pati raazi na **... Kya ldki ki koi life hi  nahi...
Hum niyam to nahi badal sakte par itna to kar sakte hai na ki uske khusiyo ka bhi dhyan rakh ske...Kabhi socha hai ek ldki ke andar kitna kuch chlta hai par itne risto Me wo bandh kar kuch nahi keh pati.... Jara samjho ushe jo tumhe ache se samjh jati hai...
Tum kya khate **... Kya pasand hai... Kya kaam kb krte **... Tumhare kapde se lekar jutte tk har cheez ka khyal rkhti hai... Aur tum uska bhi khyal nahi rakh Pate...

Waqt chlta hai ldki maa banti hai....
9 mahine kya kuch seh ke ek bache ko janam deti hai....
Ush 9 mahine wo kis daur se gujarti hai wo wahi janti hai...
Sb kuch Sehti hai par chu tk ki aawaz nahi nikalti...
Aur ladki ka dard koi samjh ni pata...
Ek bache ko achi parwaris deti hai ushe Bada karti hai...
Ek ladki ki puri lyf ek battle field se kam nahi hoti...
Ladki janam se maut tak bahut kuch jhelti hai...
To apka bhi farz banta hai ushe samjhna....
Uski khusiyo ka khyal rkhna...
Ajj jada nahi ek baar Akele baith kr socha what a Girl do for uhh...
As a mother, sister, wife even ur girlfriend...just think ND try to understand her....
Ek khusi ushe bhi dekr dekhiy... Sach Me ldki ishse jada kuch nahi cahti...

Last Me itna hi kahungi...ladki dusro ke liy jeete jeete apna antim saans leti hai....

All I wanted was a night out on the town with her
With all the love and adoration that I promised her
Fitted cap on my head, felt like a trend setter
A mental slap from my momma; I should’ve known better.

Picked her up, and I was starin’ at her gorgeous outfit
Her fitted top, her cotton blouse, and lookin’ fine without it
Honored to stand beside her, I didn’t mind the clues
I found her very attractive wearin’ designer shoes

Took her out to dinner, we’re conversin’,
Lobster in citric acid – she devours, thinks it’s worth it
The in-house chef comes at our table and asks,
“This is the fifth time you’ve ordered,
So can you make this your last?”

The check is at our table; I offer to pay for it
She doesn’t even glance, pullin’ out her phone
I noticed her nails; she paid a lot for ‘em
Dinner was very painful
She wants me over? I'm startin' to see her fatal halo

On our way to her place, a man was gettin’ robbed
I’m shoutin’ at the attackers - she’s actin’ very odd
Tell her to call the cops to try and get these boys to stop,
“Sorry but I’m in a hurry! I’ll see you at the spot.”

Ten minutes later I’m racin’, and knockin’ at her door,
Reachin’ her place and I notice she’s pacin’ back and forth,
She’s on the phone with a “*****” who stole her ex from her
Angry detonation soon as she got a text from her

She tells a “Jada” on the phone, “***** I don’t give a ****!”
Jada responds “wantin' to let you know and wish you luck.”
But you can tell that she was jealous of Jada’s position
Her ex is treatin’ her better, happy with his decision

I’m wonderin’ what happened; turns out that Jada’s pregnant
“She thinks I care about that, knowin’ that I resent him!”
She claims she’s better than Jada in every single way
With self-respect and sayin’ prayers every single day

Seekin’ some validation, she’s beggin’ for a kiss
Intimate opportunity, she’s hopin’ not to miss
Her sweet, angel hazel eyes are lookin’ sour ‘cause
I’m just exhausted and feelin’ the witchin’ hour buzz

She lashes out; I see the reason why this girl is single
Admits to cheatin’ on her ex and so she’s out to mingle
Pulls out a lash and then proclaims that I should punish her?!
I’m out the door within’ seconds cause I’m so done with her!

I love the way the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences let Will Smith sit there, for 40 minutes, preening in the front row, in plain sight, after he assaulted a black man at the Oscars.

I know what you're thinking - wait, isn’t Will Smith black? Well, obviously NOT. In an America where black men are routinely murdered for selling cigarettes or having a broken taillight, Mr. Smith got to commit his crime in front of millions of people. Then sit around like a three-piece suited sultan for over a ½ hour to receive an Oscar and a (reflexive?) standing ovation.

Will, in an effort to make his violence palatable said, in his tearful acceptance speech, that he was protecting his wife. Chris Rock made a joke about her hairdo. Was she actually in some kind of unseen danger? Perhaps this is some kind of new, Muslim “honor” slapping?

The very function of comedian hosts and presenters at the Oscars is to take-the-**** out of these overpaid actor-celebrities. If you multi-millionaires can’t take a joke, stay home or wear a **** wig.

I’m curious, we know Jada and Will have an “open” marriage - because they have said as much. Does that mean, in “Smith” logic, Chris could have *** with Jada but not comment on her looks?

How far does Will’s privilege extend - could he have *****-slapped Betty White (she was pretty salty sometimes) - for instance? I mean, Chris Rock is half Will Smith’s size. Do you think he would have launched up at Dwayne Johnson, Idris Elba or Jason Momoa? I doubt it, even if Will did get to pretend, he was Mohamid Ali for a while.

Chris Rock is a trooper, he took the hit and carried on like a professional. He’s going to be ok. Chris is in the middle of a national comedy tour, and it completely sold out the night of the assault. Even with ticket prices jumping from $49 to $340 per seat. I can’t wait to hear his new bit. I’m fairly sure every comedian in the world will now make a point of making vicious fun of Will - who’s made himself a punchline.

Will Smith will now start an apology tour. “It was a momentary lapse,” he’ll say - like every guy who ever slapped his wife or punched-down on someone weaker than themselves. From now on, whenever Jada’s invited anywhere, she’ll be asked if her husband is coming too and if he can be counted on to behave himself.

Chris Rock generously declined to press charges, but the LAPD doesn't need him to charge Will with assault. I know he’d only get a slap on the wrist, but someone should hold him accountable.

I was a Will Smith fan once.

apno se jada gairon ki yaad aati hai,
jab jindagi kisi gair ki mohtaaj ** jaati hai,
dil ka haal samajhne vala koi nahi hota,
aur jindagi hai k bas ek chidiya ki tarah ud jati hai,
dll me yaad basi rah jaati hai,
mashaal jalti hui achanak bujh jati hai,
aankhon k saamne base andhera hi andhera dikhta hai,
har roshni bhi feeki pad jati hai,
jab jindagi kisi gair ki mohtaaj ** jati hai....
wajah bewajah hi dard uthta rhta hai,
aankhon ka mom har waqt pighalta rahta hai,
aansoo b rasta aona badal lete hai,
dil me tadap k shiva aur kuj nahi bachta hai,
har khwahish dafan ** jati hai,
chahat bas khud ko khatam karne ki rah jati hai,
jab jindagi kisi gair ki mohtaaj ** jati hai.....
shahar logon se bhara hokar bhi veeran lagta hai,
din nikalte hi dhalne lag jata hai,
bewajah koi insaan shaitan lagne lagta hai,
khud ki ek saan bhi bejaan lagne lagti hai,
bejaan aawaj,
rookhe shabd,
pathrayi aankhen,
aur aansuon ki sookhi dhara shrajal ** uthti hai,
jab jindagi kisi gair ki mohtaaj ** jati hai.....
yun to har waqt khyal dil me rhta hai k vo mera hai,
tabhi koi khta hai k vo nahi bas bhram tera hai,
aur kitna pyar me barbaad ** jaun,
khatam ** jaun ya tujhme hi mar jaun,
aasan nahi koi jirah rah jati hai,
har gali kooche se bas unk nikalne ki aas rahti hai,
vo mere nahi har taraf bas ek hi aawaj goonjti hai,
din khatam raat shuru,
roshni gayi andhera shuru,
sath khatam tanhayi shuru,
bas yahi tadpan har ghadi rah jati hai,
vo meri nahi kisi aur ki ** jati hai,
jindagi kisi gair ki mohtaaj ** jati hai....

I want that kinda love like the way Obama looks at Michelle
I want that kinda love Like Cinderella in her happliy ever after fairytale
I want that kinda love thats brings you Heaven in the mist of all hell
I want that kinda love thats gonna be there for you at the lowest point in your life when you fail.
I want that kinda love that if you start Looking into thier eyes you will be put under a spell
I want that kind of love that Feeds your mind knowlege until you both feel Faded.
I want That kinda of love that takes you high and gets your spirit Elevated
I want That kinda of love that keeps you going and movatived.
I want That kinda love where you keep on all your clothes but still be exposed like your naked.
I want That kind of love thats scared
Yes that kinda of love.
I want that kinda love Fitting me like a cold hand to warm glove
I want That kinda Love expressed through the lycis that Jill Scott sings,
That kinda love of how much joy and life loves brings
That kind of love Manifesting the many blessings
That India Arie Compassionate kinda love
That kindred Family soul kinda love
That make soul glow, and your spirit Grow kinda love
That poetic hip hop lauren Hill kinda love
That Vivian and Uncle Phil, Jada and Will kinda love
Yes That Kinda Love
As it Washes away my pain and let me dance in your love like the Summer rain
Kissed by a rose kinda love
Let's Cherish the day as if were are lyrics to the music sung by Sade.
Old school R&B; kinda of love
That Smooth Jazz kem music kinda love
That maxwell fortunate kinda love
That Babyface Whip Appeal so I know its real kinda love
That Cliff and Clair Huxtable Honorable and responsible Kind of love.
That Unlimited, Unconditinal, Uncommon Kind of Love.

That Purpose driven,
On a Mission,
Bringing The vision to fruition
kinda love
1 Corinthians 13 kind of love
You'll be My King and Ill be you Queen kinda of love
That Hebrew Royalty
Showing loyalty kinda love

I want that nourish your soul like Grandmas Homemade Turkey and biscuits casserole kinda love.
I want that Acts 6:3 kind of man with faith, prayer, and a plan.
I want a God fearing man who genuinely understands.
I want a Relationship like Boaz and Ruth,
Taking the journey together living in the Truth
I want a love that will fight for me just as Jocob did For Racheal and I promise I'll always be faithful.
Let it be Pleasing to God's sight just as Leah
But yet As wise As Solomon and The Queen of Sheba kinda love
I want that 1 John 3:18 Kind of love
That Unforseen kinda Love
As we Build like Noah and Nehemiah,
But Weep together like Jeremiah kinda of love
I want that Serve like Sammuel
And Pray like Daniel Kinda of love.
That love me like Christ Kinda of Love.
Yes That is my Kinda of love.

(I wanna give you love2)..Yeah I wanna give you love baby,so (let me give you this love2 baby),(Yeah.let me give you my love baby..2)
Yeah let me give you this love babygirl..
Uhh..(I wanna give you love3)..baby (so just let me give you  love 2)So just let me love you baby....yeah babygirl..,.,( Yeah girl I wanna give you love *2)...(Yeah I wanna love3) you babygirl..,so baby stop kidding around, because you got me so in love..Yeah baby,.. I wanna give you love..Yeah baby,.. I wanna give you my love..Yeah baby..girl I really wanna give you this love,..girl Yeah I wanna give you my all..,
Yeah baby,..girl I wanna give you my heart..Yeah I wanna hold you down baby ,&  I wanna love you down forever & forever,yeah untill death do us part..Uhh so baby please stop fooling around..before you drive me crazy..
Yeah because Babygirl..( I wanna give you love..Yeah baby,..3)..(girl I wanna give you my love3)..(Yeah baby,.. I wanna give you my love..,3)..so baby stop fooling around..

Aye,..baby its just something so **** different about you,Yeah girl you so very clever,Yeah, Babygirl I think that you the one for me , Yeah you the best one Yeah..BabyGirl you so smart,that's why I just need you up in my world Yeah..Yeah, I want  you up in my world,Yeah..baby I just need you apart of my life , Yeah just you girl..Yeah just you baby..
so babygirl please give me your love..Yeah..babygirl please just give me your love Yeah..so babygirl please just give me your love,because I'm really falling for ya..Yeah, so
..(Babygirl give me love,Yeah3)...(Babygirl I need your love,Yeah,Yeah3)
&

I need your love right now,..so stop freaking around, babygirl you making my heart feel like 200 pounds,you weighing a young ***** soul down..when I just wanna uplift you & make you smile... (Babygirl  just let me Know now2)..please baby just let me know something before Life ends on us..Uhh,Yeah
(Are you really down2,yeah)..to spend late nights at my house,.. (babygirl just let me know now2).let me know now..(are you really down2)..to put up with all of this rapping & rhyming  & writing that I be doing all the **** time,yeah..I'm talking bout all **** day Long Babygirl, yeah..****,  I promise to you that I will always try my best to  make  you smile,& make time for you to hang around me , but babygirl my music will always come before you..Baby,thats just business, Yeah..& my business will always come first & be on my mind..

Babygirl writing songs was my very first true love  before I had even ever  met you..for real,Fo show..,I got that type of  love that Will Smith & Jada got  for the ink pen & paper girl Yeah that,Forever love yeah..Girl before I had ever even saw you , I was beating beats up..not yo *****..Uhh..
Babygirl I ain't lying, bout nothing that I'm writing,Noo...but Yeah..
I still do wanna give you my love Yeah..,baby
I really wanna give you this love before I fall for another woman girl...
Aye..I really wanna give you love,every **** day baby only if you are willing to put up & sacrifice for me,(Yeah baby I wanna ..give you love.2).Ayo ,Yeah baby..so let me love you..Cuhz,

(I wanna give you love2)baby so let me give you this love baby,Yeah..Im really dieing inside for yo love, so baby Yeah let Me give you love baby..(I wanna give you love2)..baby let me give you my love,..Yeah girl (I wanna give you love 3),so baby stop kidding around, Yeah baby,.. I wanna give you my love..Yeah baby,.. I wanna give   love..Yeah baby,.. I wanna give you alot of love..,so baby stop fooling around..
Yeah because Babygirl.. I wanna give you love..Yeah baby,.. I wanna give my love,to you..(Yeah baby,.. I wanna give you some love3),baby please let me give you this love,Uhh..,so (baby stop fooling around..baby stop doubting, & baby stop messing around,..because Imma make you fall, .Yeah..(I wanna give you love i said2)


Ayo..I need me a virtuous woman, to give my love to..
Yeah..Yeah,I need me a spiritual woman so I can  give this love away now..
Ayo, I need me a powerful woman to give  my  all to, Aye, & baby that's you..
so babygirl.., let me give you some of this love boo,Aye..
She a teacher too Yeah ,she can teach a young *****  something..yo..I wanna show you babygirl That I could love you better than another man would so just let me love you girl,(yeah Let me give you love,....baby3)
Young Ston..The ****** Disciple

needing you, wanting you.
what’s it gonna take to get over you?
why you make it so hard to move on from you?
why I gotta fight to take my heart from you?
you know **** well it don’t belong to you..
it can’t belong to you.
we both know why, but everyday these feelings are getting harder to deny.
this thing goes deep & I don’t wanna hide.
the only thing I wanna be is by your side.
but you already have your baby.
so maybe it’s only me going crazy.
promised I would never leave you.
I mean, how could I deny you?
my homie & my best friend,
down to ride to the very end.
I feel like we’re Sean & Jhené;  destined to be together some day.
but if I’m wrong, I pray these intimate feelings go away.
because maybe we’re Pac & Jada; it’ll never be goodbye but always see you later.
because if I’m bound to be your friend for the rest of eternity,
then I promise to love you forever platonically and passionately.

She made rivers feel alive
When they washed her hair
She made boys feel definite
At her encounter
It was all she could do
To let the art rush out of her hairline
And grace everyone in sight
She was infinitely more than beautiful
She was everything

takin my life day to day
is really second to second
as the character Wayne
in this movie im filming
i have characters out the ***
full of laughs and tears
from a cast widespread
from my fam to my peers
as the smoke clears i emerge
from the lows to take stage
throw bows and take aim
for my prize waiting for me
the one made by god
no assembly required
to be my leading lady
and rule my loving heart
unlike the others i casted
they were good in some parts
but in the end they couldnt hack it
they got other scenes
the girlfriends and the groupies
two very important troops
taught me how to lie
and point out the truth
on the lighter side of things
lookin higher in my cast and crew
my brothers and sisters
all keep me pullin through
this romantic drama
with words and actions
that spices things up
adding comedy to the equation.

everyone does their own stunts
except the others
i spoke on before
it only happens in *** scenes
so i shouldnt say more
but **** it im grown
in my movie its really my wife
im making scratch and moan
then the other girl re-appears
once the lights come on
and my wife is back
sitting in the Producers chair
waiting till her time
for the shine of my spotlight
from the wedding chimes
till the end credit sign
adding sequels to my life
a little similar but
different from mine
Wayne III and Sydney
will be the first two
those movies will do numbers
ill do a cameo with them too
like Will and Jada
imma have a Wonder Crew
wit uncles and aunties
who will love and cherish
their nieces and nephews
how ever many we have
we dont have a number
all we worried about
is acting this movie out
workin towards the gold
happiness and unity
till were nice and old
and God yells CUT!
our characters will die off
but our story lives for infinity

I look at the waves
and feel the ocean breeze;
the cold atmosphere to my skin
leaving me with goosebumps
But not until you come
and wrap your arms around me
We'd sit together and look at the stars
Play connect the dots
while trying to find the constellation
We form our own shapes
and talk about how we'll create
our own little Utopia
while looking at the midnight sky

Ohh,
the grapes you pop into my mouth
The sweetness is like the kisses
you plant on my lips,
even when I cry
And everything I do,
you wrap your arms around me
and let my tears wet your shirt
You then rub my back and remind me
that the good outweighs the bad
even on my darkest days

I swear you're magnetic
because even when you're away
I can still feel your aura
The burning passion and affection
that we have for each other
is predestined for eternity
and
NO ONE CAN BREAK THAT
But baby,
when we arrive home
the land will carry us
and we'll uphold our values
for pessimisstic beliefs
are just myths
because love does exist
And man, this one that we have
is sureal
It's real,
but it's like it's not
because it's like living in a fantasy
It's just orange soda you see
Tastes delicious
when it touches my taste buds
and goes down my throat
into my stomach
**** IT'S APPETISING

Tupac said to Jada
that she brings him
to ****** without ***
and baby, I give those words to you

I wanna live with you
FOREVER
even when we're ghosts
or magical creatures in Utopia
So that we can plant our love
on various people who are like us;
Predestined for eternity

You're my euphoria...

there might have been perhaps two other New Year's Eve
to match this years,
of these only one was actually magically youthful,
between 2004 coming to 2005 or perhaps it
was 2005 coming to the year 2006...
i was still studying at Edinburgh (Promis, Alicia),
that's when Promis lost her virginity
to me after Hogmanay, becoming irresistible...
seeing Fiona slobber me...
at the same time "drink me, eat me"...
**** drink to puncture her virginity while
Alicia was left cold, Lebanese reading that book:
The Hours... leftover in the communal room...

i didn't have any fun with these girls that time round...
what i had fun with was... my flatmate...

with Tristan from Bristol,
running around the streets breaking car side-mirrors
reenacting scenes fro Fight Club...
Bruce decided to become this middle-aged
man aged 18...
he bought a "bucket" of golf clubs...
one night we took them out...
we took out some golf clubs...
a few golf *****... and a few glasses...
we stood in the middle of the street...
pretending to... AIM... at... ha ha.. AIM...
we missed all the golf *****...
but! we managed to hit all the glasses!
it was... spectacular...
we were golfing in the proper Scottish sense
of the origin of golf...
       we had golf-clubs... we had golf-*****...
but we weren't hitting golf-***** with golf-clubs...
we were using golf-clubs... to... aim at imaginary
pint-glasses... sitting on top of...
shot-glasses... or... perhaps the reverse...

then that one terrible one circa 2003 or 2002...
going back to Poland, back then trying to romance
Katie (Kasie) - being invited to a house party...
being surrounded by teenagers hornier than me...
small-town mentality of getting hitched-early
and i was having trouble to breathe and find out
anything about whether i was already
the foreigner that still spoke his native tongue,
smoke, ****** music,
   the past part of the house party was helping with
the preparations with the host i only met that
evening...

this other New Year's Eve i was sitting alone
in my grandparent's house... alone in the kitchen...
both of my grandparents decided to go to bed early...
i watched the fireworks alone and felt
a solid stone of melancholy: a reflective sadness that
is not some reflex-depress or deflect-impress...

before today i promised myself change my habits,
how i would change everything,
quit smoking or at least cut down: i would most certainly
not smoke in the morning and on an empty stomach,
i would cut down on the heavy bourbon or whiskey
*****... why?
  heavy ***** has ****** up my digestive system a little...
irritable bowel movements and...
sometimes the inability to take a **** in one go...
rather... having in splintered...
   in sections... well... easily prone to sometimes vomiting
or rather: needing to ***** to feel at easy...
that was three days ago...

      i just wanted to stop feeling the also hightened
blood pressure...
             these "headaches" that weren't headaches but sort
of pulsations... as if my brain was dehydrated,
spinning, almost feeling death-tickling...
squeezing of the throat...
i told myself that i would stop drinking the heavy
duty liquids even if that meant i would have more sleepless
nights... well... new year's resolutions begin
two days before a new year's eve...
but the old ways have to come around for just one
last time on new year's eve and then:
with the intended plans...

    prior to the 30th... on the 29th i said to myself:
promise me this you-i, you will follow-through...
so i drank four ciders, took some generic painkillers
to ease me sleep and hey presto...
perhaps not a healthy 8 hour lapse into the Land
of Nod - but at least i woke up relaxed at 10am...
i had 5 hours spare until the shift would start
at the London Stadium...
                       i ate enough food smoked a cigarette
starting puking... right... you're not taking an cigarettes
to the shift... on my way there these
high-pressure "headaches" kicked in...
again i thought i was constipated but i had already
taken a shift before leaving...
no... these were not high-pressure "headaches"
anymore... excitement was kicking...
    i was again promoted to a supervisor: **** it...
here's me taking care of the east-wing with 15 stewards
under me...
i was excited... why? West Ham fans have the worst
reputation of all the clubs in the Premier League...
27 arrests in the season 2021/22...
i was excited... i was expecting something to happen...
i had 4 stewards on their ****** shifts...

in the middle of the match where West Ham was losing
to Brentford 2 - nil, Martin on gate 141 started gesticulating
with his hands in the middle of the second half...
i walk over... he tells me something is going on...
i look up... oh ****... about 12 guys, some of these guys
were fathers who brought their little boys along...
haggling with punches and grabbing and ferocious
tongues, children crying... a woman in the audience
starts glaring at me with hysteria and screaming
at me: do something! do something!
        calmly i turn on the radio and communicate
to Head Control: Control, this is Papa 2.3 -
i need a response team to be at gate 141 immediately!
the woman is still screaming,
the situation is escalating.... the children are even more
distraught, the blokes are more ferocious
(and the funny thing is, it's West Ham fans
fighting West Ham fans and not Brentford fans...
because the team is close to relegation
and i guess one fan knows better than another
fan about how to turn the situation can be
overturned) -
                           so as the pitch-side manager
Joe once said about contacting Head Control:
'i try getting through to them, they ignore me...'
well... i go at the radio again...
    'Control! this is Papa 2.3 - i need a response team
at gate 141 of the Billy Bonds stand! turn your cameras
onto what's happening! the situation is escalating!'
hey presto... persistence paid off...
    in about 20 seconds about 10 bouncers (SIA licensed)
rush in and break up the crowd... take some guys out,
comfort the children... i'm just happy the hysterical
woman is not looking at me eyes of scorn as if i'm
some impotent radio-holder...

the shift finishes at around 10:30pm...
   i still manage to catch the tube to Gants Hill and the 66 bus
to Romford, the petrol station near the police station
is still open so i buy three ciders...
    get home just after 12am, drink two ciders smoke two
cigarettes, take some painkillers and try to sleep...
oh ****... oh right... no chance of that happening...
i'm already sweating from alcohol withdraw...
cider can't replace bourbon or whiskey...
                   but excitement turns into post-panic control:
the situation was contained...
but that's not why i couldn't fall asleep...
i tried to... maybe i did for about 30 minutes in between
listening to Heilung's album Futha...
   i must have snoozed off for about 20 to 30 minutes
maybe less... turning side to side...
                                       but i knew that there wouldn't
be any point given i finished drinking the cider at
around 1:10am and i had to get up at 6am...
               to eat some porridge, shower, get dressed...
which i did... weird... ever see a fly casually flying
in a kitchen during December? heat makes flies crazy
during flight... in the "cold" of December (13 degrees Celsius
is cold for December... i experienced about
a week of promising,, authentic cold and snow
a week or two ago) - now this stinking damp and mediocre
cold... ate the porridge standing up contemplating
the lazy flight of the fly... so big... so juicy...
thank god it was one of those black ones and not
those green-belly that **** out dormant larva so quickly
the larva that turn to maggots so quickly...
black flies don't have that capacity...
because black flies... well... you associate black flies
with pestering cows... ergo? they feed off ****...
the blue-belly flies feed off dead meat... cat food...

6am wake up, wash, get dressed, and *******
to Putney Bridge for a 9am shift starts at Cavern Cottage:
Fulham vs. Southampton... New Year's Eve...
i have done a shift on Boxing Day last year...
double pay... but doing a Boxing Day shift is not the same
as... doing a New Year's Eve shift...
      it's like that W. H. Auden quote about
New Year's Eve:

the only way to spend New Year's Eve is
either quietly with friends or in a brothel.
otherwise when the evening ends and people pair off,
someone is bound to be left in tears.

ha! i have a third option!
    
so on my way to Putney Bridge, since the Elizabeth
Line is on strike until the 2nd of January...
****... this complicates my travel in London a little...
i can't take the simple option of taking the 103
bus to Romford Station and head to Paddington
and then a short walk from one Paddington (train)
station to the Paddington (tube) station and
like... 6 stations from Paddington to Putney Bridge
(Stamford Bridge, if you're interested?
that's at Fulham Common, or Broadway,
one of the two) - i could have complicated matters
by taking a longer walk from Hammersmith...
but i like walking through Bishop's Park...
as i was once reminded by one co-worker...
that's where Gregory Peck meets the priests
who gets killed in the film Omen...
it's a beautiful park: it's right next to the Thames...
so the route changes... i have to get the 103
bus to the A12 and then get on the 66 bus to
Newbury Park... then the central line to
Holborn, then the Piccadilly Line to Earl's
Court and then the District Line to Putney Bridge...
i truly tried all the alternatives...
e.g. central line to Oxford Circus -
Victoria line to Victoria and the district line
to Putney B.
     or... central line to Notting Hill Gate and
district line to ditto B....
     but i found that... there's too much walking
involved...
          the shortest route is the one i found out...
sure... it's a bit long changing at Holborn...
but changing at Earl's Court is the shortest...
plus Earl's Court is the interchange
between Edgware Rd, Richmond, Wimbledon,
Upminster and Ealing Broadway...
and the station is almost open air... so sickly sweet
underwear drying in the underground
during the Blitz sort of sensation association
with waiting...

                          ah... well... i managed to get in
to the sign in area for the shift early, i was probably the first,
said hello to the owner of the company,
who's name i always forget... an imposing figure...
former-military... but i still forget his name...
Scott... Scott... hello hello... i didn't shake his hand
this time round because i'm not left-handed
and i noticed he was holding a cigarette in his right...
signed in...
   ooh... the grand comedy of being early...
some perks come with that...
between Putney Green and Putney Bridge i realised
that my halting my drinking and elevation
of insomnia left me without any of those
high-blood pressure headaches... no excitement...
not this time round...
               i was cool as a cucumber...
i didn't feel any constipation... but then after signing
in... ooh... that porridge really helped...
as did that ****** chicken, sweetcorn mayo and
salad sandwich and Monster watermelon drink
did too... sign in at 9am... shift starts at 10am...
irritable bowel-movements...
    the staff toilets sub-standards... i tell someone:
if anyone asks... i'm going to the public toilets
in Bishop's Park... but there are toilets for staff?
you see the cubicles mate? cubicles without doors...
i'm not here to ****... i'm here to take a dump!

fidgety i'm walking back to Bishop's Park...
i enter the toilets... i enter the toilets... then the cubicle...
i peer in... wow! no animals were (yet) here!
the toilet seat is clean! it's left down!
there's toilet paper! there's a coat hanger!
wow! wow! am i just about to "******" as if seeing my
favourite ****-star from when i was 15?!
i take my coat off and all the elements of accreditation,
high-viz. and stadium passport...
undo my shirt a little at the collar and sleeves...
undo my zipper and clip pull down my trousers
down sit down and: PHOO! i **** out both
a gold nugget of firm shirt and a subsequent
waterfall of the looser stuff... my god...
i know that i'm supposed to find some sort of relief
in *******... this... this is better than *******...
ejaculations happen in private...
this is inverted *******: taking a **** in a public
toilet is more of a relief than ******* in private...
after all... it's pretty much the same, isn't?
i might not be looking someone in the eyes...
my member might not be in someone else's body...
but... Bishop's Park was organising their annual
run around the park for jogging enthusiasts...
i was already done when this one jogger ran
into a cubicle next to the one i was sitting in
finishing off my "taking a ****" counting time
solving a Mahjong... when i start to hear him puking...
i just took the most glorious Hiroshima ****
and here's next to me separated by a flimsy screen
that can't sort of discriminate the existence of sounds...

we waited for the shift to start for so long...
Stephanie pulled out... i saw her at West Ham and she asked me
whether i'd be with her in the Bishop's Park...
she turned in sick... so... i was back with Toni...
on the Hammersmith end of the stadium...
well... Thames-side and Hammersmith end...
i just implored her for a favour... i'm tired Toni...
can you put me on the outermost position...
last time i curated this position the weather was beautiful...
i spotted the bridge after Putney Bridge and
i thought: oh... the Kew Bridge...
what a glorious sight... but no...
the bridge that comes after Putney Bridge is
the Hammersmith Bridge... but that's when the weather
was good...
i just didn't want to work with Mark...
    citation needed: 'with my 12 years of experience
as a steward...'                      the ****-joke of the profession...
it was barely a year since i worked this job
and i was already supervising and yet he...
yeah...                               i can understand flies...
more than these busy-bodies of deluded semi-half A.I.
projects of hurt humans...
Francis Bacon paintings are grotesquely beautiful...
but this? this is reality-par-excellence...
interacting with it is: this incomplete human sort
of a joke... that can become a sly group-think of
being comfortable with a specified discomfort...

so i asked her... stand me there... next to ol' Father Thames
and let me admire that bridge i'm not sure about...
so she did...
     what i wasn't actually expecting was the weather...
i took the ******* position...
but as i soon learned... the best position...
the wind came with the rain and the rain came with
the wind...
                      there was this dog-walker with 4 dogs
with one being a terrier ADHD prone spaniel...
running rampage as if having seeing the godhead
of Anubis...
                      
          i was directing Southampton fans to the Putney
stand to avoid the Hammersmith stand...
just talking... hello, how are you, good afternoon...
smile... more smile... choke on a ******* biscuit
and a peppermint...
                   old men telling you: you're not getting paid
enough... lovely weather, oh... not as lovely as if...
it might be staged in the dark...

more about Mark with Lyndon and Toni...
pestering three women Chill (that middle-aged Turkish
woman... oh names... apples: Melanie... Nile? pears?
verbs?!) talk gets lost... on details...
joking about jumping the tide-out Thames...
i was just looking at how crows scared the seagulls...
one swan swimming alone...
metal-pickers in the mud...
                         i'm not myopic or the antagonism
of myopia... L.S. Lowry's stick-paintings...
                                 sure as **** metal-pickers...
in the mud i noticed what i first thought was a treasure
chest... turns out it was an old computer disk...
what was that even called if it wasn't a monitor?

oh and the weather truly broke me...
the rain came at an angle...
i smarted myself up by asking for a second... water resilient
jacket to put... i wasn't going to put on a flimsy potato-starch
pancho...
but that didn't stop my trousers getting soaked...
then once the rain stopped and the wind resumed:
getting dry... then once the rain came back getting soaked again...
but my socks were already soaked beyond getting dry...
walking the pavement in wet socks in leather shoes
is like... skinning an alive pig...

soaked feet.... although my upper body was kept warm...
talking with Toni about the proper attire for
winter... waterproof overalls... from Sports Direct...
and combat shoes: Magnums, used by police officers
and the army and all manner of security forces...
she asked for a cigarette, i gave her one,
she wasn't expecting a Camel... we walked...
looking each other in the eyes and subsequently
at each other's shoes...
in that instance she told me about her life...
she was living with her father and her stepmother...
how he biological mother kicked her out...
i just forgot which of her "mothers" was
the bipolar one... oh, right... her stepmother...
so i inquired about her stepmother's bipolar disorder...
so is that like manic depression?
no? split personality disorder? what's that like?
are all her personalities integrated or are they,
each to their own, loose canons?!

but there were these other two girls... Naomi...
who looked like a more pristine version of Will Smith's
wife... Jada Smith... i was... looking at Jada Smith...
with more hair... a nose piercing and a piercing
like a freckle where my moustache would cover it:
to the side... two kids... living in Richmond...
totally irresistible... this is how i always wanted
to spend my New Year's Eve... stoically...
at first in a gradation of pain...
pain from feat turning into the flayed beast
revealing nothing but bone, prone to accepting
the elements...

           this other girl... nice... cannibal looking teeth...
bound to braces... plump in the face... wearing a beany hat...
also mingling with Mark, the negate,
she touching him teasingly... once ***** was mentioned
i gave her some advice... oh... but you do know that
the only way to drink ***** is to drink it frozen, right?
so it resemble a sickly sick syrup... no ice, no mixer...
at best a chaser... she peered at me as if i belonged to
an ethnicity of a people that knew how to drink the ****
stuff... quizzical eyes... i forgot to tell her about
spending some time with the Russians:
being myself of a Slavic origin: ABSOLUT VANILLA...

i already knew it was the sort of New Year's Eve i was waiting
for when the shift was coming to a closure...
i was back in position admiring the Thames...
admiring the fading dark Green of Hammersmith Bridge
when the supporters were walking out...
one recognised me saying: so, you're been here,
all along? pretty much...
more passed and i just started spewing the casual:
have a good night, safe journey home,
and then the seemingly comical:
happy new year!

                 happy new year echo!
happy new year! happy new year!
            this precautionary tale of when Gandalf inquired of
poor Frodo: will it be?!
what? a happy new year?!
am i wishing a happy new year to you in advance
hoping, or perhaps wishing, or perhaps knowing:
that it might be... a happy new year?!
the phrase itself is about as meaningful or... meaningless
as licking a post-stamp and sticking it to
a postcard... wishing or not wishing: a "you"
to be "here"... no?!

                                   how about... happy new year
could be replaced with: MAYBE NEXT YEAR...
i.e. when i and you, are still alive...
we'll see each other again... i think that just might be
the summit of what happiness entices mortal creatures
such as ourselves to, from time to time: actually: believe!

the shift ended, i was soaked from feet down...
the trip back from Putney Bridge back to Romford was
sort of... giving CPR to octopi and walking on borrowed
legs... and less than sleepy eyes...
i got off at Gants Hill... ordered a spicy chicken burger
and three hot wings... gulped them down...
went into a Tesco Express... bought myself
a 70cl bottle of Jim Beam, a bottle of Pepsi...
3 cider bottles...
                     got home... said hello to my parents...
sorry... i'm ******* off... climbed into bed...
pretended to sleep, or rather, relaxed with naked feet
under the bed-sheets from them not being soaked...
"woke up" after about 2 fours... hours...
greeted them... sorry... i'm not into St. Sylvester's
celebration...
but i sat down with them...
as i have done for the past two or three years...

Jools Holland's Hootenanny has become sort of:
10pm ITV news in the household come this time of year...
what wouldn't i do without it...
Cat Burn's song Go... i never heard of it until then...
i ate some traditional tripe broth...
to warm the stomach up...
i hanged the bottle of Jim Beam and the bottles of cider
on the garden fence before coming home...
i was going to pick them up later...
to drink... well... at least half...
but it was so worthwhile to be so physically exhausted...
wow! these notes i wrote about that month
last year where i spent almost spent £1000 of prostitutes
and in the meantime lost two of my greatest
lovers... of 30 minutes' worth...
i.e. Khadra and Mona... who... the Madame of the brothel
told me would never return...

we watched the ******* spectacle of the fireworks...
wow! great! crowd!
i just retorted... if i were the people between
Westminster Bridge and the Embankment Bridge...
seeing the fireworks... i'd save up on t.v. memory...
i'd record the collective spectacle...
but got before the massive wheel
and stand there and stare... oh... but look...
who what or when Londoners? Chinese tourism...
the inescapable flu: chick or flex pork chop infections
but no rats and flies are the wholesome friends?!
standing there... with technology spread-out *******
third-eye non-experience...
the technology saw it first...
                                ugly humans non-humans
robots seem lovelier...
                    
                     that's how i learned about Cat Burn's song Go
thinking: didn't Ed Sheeran write this?!
doesn't matter...
once this supposedly spectacular night ended
when i heated up my feet and regained some flesh
in them...
                  i started drinking with my usual standard
of toxicity... looking through old notes...
ooh! an unfinished joint! wow! i had a premonition!
i will not want to go to a brothel i will not want
to go to a depressing house-party...
i will want to go inward...
into myself and starve anything already established...
i think i must have met about 3 girlfriends
tonight... possible...

now i'll finish a bottle of 70cl of bourbon by myself
while writing and smoke that joint...
finally! a new diet of music!

and the odl rekindling of an alliance....
perhaps placing conkers might put off spiders
from aligning a household with a disapproval for housing
spiders... but flies... that's a different matter;
i'm going to smoke this joint
and dream my hazardous of this years first and last
breaths.

where is that ******* fly...
i hope it's still alive while i'm alive... if i swallow it in
the night... i'll pretend to be a Pontus Pilate...

no other New Year's Eve has been so benevolent to me...
i was fudge packed between commuters not trying to
entertain the fireworks on the Thames...
me? go home...
       tired old young man....
                         why are there suspicions of me:
by simply being punctual as having any sort of association
with any nation's army?!
i like sunsets... i like sunrises... i adore the aloofness
of the aloneness that's: otherwise missing
in the claustrophobia of interaction with the other...
WOJSKO...
                        
            this has certainly been the best New Year's Eve
to meet all others...
before me stand's King Lear and Lot's Wife...
i wonder... who is... the Pillar of Sugar?!
Sugar = Salt + Water... no?!
so who is... the pillar of Sugar?!

   ah... ha: hermeneutics contra etymology!
          there's only one history for me...
   that being etymology: the origin of words from words:
to use words is not to use anything beyond words themselves...
which excludes my original assumptions that
letters or geometric shapes akin to letters or vice versa
could ever be utilised...
verba ex verba - non verba ex figura, numerus vel littera:
verba ex et enim verba!
meaning for meaning...
not meaning borrowed from either the associated
or dissociation...
or dissociation and a(n) association...

   well... it just so happens that i have... something of a...
half-wit... canvas of artificial-intelligence
to work with... it's basic intelligence...
                           just what i need.

Can I call you?
At 2 am I can only talk for an hour...
Cause at 3 am,
They say it's the demons hour...
And boo I don't wanna turn on you
And go off on you,
Forgive me if I do it to you,
Your not the struggle that I've been through....

So lil baby can I ask you this?
Can I not be a love that your gonna ignore and miss?
Can you not carry the traits of these fuckboys I've been dismissed....
I didn't curve you,
When I probably could've..  
I didn't curve you,
Don't make me feel like I should've....

Can you call me ?
Make love to me with your voice,
Sing to me ,
Like Boys ll Men or
Dru Hill,
Back in the 90s?

Can you feel me ?
A chemistry similar like Jada & Will,
but imma need us to curve mfs,
and be ready to ****...
Those who hurt us....

Can you be for me ?
Like a baby without its binky?
Can you be the one to cry for me baby?
But man up because I'm the lady?


Can you love me for life?
I'm not trynna rush anything,
I just be thinking of things....
Your love could be the best thing...
Can you be for me?

I don't wanna have anymore games...
Not another chess piece....
Not another missing puzzle piece....

Maybe what I'm trynna say is...
Darling can you really love me ?

Sabke zindagi ki kuch aesi kahaniyaan hoti h jo logo s chupi hoti h
Jo bsh kuch anjaana sa hota h
Tik wese hi yh kahani h
Isha ki

Logo ka manna tha wo kathor dil wali amir ghamandi ladki h
Pr log kya jaane wo amir ** k v akeli h
Logo ko kya pta ki wo v bsh kuch waqt pehle khudh s mili h
Mohobbat tutne s jada dard apno k ruthne ya bharosha tutne pr hota h
Wo to ek maasum si thi
Ushe to pta hi nhi tha ki wo kabhi esh Isha s milegi jo ki kathor patthar ki trh sakt h
Pr jis waqt ushe fareb, dokha or bewafaae k dard ka ehesash hua
Uski sachchae s jo wo wakif hue to usne apni masumiyat ko khudh k saamne mrta paya
Usne uske dil ko gilli mitti s kathor patthar bnta paya
Usne apne bharoshe pe bharosha kr sb kuch tutta - bikhrta paya
Ush din apne ko hi nhi apno ko v khudh s dur jata paya
Or ush waqt khudh k maut pr khudh ko rota paya
Or fir bn k tayyar hue kathor patthar
Jisko puri trh smjhna aaj v aashan ** na paya

The beauty ranges from your eyes,
To your lips, to your thighs, to your legs,
To the color of your skin. When I look at you I see many things not just one thing.
We have had friendship, companionship, marriage.
We had ups and downs,
Smiles and frowns,
Sweat and tears,
Losing you was never easy,
But loving you meant I had to let you go,
My love for goes beyond what I can show,
It wasn't the easiest love,
But it was our love.

All the women never meant anything to me,
You meant everything to me,
I cared, loved and adored you,
I only gave them pleasure,
I gave you something irreplaceable, my heart.
Things could've turned out better,
But I don't regret nothing,
It was all done the way it needed to be done.

No rings on our fingers but we're forever bonded,
Papers or no papers still be my only wife,
My heart will forever reign in your heart,
Moving on doesn't mean you're see forgotten,
Just means I care enough to save our hearts,
The pain has gotten the best of us,
No need to cause each other anymore pain,
Love you enough to let you be happy without me.

Wo dur h mujse,
Baate jada ** nhi pati,
Ishq h ye humara,
Tabhi intezaar me raat kat nhi pati,

I WANNA BE LIKE WILL AND JADA
LIKE RUSSLE AND CIARA
I WANNA BE LIKE BEY AND JAY
HAHAHA OR MAYBE LIKE THE GREAT MICHELLE AND BARAK OBAMA
THE ONLY THING THATS DIFFERENT IS
I WANNA BE HAPPY WITHOUT YOU!

SEE, WE WERE A TEAM THAT COULDNT BE BEAT
MORESO A FORCE NONE COULD COMPETE
TRY TO FACE JUDGMENT OF LOSING SOEMTHING DEAR
TRY TO FACE REALITY OF STANDING FACE TO FACE WITH YOUR BIGGEST FEAR
HOW DO I GET RID OF MEMORIES BUT STILL BE ABLE TO HOLD ONTO THE MEMORIES
WITHOUT HURTING OR HAVING PAIN?
HOW DO I SMILE AT WHAT WAS BUT NOT ENDURE THE PAIN OF WHAT IS?
I JUST WANNA BE HAPPY WITHOUT YOU!

I WANTED TO LIVE OUT OUR DREAMS
WE WANTED TO MAKE OUR FANTASIES OUR REALITIES
NOW I HAVE TO MOPE IN THE AGONY OF NOT HAVING YOU
BUT CAN I STILL HOLD YOU LIKE YOU WANT?
HOLD YOU LIKE A FRIEND
HOLD YOU LIKE THE DAY WILL NEVER END
HOLD YOU UNTIL DAY TURNS TO NIGHT
AND UNTIL NIGHT TURNS INTO ANOTHER MORNING WHERE WE SMILE AT EACH OTHER?
I JUST WANNA BE HAPPY WITHOUT YOU!

DAYS TURN INTO WEEKS
WEEKS INTO MONTHS
MONTHS INTO YEARS
DAM, AND ALL THIS WAS OVER STANDING FACE TO FACE WITH ONE OF MY BIGGEST FEARS?
LOSING YOU
THE ONE I LOVED AND ADORED
THE ONE I ADMIRED AND SO MUCH MORE
THE ONE THAT INSPIRED ME TO KEEP PUSHING EVEN IF ITS A CLEAR DISTANCE
THE ONE THAT PUSHED ME WHEN I COULDNT PUSH MYSELF
I JUST WANNA BE HAPPY WITHOUT YOU!

UNTIL THEN-
UNTIL MY NIGHT TURNS TO MORNING
UNTIL MY DAY BECOMES CLEAR
UNTIL MY DREAMS BECOME MY REALITY
UNTIL MY FEARS WITHER AWAY
ILL BE LOOKING HOW TO FIND MY HAPPINESS
NOT WITHIN MYSELF BUT JUST HAPPY WITHOUT YOU!

The beauty and the struggle in loving,
It’s really something,
I love, loving.

The affection, the passion, the slight imperfections of the affections I hold dear in my heart,
It’s something authentic,
There was a time when Jada and Will was the aesthetic….
But now I want nothing that resembles them,
I want my own fairy tale a little like the ones on the movie screens, and the book shelves,
One that shares the true beauty of love,
And the beauty of struggle,
The combination of both of them, that makes relationships real,

Now a days I don’t see the balance,
There’s more love, less struggle, or the complete opposite,
All over media, there’s either this perfect picture couple,
Or a toxic situationship
There’s nothing passionate, affectionate, or authentic about it,
This new age is all about “no labels” and throwing in the towel over the little stuff,
Letting the struggle consume the love, over the little things, with arguing, and blocking, and posting subs,
And It ***** because,
there’s truly a beauty in the struggle of loving,
It’s really something,
I love loving.

We could’ve  of been something
We could’ve  of been better then this
We could’ve  of been together like
Will and Jada
Or jay and queen B
We could’ve  of been a team
Me and u
Jordan and Kobe
We could of overcome and show the pple
She wishes she didn’t care so much
I just close my eyes and take a deep breath
With my head in my hands
Saying
I wish we could’ve  be forever

i don't know why this conclusion hasn't arrived...
two outlets: prostitution and cooking...

there i was sitting for a whole day
paralysed by: something's "wrong"
   trying to see how far i could shove my head
up my *** to spot an ostrich...

before?
       amongst other things...
       online publishing?
              bit of a farce, isn't it, considering
the principal of ©...
    namely that, of all html outlets of
self- or otherwise publications,
  wattpad and only wattpad has
    an actual copr. in the code...
namely the inability to ctrl c through
to ctrl p...
        one ******* website!
       among the giants of publishing
which... apparently do not have any,
                        any! copr.!
so much for any prestige being gained
having words printed under:
vanity fair, e.g.

but then i started thinking about dinner,
for a while,
   ****** off 3 times to fine art (Bronzino)
and jada stevens and abella danger and
that's your pop culture, right there...

before thinking about what to cook...
****... haven't cooked a risotto for a while,
i remember my uni. flatmate used
to cook that **** all the time...

    oddly enough i even bought non-alcoholic
wine because i liked its pale colour...

and... some rachmaninoff on the radio...
gently adding the ingredients,
cooking from a butter rather than
olive oil base...
       sometimes simply frying,
but then suffocating the meat under
the lid to add tenderness...
       wondering about the amount of
scrubbed nutmeg...
   the double cream just at the end
or before the chicken broth to allow
the rice to slurp the moisture in?

after...

                  1 hour's worth of cooking
is probably worth 20 hours' worth
talking to a psychiatrist,
       or at least half an hour with a *******...
maybe even less...

     but i'll give it half an hour
considering that's how the "lowest of
the low" sometimes tend to charge...
  like it was ever about stamina,
or looks, or: yeah, sure,
   i really wish i was *******
the *****-types...

                        but an hour's worth of
cooking is probably worth 20+ hours'
worth of talking to a psychiatrist...
         chestnut mushrooms,
pork, just a hint of bacon,
                      definitely parsley rather than
basil...
   autumn theme: basil wouldn't
get past this mixture...

                    if they say that music
sooths even the savage beast,
                   n'ah...
                                cooking...
music these days can actually
    excites the cultivated man and makes
him... a meathead...
   so yeah...
                         you have the ratios.

Jargon gets muddled, to mouth is to fumble, to ***** is to muggle.
Snitching means trouble, bragging meets knuckle, ego gets nuzzled.
Ten hut that’s a huddle, life is a struggle, especially for those that stay suckled.
Like Malcolm in the middle, might just go unstable,
So, best not pop my bubble!
Got to stay on your toes like Barney Rubble,
Can’t ever stay idle in the jungle!
Where desperados need the narcan,
Overdosing daily, organs go to the black market, **** what a bargain.
Indulge in the bourbon, might just light up a Cuban, if I die it’s outta my hands.
Welcome to the land of the ******,
Where no one has a long lifespan.
So, get sloushed; do a keg stand.
Yeah, yeah.
Gotta party up, it’s weekend.
Yeah, yeah.
Not much else to do when you’re drowning in the deep end.
Yeah, yeah.
Our worlds on fire, that’s for sure.
Guess smash mouth was right,
Everyone’s a victim, everyone’s poor.

Hey now you’re a rap star,
Keep the show going,
Get laid.
Hey now you’re a rap star.
Keep the drugs and ***** flowing.
Get paid.
And all that clout is gold.
Only popping pills breaks the mold.

Don’t get it twisted or entangled,
Name might be on a banner,
But it certainly ain’t star spangled.
Fame is a curse filled with idle chatter.
That’s slaps harder than a Will Smith scandal.
Where money is more vain than Jada.
Gee I don’t know Jane,
Perhaps we should be more like Greta.
Taking names like Andrew, is that dude even humane?
Narcissists are insane, especially those that believe they’re Alfa and Omega.
Get too full of yourself, might just end up worse than Ye.
Pride comes before the fall, man you should’ve known better.
Our worlds on fire, that’s for sure.
Guess smash mouth was right,
Everyone’s a victim, everyone’s poor.

Hey now you’re a rap star,
Keep the show going,
Get laid.
Hey now you’re a rap star.
Keep the drugs and ***** flowing.
Get paid.
And all that clout is gold.
Only popping pills breaks the mold.

When Mom found my antidepressants, she said  

in times like these, you need to call on Jesus,  

not a bottle of pills.  

So Ring Ring


Are you there God?

It's me Jada

Ring Ring  



"You've reached the voicemail of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Please leave a message at the beep."  



Father, I'm sorry to bother you, but you must have dropped the whole world from your hands because I feel it weighing down upon my shoulders pinning me down until I can no longer even hope that one day I will be able to move again.  

Are you there God?  

I don't see a single pair of footsteps in the sand, just the heavy tracks only a crawl could make.

You said you would be with me always, but I feel like I'm the only soul for light years, minus the light. Are you there God?

Wilderness has surrounded me for more than forty days and forty nights.  

I know you don't make mistakes, but this can't be right

I am a prisoner in my own body.  

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know you meant it as a gift.  

Are you there God?  

I find myself wishing for home even when I'm safely tucked away in my bed.

Are you there God?  

Will you take me back?