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"kundera" poems
items title - author - (read / unread) songs of war and peace - afghan women's poetry                                               edited by sayd bahodine majrouh                                               (yes) the cantos of ezra pound                                               ezra pound                                               (pending) the unbearable lightness of being                                                      milan kundera                                                (yes, albeit                                                 given to someone) the man in the high castle                                                 philip k. ****                                                 (yes, "                                                           " " ") do androids dream of electric sheep                                                                                       " men without women                                                  ernest hemingway                                                  (yes) a moveable feast                                                   ernest         "                                                   (yes) for whom the bell tolls                                                   ernest          "                                                   (partially, university                                                    assignment) a passage to india                                                    e. m. forster                                                    (no, i prefer the actual cuisine,                                                     dash of cinnamon, cumin                                                     cloves, cardamon and i just                                                     read: a short-cut to india) the outsider                                                     albert camus                                                     (yes, lost the book somewhere) frankenstein                                                     mary shelley                                                     (yes) aesop's fables                                                      aesop                                                      (yes, good enough                                                       for zeno to                                                       paradox achilles                                                       with the turtle, i.e.                                                       aesop's fables                                                       were primarily based                                                       on the behaviour of animals) dr. jeckyl & mr. hyde                                                       r. l. stevenson                                                       (no, a literary                                                        version of the beatles'                                                        yesterday, conjuring                                                        for money anyway) iron in the soul                                                         jean-paul sartre                                                         (the other two titles                                                          of the human comedy                                                          i don't remember;                                                          i have all respect for                                                          sartre the novelist -                                                          but none as a philosopher) treasure island                                                           r. l. stevenson                                                           (yes) i'm the king of the castle                                                           susan hill                                                           (yes) jane eyre                                                            charlotte brontë                                                            (yes) on the road                                                            jack kerouac                                                            (yes) the bell jar                                                            sylvia plath                                                            (yes) fiesta: the sun also rises ernest hemingway (yes) the ordeal of gilbert pinfold evelyn waugh (yes) five plays chekov (stuck to shakespeare and russian existential macabre) the existential imagination edited by frederick r. karl & leo hamalian (yes, esp. the extract about socrates)
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Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
the index of a personal library
items title - author - (read / unread) songs of war and peace - afghan women's poetry                                               edited by sayd bahodine majrouh                                               (yes) the cantos of ezra pound                                               ezra pound                                               (pending) the unbearable lightness of being                                                      milan kundera                                                (yes, albeit                                                 given to someone) the man in the high castle                                                 philip k. ****                                                 (yes, "                                                           " " ") do androids dream of electric sheep                                                                                       " men without women                                                  ernest hemingway                                                  (yes) a moveable feast                                                   ernest         "                                                   (yes) for whom the bell tolls                                                   ernest          "                                                   (partially, university                                                    assignment) a passage to india                                                    e. m. forster                                                    (no, i prefer the actual cuisine,                                                     dash of cinnamon, cumin                                                     cloves, cardamon and i just                                                     read: a short-cut to india) the outsider                                                     albert camus                                                     (yes, lost the book somewhere) frankenstein                                                     mary shelley                                                     (yes) aesop's fables                                                      aesop                                                      (yes, good enough                                                       for zeno to                                                       paradox achilles                                                       with the turtle, i.e.                                                       aesop's fables                                                       were primarily based                                                       on the behaviour of animals) dr. jeckyl & mr. hyde                                                       r. l. stevenson                                                       (no, a literary                                                        version of the beatles'                                                        yesterday, conjuring                                                        for money anyway) iron in the soul                                                         jean-paul sartre                                                         (the other two titles                                                          of the human comedy                                                          i don't remember;                                                          i have all respect for                                                          sartre the novelist -                                                          but none as a philosopher) treasure island                                                           r. l. stevenson                                                           (yes) i'm the king of the castle                                                           susan hill                                                           (yes) jane eyre                                                            charlotte brontë                                                            (yes) on the road                                                            jack kerouac                                                            (yes) the bell jar                                                            sylvia plath                                                            (yes) fiesta: the sun also rises ernest hemingway (yes) the ordeal of gilbert pinfold evelyn waugh (yes) five plays chekov (stuck to shakespeare and russian existential macabre) the existential imagination edited by frederick r. karl & leo hamalian (yes, esp. the extract about socrates)
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100
found in Styron's darkness visible... he survived auschwitz... but said adieu to life: by throwing himself down a flight of stairs. millennial, generation y, huh?!     also called the: bearable heaviness of non-being...    say: survivors of auschwitz, and apart from Kundera, i'm fudged into this stealth-culprit      hangover...    and when i speak the native tongue i use double emphasis... everything suddenly becomes italic...     gówno... or **** teutonic: gavron, ja, ich habbe schtabbe ga ga, magpie on               a licky-sticky schtaisse: vroom bog-tie boom boom...    everntually language is just that:    magnifique sounds, mein herr,     be that a cello i hear?                       nada... mindlessly i too   feigned a farting brigadier, farting into        a brass horn: worth a gingerbread / pumpernickle        marching rhythm. yes, double emphasis in the native... kosz (koš)... bin...     trza błagać... błagać!         o śmierć... beg for death...              but hetman cossak said smerc... and it sounded altogether better.    a household argument,    after prawn-pasta was cooked throughout an afternoon of general bewilderment:         a heap of pebbles makes more sense than the Orion constelation...               given the mathematical approach to the situation, and subsequent mapping...    because they really did drop a bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki...                 and that's why 21st creativity is trapped in a hamster's routine...     karaoke is standard...                          this insissting plagiaristic zeitgeist! so i said: you really think you conquered yapan?            jesus, je suis, zeus, yesus, jamaican                               jah jah *** buck...       rasta root mon, rasta root.     battered and bruised...                someohow this whole dating scene passed me by...                      and what happened to me aged 21... is strangely becoming the norm                        of giving the circumstance:   i can't remember being of any age, particular.   the quicker argument would coincide with:     give me a machinegun, and march me into a Latvian forest...                    because, right now, it's a scenario of being coerced into donning a leash    or more like a leech,                          and an afternoon spent pulverised by a pneumatic tsunami                      of adverts... calling it a job done, with a siberian brew: cow juice in                        tea...                      liquid werther's original.
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Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 7:32 PM UTC
liquid werther's original
found in Styron's darkness visible... he survived auschwitz... but said adieu to life: by throwing himself down a flight of stairs. millennial, generation y, huh?!     also called the: bearable heaviness of non-being...    say: survivors of auschwitz, and apart from Kundera, i'm fudged into this stealth-culprit      hangover...    and when i speak the native tongue i use double emphasis... everything suddenly becomes italic...     gówno... or **** teutonic: gavron, ja, ich habbe schtabbe ga ga, magpie on               a licky-sticky schtaisse: vroom bog-tie boom boom...    everntually language is just that:    magnifique sounds, mein herr,     be that a cello i hear?                       nada... mindlessly i too   feigned a farting brigadier, farting into        a brass horn: worth a gingerbread / pumpernickle        marching rhythm. yes, double emphasis in the native... kosz (koš)... bin...     trza błagać... błagać!         o śmierć... beg for death...              but hetman cossak said smerc... and it sounded altogether better.    a household argument,    after prawn-pasta was cooked throughout an afternoon of general bewilderment:         a heap of pebbles makes more sense than the Orion constelation...               given the mathematical approach to the situation, and subsequent mapping...    because they really did drop a bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki...                 and that's why 21st creativity is trapped in a hamster's routine...     karaoke is standard...                          this insissting plagiaristic zeitgeist! so i said: you really think you conquered yapan?            jesus, je suis, zeus, yesus, jamaican                               jah jah *** buck...       rasta root mon, rasta root.     battered and bruised...                someohow this whole dating scene passed me by...                      and what happened to me aged 21... is strangely becoming the norm                        of giving the circumstance:   i can't remember being of any age, particular.   the quicker argument would coincide with:     give me a machinegun, and march me into a Latvian forest...                    because, right now, it's a scenario of being coerced into donning a leash    or more like a leech,                          and an afternoon spent pulverised by a pneumatic tsunami                      of adverts... calling it a job done, with a siberian brew: cow juice in                        tea...                      liquid werther's original.
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64
"Order destroys the beauty of creation" Beauty? as opposed to what? ****** revenge and law, of course." The Synchronized dancers please your mind and eventually,bind your thoughts to protect. Jack, still in the box. Hedonism hurts, don't you know? Mr. Kundera told me so. Where will your hunt for comfort end? It'll burn, or be buried, or be fed to the vultures, that swarm above, waiting for humanity, to share their love. Yet, for comfort, I thrive. Run in circles and play the game, run, run around the flame. Look above at him, the guide. Alas, he's here too, running beside. If you break this cycle, all order shall end. The world will chain you for the rules you bend. But there is hope, beyond land and sea. Beyond the women singing with glee, beyond the lovers caught in embrace, beyond the holy men praying with grace. There is hope in the ancient lands, in the green forests and the untouched sands. Spit out the apple, be born again, into the womb of silence. And stay.
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Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
Hope.
i found that modern people lie too much, because the preceding acts of investigation where treated as vanity, and indeed they are, compared to the contemporaries' acts of lying as brimful, the res plenus, the thing brimming with itself, no chance of an extinction of a self into creating something and disappearing, but rather the modern concern for pop music artists, creating nothing and constantly reappearing... not encapsulating the need for emptiness, but the drive to need an icon... a self-detachment worth a thermometer or a telescope, or a theory of relativity... they cite einstein alright, but einstein is just a headline to attract the eyes, rather than the article to attract the eyes... too few blind men exist to make the judgemental balance of the two accurate. i'm walking with a glass of whiskey with icecubes' jingling like skulls on a cannibal's necklace, and it's necessary to say: boy's reading milan kundera's the unbearable lightness of being boy leaves girl reading milan's *testament betrayed*, girl is too devastated by familial ties, boy meets the girl's grandmother who she denotes as her mother, boy eats dinner with the girl's mother who the girl denotes as sister... girl speaks of being abducted when younger... boy has no knowledge of psychiatric evaluation... enforces boy to wed her, taking contraceptive pills but faking taking them - it's the ideal: i'll **** you to orphan **** a society into benefits - odd, because with prostitutes i pulled out and ********** silently into a ****** after all, prostitutes don't want to be pregnant. she still persisted telling the boy: you just finished a degree of education, you have no safe career path... let's start a family, you say no, i'll ******* **** you... rubber rubber rubbing the same tree-hug later it's a laughing matter... as testified by my constant rubber sheath use of ****** **** me without one, her words, not mine: brown-nosing feminists of the **** & ***** already politicising the matter in favour of one night stands; i told you idiots before... cats are cheaper... i'd be jealous had you two phalluses to insert into both ***** and ****
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 6:15 PM UTC
cannibal's necklace
i found that modern people lie too much, because the preceding acts of investigation where treated as vanity, and indeed they are, compared to the contemporaries' acts of lying as brimful, the res plenus, the thing brimming with itself, no chance of an extinction of a self into creating something and disappearing, but rather the modern concern for pop music artists, creating nothing and constantly reappearing... not encapsulating the need for emptiness, but the drive to need an icon... a self-detachment worth a thermometer or a telescope, or a theory of relativity... they cite einstein alright, but einstein is just a headline to attract the eyes, rather than the article to attract the eyes... too few blind men exist to make the judgemental balance of the two accurate. i'm walking with a glass of whiskey with icecubes' jingling like skulls on a cannibal's necklace, and it's necessary to say: boy's reading milan kundera's the unbearable lightness of being boy leaves girl reading milan's *testament betrayed*, girl is too devastated by familial ties, boy meets the girl's grandmother who she denotes as her mother, boy eats dinner with the girl's mother who the girl denotes as sister... girl speaks of being abducted when younger... boy has no knowledge of psychiatric evaluation... enforces boy to wed her, taking contraceptive pills but faking taking them - it's the ideal: i'll **** you to orphan **** a society into benefits - odd, because with prostitutes i pulled out and ********** silently into a ****** after all, prostitutes don't want to be pregnant. she still persisted telling the boy: you just finished a degree of education, you have no safe career path... let's start a family, you say no, i'll ******* **** you... rubber rubber rubbing the same tree-hug later it's a laughing matter... as testified by my constant rubber sheath use of ****** **** me without one, her words, not mine: brown-nosing feminists of the **** & ***** already politicising the matter in favour of one night stands; i told you idiots before... cats are cheaper... i'd be jealous had you two phalluses to insert into both ***** and ****
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35
it's a story of girl meets boy, who's reading milan kundera's the unbearable lightness of being, girl falls in love, boy laments this falling in love with a wish to be dead, girl ***** the boy's high-school friend and asks the friend to **** the boy in a cunning and sophisticated way, the ****** fails, boy lives on, picks up a girl in a park drinking beer, seduces her for a **** when she forgets miles davis' kind of blue, and listening to michael greilsammer's הוריי שלי (https://goo.gl/DZlekQ) gives sway, they **** celibacy of the boy abolished, more fingers on the hand than ***** for 8 years counting, walking home in the cold night the girl from the park drowns in the boy's jacket, in terms of fraction three fifths his size; concerning title? i don't know where to cut-in or cut-off from he (heh), shin (sheen), or any other hebrew letter is, for if in the case of vav (ו) the breath is in ***** of the sound where is the incision for a phonetic unit of speech to begin or end, akin to greek alpha and omega, so too with the hebrew examples ש (shin, not s) and ל (lamed, el or la ahmed)? i.e. you say omega, but only utter o, you say alpha but only utter a, beta but on b etc. so when giving nouns to units of sounds, expanding a into alpha aleph, d into delta daleth, b into beta and beth... how then uncouple the unit of sound from the noun and couple it into a word that deviates from noun? we can sit all day musing this... the existential philosophers philosophising with the syllables ego... and i with snoring snorkelling (zzz)... if ever the serpent slept (sss sizing up a psst) for man awake then the serpent endeavours his chance to sleep, brought on by digestion.
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
הוריי שלי (hvryy sh'ly)
it's a story of girl meets boy, who's reading milan kundera's the unbearable lightness of being, girl falls in love, boy laments this falling in love with a wish to be dead, girl ***** the boy's high-school friend and asks the friend to **** the boy in a cunning and sophisticated way, the ****** fails, boy lives on, picks up a girl in a park drinking beer, seduces her for a **** when she forgets miles davis' kind of blue, and listening to michael greilsammer's הוריי שלי (https://goo.gl/DZlekQ) gives sway, they **** celibacy of the boy abolished, more fingers on the hand than ***** for 8 years counting, walking home in the cold night the girl from the park drowns in the boy's jacket, in terms of fraction three fifths his size; concerning title? i don't know where to cut-in or cut-off from he (heh), shin (sheen), or any other hebrew letter is, for if in the case of vav (ו) the breath is in ***** of the sound where is the incision for a phonetic unit of speech to begin or end, akin to greek alpha and omega, so too with the hebrew examples ש (shin, not s) and ל (lamed, el or la ahmed)? i.e. you say omega, but only utter o, you say alpha but only utter a, beta but on b etc. so when giving nouns to units of sounds, expanding a into alpha aleph, d into delta daleth, b into beta and beth... how then uncouple the unit of sound from the noun and couple it into a word that deviates from noun? we can sit all day musing this... the existential philosophers philosophising with the syllables ego... and i with snoring snorkelling (zzz)... if ever the serpent slept (sss sizing up a psst) for man awake then the serpent endeavours his chance to sleep, brought on by digestion.
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47
lekki, and thus said leki... former: slightly. and latter: medicine.... medicine: or pills... that's half a summary of leftovers... strutting toward a hamstrung plagiarism worths' worth of kindergarten blah blah... if ever the case was ever the rheumatic catchphrase or said: gyroid stubble... the five o'clock tanning... yep, lekki meaning a slightness, meaning a gargantuan woo... a slightness, and that's half of ascribed Loci... leki means medicine, a plural circumstance... letki meaning paper-weight... lekki hark and stutter... Loci... or lost jarring toward insinuated lightness, as said: personified lightness, unbearable to the suitor Kundera. oh the stutter.
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Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
lekki vs. leki
[For this title, allow me to borrow from Kundera, “Life is elsewhere” for many, here] I have an app that shares latest news All stories are about the numbers Number of terrorists killed by Military Number of bombs hurled by Terrorists All fighting from life elsewhere and for life elsewhere Military that came from elsewhere countries Terrorists that came from elsewhere countries They together made 'life elsewhere', for the locals For the 4-year-old little girl World is her 2-bedroom apartment And views from the small peephole windows She cannot stand in the balcony For rockets launched by Terrorists aims only destruction She cannot go down to the play ground For Military encounters in streets do not sight a 4-year-old Life must be elsewhere for her In time and space, alike A large number that surrendered Many who came from faraway lands Men and women came as men and women Some turned slaves and some families With kids borne in nowhere lands They all came hoping for the life elsewhere Now their hopes dashed, they will again wait For life elsewhere, if not in jails Hope is in the air, Some say it is the best moment for peace Let there be peace for life here and elsewhere
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Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 4:30 AM UTC
“Life is elsewhere” for many, here...