Our Backgrounds before we met...

I'm an only child born in Montana in 1983, from a divided home. Parents divorced at seven, Mom was unstable and unfaithful. Dad obtained custody of me and we moved to Oregon Coast to live with my Grandma. I had unhealthy visits and relationship with Mom thereafter. My Grandma died at 12 and at 13 my Dad remarried an alcoholic woman, I had a strained relationship with them until adulthood when she stopped drinking. I had exposure to trauma; alcoholism, mental illness, verbal abuse and juvenile troubles. I rebelled by using drugs in my late teens and early twenties, I lived on my own for a few years after high school but had little direction.

My bride is the eldest with two little brothers, parents stayed in same area of Portland during childhood with lots of family support and her parents stayed married. They had Christian values but some anger and anxiety issues at home. She was sexually assaulted at 17 and never had good closure with this. She told me her parents didn't provide her enough help with things like this growing up. Status quo was the backbone of the family dynamic, challenging emotions were discouraged. She rebelled by being reckless with herself, financially and sexually. She decided to join the Navy at 19. She lived alone briefly, but mostly with Grandparents & Parents before our marriage.

I loved how we both grew up reading Archie comics. No other girl I had ever met had that in common with me. I think we wanted a surreal life like the one in Riverdale.

2002

She and I were 19 when we first met in my home town on the coast at an arcade. We became friends and secretly liked each other. I was too nervous to ever make a move on her. We traveled together, she stayed with me, we used drugs together and drank at times. One night she drank too much and had *** with a guy I knew at a party. I was devastated by this. She was Navy bound and I didn't see a real future for us. The next morning she left and I didn't talk to her again for two years. I figured she would be gone with the Navy soon and that she must not have been interested in a relationship with me despite the time we spent together.

2003

I was depressed about this rejection. I dated an older woman who was interested in me but was no substitute. I eventually moved to the Portland area to work and live. I still had few plans and was lonely, in or out of the few brief relationships I attempted. I never found someone that I felt safe with or had a true connection, let alone true love. She ended up not following through with the Navy and continued working her way up in her job at the call center. She attended community college and dated a few guys. She dated one guy for a couple of years who was not a good match for her but stayed with him off and on despite issues. His family was wealthy and treated her well. He slept around on her as did she. At one point he gave her an STD. She also had an ongoing affair with a married man in the military that she went to high school with. He had a child and a wife with mental health issues. She was still hurting a lot at times and not always doing well.

2004

She reached out to me via email after two years of no contact. We emailed back and forth a couple times over the next few months. We talked about meeting up. We spoke on the phone and eventually met up in Portland. We had an amazing night getting to know each other again and work past the confusion of our earlier days of friendship. I realized that she did in fact like me before but since I was timid and trying to be proper and take things slowly she didn't understand my motives. She apologized for her actions at the party as well. She claimed she was in a really messed up place and was making bad choices at that time. Getting our feelings out in the open was good and she appreciated my attitude towards being slow to make moves on her when we first met. I was worried about falling for her based on our history but eventually I was determined to give it a shot. We soon after starting dating and being intimate. Our love was extremely powerful and beyond all others we had both experienced. She broke ties with other suitors and shortly after we talked about marriage and started planning a wedding for the next year.

I remember when we first held hands. We were so shakey and she was quivering on my couch as I had my arm around her. We felt so safe with each other. We could finally be ourselves and do what our hearts desired. We knew we were on to something new and so amazing. We were so patient with each other as we navigated our new love and emotional thresholds.

I remember when we saw Matisyahu in concert together. That was a once in a lifetime experience and a life-changing moment for us. I feel it set the tone for things to come in our future.

I remember how creative my proposal to her was, in the Arcade where we first met. I hid the ring in a prize container from one of those claw machines. Pretending I got the ring from inside by reaching into the machine on one knee I was so nervous and wasn't sure if I could pull it off before she caught on. She looked so shocked and surprised. I was so excited she said yes! We took pictures in the photo machine and had burgers afterwards, I'd do all of it all over again just to see her face in that moment.

2005

We found an apartment for us in Portland. I moved in while she was still living back with her parents until the wedding. She had to change her number because the married man she was previously involved with kept calling her about changing her mind about marriage and continuing their relationship. She was offered a job in Denver and we decided to move away together after our sandy wedding in Cannon Beach. I still had a very hard time and was embarrassed with my past history with her. Many of my friends knew what had happened at 19 and how much it hurt me but I was so crazy about her I think I tried to pretend it didn't happen or that it was not a big deal because we were younger. We got married and moved to Colorado soon after. We made friends at a church, I became more active as a Christian and really loved being married. We were very involved in keeping spirituality in our marriage. I began to notice her poor financial decisions and practices more. This caused conflict but we always tried to communicate and work on things.

I remember when we went down to my folks for New Year's in 2005. We sipped tea in my Datsun as we drove to the coast over the snowy mountain pass. We told them of our engagement. We were all so blissful and excited. We never knew what was to come. We didn't even know about the opportunity in Denver yet. Our story is amazing!

I remember when I wanted to go see her in Portland and the roads were iced over. I left my car at a park and ride before I caused a wreck. I took the light rail across town then rode a bus to the Eastside shopping mall. The bus to her house was not running because it wasn't safe so I walked the rest of the 4 Miles sometimes having to crawl on my hands and knees to make it up hills in the ice and then I finally made it only to just spend a couple hours with her and fall asleep on her parents couch. Her Dad drove us back the next morning to my car so I could get to work. It was all worth it just to see her for that little extra time. I would have done anything for her.

I remember when she was interviewing for the new position in Denver? I drove all over Portland trying to find little toy cars to help with her illustration about how a team is like a car having all four wheels and how they work together to accomplish a goal. I was so proud of her for giving it her all and succeeding at earning that position. Now that I think of it, that car analogy applies to our family and us. We all need each other to be better and keep on track and be a team. I am so motivated by that and our boys. I lose my way without that and I want to be her reflection and motivation as she has been that for me. I truly thought we brought out the best in each other when we were together.

I remember when we were given tickets to see Fiona Apple. That was so spontaneous and a great way to kick off our time in Denver together. We always used to watch our same movies over and over again. Like the Friends DVDs and White Christmas every winter break and The Wedding Singer. We walked everywhere and lived simply. "I wanna be the guy, who grows old with you"

I remember in our first Denver apartment when we took baths together in our claw foot tub in the big bathroom. We put a board over the top and played cards. I liked playing Uno with her in bed too. She was so funny being slightly color blind and in the dark, mixing up the greens and blues. We played Uno in Breckenridge too at that cool bed and breakfast in the fall.

2006

We had continued fun and adventure in our new home of Denver. She was doing well as a trainer for the bank and I started working in health foods. We went camping in New Mexico a couple times with friends and we both took individual trips to Oregon as well as one together for her uncle's wedding. We had marital spats on occasion but always bounced back. The issues we had seemed like part of a normal marriage and were far better than what I had grown up around. I realized that marriage was a lot of work but I was up for the task. She occasionally became aggressive throwing things at me or breaking things during conflict.  I believed I was the problem and tried to change for her in many ways. With two incomes we still had trouble making our bills at times. She had debts that I never knew about that started to catch up with us but I took care of getting them settled and we paid off her car and traded it for an older Volvo Wagon that we both loved, I even had it repainted her favorite color for a birthday gift. Overall things seemed like they were progressing in a positive way.

I remember when we saw Midnight in concert in Boulder. That was the peak of our hippy days. We were alive with pleasure in our healthy vegetarian diets and practices living in a time and place like no other. I want to be like that again. Reggae was our music. We had much in common.

2007

We really fell into our roles in our marriage and the community; church and culture, friends etc. Things seemed very balanced and appropriate for us at that time and that age (24-25). We had separate bank accounts and jobs. I had money in savings. We started the process of buying a house so we could invest in something. She became pregnant shortly after. I embraced the challenge with positive energy but we were both in for a big change. We started having more fights. I didn't have many friends and would write to old friends via social media just so I could to catch up and tell them things were going great with being married to make myself feel better than I actually did. She hated the dawn of social media and also felt isolated I'm sure. She felt I should be doing more for her and I didn't know how to do what she needed but I failed to ask a lot of the time. After one argument, she left the house. My instinct told me to look at ******* and ******* as a retaliation. I had not done this much once we were married because she always met my needs but when things were difficult between us I felt more emotionally isolated. She walked in and realized what I had been doing. She was very upset, and because she was pregnant, thought I was not attracted to her. The truth is I found her even more beautiful and in fact when I looked at ******* I tried to look at women I found less attractive than her so that I feel good about what I have. I mostly fantasized about how these women were more submissive and loving than her. That is the part I needed to feel good about and feel better about myself with because I felt very dominated and controlled. She has never forgiven me for this and I will never stop feeling sorry to her for my brokenness. During one particular argument that year she was getting close to being violent towards me again and I pushed her away on the chest with my fingertips. She got very mad and said I hurt her. I immediately felt terrible and apologized. I never let something like that happen again. I have always avoided violence towards others especially women and of course her. I was defenseless against physical and emotional abuse.

2008

Our eldest son was born at the beginning of the year, it was a traumatic birth for everyone. We wanted a natural birth with a midwife but we were transferred to a hospital and she ended up having an emergency C-section, nothing went as planned. We had a really hard time coping with the emotions of this experience. A lot of buried feelings and trauma from both of us started coming out. We moved a month later into our new home outside of town. No more walking or biking to places, we had to drive everywhere. This house was next to our friends from church. We thought this would make us feel less isolated but we didn’t really have the community with them that we had hoped for. They were upset that they didn't have a child of their own yet and being around us might have been hard for them. My wife stopped working and stayed home with our son. All these changes made for a very difficult time. I did my best to support them but this was the first time we shared a bank account and needed to follow a budget more than ever before. We had no debt at the beginning of the year with money in savings but then the hospital bills put us down about $7,000 and rising with new home and moving expenses and baby needs. My job could barely keep up. She and I had a hard time adjusting. We could not afford to travel home to Oregon and visit family as much and we felt more and more isolated. She started showing me more signs of instability, locking herself in the bathroom with kitchen knives and scraping her legs which continued off and on for years to come. Talks of divorce and suicide threats seemed to happen more than before. I felt responsible and tried to fix her ever changing issues with me.

I remember when herr ******* were full and swollen with milk. It is so beautiful the way she could feed our babies. I wanted her in every way, our bodies belonged to each other. I was there for her and our shared pleasure. I loved it when she told me that she was mine in the heat of passion. This spark could only be a bandage for so long but I didn't know that yet.

2009

I tried to promote within my company but was not selected, they were cutting budgets and employment all around me. I felt worried about our future. I had always thought the military might be a good opportunity and could move us closer to family back home. My father-in-law encouraged me to look into the Coast Guard. I felt this would be a good way to get moved closer to Oregon.  I ended up joining the Navy because we found out we were pregnant again with our second son and that was the only way I could join a military branch. She worked off and on as a nanny and later in the year at a coffee house working nights. We barely spent time together and when we did it was a lot of hard conversations or arguments about finances with making up intimately in the middle of the night between times of caring for the baby. She once scratched my neck with her fingernails during an argument. People I worked with noticed. It was a hard time and we knew change was on the horizon with jobs and moving. We did visit Oregon that summer though and had a great vacation at the beach with a borrowed 4x4 and staying at a hotel and picnicking out of a cooler as well as going to her brothers wedding. I was 26 and about to join the Navy to provide better for my family at all costs sacrificing myself for their benefit because I would have rather died than look like I didn't try my best for them.

I remember when our babies would kick and move around inside her belly. I loved laying by her and feeling her tummy. I would hum to the baby and hear them move and squirm. I loved giving our boys baths when they were babies too. We had our little bundles of our love, wrapped in a towel in our hands, so tiny and vulnerable. I miss those days and want to remember them with her, aside from this state of melancholy.

2010

The Navy recruiters would only take me if we rented out our home and had her stay with family during boot camp and training. We moved to a furnished apartment in Denver and put our things in storage. She was 5 months pregnant and our eldest was two. I shortly after was let go from my job. Our second son was born in April. I got a contract with the Navy at the last minute but didn't leave until August. We sold our beloved vehicles and lived off retirement funds for six months and moved down to Florida where her parents had just moved out of the blue for work, to stay with them until I left for boot camp. I applied for temporary work in Florida at a dozen places but had no luck in my three months there. I took care of our eldest a lot while she took care of the new baby. Being in Florida was a culture shock for us but we had our moments of romance and made the best of it. Eventually I left for boot camp in August. It was really hard and sad to be gone. She stayed in Florida and came to visit me with the baby at boot camp graduation in October. I then went to Connecticut for five months of training. It was also hard but at least I could call home every day and be in the same time zone. I visited Florida during the winter break and saw my boys and her. We went to Disney world and had a great time on her parents. We also made a romantic home movie I could enjoy while away from her. I flew back to Connecticut and tried to make the best of things. My roommate was very abusive of substances and I resisted the temptation for a long time but the threat of being submarine service bound and missing my family pushed me to drinking every weekend and getting messed up to escape before I left.

I remember when we drove to Key Largo, Florida and stopped at a crazy bird wildlife center. I remember our oldest was so amazed hearing a bird say hello back to us. It was so foreign and fun there. I am glad we all shared that experience together.

I remember our trip to the citrus grove in Florida. That was such a great day for our family. I always look back on that with really fond sentiment. I felt like I was in a beautiful family music video with them.

2011

I finished Submarine Training and got orders back to the Northwest. The plan was all coming together. I arrived first and bought a car and got our items moved from storage in Denver to our townhouse rental in Washington. She and the boys joined me a month later. I didn't report to my Sub for another month as they were at sea. She became pregnant again with our third son right after arriving. We had just bought a small car and were not planning on another child. Towards the end of the year I was working a lot and having a really hard time, being bullied and treated poorly at work plus our financial situation was still very difficult. Adjusting to the military was hard among younger men being 28. I dreaded each day in that environment but I tried to endure it for my family. I went to sea for a couple months at the end of the year stopping in Hawaii and California. During this time She reached out to her ex married affair partner after six years of no contact. She didn't tell me until later. She said she needed closure with him, we were not in counseling yet but she decided this was appropriate. I flew home early from sea and wanted to surprise her. The stress and trauma of this quick transition home after being to sea for the first time (which was also traumatic) made me want to drink and get messed up before flying. I arrived home and surprised her but I seemed off to her which I was but didn’t explain why, I have never done that since. I got to be home for two months almost work free while we celebrated the holidays and prepared for the new baby to be born. She started getting more involved with a church and building a community for us which was great. Our financial struggles almost led us to foreclosure of our home back in Colorado but by the grace of God we got it sold with a short sale just in time.

I remember when I came back from Hawaii and brought her a beaded necklace and she wore it naked with her big beautiful pregnant goddess belly and we made passionate hippy love together. I want to grow out my beard again and spend my life making hippy love and feeling free again.

2012

Our third son was born in January. It was a very positive birth experience and much less stressful than the other two. Shortly after I flew out to finish the other half of the deployment I had missed. I really focused on being positive and spiritually connected by reading my Bible at sea which was helpful. I called her when I arrived in Japan halfway through being gone. She was upset because she tested positive for an STD while trying to get on birth control. I became suspicious of her yet she was suspicious of me. We both got tested again and I was clean, she told me she had a false positive after all. This put a big strain on our trust, especially being so far away. This forced us to be honest with each other about some things such as her contact with her ex lover and my drinking to cope. We were both very upset until I returned home and we could start some counseling to work through things. Forgiveness seemed to be difficult for us. It brought up hurts of the past when we were 19. She also had severe postpartum depression that became worse after each birth. I was still having a hard time with work and the submarine environment. Our church friends tried to counsel us but it was not the most helpful. My submarine was scheduled for extended repairs and not going to sea for three years, I would be transferred before the end of that period. I used this time to bond with her and my boys. I wanted to get better involved in our community and do volunteer work and side jobs to earn extra money. Our boys were all given diagnosis's for autism which begun to fill our lives with appointments and challenges for years to come but we were a good team in dealing with all of it. It gave us something to work together on but took our focus away from working on our own personal issues and relationship with each other as much as we should have.

2013

We had new years with both sides of our family in a snowy mountain setting in Oregon. It looked like it was going to be a great year until her Grandpa passed away suddenly. It ripped our entire family apart but especially her. He kept the family grounded and she was very close to him, he really loved all of us. She and I started going on dates again because we had Navy sponsored child care. It was the beginning of a really good thing for us. Tragically one night after a date we were dancing with the boys on the patio and I tried to pick her up and I lost my balance and fell on her, breaking her collar bone severely. She needed surgery and was very mad at me for years to come. She has a scar, a metal plate and numbness in her chest. We worked through it with our community from church but she still is very mad at me. I feel more terrible about this incident than she could ever know. I would lose a finger in place of that incident if I could. I continued having a really hard time in the Navy and I didn't want to stay in but She insisted our boys needed care only the Navy could offer. She also said she would divorce me if I ever left the Navy. I took this threat seriously even though she assured me later that she would never actually do that. Against my own convictions I reenlisted because I wanted to do the best thing for my family. We moved into base housing at the end of summer and didn’t go out to do things as much anymore. The house was nice but it ****** us in, we also had less community with people around our home. I started volunteering at church more and doing work with special needs people. I felt like I was doing good things and that I had purpose all around. I think she appreciated this about me.

2014

We started seeing a professional counselor together and individually. It became a regular event. I worked on myself and she worked on herself. I had a lot of issues with my Mom and eventually broke off communication with her for my own well-being and the betterment of my family. I got past a lot of the bad feelings I had. She worked on her traumatic experiences and our relationship dynamics. Just when things were going well I got a new boss who made things hard for me and others at work and I started messing up more. I got in trouble for messing up a job at work and was given strike one on my record. She lost respect for me as a provider but I tried to stay strong showing her that I would continue to do my best.

I remember when we had an appointment in Tacoma and we had a brunch date together afterwards. She looked so beautiful that day, I took her picture and was so proud to enjoy  huevos rancheros and momosas with her. I remember going to the Tacoma Art Museum seeing the Georgia O’Keefe exhibit, we have a great time together doing new things and feeding each other's interests. I loved laughing with her too, sometimes we just bust up like nobody's around. I loved the sound of her laughter. I loved watching Portlandia with her, it is so funny to remember the funny place where we became close and be able to relate together.

2015

I kept working hard and being involved with family and appointments for my boys and her. I still maintained my volunteer work and part time side jobs. I got strike two with the Navy for messing up again... I had just gained orders to leave the sub for local shore duty. I could not get out of the extended repair situation soon enough. She was very disappointed in me and not so understanding. I worked through this situation with our counselor as did she. He always told her I am a good man and that I do a lot for her and the boys. It's true, I care more than anything about them, I made mistakes and I feel bad especially when I cause my family stress. I left for shore duty in April. It was a hard time adjusting to the new routine but eventually we seemed to make it work. That summer we took a trip to visit Texas where her parents had just moved from Florida. We spent a great night together for our 10th anniversary in a hotel in Texas and went dancing. We had a lot more time together as my work schedule was less. The more people we had in our home working with our kids on issues the less useful my input seemed. I was not included as much in making family decisions because they all seemed to happen while I was at work, despite my objections. We tried to get our budget under control but she still had anxiety discussing spending. She continued to struggle with depression and was put on medication because she had still been harming herself. She was put on Prozac daily and anti anxiety medication as needed. He family members were not very supportive of medication which upset her but I always tried to be supportive in seeking help and continued care for both of us.

2016

We had a busy routine of kids in school now and home school and preschool and appointments for all of us. She wanted to go to church less and less. I started drinking a couple beers at night almost every day. I tried to mask my stress from her mood swings. She decided not to go to church at all anymore and focused teaching the boys about Jewish traditions exclusively which was hard for me to adjust to and confusing for the boys. I loved her and wanted to be supportive. As usual I was submissive and removed myself from the Christian church and some friendships. I feel like we lost our community at that point. We searched for a good place to have a new community with Jewish people but it was like starting over. I felt like I converted to Christianity for her when we got together and now I had to convert again, either way I would have done it for her because I loved her that much. The kids were confused by this change. After trying and failing at many synagogues we finally found one that seemed right for us.

2017

We finally had some money in savings because I kept it a secret and ended up planning a trip to visit her parents in Texas but it fell through due to lack of military flights. Instead we spent three nights away in a nice hotel resort as a family in February. We had three days of pure family time. Playing Battleship and other games in our room as a family, watching movies and eating at all the different restaurants and getting room service. Going swimming everyday in the foggy pool. I love our family and how we can have a great time together doing nothing but at the same time so much. That was so peaceful and relaxing. I wanted to keep doing things like that together as a family before our boys got too old. Shortly after this vacation she wanted to go back to school, then we bought a third vehicle so she could. Shortly after this she changed her mind about school and wanted to buy another house instead. I went along with it to please her and we practically killed ourselves trying to get the move accomplished with not much help or money. We had a good year over all. We got away for a romantic anniversary together in the summer. Just before the boys were going to start public school in the fall, her parents moved back to the area. She had anxiety with this and cut off contact with her parents and brothers for a while. Her Dad called me very upset and I tried to keep the peace until they reconciled. I was doing better with work and made up for lost progress as well as making arrangements to change jobs in the Navy to something more fitting. Since the boys started public school, I planned on leaving for Navy training in my new position after the beginning of the new year when they would be at a more settled place in their routine.

I remember when we went to the Olympic Club for our anniversary and we stayed there for a night away. We drove the long way through the countryside talking about new music that she wanted to share with me and she made notes of it on my phone notepad. We brought our own cooler and picnic that included Session Lagers and chocolate. We checked in to our room and made noisy bohemian love on the edge of the creaky bed in our small European room inches from the door. Then we went to the theater downstairs and watched the late showing of a really interesting Sci-fi movie "Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets". We took showers and slept sweetly together. We made love again in the morning before we had a delicious brunch outside on the patio. We took the long way home and drove around on new roads and found our way out of cell phone reception. We figured out the road less traveled to get back to our home. We loved being alone and away together, just one night can make such a difference and mean so much.

I remember going to the Forest Theater to see Tarzan with our boys. That was such a great time. I would love to get our boys into theater and go see them someday. I wanted to keep our dreams and goals together alive and not lose opportunity and fall short by losing our partnership.

I loved going camping in Seabeck. Loading the truck with all our gear and getting away. Archer got sick from the cowboy caviar and I had to clean him and the tent up in the night. I was glad we had each other to be a team in our marriage in that situation as with all the other times. These sorts of things are what escape a person's mind when they are determined to get a divorce.

2018

We had a lot less money than the year before, again buying a house took its toll on finances as did the boys school and after school activities. I stayed very involved taking the boys to appointments and sporting practices. We stopped going to synagogue but tried to practice Judaism at home as much as possible, which I was very supportive of and involved with. She was still depressed and talking about suicide at times. I encouraged her to get help as I always had. Eventually she was diagnosed as Bipolar 2 and manic depressive by a new provider. She started taking new medicine for this and was worried I would want to leave her. I assured her I would never leave her and that I always wanted to work on things with her and help her. I left for training in Mississippi February 8th. It was going to be hard but I thought it might be good to have some time apart from each other to miss one another and reflect on things as well as prepare for times when I would be away at sea. I got in trouble in Mississippi for giving junior personnel a ride and being negligent of people who might be underage and possibly drinking, this became strike three. I never thought this could happen. I became recommend for separation from the Navy shortly after and was stuck in Mississippi for six months instead of six weeks. She was supportive through most of it but seemed to fall into hopelessness. Money was spent by her that we didn't have without discussion. She quietly leased appliances and tires and purchased a vehicle as well as having a secret bank account and email address. I discovered through our insurance company that she wanted to leave our policy for divorce. I didn't know this and she had even told the boys she wanted a divorce before I even knew. I was caught off guard and confused. I kept trying to communicate and reason with her but she didn't want to talk. I refused to give up and wrote emails and a letter but it only seemed to push her away further. By the time I left Mississippi she had filed for divorce and a restraining order against me saying I was unstable and a threat. I couldn't return to my home. My whole life fell apart in just a couple months. I found out she had been talking to other men in the Navy and keeping more secrets. I assumed this was her way of taking control during a difficult situation. I really needed her support during this hard time of transition out of the military. I became homeless, jobless and without my family in a month. I prayed to God that given time things might change between us but it was of no use. Bipolar had consumed whatever was left of my bride and there was no turning back.

I felt that our love was not one to be cast away. Other people might not understand or agree but what we had was truly special. We may have surely needed some time and space to get counseling as well as reconfigure and repair our marriage but I didn't feel like our relationship was irretrievably broken. She was so important to me and I thought she was the love of my life and would always have my heart. I wanted to be her partner in love and life, watching our boys grow up and being there to support each other. Being that she is Bipolar I knew she will need a lot of help and I was more than willing to assist her in making sure she was taking care of herself and not throwing herself into harm's way, ensuring she sticks with a plan we agree to for consistency. I cared about her deeply and had much compassion for her. I didn't believe she was thinking this through or thinking about the future. I really wanted to look at the long and short game with her, neither seemed appealing to me if we progressed but here we are. Things are not going to be easier. She will still have to face her problems and deal with me on a regular basis for the rest of our lives no matter what happens. She can believe her lawyer when they promise she'll get the moon and stars out of this in the end but they only see half of the story. Above all they want our money. It would have been good for her to face me in person and tell me she wanted to divorce and we could have started talking about it with a counselor to figure out how that could even work. Instead she chose to avoid as much responsibility for her actions as possible by doing everything in my absence as if I am not a real person. I had to find out about it from our insurance company and was last to know.

Immediately after I hear the word divorce I looked into her cell usage history and find she has a new military boyfriend that she talks to 20-30 times a day. She felt she owed me no explanation for this and it was none of my business. A mature person would have let me know about this months before and I would have seen it coming but there was no sign until it was seemingly too late. She strayed down a dark path and never turned back.

Her proposed parenting plan was cruel and had no thought put into it. Two hours a week with supervision, no holidays but father's day? She said she’s not trying to keep me from the kids but this is the exact opposite of what she’s saying with the paperwork she filed. She seems very mixed up and still you continues to make rash and sudden choices. Like a completely bogus restraining order against me that contradicts so many facts she has stated herself on record during my Navy retention process. She was so bold as to want to change her identity and even put it in ink on the divorce paperwork as well to a whole new name. That is not the actions of a stable person. She has since changed her mind again on that just as quickly as everything else in her recent life choices. I can't trust that any decisions she is making right now are for the right reasons or that she is of sound mind. I have never seen her so conflicted and confused, grasping at straws and running scared from herself.

Using the legal system so carelessly and going back and forth makes me feel like she is not ready to be making big choices and changes for her and our family. It is very unfair that she can’t consider my feelings on things and what I wish for the boys as well. Very reckless behavior. She can’t anticipate that the day would come where she has to face me and talk to me like an adult. She wants to hide behind the legal system which only leaves much to be unresolved. Ghosting me is not really an option in a marriage of 13 years with children.

Having relationship conversations is too difficult for her at this time and she would rather avoid it and skip to divorce because she thinks that will somehow be easier. I suspect she knows she is making poor choices, possibly out of fear and lust for something new and less painful than the reality of things right now. Our marriage was nowhere close to divorce when I left. She was sad to see me leave and woke with me at 3:30 am to say goodbye, making me coffee and cookies for me to take with.

Our community and accountability seems to be gone due to the continued trend of isolation that she is drawn to. The God fearing loving committed wife I thought I had is gone or trapped inside a terrified shell of herself. She cut me off from her family members and I can't discuss my concerns about her with them either. She only seems to have community with those who are not going to discourage her from these destructive choices.

I understand we have had issues and struggles but we are no worse off than other couples during challenging times. I think that because we loved each other so much it just hurt more when things got hard. I can't accept or believe this is justified or the right choice based on the positive trend we were on before I left. This was the longest break we have ever had from each other and I think she just needed someone to be there more for her, no matter who it was. Time can heal all wounds and I hope that is true for our relationship as co-parents.

She still refuses to tell me about why she wanted a divorce or talk about anything beyond caring for the kids. I have fought the restraining and I can see my boys again but I am still not allowed to my home without her permission.

I have risen from the ashes in just a couple months. I rent a room from a nice couple from our old church and obtained a good paying job while I continue paying the household bills.

This is a really hard time, this difficult spell could have been a tool to better our relationship. I wanted to experience more beautiful memories with her. We had so many more beautiful memories and dreams left to create. This is what marriage looks like to me now as I lower the casket.

before i pull this one out of my *** (again - listen, these words are not coming from either head or heart, it's best to pull them from the bowels, a gut-wrenching-feeling is more potent than that "something" that "something" delusional pulled from a clenched heart... as far as i know, the brain is incapable of emotions, it doesn't understand them, and since it doesn't understand them: it ridicules them)... which brings me to point:

(a) perhaps the idea of a soul is out-dated... why wouldn't it be, 21g worth of breath does not equal a soul... hence the autopsy of man, each detail studied seperately, the cardiologist knows the heart, the neurologist the brain etc., but some items work in a solipsistic mode... the heart is robotic, automaton pump queen (and not the kind of pump you'd get from Shveeden) - thump thump thump! come to think of it, most of our bodies are robotic, automated... lucky for me: i don't have to think about the heart doing what it does, it just per se does it... i'm not even sure i'm gifted with the a.i. brain functions... but there's an underlying principle that governs all of these items... some call it the self... i prefer: the Σ ultimatum... some would call it soul... but there has to be something akin to the Σ ultimatum that allows me to become detached from this body, while at the same time be bound to it: high blood pressure, heart attack on the horizon... take the high blood pressure pills... ****... what was (b)? oh... yes...

(b) i'm sorry, virginity doesn't cut it for me, lucky me that it was isabella of grenoble that allowed me to move aside from: god, prior to losing my virginity.... roxette: do you feel excited, you're still the one (shanaia twain), fade to black - metallica... i was such a romantic before i lost this dreaded curse... i was a romantic... 19th century style romanticism... but you really can see past this sort of romanticism unless you haven't ******... these days the right complains about cultural marxism: plenty of things to complain about... it makes as much sense as a pickle in a dollop of custard... or cooking with pale indian ale to make a stew: bad idea... wine, brandy, cider? fine... beer? terrible idea to cook with... but unless you haven't lost your virginity, you can't see what cultural marxism chose as its opponent: cultural darwinism... you know how little you hear about darwinism outside of the english speaking world? zero to none, yes, it's an accepted fact, but this fact does not permeate outside of the fact per se, the fact contains itself and the whole subsequent narrative because subconsciously stored... no other people than the people who found it ensure there are subplot proof statements of a reconfirmation of the validity... the whole social science bogus trap of rating people on looks... contradicting the meritocracy of that old Socratic saying: let me be as beautiful on the inside as on the outside... if you haven't ******: you're still the same old romantic i was at puberty... once you ****... well... cultural marxism dwarfs... yes yes it's there... so? but at the same time you can at least appreciate seeing the antithesis: cultural darwinism... the romantic needs to die the most carnal death via experience... all my ideals were shattered, this perfection of woman... i very much liked the idea / not even the ideal of a woman... but when the idea fizzled out and there was no ideal to begin with... i saw cultural darwinism for the very first time and... it was as ugly as cultural marxism so heavily criticized by the conservative right of the west... so... i decided to walk the middle ground, ignoring both sides (of the argument).

(c) i wouldn't have come up with a point see, unless my favorite square schematic didn't pop into my mind, Kantian, as ever: the best philosophy is the antithesis of English pragmatism and overt-politicisation, so it has to be German, ergo? i will not explain these terms, i figured: if i nail a decent example to fit each category, that's enough: since you can then visualize the concept via the example:

analytical a priori                           synthetic a priori
there's a need to throw                   learning
a ball at                                                to throw a ball
a target                                                 at a target once
                                                            ­  the need has been
                                                            ­  established...



synthetic a posteriori                    analytical a posteriori
there's a  need to                           perfecting to throw
      throw a ball at                               a ball at a target
a target, in order
to perfect this need...

                                            baseball..­. cricket...
at least: that's how i define knowledge of something
simple without having to use mathematics
that Kant used to explain... 2 + 2 = 4...
mathematics isn't exactly a man's best friend
at explaining philosophy...
you write philosophy that alligns itself
to mathematics... no wonder: moths in books...
yawns, unfinished works...
i found that sports work just as well
as mathematics... and you have the already
primitive objects to work with...
rather than pseudo-objects: i.e. numbers...
the abstracts of perception: i'm actually 6ft2...
not 6ft1... karolína plíšková is 6ft1...
       as noted when watching her today...

  i'll admit, i'm always a bit shaky when it comes
to this sqaure, whether it's over-simplified,
notably the top left corner: analytical a priori,
i'm always of a mindset that wants to associated
this definition with: analytical a- priori...
  i.e. borrowing from atheism:
    to analyse something without there
being a prior to example...
               analysis without a prior example...
i guess that's the mojo of science... the driving force...
back to sports... bow and arrow...
   tools: target...
       whether a bow and arrow and a deer
to begin with...
or a hand and ball and a wicket to end with...

there's a need to throw                  
a ball at a target...

            and cricket was the precursor of
baseball, but prior to cricket?
   there was archery...
              and prior to archery...
   there was forever a fundamental need,
e.g. to go from point X to point Z...
   see... as much as Kant wanted...
   numbers don't really solve the "problem"
of explaining something: algebra would be
better suited... x + y = z...
                    with numbers either hovering
above, or below (in the instance of chemistry's
subscript)...

talking of squares... sūdoku...
well, if at any time the french were to receive a hard-on
in terms of inventing something,
the english: rugby, cricket, football, tennis...
the french really did read some of the hebrew
qabbalah literature, as i am doing...
magic squares...
       the secular version of this puzzle
first appeared on july 6, 1895 (the modern version)...

it came to us from India and China...
again... why do western cultural darwinists
always tell our genesis from
the perspective of: "out of Africa"?
aren't there elephants in India?
            i will not believe i originated in Africa,
i'm not an "out of Africa" sorry state of
incompetence... i place my origins in
the sub-continent... at least that's where my
current language originates from...
the great migration across the Siberian tundra,
rather than some African savannah...
after all the Bangladeshi and the Sri Lankans
(the tear of India) resemble burnt cinnamon
in tone, some even as dark skinned as
east africans...
   if the germanic people want to stick to
the "out of Africa" narrative (notably the English):
let them have it... i place my origins in
India...

   never mind, now i'll write a name's dropping
history of how july 6th, 1895 happened...
the "magic" squares...

    from either India or China (chess from India)...
moschopulus of contantinople
  introduced them (the "magic" squares)
in the early 1400s... apparently ancient qabbalists
had knowledge of them
  (so... a trip well spent)...
                             rabbi joseph tzayah (1505 - 1573)
magnum opus: responsa...
             rabbi joseph castro: avkat rokhel...
tzayah in jerusalem wrote his major work
Evven HaShoham (the onyx stone) - 1538 -
   a year later the book: tzeror ha-chaim discussing
the Talmud: he never really bothered about
the Zohar...
               the hebrai word for "letters": otiot...
divided into two:
                         tav aleph (a line of aleph)
and tav yod (a line of yod)...
                   one is to never concentrate
upon the keter within the realm of the sefirot...
hence the matisyahu expression:
   king without a crown...
                         one example of a "magic" square
later dictated into a 9 x 9 newspaper puzzle?
      2     9     4
      7     5     3
      6     1     8     (up down across = 15...
my date of birth? 15th may 1986,
no coincidence, just stating an oblivion's
worth of a "point)... 15 x 3 = 45...
   and that's about as significant as any
                               insignificance can be...

album of choice?
    old horn tooth - from the ghost grey depths...

and without even associating the arabs
to the hebrai practice of gamatria,
i once inquired an old pakistani (who tried to convert me)
what: Alif, Lam, Meem
implied in the opening of the al-baqarah sutra
implied?
   he replied: god knew...
        so i thought, you don't know what
alif (letter) what lam (letter) and meem (also a letter)
means? you have to search for god
for the answers? good look making me into
a proselyte... mind you:
if the jews abhor proselytes,
while the muslims are so so oh so *******
welcoming... isn't that a tad bit suspicious?
how can a muslim convert me
when he can't explain to me what
alif lam and meem implies at the opening
of al-baqarah?!
            let's play some hijāʾī order game...
and the three letters...
       28 letters in total...
alif (28), lam (6), meem (5)...
    i'm not even going to go into the gamatria
mental gymnsastics related to any
"significance"...
   point was made upon the question being
asked... if a muslim tries to covert you...
and he can't explain to you
the significance of alif lam meem at the beginning
of al-baqarah... they're letters...
well... how is he going to explain to you
what's bothersome about those letters
to begin with? ALM... does that imply: zakat?!
to give alms? zakat being one of the pillars
of islam?
  **** me... i haven't even converted
and it would appear: i know more than the person
who tried to convert me!

.i. Yuri Gagarin and the yo-yo

if ever the potency of a "keyboard crusader"
existed, it's now -
   i can dangle a mouse above a bear-trap
and tell an elephant of a phobia concerning
mice any day of the week,
          when in fact i'm talking about
a mousetrap: nothing more.
     hence the exaggeration in the imagery
comparison:
        or it begins with a story told in the 20th
century:
             when women put down their mascara
brushes, men put down their swords:
never mind the voice in the wilderness:
       mind the voice in the crowd -
there's absolutely no reason to speculate
urbanity and tribal environments without
addressing, or regressing the crowd,
or as i like to call it: what Nietzsche said,
minus the Wake... but now inclusive of the wake
and the Bacchus cult of fun fun fun.
            the Wake in condor terms?
we congregate praying for something to die...
      i don't pretend to be whatever
that sachet of concrete-Cartesian labels entitles me
too:        for the most part
        people say 'i am' without a thought to
govern the rain shaman telling you what thought
is required to 'be', oh, a very old ontological
stipend: you need people to experience a collectivisation,
a herding, a "bound together" sort of mentality
before the critic arrives and says: well, that's not
what i'm really about.
                    a bit like the **** firs, mouth second
debacle...
                but what heart they had, our predecessors!
what heart!
             they'd wage war over a woman,
a Helen,
                  would you wage a war against
the feminist version of Helen these days?
would you pluck a Scottish thistle over an English rose?
      true: you might be a bishop
and of lesser rank... but would you wage a war
over the women of these days?
my **** is in a pickle jar anyway! we have become
a *** of a species unburdened by an obligation...
             finally! we can become eternal bachelors
sort of ******* that we're here, and hear less and less
of sayings about the "things that matter".
            you know what vile? really really vile?
oh i know my contemporaries when i bother to
hear them talk, oddly enough never bother when they
think, i'm quiet content with a Godot stage of
a park bench and an old man as my company,
      i know Douglas Murray,
               i know the wild-eyed Icke,
but a thing that concerns me is why: the safety room
parallel to the leftist thesis of offensive speech
was put in play when a discussion took off
concerning feminism, between milo yiannopoulus
and julie bindel - that's like saying:
ask a pederast to talk for a heterosexual man
with a woman safe-space...
                                no one wants to hear
the heterosexual side of the argument....
  you'll sooner see heterosexual intellects have their
marriages come undone then get paired with either
side of the argument...
     little richard is in the pickle jar anyway,
and he's not coming out...
                it's a bit like ****** for dummies....
       hence i have to succumb to violence without
the glory, tongue waggling blah blah
when i'd gladly take a weapon and shove it into
a shattered cranium bone: had i the ****** chance to
do so!
           no heterosexual is taken seriously:
and won't be:
    of a woman to be like a rosy cushion on which
i can lay my head after the darkly toils of
    roofing, or laying bricks, or excavating the sewers...
no! let the Chinese do that:
the basic argument of slavery, although imported
therefore ****** ******* fine.
                         cryogenic fathers,
      pickled *****:      where's the middle in all of this?
     a coconut just fell from the Boddhi tree:
money!           and those that defend it,
don't know squat about the tribalism of squatters!
but hey! they have the ****** stage!
         i have a bench when someone approaches me
and talk, doing the best thing possible:
               knitting opinions -
i don't want the truth of opinions: i want a sweater,
or a pair of socks! that's metaphor for something
different altogether.
  keyboard crusader? really? can i ask you for
directions to the high street, in every single town
across the country? i can't find one!
         no one hears a heterosexual argument
on the various topics: because there isn't one -
                     as of the end of the 20th century,
working classes in the west striving to ensure
there is something mundane to do during the day
and kick back with the family in the evening
are the "inferior" neanderthals: who
haven't jacked into discovering a 3D reality
of what's otherwise a 2D computer screen and
aren't hooked on #crack;
honestly, so much debating ought to be opera,
and so much opera ought to be debating -
    ah: that famous tingle of utopian paradoxes
never in duality, but always in dichotomy.
   keyboard crusader?
really? i thought people were always moaning
about how many emails they receive:
   and never a single postcard from, say,
someplace like Venice?
           it's still early days,
                   and already we're brewing enough
cliches to replace all known nouns in
    the surrogate mother that's the dictionary
of our completed version of a soul -
if ever to be experienced upon meeting the omni-vocabulary;
jigsaws, i know my idiosyncratic version
of events, he says photosynthesis within parameters
                            of photon deconstruction of hydrogen;
'cos' it's sub; d'uh! i say god i say this perfected
version of nearing telepathy - you say god i hope you
don't mean satan's clause - great anagram to frighten
children with: the Babushka surprise of a Pumpkin head
laughing it's way toward: how easy life would be
if we had all that time to think it through as being hard,
rather than that mortal fleetingness in both thought
and body.

ii. Macbeth

it really dawned on me, when i was watching the film
Macbeth (2015) -
            there was an eeriness to it, a near perfection
of Shakespeare on screen...
           honestly? i'd rather read Kant early on in life
while i have the vigour, and leave old age to Shakespeare...
but it truly was eerie all over the place.
      i do recall seeing Romeo + Juliet
          and reading the script, and imagining the fallacy
of word for word translation from theatre to cinema
of the script: the narrator a news channel anchor,
and everything said, word, for, word.
that film with DiCaprio as Romeo and Claire Danes
as Juliet - it just felt itchy, uncomfortable -
                            Shakespeare, word for word, on screen?!
     (surprise, then astonishment, not !? or astonishment,
   then the surprise, because: it didn't really work);
and it didn't! you can't adapt Shakespeare to the screen
and put everything in! i noticed it at that ******
generous scene in Macbeth concerning the battle
of Ellon... so i was like like... this isn't typescript...
(and thank **** it isn't) -
you can't depict Shakespeare word for word,
to be honest, Macbeth (2015) is the only worthy
translation of Macbeth (the text) into Macbeth (the movie);
all this scientific exactness in previous examples
like Romeo + Juliet, the Merchant of Venice
and a Midsummer's Night Dream don't work,
it's their precision making,
     a theatre cast can take it, but a cinema going crowd,
with all these cutting and copying and repasting
    succinct moments? it doesn't work!
maybe because there's no actual narrator in the staged
examples? narrator as a necessary character understudy:
surely Puck and the news anchor are there:
don't know about the Shylock scenario...
           but these screen adaptations didn't work for me,
too rigid, too formal... in the case of Macbeth?
finally! the long awaited piquant version of Shakespeare:
all that matters, and the rest is thrown into
poetic technique: imagery, metaphor,
                everything that's necessary can be given grammar
as image and not word!
       want an example? from the text...
the Royal Shakespeare
  from the text of Professor Delius
  and introduction by f. j. Furnivall, ll.d.
         vol. v (special edition)
Cassell & Company, Ltd.
        sure, it feels like a Roman Polanski moment
akin to the 9th Gate scenic affair of a bibliophile
fetishist, and it is:

     ... (the only enemy of enso poetry
is the bladder) ...

well the screen play first:

banquo: what are these?
macbeth: live you? or are you aught
                          that man may question?
       speak if you can - what are you?
1st witch: macbeth! hail to thee
                    thane of Glamis!
2nd witch: macbeth... hail to thee,
       thane of Cawdor!
3rd witch: all hail Macbeth! that shalt be king in-after.

but such disparity, such **** as if once
of Lucretia, then of the authority,
for i have before me the original composition:
which is not worth cinema -
nonetheless, a **** takes place:
an assortment for the abdication of a king:
or as ever suggested: the wrong footed path:
never was tossing a coin in a gamble
that of tossing a crown into the air
for a court jester to appear less amusing
and more scolding.

act i, scene iii: post the battle of ellon...
  if ever the refusal to give up Greek myth,
then Macbeth's witches
      and Perseus' Graeae -
                            or naturalise a myth:
like you might not naturalise a strengthened
economy.... canonise the nation
with Elgin Marbles - Elgin: less than
what's said to be the exfoliation of the Aegean -
a municipality somewhere in Scotland:
west of Aberdeen, on the Northern Sea's
battering of the coast...
but word for word? or how to write Shakespeare
into cinema?
                 herr zensor must come into play -
you have to bypass imagery in poetic tongue
and relay it with actual images, a direly needed
necessity:

just after the three witches arrive,
enter Macbeth and Bonquo...

   Macb. so foul and fair a day i have not seen.
Ban. how far is't call'd to Fores? - what are these,
     so wither'd and so wild in their attire,
that look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth,
   and yet are on 't?
             live you? or are you aught that man may
question?
                  (how word for word, but the words
waggle from a different tongue, namely that of
Macbeth, and not that of Banquo, hence
italicised).
                   continuing:
       you seem to understand me,
by each at once her choppy finger laying upon her
skinny lips: - you should be women, and yet your
beards forbid me to interpret that you are so.
Macb. speak, if you can - what are you?
         the witches. all hail, Macbeth!
     hail to thee, thane of Glamis!
         all hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane
of Cawdor!
         all hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.
            
so does he really belong on the psychoanalytic
couch? is he really that necessarily wonton of talk?
  Cawdor v. Gondor - it's an ongoing narrative.
but is he in need of a couch?
                 what sort of talk is talk when
in fact the only talk that's need to be said is the talk
of man's sexualised naturalisation for strife,
and here: as if knocking on a door:
you want to simply hear the onomatopoeia of
the Kabbalah in a woman gasping for breath
while puny Jewish boys under strict rabbinical
studies study?

                mama, take this badge from  me,
i can't use it, anymore,
            it's getting dark, too dark to see,
feels like i'm knockin' on heaven's door -
      my big mouth and man as a piston
                                               Ferrari acrobat

(even the soundtrack is a shrill, a strangulation
variant of higher pitch of the bagpipes -
not that braveheart ****** of whisking out
a song like for the love of a princess addition to:
  and can i have a madonna to boot too?
it's piercing, a whale sonar above refrigerator
white noise hum for the new age Buddha -
and that's because all the poetry has been excavated
  to suit cinema: not theatre).

and this is the first adaptation of Shakespeare i actually
could stomach...
     the genius was in how Macbeth spoke the lines
of Bonqua - so the character didn't start smacking
the narrative ****** in terms of solipsism:
even Shakespeare can be attacked on this front...
        if in the movie Banqua said all that was in
the typescript: the film wouldn't have worked...
i don't know what the big deal is with Lady Macbeth:
i thought that in the olden days
Macbeth suggested to King Duncan that:
can i leave the warring if you **** my wife?
i can go on the contract that you **** my wife
and i stop serving you?
      first impressions: strange English.
well, i'm sure she's important as it might be said:
within the programme of Orthodoxy,
            but never catholic (metadoxy) tradition of
saying: way hey! ensnare the mare in a funfair!
       and play the game: pin the tale on the donkey!
heads or tails?      it looks pretty damnable
     in the first place: as all honesty hogs to pout and
***** a hoggish sneeze out of the story.

iii. shaken, not stirred

and indeed, how many a times
did not a neon blossom sprout,
thinking it might rattle an oratory
with an oak in autumn, and behold
a swarm of leaves descend -
not out of passing ease,
but out of wishful thinking
that some indentation might be made:
with whom the hands of will reside,
and yet: to no gratifying effect,
to whatever atomic-centralisation
dream, be that ego or be it hydrogen
(lending hands: so too
electric or thus negative, neutral and
thus proto) - shake foundation
and give a revising repertoire of
              the covering dust humanity
that once made famous: never
again to learn the humility of the start;
        to whatever centric dream that
does not waver in demands of orientation,
be it father (sun), son (shadow)
  or the holy spirit (night) -
  make them earn! be obscure!
            or simply say: in the community
of the stated congregation:
  i find all to be as night,
   and safer that plague the father:
  i am not akin to the shadow:
                   but the shadow in mirror.
so, a centric dream that does not
waver in demands for orientation,
has ever or will be enthroned in man's
heart as the stability of Sabbath's demands
       for less, oh so much less to agitate with!
as too, when the ancient appliances
were adorned by countless demands of
mimic, so too our modern
fibbles are to stage a usurping of
such things demanded and their mimic;
for with such disclosure does all fate
of anewed become burdened in what
history could be: shaken,
rather than simply a stirring of the void,
nothing more than the unburdening
of sweetening a cup of coffee, of that and
the layers: or bitter at the top, drank
through toward the sedimented sweetness -
and all that: hoping i could have retained
that silver spoon lodged in my ***
          when i first met her and thought about
consolidating marriage: so fresh, eager prune
of the flesh embodiment as first
    watered ash, then entombed in marble
and the eternal... ah
               but it was all just the faintest of dreams;
so lumberjack sleep ensued,
                      as did a kindred worth ethic:
we are a long way from Eden...
      there is but the idyll of the absurd fruition of
albreit macht frei... or a redefinement of
such stakes as: what occupies our days?
                    if not war, if not disease,
if not the Chinese... what does, occupy our days?

.i do expect you to become lost in this labyrinth - at least that's what i'd rather say - sleep-deprivation is for "some" reason to escape the mediocre of having catched the "8 hour wink"... or whatever the Minotaur wouldn't call it... because i wouldn't call it a "problem" of "gender-neutral pronouns" either... i would call it a "problem" of noun-acquisition-status of letters; notably in greek and hebrew.

friends of "the" family have been looking
for on fb,
****... the caron S (š) will not do!
i need to use two alphabets that...
did not nurture yiddish into existence!
cyrillic didn't accept hebrew...
it'll have to do...
it wouldn't be enough to simply write
my name in cyrillic...
and no... in hebrew no less!
since the vowels are hidden...
and inserting the proper hebrew vowel...
it still wouldn't matter that...
my surname is missing... the galician germanic
e(ch)lert or the e(sch)lert...
no... but how is one to insert
the right kind of vowel: all in hebrew niqab
harem of diacritical markers subscript...
when... you don't have...
enough letters as nouns as scientific
constants as the greeks... do...
i guess only η (eta) stands out as a sore thumb /
black sheep... but i am bound to be wrong,
in the meantime:
well it's hardly a letter-with-a-noun
inclined akin to alpha (α) -
otherwise all is well...
we use the prefix prime (the grammaton per se)...
and discard the suffix when constructing words...
ergo? a-lpha...
and so an so forth...
till be arrive at...
blasting your ears nearing deafness because:
beethoven's mrs. H is:
music so you have to shout over it!
loud! what?! loud music!
loud music what?! loud music
to shun the "pain"...
oh... see you in one of those classes
when you can write sign-language for the dead
when you've been allowed to write braille!
see you sputnik ****!
yeah, see you deaf in one year divine John!
but you get the promise that's:
not your everyday latin castrato sing-along...
those greeks sure have all the best
science... stabilizers... not a lot of songs
to sing along to... because their letters
are also noun-status: also have noun-status...
otherwise the ol' prefix use...
and the suffix recycling centre...
a word like: matter...
well...
   ματτερ - no... i will not use the greek word...
i'll state... mmm... hm!
mu implies m- and cutting off the -u...
alpha implies a- and cutting off the -lpha
tau implies t- and cutting off the -au...
epsilon implies e- and cutting off the -psilon
rho implies r- and cutting off the -**...
and so... we have the word matter...
and the recycled materials for...
some other words...

hebrews? hebrews do have... noun-status letters...
(א) aleph - what's vogue?
inserting the iota into the omicron that's
the marriage: φ (phi)...
or whether it's the turning of the iota in
the omicron to provide the opening of the door
θ (theta) to see: that light at the end of the tunnel
delta (Δ)... again... it's only aleph we're "investigating"...

the other letter in hebrew with a noun-status?
(ג) g'imel...
another is (ד) d'alet...
(ז) z'ayin...
(ל) l'amed...
(ס) s'amekh... most certainly (ע) a'yin...
(צ) t'sadi...

interlude: what is the distance
between (א) a'leph and (ע) a'yin?
a kametz...

now we can "debate" - noun-status letters...
the greeks are in the same sort of pickle
as the hebrews...
there can be a debate whether...
the greeks have more than:
alpha, beta, gamma, delta, epsilon, iota,
lambda, omicron, sigma, upsilon, omega
as noun-status letters...

why? because it becomes silly...
(ק) qof and (κ) kappa...
(ר) resh and rho (ρ)...
(שׁ) and... well... to be honest...
that's heading into cyrillic territory...
and the caron S (ш)...
given (ס) samekh and sigma (σ)...

this always happens to me when i come
across a hebrew...
even if he's old and riddled with dementia...
i see him with his polish bride
and i see a "romanian gypsy"...
the feeling is... strange...
this hebrew is like an old cousin of mine...
but it's always a touch of magic...

i am not good at solving crosswords...
(כ) 'xaf' and chi (χ) -
perhaps i have exagerrated the letter-as-noun
status on some of this greek and hebrew...
tightly-knit bed-fellows...
as the boasting resounds in the labyrinth
of the rise and fall of the roman empire...
and the barbarian attempts to have
settled the lands near the seven hills...
and revived the eagle...
spec-ta-cu-lar failures!

the germans should console themselves
with having a crow on their marching banners...
and polacks should...
satisfy themselves with the unicorn myth
of an all-white bald eagle... albino eagle...
and so the harry potter: minus ***** 'arry
can have their unicorns, swans,
honey-badgers, welsh dragon,
st. andrew's gryffindors... etc. -

name, a name... i need to... change it...
obviously...
no hebrew vowels will be used...
since... their use... is devoid of what's already
concrete usage of diacritical markers
in established letters...
if cyrillic and hebrew is to be used...
and not greek and hebrew:
because... well thank you for the new testament
riddle... let's move... away...
to "greater" / other... things....

i can't use a kametz alpha
a tzere epsilon
a chirek iota
a cholem omicron
or a shurek upsilon (omega)...
so all the vowels will have to by cyrillic...

my... latin, name?
mateusz konrad... let's drop the surname...
let's call it a game of:
ibn... or ben... matthew son of konrad...
and since i don't have a... confirmation name...
what name? i would have chosen: Isidore...
after the saint of seville...
or... Ignatius (of Loyola) -
the only fun part of going to a catholic school
was... learning about the counter-reformation
and writing an essay about it...
and their library was decently stacked...
so... plus plus...

this is but a simple exercise...
first the name in cyrillic...
there will not be a full name in hebrew...
which i'll probably lace with greek...
and it will still make all the more perfect
sense... should it be transliterated back
into anglo-ßaß...
yeah: why i don't have a girlfriend...
with these sort of interests?
i guess an hour with a *******
once a year is enough for me...
and for womankind in the hospice of omni...

just following the laziness
of the russian visa authorities are the embassy...
they didn't translate mateusz into matvei
or konrad into: Дракон...
мат-вей...

these are the sort of idiotic tier-1 level
кaцaпс... working in the russian embassy in Loon'don...

because i was never going to be the матвей
who'd **** an илoнa like the 300 deadly mongrel
saracren mameluks or the spartans... no...
i counter the 7 headed beast on her
with every ****** in that one night
i was making my final goodbyes...
but keeping the mikhail bulgakov novel...
through a repose in Warsaw and...
i finished what, "apparently" i wasn't supposed
to finish...

and she is one of those troubled girls...
every ****** partner that meant anything to her...
she will have a tattoo of that lover
on her body... i know my place on her body...
it's on the right shoulder-blade...
the tattoo is of a dragon...
i know because i've met girls like her...
elsewhere...

even as i was being driven home after taking
my mother for her rheumatoid arthritis check-up,
blood test, x-ray... and the pakistani cab-driver
was talking about all the precautions he needs
these days: video ahead of the bonet for insurance
policy... a camera looking in...
and audio recording on his smartwatch...
because what he said... didn't surprise me...
i once picked up a spanish girl - Tamara in a club...
and she decided to take me home
for a one night stand...
as we were approaching the house she was
sharing with three homosexuals
she decided to jump out of the cab...
and make a runner... i calmed the cabbie:
i'll pay for it...
we tried to later **** the hetreosexual way
with her calling me angel because
of my "erectile dysfunction" under the bed sheets
in that putrid smoke of cocoon ***...
like the birth of a rancid moth embryo and
choking from the heat of dust and alcohol
and... what i am alluding to is that some girls
do jump out of cabs to avoid paying the fair...
i knew what the pakistani cabbie was saying...
she owed him 40 quid...
he filed the whole thing to the police...
she accused him of ****** assault...
the story would have fit...
she run from the cab when he tried to sexually
assault her... but... he did have
that audio recording from his smartwatch...
in the end the girl was fined 700 quid...
which is nothing... compared to...
what's that called in h'america? a false accusation?
slander?
i know that girls jump out of cabs...
to avoid paying the fare...
i drove with one... who did just that...
i guess she was so used to this act that she
forgot i was sitting next to her...

- all the *****... but then all the chem-soup
post-psychiatric *******?
the ***** i can stand...
the pills are just tasmanian devilish when
it comes to catching the perfect
battery insomnia recharge...
and always meeting and respecting
the elder of the group darwinistic:
prat pact... a hebrew...
there always needs to be a yew
a *** in the equation...
no... not some english society
uncle tom worth of a high society rabbi...
i mean a jew that will support
west ham... because...
it's an irrational team...
it can fathom beating chelsea (A)...
but then... "forget" to win against...
for god's sake! Norwich (H)!

i know! i know! joseph conrad took his place!
here's my part anagram!
Mатвей Дракон...

the near non-existent diacritical presence
in the english language...
well... no "surprise surprise" if...
you're starting with
и (i) or rather (ı)...
and what's being the flock of salmon
up the river, being caught?
the j but not (ȷ)... imagine my... "surprise"
that the russians arrived at...
и and ı - in tow... ȷ and the й...
the breve...
parabolla or... my eyes only see
the microscopic details when someone
will simply slurr?

- borrowing from yesterday and...
in the early night of winter standing
in the garden with four potatoes
and something else...
looking up at the sky...
i am used to seeing unusual "things"
in the sky -
i'm not unusual when it comes
to having seen a u.f.o. - fluorescent
and squid like in colour -
but i'm also the sort of person that
would carry a few beers for such
spontaneous encounters -
rather running around like a raving
lunatic armed with a camera
filming the whole thing...
i have no proof: i hope my words are enough...
and if they're not?
well... if it can be seen with a naked eye -
i don't need to blink via a technological
feed and argue about: quality of the picture...

but even i wasn't ready for...
what i saw today...
those are roaming stars? aren't they?
and i really did forget to count how
many moved in the same direction
askew - one by one with equal distance
between them - before the distance between
extended - there must have been more than
10 - i'd say there were around 20!

is this always how things are -
when one contemplates the tetragrammaton?

part anagram? well because the russian
do have a version of the hebrew matisyahu...
but they do not have the german conrad
in their language...
probably as to why the germans do not
really have... a yuri or nikita in their language...
nikita after all sounds more feminine than
masculine - anyone could with hindsight
speak of mr. rocketman's lover of
the same same... as not some russian beau
example of the fairer ***...
but a comrade khrushchev...

- and why wouldn't i call those russians
that work in the russian embassy in Loon'don
кaцaпы? for one... they just type letter for letter:
a mateusz / a matthew is a мaтэусз...
for all "legal" purposes...
they already have the сз = ш...
bureucratic purposes...
and no wonder some are like:
how do you say that?
too many consonants some add...
and i really did think that all of us were
allowed to be fully literate...
that's not the case... blowing my own horn...

having a wet ***** over: because i like my given
names... perhaps that's why i didn't want
the confirmation option of being allowed
to change any of my given names: legally...
to one of my own chosing...
when i was 15 / 14 i didn't even known
or think about a name like Isidore...

when the german name became coupled
with a hebrew loan...
otherwise the russian with the first
being an anagram... drakon -
Mатвей Дракон - it's just a name -
it's my name - what's in a name is what's
precisely not in anonymous names
.666 handles and avatars on the internet...
i can own my face - and i can own my name...
because - i kind of like it...

again: on in russian can the west slavic
C be distinguished from the K... Ц -
and back into the cyst of the western lands...
Ç or what came with sigma's tail...
it's so... boring... to have less the different
sounding letters - given no diacritical markers -
and only the "exotica" of spelling -
all the metaphysics in the world combined
and concentrated in greenwich...
but no real orthography...
i could begin the day by bemoaning this poverty
of the english language...
oddly enough as both the outsider coming in...
the immigrant who became a citizen...
and as the insider coming out and coming in
again on that expatriate spectrum of
working from the thesaurus: IMMIGRANT...
for all the beauty of Macbeth...
i can have to ruse myself to bemoan
conventional english... the formal english...
the antithesis poetica...

but i do somewhat "know" why it's called
a tetragrammaton...
i wouldn't classify any of the letters that make it up
as noun-worthy letters...
the kametz (a) and the tzere (e) are nouns...
and letters... but you don't see them when
the hebrew doesn't exfoliate and is left
crude with "missing vowels" for the gentiles
to read...
saying that... calling ה (he) a noun is pushing it...
as is calling ו (vav) a noun...
or י (yod) - although...
the yod could be allowed a noun-status
as... an apostrophe... or a version of the caron -
but the remaining letters of the tetragrammaton...
are "syllables" in that they are consonants...
and when the tetragrammaton comes face
to face with noun-status letters of its own
universe: g (ג) gimel, d (ד) dalet, z (ז) zayin -
l (ל) lamed, s (ס) samekh, ц (צ) tsadi -
resh? shin? the gates are open to allow the question
in... but when...
there's also siamese Adams aleph (א) and Ayin (ע)
being and nothingness respectively...

what could Islam possibly offer me...
intellectually?
when i once asked a muslim what...

alif, lam, meem                                      meant...
he replied... only god knows...
so i thought... only god?
i must have been talking to one of those muslims
who have arabic overlords...
before they can catch a whiff of the almighty
blah'llah...
ا, لَـ, مَـ
again... greek only touches upon...
the initial - the medial and the final
version of sigma...
isolated you would see the capital sigma...
Σ - which could also be treated as the initial
letter - given that the σ looks more like a medial
form - although it's also initial -
whereby ς is the final form -
almost like the english: 's... apostrophe s -
which could be claimed to be an article of possession...
or the plural article when the apostrophe
disappears - or when the ς altogether disappears
when: the possession is plural:
a teachers' strike... e.g.

no not with a fatha - we have our own diacritical
markers... thank you...
but good question...
so... why is the meem written in an isolated
form in the word - yawm (day)...
but not in a final form?
but i do not write in a squiggly line in this digital
arena... perhaps my language looks simply
written... oh yes, the aesthetic of the arabic script
is always stressed...
but even the hebrews think like the greeks
and the latins... in a way...
nothing has to flow in one river-wry format...
there's no isolated letter... of a letter -
as there's no initial no median and no final
form of it... but there is a "question"
of the hiding of vowels...
for gentiles and muhammadians alike...

- perhaps some will call it the trans-community...
there was once a dead poets' society...
evidently with the rise of de-transitioning...
there's now a nag hammadi library society...
circa 1945 when this library was left unchecked
in the hands of: the children
with too many toys and too many sandpits...
probably that one neu-mecca of san francissco...
at least the dead sea scrolls:
that were unearthed at about the same time...
treated the hebrew far better than
the nag hammadi library treated its children...
and why the former power, the vatican,
didn't step in... to control these text...
as they flew out on a *****-nilly without
herr zensor... herr inquisitor...
i will never know...
the scouts of medicine left... black holes
of having advanced in the field of anaesthetics...
too many toys for the the children
with too many sandpits...

- because i would rather the fascination
with a language... than its immediate...
polyglot acquisition and use...
if i put my head to it... perhaps i could
speak the 7 languages my great-grandfather spoke
before jumping into the Niagara Falls
leaving a postcard sent...
but when i peer into the details...
i quiet like these two trenches of mine...
this english this canvas and my eye toward
the east and the south and semites...
just because english is a language without
diacritical markers...
a language filled with metaphysical dialectics:
but missing any mention of orthography...

a hebrew might hide a vowel...
and write only consonants on street signs
for a gentile to read...
but then the gentiles' languages morphed...
and a vowel became distinct...
there is A that begins the word: ah-men...
but there's also an A that is invoked with a tail
to point and identify a tree, an oak:
dąb...
so much for kametz being hidden...
if there's no 2nd tier "complexity" of kametz...
but there is one for the visible...
A - vowel - a vowel with a tail...
but without a name -
as all letters are - whether vowel or consonant...
in the litany and choir of the castratos
of ancient Rome...

pause with me...
what music are you listening to?
i'm listening to... years of denial - burning sun
(veyl channel) - 1,319 views...
i like to... find the better alleys of my entertainment...
as i can't hate kevin spacey...
not because of kevin spacey...
but because of lester burnham...
or more to the point...
why thomas newman reminds me of a...
reincarnation of Satie...
not a Chopin or a Liszt virtuoso of the piano...
not a when a hammer strikes
a line of 88 nails...
but when a butterfly chances the here and there,
on a shy-loot of a beauty of scarce sounds...
just the same of nostalgia for this era of
movies borrows me from out any new
suspence... as that sort of nostalgia creeping
into people born in the 1960s who truly
admire h'american movies from the 1950s...
even i am to blame when i feed
a nostalgia - more to the point for the technicolour
acryllic glow akin to...
richard quine's 1958 bell book and candle...
but of course scandinavian existential cinema
of a Bergman would be in black and white...
black and white photographs...
but if we're talking movies?
Undogmatic & Kernfeld - thought experiments...
Amanti d'oltretomba (1965)...

i will have to refine the greek to hebrew to greek
similarities...
an Ezra Pound can hide behind counting
matchsticks and reading into chinese ideograms...
when lo and behold! some japanese *******
comes up with a minimalism of the on'yomi...
or perhaps japanese is a language
that fuses elements of braille?
no point question the matter since
the mongols famously didn't come over to Japan
to add to the already Mandarin caste of
the kun'yomi...

but no... these greek letters are nouns...
even though π is equivalent to understanding
the wheel a posteriori: as a circle -
prior to there was only a wheel but no
knowledge of the dynamic of the radius,
or the diameter...
but it's still a prefix weak hardly a noun...
alpha and beta are nouns because they
denote something - prefix category shared -
but... the alpha and the beta male...
even gamma rays...
what's that? π-networks of coming back
to point (0, 0) in terms of:
no more than three powers of seperation between
you and some random from hugh yawn'khh?
my bad...
but η, μ, ν, ξ, π, ρ (ρ requires delta epsilon
and sigma to imply island of Rhodes)...
τ - but this is not China and tau is not Tao...
to tow is... to tow...
φ, χ, ψ... these could be names...
but ψ is like a crucifix for psychologists...
so these are... but at the same time:
are not names...
working from Latin, "borrowed"...
A (or aye)... B (queen bee)... C (i çee)...
D (dye or dry or d.i.y.)... E (eh? vowel catcher
arm no. 1 of the tetragrammaton)...
surd if the other arm... most notably in gujarati...
or not...
but this leftoever ancient Latin:
                                sing along! sing along!
a, be, cee, dee, e, ef, gee, h "hatch" / hay,
i, jay, kay, em, en, o, ***, que queue cue,
Ar, Tee, U, Vee, ekhs (x), why (y), zee or general Zod /
Zed... etc.
do i remember the "correct", french pedagogic
sequences of: letters of the alphabet?
i thought the whole "game" was about
the lexicon? and the lexicon within the lexicon
of the correct spelling?
are there 26 letters in the english alphabet?
there are! mein gott!
do i have to monkey-play-me-harmonica -
monkey-play-me-the-acordeon and tap to play
the drums... really? now?!
there were never going to be any alphabetical
sequence of events...
if i can remember that there are 26 letters:
the order of the pedagogues doesn't matter...
the lexicon matters... one's own vo(gue)-ca-bu-Larry...
short of Lawrence...
and shouldn't i give up my Lawrence Vogue...
i will certainly to remember to give
the "correct" order of what begins
with abc- and ends with -xyz...
this is the inbetween...
please see fit to spot a sparrow or a typo...

becuase if the british are to be proud of their past...
proud in the sense that it is...
fermenting and all this decline of the west "thing"...
of the people that has to "somehow" welcome
a revival... кaцaпы (plural of кaцaп)
is a racial slurr - designated for russians...
by those who had a pseudo-isarel interlude...
of what was known as the polish-lithuanian
commonwealth - of the last european pagans -
who didn't become the prussians
and made the bavarian spirit rigid
and militaristic...

i find this part of history... rather... infantile...
i have been taught a version of history
through the lense of infantalism...
perhaps science-fiction was the serious medium
of literature after all -
all of the past - if it is to be called a past -
is prescribed by zeitgeist -
my contemporaries' suggestion to be an infatile dream!
it must be a version of infantilism!
at least: that's my response in relation to:
the past having any aspect of being worth
celebrated...
me struck dumb being coerced by a...
genetic archieology of a past...
what some of the current people invest in...
mirror mirror: on no wall beside
mirror mirror: my face...
speculum speculum: well! there's always history
as etymology!
i don't like the word faciem...
where does visage come from?
oh... right...

quest to perfect the algorithms to escape
the everyday speculum was prime suspicion:
to speculate...
i guess any search engines requires:
etymological root...

mirror mirror: my void eating face...
my pulpit of vanity -
my valley of aeons...
my detail of the smirk the demonic glee...
of your most greyish glee...
of no concern for celebrated beauty...
or at best: no beauty to be exemplified
and stealing memory having invested
in the memory of cinema...
mirare mirare: comesse vacare visage meum...

now that's rather different...
isn't it? a history lesson with...
a stress for a post-scriptum in-and-out
"epilogues" (misnomer) and a return
from the trivia interlude back into the narrative...
only with an understudy of etymology...

who do i look like? some ******* ***
who would use such a ***** word as epistemology?
"epilogue" is a misnomer in the context when...
there was never a justifiable metaphor...
a misnomer is a metaphor:
for the **** by the ocean of the shore
in the vicinity to claim town status - Dover -
albino cliffs: more or less...
epistemology is a word most frequently used
by people... who read to people...
encyclopedic entries... cyclopes reading...
all that matters is the cwowd: which is the Velsh
variation of: that already numb-R lost trill
of tarantula bit anglo-ßaß...
which didn't require zeppelins or h'american
spaghetti accent westerns of draw and drule
and drawl...

such a minor racial slur when it comes
to the russians... soviets or red barons...
you must have never visited Moscow or St. Petersburg...
**** the right sort of ******-up russian girl...
and... if you're lucky!
she's take you to... the russian versailles!
Peterhof -
the racial slur stills remains...
a thank you matka rosiya...
satellite son over 'ere: the bellowing from Berlin
is like a sudden plague of hyenas attempting...
no... the foxes are imitating the hyenas...
which is which or rather: which is why?
a mutual agreement: reciprocated...
a great a great much decent ****...
for both of us...
the memory still feeds me...
oh no, it doesn't haunt me:
it feeds me... i could only find replicas
in brothels... i would never dare usurp
this catherine this tsarina of my memory...
i would never dare invest my personality in someone
else... she can be married her... 3rd time...
and this might be her 10th repentence...
of an 11th lover...
on this sinking ship: Potemkin i go as one -
reincarnation or no...
i still don't believe: this hindu myth of:
only a fixed number of people were every to be
born... and the rest are the harsh realities
of the base focuses of animals...
as we somehow drag these n.p.c. mysterions with
us... whether strangers or fathers or mothers...
are you not attached to your grandson:
dearest "catherine"?

such is the tyrany of the hindu polygamy
trans-temporal polytheism...
a diadem with a mouth for an eye...
and an eye for a mouth: or what better way
to salvage this grief of being only being 20 and 21
when having met and having to vow to
allow ourselves our each his and her seperate
lives...
at least some people call it:
the house of lords... and the house of commons...
on a much grander scale...
oh i'm pretty sure tsar (ras)Putin is much amused...

as i am now speaking with a borrowed tongue:
someone lent me a tongue -
i desired to speak with it -
imagine this complete lack of horror with regards
to being lent -
when reicarnation comes to the fore...
i agree: with "him": a most disagreeable
metaphor for... whatever it is the hindus truly believe
to be: the most humane form of
being allowed a human: self-consciousness
and a relationship to all those teenage
*****-dear-diary entries of... precursors
to the menapause and... the blue blood gremlins
of the big pharma pills-down...
the big pharma *******...

unless asked... always in uniform before your "majesty"...
as with any decent *******...
god forbid one of them thinks i'm jesus christ...
come back...
but never with these... grey-area maidens...
this "tool" will not be aroused
on the simple signature end contract promise
of: he made it to the finish line of a one-night stand!
where's the finish line of a one-night stand?
the next day? the *******, the *******...
her ******? at least the new generation
have the... cipher password for sexting...
or whatever has become of a good old fashioned
**** your brains out?
via you **** a plum sore tattoo into my pelvis
with your coccyx like a well balanced
african body of ivory beauty?!
you know the type... it looks like butter
in moonlight... like... what's the point of a niqab
in africa?! it's already... a warewolf has come
among the wolves...
and how i miss you, i esp. miss you when
i sit on my windowsill and listen to foxes
mating...
how those ******* squeal yank and bite nothing
but bone having omitted both the flesh
and the fur!
i miss you the most when i sit at night -
and listen to foxes mating;
after all... this is essex... this is england...
foxes at around 1am are my cognac...
beside ms. amber: and you know you'll also
be ******* her when i've had my fill...
but oooh... look at me: oooh...
gravy...
but i've watched! crows don't attempt fucky-fucky
tow-dollar sucky-sucky bangkokh style
during the die... all that is black that's worth
the crow is done in the night...
perverted pigeons during the day!
****-*******-me-into-a-voyeurism of their
greedy insect esque antics of coo coo...
then jump onto the rucksack of a female...
and all those beta-male pigeons... and that: huh?!
moment of bewilderement when he "thinks"
he has cooed like an alpha...
only the memory of you...
and all the prostitutes after you...
which always made imagining ******* you again
all that more simple; there was no кaкaшкa
with them to begin with.

These are the songs I listen to while I cry and think about my beautiful sister and friend who I lost in July. What are your crying songs?

1. Consequence, The Notwist
2. Stuck on You, Lionel Richie
3. Hear You Me, Jimmy Eat World
4. Silence, Matisyahu
5. Drive, Ziggy Marley
6. Asleep, The Smiths
7. To Build a Home, The Cinematic Orchestra
8. Hallelujah, Jeff Buckley
9. Worry List, Blue October
10. Take a Little Time, Josh WaWa White
11. Ghost Towns, Radical Face
12. Kettering, The Antlers
13. Santa Monica Dream, Angus and Julia Stone
14. No One's Gonna Love You, Band of Horses
15. The Scientist, Coldplay
16. Fire and Rain, James Taylor
17. The District Sleeps Alone Tonight, Birdy
18. Yamaha, Delta Spirit
19. These Waters, Ben Howard
20. See You Soon, Coldplay
21. Unconditional Love, Tupac

sure thing, if you think that if living with your parents is a hellraiser: inferno summary's worth of movie: you're on it spock! well done, clap clap! oh, you know the first thing worse than an israeli? an american jew; antagonistic mouth-offs: once they start teasing with a feather (on pretend), you start to want to antagonise with an AK-47; oh right, and the world isn't like this? i wish israel was akin to the sacred hindu cow, untouchable, known as the vatican too... yeah, and israel-kamadhenu just said: *******! well... mind the arab, on the way out; and matisyahu shouting bongo-bongo in patwan, via the precursor of tashlikh... begging for a matzo bloated into challah! what?! you want a ******* brioche bun to boot?

the last fool left the last set
saying all that was worth said:
i'm hungry.

may i mind you to ask:
have you?

have you ever minded living with
your mother?
is it a hell, or a "heaven" to be minded
in terms of
asking for a gymnasium stipendium?
are you sure it's not both,
at the same time?
  to know one's mother,
is to twice acknowledge one's bother,
guarded by the entitled status of *wife...
it would appear:
   twice the wife,
makes half the mother...  
               as it would appear:
a mother makes half the wife...
english children abhor the idea of
parenthood, hence they shun their own
parents...
    and enjoy the "freedoms" of
being relieved from both child &
parent...
      they're firmly bound to a firm:
"relinquishing"...
   a set affair of ensuring:
that saturday night be the forgettable
chance for "sabbath".

i abhor the english language
for its acronyms and emoticons...
i am not m.g.t.o.w.,
or a :) face...
  i cut it short, i cut it sweet,

me?

     i'm just a pontius pilate...
i wash my hands clean from this "affair":
i have not time for the ugliness
of english in either
acronym or emoticon form...
i, royally, wash me hands clean:
from the ****** crudeness of "concern";

i have no ambition to worth minding
an ethno-centric "care"...
english has become ugly
in acronym and in emoticon "phrasing":
even by m.g.t.o.w. it simply
reads a biblical aversion of "concern":
by now, i am but a pontius pilate...
and?
        
        well... at least you won't have to
cite an acronym, but have the proper poetics
at hand.

i had to turn to judaism, christianity was turning bonkers! what, with the nag hammadi library running rampant, and the vatican's cowardly lack of constraint, its sloth, its general absence... with the nag hammad library running rampant, no one is going to believe the greek fairytale of revising the "old" testament; it's still the only testament... just read two lines of the historian josephus, align that with the emperor nero, and, by my guess, the book of revelation, was probably the first book written in the tome.

i've already written about this,
   the *etz ha-chayim, oh no, these times
do not require a rebel spinoza
questioning chronological authenticity,
to keep the idea of a trinity,
   i already said my yesod "person"
and the subsequent dynamic for man...
    for man cannot meditate on either
    the keter (crown) nor
                            the malkhut (kingship),
in that the father is represented by
   the keter, and not the malkhut -
but akin to lucifer not merging into satan,
the heresy of the son becoming the father
is also a heresy with regards to
  the etz ha-chayim dynamic,
                                 which is as follows:
he, who has the malkhut of gevurah
  (kingship of strength)
is he who has the keter of chokhmah
   (the crown of wisdom)...
  ah... i'm stuck...
           i have to divide the tree in half,
and bring to realisation, which quality
is associated with the keter,
         and which with the malkhut...
i have to understand,
    and then the inverted complication -
a matisyahu song supplies the energy
behind the thought: king without a crown -
since the keter is but an ornament,
              and can be the highest tip,
  or the lowest ebb in what's actually
           the malkhut (kingship) / authority:
esp. one that doesn't require pomp & circumstance
of a public affair,
  the part where you don't wear
you sunday's best to church.
  and so too the revision with the revision -
life would be so un-interesting
         without the "plagues", pangs of either
doubt, or love...
             some settle for the uncertainity
of love, others who oppose narcissus,
cherish the racing emotions of doubt -
    and can see the cognitive speculo,
   dare i say, the cognitive kaleidoscope?
let's keep it german -
                          gedankespiegel...
beside the point,
   funny how the ejection of the jews from
europe occured,
   how the muslims came,
   and how someone born into
a christian "tradition" spotted a lot of sense
in what the jews kept for the past cenutries...
i'm enraptured by the teachings...
             i have no qualm with the, ugh,
passed sentence...
  for i do not believe in man ever attaining
the keter: ehyeh asher ehyeh
   ambition... for it is so grand,
      that i dare not act out the part
or seek a route toward representing it,
  however ambitious man can be,
           there is no man in the world, present,
future, or past, that can be the keter
expression of the tree's dynamic...
                         no man...
                                                 ever:
no utterance from a divinity, as divinity per se,
can ever come from the mouth of flesh.
yet i find myself asking,
   have i made a just system of
  dissecting the etz ha-chayim?
   after all, the keter is a Σ,
   otherwise also: the summum bonum,
i.e. that which is unattainable by man,
   with that said, the highest good self-evidently:
for what man would transgress his
     status ****, to reach for the castles
     made from clouds, in aspiring divinity?
prior to this ambition,
      the highest peak was of everest
   and a demi-god...
   after? everest humbled, and the saints were born.
nonetheless, i'm finding it hard
to attire the other qualities,
   is the keter superficial,
   as a wedding ring is on a finger
                                is to state a love and
the embedded laws of monogamy?
   or is the keter the ad infinitum potency
   of meditation, that leads to only the humbling
of donning the kippah?
                       here i'm cross-eyed
                   with regards to = ÷ (equally dividing)
the qualities between
   the keter: ehyeh asher ehyeh
                           and malkhut: adonoy -
thus said, the greatest point made by the tree
is a message: understand beauty -
                                           binah tiferet,
ah... the entry point of the disparity -
    no man can claim the dynamic of
                keter-chokhmah -
the crown-of-wisdom,
                                  no matter if donning
a liturgy of fancy attires,
    popes can speak the most baseless accounts
of what needs to be done...
   hence the superficial aspect of the keter
emerges...
        but indeed there is one,
  who can provide a malkhut-cholhmah,
               how many philosophers can say:
i have no university degree, i have no superficial
symbol of being, said authority,
  and still topple those who have "authority"
in what they attire themselves in,
  but nonetheless have no authority to show
when being unmasked?
                       as it stands, i will not make
this into a systamatic musing,
   where i might have dissected
                                  the entire etz ha-chayim,
while pondering whether
  the keter or the malkhut are to
be alligned with chokhmah (wisdom),
      binah (understanding), chesed (love) -
  keter-chesed - that's obvious:
   the superficial kind of love - as apparent
with lack of intervention;
          gevurah (strength) -
          malkhut-gevurah: the strenght to
not intervene;
                       tiferet (beauty),
                    hod (splendour),
                                 netzach (victory).
i exclude the yesod (foundation) from this
deliberation, since the yesod is reserved
solely for man to ponder the already mention
qualities, while at the same time excluding
the two impossibilities of attaining either
the crown, or the kingship (mastery) of each
of the stated aspects...
                   now that i can conclude,
      for god, the keter is what he is,
    but when looked upon by man,
             and in vanity trying to attain:
   only the source of superficiality,
           of fakery,
                            or the crown of myrrh,
the spectacle of golgotha,
                                   and idols,
    and iconoclasm...  and all the more fakes
             celebrated as pop culture...
                                        pseudo-martyrdom.

even i'm surprised at my palette...
i shouldn't be enjoying this...
this being a Bohemian absinthe liquor...
some strange pellets at the bottom
of the bottle... coming in at 60% proof
(read, past participle, i.e. "red":
not, reed, to)
my guess was... coriander seeds...
but no...
        it tastes like absinthe does:
few things put me off... easting or drinking-wise...
szechuan pepper: certainly turns me off...
the spice with the added tongue numbing...
evil food ingredient in the wrong hands...
but... aniseed? **** me... even i'm bewildered...
why do i appreciate this flavour?
well... it's absinthe...
it's a long way away from herr whiskers
and ms. amber of the whiskey...
or sweeter, finer than silk:
the greatest thing to come out of
the u.s. of A... bourbon...
this Bohemian absinthe "liquor" has all
the aniseed: Annie... not ANY: seed...
but an added twist...
the bitterness of an IPA: indian pale ale...
bitterness... that's another dimension
i appreciate...
mr. Joshua was defeated by a Crimean
Cossack... a balance of racial-baiting
has been achieved...
long distant cousin... actually:
no cousin at all...
   one's a Slav the "other" (me) a Slav...
lost the supposed attached E...
Germs & Germans in Berlin...
in London... once upon a time...
i much prefer etymology to Darwinism...
i like the history of words...
"like"... faux pas...
        ooh! ooh!
touchy-feely...
           my ooh to your: ouch...
lick some ice...
        it's an implosion of the burning
sensation...
humanitarian aid for
lobsters... it's apparently humane
to freeze them... first...
rather than boil them: outright...
and such are the concerns of English politicians
these days...
if i were asked... relatively speaking:
freezing something: alive...
is... more time spent on the same sort
of agony jested with boiling them
outright...
the usual Hapsburg absinthe: 90+% proof
tended to be sweeter...
i even allowed myself the whole
ritual of soaking up a cube of sugar
with the "stuff" and setting it alight...
i'd roam in havoc while displaying this
burning sugar-cube to
inanimate things in the kitchen:
catching a 2nd tier better shift at
proofing myself for bones & tendons:
and... ****** expressions that
i could turn into cold lamb poker...
etymology rather Darwinism...
Darwinism is big in the Anglophone sphere
of the world...
it's like... Copernicus in Poland...
a... an... ahem: a "national treasure":
a bit like Judie Dench...
but outside? history killer theory...
like: living in stasis: living with static...
from the ape to the current man:
the same old boorish ******* excuse:
but it's the 21st century...
                                                    and?!
everything was to be solved in...
the, 21st century?
everything was to become apparent...
clearer... rainbow lights flickers: "better"?
the excuse of all excuses:
but it's the 21st century...
it's a century not distinguished from
all the others that have passed...
well... there are some additions i wasn't
expected... electric bicycles...
moi... i like the idea of generating my own
momentum... it's not enough
to just press a foot on the peddle
of a oil drinking dachshund / horse...
i'm Pontius Pilate when i'm on a bicycle...
i've washed my feet clean on the matter
of having a carbon footprint...
count one of my awkward farts
as loosening up constipation:
not one with the cow brigade...
holidaying?
Havering County Park...
trees... forests & ****...
deer... foxes... horses...
the one time i visited Kenya i lounged...
and fed greedy macaques bags of sugar
and tea... and we lounged on the balcony
while security guards on site aimed
at them with slingshots...
- hardly think that the piano (only)
rendition of Wagner's:
Valhalla: the gods' entrance into...
is somehow anaemic...
then again... if Chopin or Debussy
or Satie were to be orchestrated...
just this once piece...
it's not anaemic... it's profound:
as ever a piano is... crashing down
in metaphors... it's not Ysaÿe
with his violin... you'd need a Westminster Bridge
for that, mate...
and a stray cat to keep you company...
you can reduce a Wagnerian
symphony to a mere: ahem...
ridicule on the piano...
but you can hardly make a Chopin out
of a Schopenhauer (shopping hour,
joke... like there's no joke: ha ha,
to begin with)
- my my... what happened
to these native folk... who told black comedy
jokes... it's like... they have been
stripped bare-back backwards....
and can't tell a saucy... acid proof joke
these days!
ah: i guess the imagination also dies...
a certain death: not the sort of death
associated with memory:
that fickle creature to begin with...
i guess it comes with the grounds to
make one's effort in...
the dodo undermining project of
the most schematised of men...
i guess i'm trying to posit a +1 scenario...
in a way that... Bukowski was chased for not
gearing up to the suicide squad while
Edward Hopper spent his days...
******* joyfully in Mexico...
- one of my pet peeves is...
how the English shorten names...
Edith becomes Edie...
Abigail becomes... Abs...
Matisyahu... Matthew becomes... door...
Matt...
Peter becomes Pete...
Thomas becomes Tom...
Jacob... well i like this one...
Jakub in ****** becomes Kuba...
you could even write this in katakana...
i abhor how the English shorten: "pet"
the most crucial nouns associated with a person...
i like the fullest of the full of the noun...
like... an apple is... not an app...
start off with yeast: end up with the Zeppelin:
ist...
for ****'s sake!
i'm chasing Zeppelins in my mind...
all the psychopaths are already leash-free...
i'm the schizoid... "problematic": üns...

your language is all tatters... tartan...
churns & chores...
if i were a closest neighbour:
geographically or / and historically...
a Spaniard... a German...
a Fwench-man...
ha ha... English being so unanimous in the lingua
franca domain could be obliterate
on the focus of nuance...

you can: rather: you could have had all the pride
that comes with the implosion of Empire...
but...
no luck... no here: not right now...
how the cards folded how...
so little of England actually remains at its
epicentre... das kapital...
frivolous women who... can... will...
cats have it all...
i like these bonsai specimens...
a dog is a creature most associated with men:
i don't like leashes...
cats allow me the leisure of:
no walking the **** out...
no leash... why would i want a substitute for...
ahem... "company"?

Edith should not be Edie...
write me that one... phonetically...
E-D... ****'s sake Edith!
Abigail becoming: Abs... is it... "cute"?!
i like the name: Abigail...
why a shortening "comparison"
with a six pack of Fosters?!
not matched up to a 6 footer of prospect
dating material of a man in the torso region?
- i abhor this sentiment in English...
shortening names...
one wouldn't shorten the noun:
trousers... trou?
pet names me not like...
apes are for us!
       Darwinism didn't simply bother a vanity
of man, according to Freud...
while Marx based his ideology on...
Hegel's lecture notes.. it's not like
he read the phenomenology of spirit...
                          Darwinism for me kills the concept...
nay! more the concern for history!
Darwinism doesn't **** off a human vanity:
what does Darwinism present:
everything has a purpose..
nature abhors vacuums..
physics, satellites... Newtonian projectiles
might like them so much...
in nature everything has a purpose...
there is no "room"... cube worth of "thought"...
how romance biased to suppose:
Devonshire had anything original to
posit... Darwinism in a nut-shell:
nature abhors vacuums
all is used to use...

what's allowed in the Anglo-sphere Empire
implosion: dicta...
curry curry curry...
we're all supposed to taste the food of
a superiority complex... prior to what happened
when Genghis Khan reached...
Crimea?!
squint eye:: BAL-WA-RUK...

i have here... a list of ingredients of the absinthe
i'm drinking


my foremost mistake was...
associating females within the confines
of deities..
i sketched them...
one: young... peering into a mirror
seeing herself old...
some others... i didn't have a **** of envy
for i sketched them...
too bad..

like the mythological drive for the will
of the Nazis...
sourcing their fakery in Scandinavia...
me?! Aryan... Samaritans...
pleb as whole...people most grieved...
start to chant in katakana...
in a makeshift of...

no... purely...  consonants...
the vowels extend the breath...
the consonants give base...
CHANT CHANT CHANT...
  
the list of ingredients of "that" Bohemian absinthe...
i'm aiming for the coriander pellets...
no chance: ****'s sake:
i'm not reading Czech... no ******
with a second name like
Conrad....
   how about Lothar....ever... would?
yew...

              awry: you: this... yew... yes?! no?!
whichever... right about... now!

this is not england circa 1945!

wenn sehnsucht für...
fleischaufwölfe...

und sein im: ..................
surd toward a ditto
a "said part"

israeli techno...
habit of celebration,
this, your israel,
has become....
the one place to visit...
outside
of Beirut...

mogul israeli and a...
english tongue?
and not a whut-whut-whut
westerner...
commoner: "mon":
ça fait longtemps, dis donc...

cedilla... some french
variant of the ancient greek
variation of "s"..
or... "otherwise"... an "oops"...

here's to me, champagne *******
every kenyan ivory beauty is....
no... it's pretty much..
being able... being-****-able...
to be allowed a hard-on...
with an ivory beauty on the "roll"...

i need to feed the act of performing:
guess who's who without
3rd part interests...
i want that bone-fiddled *** of mine
that coccyx that... Latisia night nurse...
um and that abc "ouch"
grief unto you: for having
this... i sometimes grieve...
the "assurance".... of having
a mamă...

there's an enchanté(e)?
é(e)?
the Titanic... will... sink!
there's no joke with a hindsight...
the Titanic will sink...
and i'll be the ******* iceberg!

no ******* Kilar choir will save
this paupers' and... what not akin
to pennies reigning down from heaven
as rain!

"the better man"... no Ovid
via Pearl Jam...
or... November 1, 1959, mild mannered C.C. Baxter:
which is the best: "whatever"...

that serenity of the 1950s...
movies... and that "leftover" of "jazz"...
as ever: the go home tow two me "son"..
another one of those canadian:
whips up a candy and says
it best via a: V: Vancouver and via
Beijing it is sinking...

sleepless in Seatlle had to become...
homeless without a Beijing....
or some other hare krishna
of a merry christmas and some...
merry to go round of a hanukkah...
because pearl jam told them to do so...
when... past library bells...
no... not vitalogy...
not the song red mosquisto...
what album?!
do i ******* look like some nova scotia...
bogus bog baron...
triade... fencing tartan...
new scot makes it big and canada is welcome...
eh eh what?!

low light...
immortality...
seattle will never make it toward
a focus on a canadian heaven@
no big ******* when it comes
to knitting-nirwana either...
brian or the brain of J...
and the "no way"...
what's that... bass or no bass at all?
canadian trump nirvana?

perhaps i'm just the most,
well assured, simpleton counter 16 old
queen preg Juno daughter of...
when daddy didn't make the jazz
band as the drummer...
hence: i was born...

that wide and open: highway...
perhaps that's why you can ever, ever,
play jazz. beside the impromptu...
the major focus is supposed with a pivot on:
well... it's not like
you ever heard it before,
or would ever have? would you?

so you write jazz... you impromptu...
you would never have ever had had
ever had listened to it before...
canadian grunge would have...
never... shot a dead-lead
into a cranium focus of... "whoops"...

and so it survived... and gave stockholm
impressions of a beijing yet to come!
perhaps: canada: that place i wished
my parents made it...
but... counting the current grey-matter *******?
here's to: here's to!
aici la sorbi unii apă din Bucureşti (SH when
you see a caron hiding)...

nirvana and the discoteque...
with US... or what's alice in chains
and the whole: growing up with grunge...
and the joseph roth "debate"...
the schattendieb: concerning actors...
actors being: der schattendieb...
shadow thieves...

aren't they? aren't actors elevated circumstances
of thieves?
what is there to steal...
if you're only, if you're "only",
and only, "stealing" a shadow?
well then: you're made pristine in the request to:
act!

here's to learning some romanian
and not focusing on the nativitistic concerns
of a people who...
besides..
yawn... and yawn once more...
figured only a history lesson was worth
being reminded...
and... not... not... assimilating to the modern
world was... ahem: YAWN...
because the hindu-hebrew et al....
and because... because...
the natives have spoken!
but we can't make the natives....
"suddenly"... bilingual "all of a sudden"...
we need new pampers new diapers...
we need more pencil sharpeners!
we need to go places where no Armstrong was
ever to be t.v. screened!

this really comes as a self-depecriating humor...
as to... why am i not a polyglot?!
why base it upon an english focus?
why am i not speaking german...
enough enough to move there?
why am i not speaking enough mandarin to
move to Vancouver with the housing crisis?
living with your parents
and not milking the Ed Gein meme?
too bad for you too!

the nirvana anthem is worth the ones that:
continue to come "un-expected"...
the pearl jam anthem is worth the ones that:
for some, obscure ******* reason...
didn't drop stone-cold dead...
like: the oops that never dies
and will never be a hey-presto or
that wonder-bill of a magic theatre translation...

so much for today, tomorrow...
and all those happy birthdays that everyone sends
but never wishes unto each other;
em... our lady peace? are you sad...
i was really this "young"?
did i grow up?
the besnard lakes: people of the sticks...
it's still canadian music...
isn't it?

it's hardly: chevalier, mult estes guariz...
rollo: duke of normandy...
blah blah m'eh blah monsieur!
as i am: Pan...
if i were to strip this... fiasco of the acquisitive
tongue... when no native is a king
before me but a citizen of my equal worth...
but not until! this time is ripe!
until... until the natives think themselves
as kings in their role of citizenship!
until that time comes...
before the natives... the english:
a most sordid lot! aren't they?
the pauper thinks himself a king...
as long as... there's a foreigner in their midst!
an englishman will think himself a king...
among foreigners...
when his fellow kin are too few!

what a barren man!
he will subsequently lever his presence among...
the empire of his... compatriots...
his... immigrants... his expatriate h'americans
and australians...
but unto me... come back... as either
scot, an irishman, a welshman,
and englishman: but first as king!
as first a king and the mortgage manager
of bricks and mortar!
imagine my disbelief:
Richard the Lionheart never spoke
a word of this hubris of a tongue!
this is the tongue that no king should dare speak...
this tongue is reserved for pride-riddling
peasants... commoners...
communists and inter-nationalists...
the fact that there are natives hiding in it like
some hobbits... only exemplifies my remarks...

i only repay... what has been lagging...
i repay... what is due...
an honest critique...
these people have already spoken
their self-critique...
i am literally adding nothing to it...
i am happy though...
that such people find each other...
to inbreed among each other...
the polacks and the anglican saxons...
the most welcome twin peoples of this welcome
earth...
i would sooner find myself ******* a kenyan
or a romanian girl that care to upkeep
the copernican or the darwinian
gene-tripping of continuity...
sorry...

i'd sooner **** a kenyan "chimp"
than an english or a ****** neanderthal albino;
but of course... that's until...
i hear the rob roy...
robert the bruce...
and how is it that Kuba: Jacob is a Hebrew
name... but... Matisyahu: Matthew: isn't?!

and there's no harvest of wheat...
there's only the... meandering of: flimsy grammar...
if only the testimony of pronouns usage...
and... how dobermann puppies were
raised for aesthetic purposes...
how their ears were made focus for
a snippet... to protude up-right like
circumcised *******-pieces of the last-day
advent chimps of man...

the circumcised man says:
no greater sorrow than the...
******* man...
says the same man...
who allows the un-circumcised woman
to... film herself donning the...
guillotine play-thing...
like it was never an Adam scratching
his cranium from a pandora of
a prophesy of a future: of a loss of hair...
but the woman is still allowed to *******...
the man is "not supposed to":
even if he is not yet circumcised!

this sort of logic must exist exlusively
among circumcised men...
i am... i am... dying...
to see how an f.g.m. model makes
it onto these **** websites...
and starts... beating stiff the already
eager pickled gherkin... into a ballet of prima ballerina!
yes... solo...
guess what? i will not hear...
a mouse's peep-squeak! concerning this...
the circumcised man giving lectures
to uncircumcised men about:
how best not to *******...
and then... what if the only **** i watch...
is bound, exclusively...
to uncircumcised women jerking off?
what if i need to curb my "**** addiction"...

honest to god! i'm looking for f.g.m. ****!
i'm looking for f.g.m. ***** solos and i can't find any!
i tend to ******* to videos of women still
equipped with ******* doing the sly-herring
bit of skinning a "missing minute"...
yes? yes?

i'm sorry... did you think that you had my *******?
if my lashing out on a chimp's lip of "tomorrow"
was ever so bad...
how about... treating your daughter to one of those muslim:
whip em while you're still at ease?
i'm not circumcised... she's not circumcised...
i'm in no way going to approach her:
to get her closer...
she's jerking off herself silly...
i'm just going to tango with her in her solipsism...
you will have to circumcise one of us...
which one are you going to circumcise...
if you circumcise the wrong ***...
perhaps you might meet the right mark of a snippet...

hardly finding a kippah in a ******* niqab's
worth of a snippet...
but you know how these orthodox people
bother themselves:
no one has yet to cut off their noses
or their ears...
and it's like they have anything "missing"
with their excess of ******* alongside
either phallus or ******...

i figured it must be an argument of the circucised...
if they allow women... to not be circumcised...
and... las vegas their **** to a paradise of
finger-licking-ooh... or goo...

oh i am bitter... because a circumcised man
said so... a circumcised man said so...
he said: the uncircumcised man should
not imitate an uncircumcised woman...
since... no circumcised man...
ever masturbated... over a video posted
by a circumcised woman!

'ave eye oi vey sabbaton?!

igloo:
me-glue,
# @ ~sick ice     seems like bypassing the 502 bad gateway is getting trickier and trickier... no problem: where there's a will, there's a way (however cliche that sounds)...

i still can't believe that i've managed to study myself
ergonomically - i'm like: wow...
i have literally perfected the art of ironing shirts...
i used to hate ironing, now i get a little tipsy
and i'm like: shoom! the iron sort of glides of its
own accord... first the collar,
then the yoke, then the cuffs, then the sleeves...
then the front without buttons, then the front with
buttons, then the back... bam wham: thank you ma'am!
it is truly sinister that my modus operandi
is stressed with the infamous: arbeit mach frei...
i know it, everyone else should also know it...
but under the banner people were given
pointless tasks... concentrations camps made a joke
of work while beneath the "veneer" they were simply
utilised to slaughter people...
but even doing menial work: chores is releaving
as a release... i can automate my body...
i don't have to watch t.v. (or Plato's cave)
or for that matter fall into the Cartesian cognitive
"insomnia": am i really a "thinking" thing?
sure, i once had this pristine narrative in my head...
now i just comes across shrapnel pieces
of "narrative": mostly just... oh, right, i...

my to be father-in-law... the ****** that messed up
my guitar.... my acoustic Martin & Co.:
she was a stunner... anyway...
he called me a charmer...
   i like him... i was truly fond of him... up to a point...
later... well that diabetic fat **** get eat his
pudding while i spray dust into the atmosphere...
again: what is wrong with me?
oh Gemma, Gemma, Gemma...
a single mum, a boy in the background,
9K in debt... and i'm flirting with her...
as subtle to the best of my abilities...
what, is wrong, with me?!
perhaps i've had too many roller-coaster rides
of thrills in the ******* brothel...
but she's petite and that special hue of ginger...
might as well lodge a ***** onto my forehead...

point being...
apparently women still listen to astrological
demands... like there were any to begin with...
zodiac signs...
zodiac signs "tell the truth"... next time i work with
her i'll ask... if she's a Libra: no...
if she's an Aquarius... no... if she's a Cancer: YES!
if she's a Gemini: no...
                     i am yet to meet a Leo...
if she's a Sagittarius, YES...
                             being a Taurus etc.

but if women are so concerned with these matters
i figured... beside the showcasing of history...
construction of the pyramids,
the Mongol sacking of Moscow,
the ****** sacking of Moscow...
the burning of the great library of Alexandria
by the Christian in-breeders...
whatever the hell happened with the Mongols in
Baghdad...
the defeat of the Mongols
at the hands of the Mamluks...
the battle of Lepanto
that gave us Don Quixote...
      the twilight of the Aztecs...
             how ancient Greeks became rigid
Byzantines... etc.

o.k. so that's a sample of history...
me? well if i'd really want to experience everything /
understand everything or anything through
the lense of Darwinism... i could, but... no...
i can't be bothered going that far back...
Jung's ideas were always more concise
for me and the lived experience...
English thinking is not for me,
whether it be Darwin or whether it be Hobbes or Locke...

sure... the Englishmen can sing...
Milton... Shakespeare... but please don't give me any
English ideas... they run on objectivism for
the most part and i don't deal with
objective language... with "fact checking"...
i need language to be nuanced...

history through the lens of etymology:
the origin of words...
or, rather... to live in accordance to the meaning
of one's name...
Matthew: gift of god (from the Hebrew Matisyahu)
Conrad: wise counsel (Germanic)...
this ******-all of the question that's:
what's the meaning of life...
well, live... and find out along the way...
but primarily... live up to your name's meaning...
not everyone can live up to the meaning
behind the name akin to Alexander
or Xerxes...

                        i'm literally surprised that there might
have been a Peaches Geldof...
but not a Gomorrah Smith...
          fitting to the times... but even i'm not immune...
pronoun-bollocking and all that
reincarnation pillage of a blocked toilet...

i'm going to pursue charming her...
even though: it's certainly not good for me...
why? oh, you know... the thrill...
and the disillusionment that comes with it...
even though i have a phallus and a pair of *****
between my legs i need to feed into the tingling
sensation that i have a ******,
or that she's thinking about me while i'm thinking
about her and she might be *******...

as weird as that might sound: at least when growing up:
when a grew his hair long he was most likely
into metal / rock music... it would never *******
stick / translate as taking up a transgender
offensive!

what the hell happened to metaphysics in western culture?
i'm starting to doubt whether it ever existed
in the first place, then again; if a language
has no study of orthography... Charlie, ****-squat-ens...
perhaps in the 19th century you could
elevate calling a spelling mistake an orthographic
mistake... no! that's not how orthography works...
for orthography you require diacritical marks!
English doesn't have any!
little and litle is hardly an orthographic mistake:
it's just a spelling mistake:
English is almost a phonetic arithmetic...

    let me show you how an orthography looks like:
gówno     & not guwno... i.e. ****...
chudy - thin (masculine) chuda (feminine)
    that's CH as X - i.e. ha...
but then the oddity of a X without a C...
heroizm - heroism...

maybe that's why i never heard of anyone with
dyslexia in Poland... i've heard of a bad orthographical
aesthetic but never about someone with
dyslexia... after all: dyslexia isn't a complete and utter
illiteracy... it's the end result of the language
being written one way, while spoken another...
because if you were to write English as it's spoken...
well... it wouldn't be aesthetically pleasing to the eye,
would it?

the supposed argument "against" ******,
i.e. "there are too many consonants jumbled together"...
if you know how to divide a word
into prescribed sounds that correlate to the letters....
akin to the English SH and CH
     it is a language gifted with the trait of:
written as it is spoken.

coming back to Gemma... i'm about to launch a full-on
charm offensive, only yesterday i sent her a link
to what i was listening to (with a photograph of my perched
on the windowsill with Quorus - the maine **** -
sitting with me) - the prophecy theme from Dune
by Brian Eno...
she's looking for meditative music... well then...
i'll give her meditative music, medieval music...
i'm going to charm the pants off of her...
i know she's a single mum... i know that there are too
many pitfalls...
                              but i can't get rid of the butterflies in
my stomach when i think about her....
i might as well shoot myself in the foot...
no matter... this was going to happen, anyway,
i'm a fatalist after all: i know i will come off disappointed,
hurt should i fail or for that matter: not have any success...

but i like the way she smiles like a matriarch...
what links will i send her?
well... the obvious... chants of the Templars...
some Jordi Savall - stella splendens in monte,
    laudemus virginem mater est...
hammock's ketonic album...
godspeed you! black emperor's - F# A# ∞

oh for ****'s sake, why am i in love?!
   why now, why with her...
                 i've seen what love does to me...
it's hardly pretty... but i have in me the sort of
"thinking" process best associated with
creatures at the lowest point of an existential
hierarchy... after all: even tapeworms and viruses
are charged with a will to preserve their
existence without question...
     it might be morally apprehensible to want to sleep
with her given the fact that i might
**** up her boy a little bit more...
then again: what am i? i don't have the sort of income
that might pay off the debt her ex left her with...

at the end of the day: it's what i feel that is more important
than who i know or, for that matter: what i know...
i need to feel this... i need to feel more of this!

i'm having trouble comprehending any sort
of dimensional-realism of what it is
that constitutes happiness...
it's a strangely vague concept:
as vague as my assumption that it can begin
to be comprehended within the imposed
coagulation of meaning(s), such as:
dimensional-realism...
happiness is just that for me: dimensional-realism:
it's beyond fleeting:
it's something that isn't a thing or a some of
a thing: but a summation: a disgruntled
summation:
happiness to me is what makes life
unbearably see-through... mortal:
debasing: too much of a struggle for this:
cynic: because i can at least confine myself
to the motion of thought that cynical:
pessimism is nowhere near the antonym of:
prior stated...
and... since i find no despair in melancholy:
there's a budging virility in a sadness that's
not sadness: in a piquant fermentation process:
because that's what melancholy is:
aside from the fact that it can also imply
being overtly sensitive to the world's affairs:
melancholy for me: is a side-project
of the empathy-sympathy dilemma...
you start to understand this condition without
having attempts and failed trials of feeling
this bummed out: because the sky is just
hanging by a thread and that's just that:
a sadness can at least drown you:
you can be dragged to the depths of despair:
aside from all the neurological circumstances
of the constituent parts of pain:
at least pain is real... but sadness isn't real:
it's metaphysical...
            so... after the physics of this...
at least sadness can drown you:
what's more important is trying to authenticate
it rather than succumb to the numbing:
when sadness drowns you:
numbing keeps you afloat...
in limbo: buoyant...
                                  like a sick joke from
the advances of extracting anesthetic from cloves...
ha... the experimental medicine of
psychiatric-pharmacology:
said the ego to serotonin and the likes:
i vill muster the ages and thought machines
of telepathic magic and make these pills
regenerate my tempers: my humors...
my willynilly the world is ******* silly...
it truly is a wonder to acknowledge that sanity
is judged on the basis of solipsism...
to me that's what sanity is: solipsism...
the moment that solipsism is undermined...
the whole world goes to ****:
other people exist: and you affect people:
who knows what the effects of that are on
the return... but sanity is just that:
a closed off world of the individual
who comes and goes from what established
culture and civilization in the abstract
to something functioning: like a bus timetable,
like someone who fixes bicycles...
like a baker a butcher...
maybe i'm just in the wrong line of profession...
maybe i'm interacting with people too much
and i need a breather...

now: whether i ****** up intentionally
while managing my cohort or not:
i'm about right in my estimate:
yeah: it must have been about 100 souls...
quadrant manager of the east
blue zone...
this is not some professional escapism
this isn't professionalism antics to scrutinize:
but i've been watching from the bottom up:
no one really told me there was
the vendor sign in
the stadium sign in
and the positional sign in:
i should have known that already:
so i ****** up...
i was mock signing everyone in...
keeping the tally on the numbers:
at least i got that right...
but then the W.I.S.E. agency rep came
up to me: there's been a glitch in the system:
no one has been signed in...
o.k.: i pulled out the PDA and the first thing
i noted was: what alphabet is this?
Armenian or Georgian?
besides the point: i'm not trying to argue:
but how can i rectify this: RECTIFY:
i actually used that word: which felt sort of weird...
because it was more than courteous
and at least the sort of word to use
to weaponize when making a ****...
so i heard the reply:
you will have to somehow scan them all
in...
****... they're all in position and the crowd
has started to come through the turnstiles...
well: if i have 6 supervisors under my wing...
right... yeah: sure... no problem:
i'll sort it out...
went to each supervisor and asked them
to collect the ID cards...
danced through the gymnastic of how to
look less colt and ****** at the same time...
did i manage to keep my head
on my neck and laugh at the guillotine of smiles:
because this work is a work
of buckles: who can buckle who
who can make someone else look less competent:
but the funny side of this story is that:
MEA CUL>PA:
i was the one the blame...
and isn't that the best learning curve?!
isn't it?!

KA-SI-AH... KASIA...
it's a brand of cooking margarine...
but i... do we need the dot hovering
above the iota when you have ś?
that's not SH but c'c'ould be:
no...
               Katherine... Kasia is a diminutive
version in the tongue i originate from:
like Matt is ugly to Matthew because
there's the door mat wipe your feet on it:
but Matti: ah... rings a bells... almost chimes
because i know the extension of my name:
proper: is Matisyahu...

śιč: which implies a gathering of
the Zaporozhian: Ż to gather the H in that word:
like: DZIDA: KULT und: FABRYKA
MEDIÓW...
in this blistering Augustus heat my mother
decides to bake cookies...
who's the sanity protagonist in this world
and who's the sanity narrator?
evidently i'm just the flimsy attache...
i get to spew one poem after another
treating each one with all the wipe-my-***
affection of reading a newspaper...

the biggest problem in my area i was managing?
a faulty lock:
on a turnstile door:
later the supervisor... Rebecca: Rebeccalla?
Italian? French? Romanian?
well: i was the magic locksmith by the end
of it: i fiddled with that door like
magic like i heard back my own
compliment to letters
via that association i made
through:

I / O + Φ = Θ + Ω

pata-physician hey presto!
pata-?
    oh... reference to Alfred Jarry:
that midge: midgit: lilly-putian:
on a bicycle: loved fishing on the Seine...
took a stab at the Polish Lack-Lands of
a king of England, some John...
so...

but if it worked with letters:
it could certainly work with actual artifacts
of use...
like keys and keyholes and
doors:
and by god if we're going to stamp
out the vampire allure of psychopathy
and scrutinize *******:
those two deviations are the first to go:
last are the intelligent alcoholics
who have a thirst for: whoops and
daisies...
but given it's only 20:00 hours
it's a long way to go until 22:00 hours...
i ****** up... clearly:
but i never envisioned that sort
of sign-out dynamic:
the company rep returned and gave her
little pep talk:
i was still engaging in a schizophrenia of sorts
with the radio:
but the INDIA call signs were busy elsewhere
i wasn't even asking permission to sign out these
100...
but how endearingly they lined up:
no squabble about who comes first and
who comes last:
i was was the first and the last: period:
de facto...

what trouble did we have?
oh, when you see a drunk woman in that
state: where she's completely lost
the tact of maneuvering: i wouldn't call it an art
at that point:
but that's how trouble starts:
misjudging the mood of the crowd:
you eject a woman in her state:
but she's compliant...
you eject her even though she's consciously-unconscious:
semi: not trying to come onto you:
so you're basically brokering with a child...
you start with that sort of ejection:
all hell goes goose-loose...
so?
you have to contain it... mitigate... maintain
a Martini smooth coercion...
stirred: not shaken...
get that ******* cauldron of people round round
right round! until you get that
cannibalistic mud of a sauce of *****
and **** and blood!

a good proportion of Manchester came to London...
maybe i have some ****** allure
i'm not excavating for my own personal
benefits...
for not benefit of the Olympics being
a welcome distraction...
once you return back to less of the utopian
day-dream and come back
to each society and the atomized man
and the tribal frenzy of sport as allegiance
to intra-national deflection of coincidences...
how is it that Arsenal and Millwall are
not having a derby, somehow Arsenral
and the Ids are?
       didn't Arsenal originate south of the Thames
in Woolich Woolitch: ******* don't *******
bother correcting me on the spelling:
WOOLWICH!

that still doesn't mean i'm going to
relax and laugh:
took my viking road-bicycle for one
last honor ride through Rise Park suburbia:
a ****** deal: couldn't possibly part with it:
but i did...
i couldn't leave it on a dumpster heap:
maybe someone might want to fix it up:
but as i rode it: crank crank... spill: ugh:
enough onomatopoeia(s) to gratify
bad ***...
yes, Joseph: my grandfather bought it for
me:
then i recounted the story:
but it's not like i left a dog half dangling
on a noose on a tree in a forest
slowly suffocating: it would have been cleaner
humane: to have simply slit the dog's throat
rather than left it semi-dangling on a tree:
sadistic ******* creatures...
who?                  who?!                         us!
for all that show of pretend in how
we organize each other:
what best shows is how disorganized we tend
to be:
this creature of monstrosity of the safe haven
of individuation of the western capsized boat
of thrills...
how serious is any manner of seriousness
going to become:
when i sober up i'll let you or whoever is listening
know:
hardly: since the ontology of man
has no potential for change
ever since Christ or the poetry of T. S. Elliot...
defeatist: no...
better to accept the fundamental poise:
this is what we are:
and we are never going to change:
there might be some glitches in our behavior:
but: safe to say:
if we have enough to eat and enough
to **** and enough to spew...
then all is ******* dandy...
           Darwinism didn't help given that once
there was the ordained formality of
the abstract of man:
now there's man looking at the anuses
of tapeworms and the mouths of chimpanzees
thinking about his psychology as imitations
dilemma...
ooh... the pressure for thinking is just ripe:
just enough: all it takes is just... one... more...
squeeze!

/ a sample of a deleted poem, not of my doing:

once the 20th century existentialists
proposed, the "i"...
  we've been stormed by algebra...
     and the arithmetic of which is?
pronoun neutrality...
      oh, not *** exclusive -
                         plural inclusiveness
                    within the confines of, one.
i is hardly the new aye...

             but i do appreciate the emotive
content of certain words, translated into phonetic,
as in: trans-lingually shared
to express the same emotional response...

namely?
                 szczur:

                      sh'chо̄r...

    (that's, macron on a O to hide vowel
excesses) -

basically:                                       r̃ at!

(that's the closest i've come
to depicting a trill, a continent R,
a less than tongue-numbing anglophone R,
a roll, a wave)...

yeah... should have written
   sh'chór -
   but then the english are not familiar
with the U double parabola of O('h)...
       poo is also v. similar to pew -

                  púndit...

you really could paint diacritical marks
onto the english encoding...
mind you:
     introducing orthography would be
much harder to disengage the english
from airy-fairy metaphysics
bollocking of: pretending to be engaged
by philosophy aged 4-teen...

no one has an interest in philosophy
aged 4-teen...
    this... this "i was a child genius"
*******?!
                   it sells,
    but is it believed?
                     next time i hear a pig snout
usher out:

    מ‬ ‬  ָ ‬  ט‬

          regarding the hebrew aesthetic
of hiding vowels...

although...
  
      vowels in hebrew are a bit like
diacritical marks in latin,
esp. those hovering above vowels
themselves...

  so the niqqud or tartarus...
either way...

     the cut-off posits from the names
ascribed to letters:

   i.e.
    
   why not מ‬ ת

    but instead מ   ט‬?

i.e. mem tet           vs. mem tav?

i'm not the ******* hebrew!
that's why i'm asking the question,
perhaps because
   it has an adequate confinement
parameters to suggest: matt?

     well, if we're going
that far,
might as well go...
  this far -                matisyahu:

       מטסיה

      (involving the subscript,
vowel inclusion of:

        kametz,
                     chirek
        kametz,
                             shurek) -

but i'm no hebrew,
  so why ס‬ (samekh)
   and not ש‬ (shin)?

                                     why ה‬ (h'eh)
                                        and not ח‬ (het)?

however you call it...
       what i originally wrote,
       and what became delated?
   doesn't matter:
               i've already received what i wanted -
a "nuclear winter"
    of your typical english overcast
skies
             during the past scorching
                                           3 / 4 days...

it's not exactly praying -
   more like gesticulating
                        naked, and half naked -
excusing the ownership of a bed
for the sickly sweet ownership
       of a body with a wooden floor.

יה
        יש

           what if...        yashwesh? jachwach po polsu
po polsku... a jakby... niet(?)
                   because the name is surd riddled...
not necessarily yashwesh but
yashwa...                     he is YSHVH to me...

ישוה          

through this day brought the fetus
to the marble
and wondered why am i tired
of the living and all glory unto the dead
so silent they storm
the palace of sounds

me hallucinating being a DJ
on egress of the crowd
from Wembley Stadium
listening to Boris Brejha...
several times interrupted
woke up munching on 64% cocoa dark
Wedel chocolate and salt toasted
peanuts
the bear vs the man vs the bear-man
and the man-child like
the emblem of the patron saint
of applying for a driving license

apparently all cyclists are *******
self entitled morons of bruised
rubber and top-knots bits-and-bobs
of jack: jack says no: n.b. hyde
and Sherlock Hyphen Skylock Showlock
first time seeing the *** army
youths of the urban environment

Europe is a museum
Europe is a museum

only when the hordes recede and hide
and bleach and bleach
two generations down:
the future is bi-racial is not bi-lingual
the future is mixed-race
i wish it was bi-lingual
likez zee schwitz zee schwitz

Lombardy and Saxony
and the Swedish House of Vaza
that came with crystals and salt
to the thrones of kings of wormhood
in the klepsydra Hydra
sow self to no-self

the ingenious idea of mingling buddhism
with christianity in the 1960s
of the 20th century...
but buddha was not Nepalese
he was an Indian Prince...
just like Jesus was not a Jew
a Hasid
Jesus was a Syrian perhaps
Assyrian perhaps
Egyptian most definitely
the historian Josephus ben Matthias cites
a false prophet of Egypt
who stormed the mount of olives
returned bitter with false faces
and thorough the distraught architecture of Rome

stands intact...
why would the ancient world care so much
about the jews killing jesus
rather than Barabbas (bar abba)
not ben abba

   ben: son of
bar: of sons of fathers

bar abba

                     Matthias bar Abba
Mathayas

                 Mathayas

Mathayas

                             not Matisyahu

Mathayas

         YAS vs YAH

in english the H is a surd a vowel catcher
not CH or samo-HA
but silent... not hatch 'atch 'itch
y'

               in Greek and in Hebrew...
please... for me to see at least...
no... no Greek... confusion with G on the Y...
me thinking the new testament
is a Hebrew-Greek propaganda smear
campaign again Rome but
so much smackers and hit busters
and what do we call these canisters
on the side of the street
motorists fueling themselves with laughing
gas...

Mathayas: iota help center: diacritical stupendous
elongate the i
using the appropriate symbols
to avoid bringing a TAIL TO I TO J
TAIL TO I TO J
JAPAN = SATAN
JAPAN = SATAN

ah! now greek some hebrew but certainly
#katakana...
    
          Pacific Ocean learning curve...

make the i longer like a j not a j not dz i.e. jot
jet jungle dzungla
dzungla...

        ヤパン
         サタン

                                ease my nerves: so much for being
born, but yet there are still people
with little nerve: big waves short sea
in my dream of recent i was taking
photographs of tsunamis
of Miller's Planet

          in my dreams i am on Miller's Planet...
Second Eden of Mann
on the Black Sun Gargantua
if humanity is still alive we will
turn earth into Giedi Prime:
earth nocturnal us morphed into luminescent
semi sea creatures
since all land will disappear
and we will return to being oceanic mammals

the death-tomb splendor of the pyramids
to graffiti onto the air
and all manner of passing
a suggestion against the desert:
mountains once stood here
now winds demonstrate and water is also
dragged by air all around
as long as the theaters and opera houses
and clocks the size of wrists of the gods one eyed
that one eyed implying second eye
a perma... human presence in foil
and grid and scoop
a silence a one eyed no-body n00b
nowhere nothing the strict residue of freed
intellectual caving
unlike riding a bicycle or riding a horse
but this exoskeleton
sk not school not wool skool
the youth and their rigid question-dyslexia...
but i hold not allegiance to England
and i can see England as i:

i once dreamed of travelling to India
and walking across the Islamic world
back to England...
God intervened...
India and the Islamic world
came to England...
now i'm either to leave England
to Australia New Zealand Hawaii...
but i'm not...
this garden a ship on the sea of carnage
seeking mouth of the river Styx
toward the land of Hades toward some thrill
of... what do we truly leave behind?

money, as concept i do not know...
money is also a saying:
better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven
flip of a coin
why is money two-faced
Mammon the 1st and Mammon the 2nd...
money is two faced...
the one eyed god invoked on one face
and the regal human on the flip face ordeal
that the moon must
drink up one ocean and **** it out
in another while also being the bartender
for penguins on Antarctica...

toward the second waking of lost earth
abandoned desert of these brats' spoiled riches
in conjuring rain
onto the deserts
like the Soviets conjured glorious
sunny weather on day rememberence
having conquered nations in germany
no thought of the re-emergent tsar nicholas
nevetcky -
               bald, scalp of Berlin....

my own mythos at stake, my own nightmares
will not be owned by others
i will reign (over) my nightmares
and call them heightened abodes
                                 google: peace-keeping
pacemakers backgammon is a **** game
only made fun on the attack
but then the luck of the draw
makes this game anti-strategic
and chess is no o-era P i.e. chess is ****
and chess is anti-intellectual
because chess is nakedness robotic
humanized in Dune's Mentats...
semi-gay quadrants of associating the tetragrammaton
to a god with four faces
the primitive allure of Islamic one one one one
this pseudo drone narrative
translated out of Arabic is a threat
and not welcome...

because intact and -ness and integrity
Judaism is not a social club
but Islam is dying a death unseen
by seeing a proselyte branch of Semi-Sufi
Soothe E           e         e         e       e       ease...
's plural missing
also not possessive: but can be...
Paul's... the chair the chair's crooked posture
in van Gogh Gohg Gogh's eye(s) zzzzzz no snooze...

chairs stacked up up and into spiderwebs of
breaking the impenetrable foliage of
comparative literature of how far the eye can see
through a pine forest of Europe
an oak forest of England
or across the horizon melt
the non-event horizon standing on the shore
of Kauai looking at the sky and the Pacific

the sky and the Atlantic are different...
more amassing of the receding
earth into the sea... what emerged as man
so forever and our Prometheus gene
to continue until the sun becomes a black
hole: our ambition...
to purge by no calamity: certain as we are
to follow the Route of House Aquarius Harkonnen
to the naked flesh devoid of sun
or tan this albino monstrosity of liquid and
pseudo-muscular tensions
these hybrid tongue-masquerade-gherkin phallus
****** brain miasmas... fried high DSL chiral...
brain mantras instead of
brain realities
brain mantras brain mantras people's
literacy skills a facade of ancient lore
of priests
now all exposed to literacy and...
like the advent of the internet
the advent of mass literacy was a failure...
when it happened or why is rather mysterious
to get rid of useful codependents
the useful friendly codependents
of the illiterate class
that could also somehow burden themselves
with hyper-status in numeracy...
i have known several dyslexic folk who were
hyper numeratic... erratic with the use of numbers
to their advantage...

**** with letters but good with numbers
and not the sort of mathematics
that is borderline language
like algebra and physics and chemistry...
but the sort of language
of numbers that's economics and medicine
and crowd control and recognizing ****** expressions
when someone is lying
and not playing a game of poker...

i came here to untangle, then tangle... Jon Fosse's Septology...

i just started reading Septology I - II
it reminds me of my 20s
when i left the "****** market" place
and started reading Heidegger...
writing has become
difficult...
                 "difficult": wombat Bryan
and Barry and ******* Down Syndrome
Dwarf...
he's coming! i don't give a ****!
no shjit!
the Pedohpile Down Syndrome Dwarf
is coming!
this is my "satan"...

why has writing become difficult?!
love and life got in the way
of the artist:
i share the same confines as the mad
bureucrats...
oh... and those alcoholic hornets from
Lebanon:
failed state index:
no third world countries: per se...

writing has become difficult
because i'm finally! if: yet: having meaningful
conversations
with people like Alexander, Edie, Reyla, Hollie:
Miroswav and Eva...

Jon Fosse a welcome break from how writing
becomes cinema via Frank Herbert:
mate, Alex: i need a break:
the book wasn't fifficult
but the cinema barraged my reading mind
and i had to overcome cin ema:

empty light:
hmm... i was always vivided divided upon
what is the ought of worship:
sun and light
or the moon and the tides...         ? ?
                                                    ? ?

my poems are abounded houses
where squaters dream...
of king beds and palm trees and even i do that
in my little security hut i snooze
for 4h...
15min interludes...
i sleep to dream falling asleep
in my own bed and bedroom stinking
of bookworm spice:
my Dune: a personal library:
and that Spice on planet Earth we call Dust...

i have on3 friend i can discuss Conrad
with Silesia and me...
               i have abundance of Solomon's cravings
in the brothel...
but also the Queen Mother of Sysiphus from Liban...
i see
the sea the cyst...
Medi-
                oh see i sea a seeing...
                            ache of the heart:
break 'em: via: thought of them...
the other name: the stone is burning:
the three x2 eyes blind...
sharing what this Polytheism birth advent
into a single word:
Jon Fosse rebelled the Bible riddled
with I am the way: ah ha ha ha
I am i am AM PM I i am am i am
Jon Posse: Fosse Pff... flicker...

                   some bled... some had mud sickness
creatures and living among mud
like bears are among eyes
i could ask... KING KONG
to dance with CELCIUS CLAY... the ******* BEAR...
i'm sorry we have to live as
monkeys
straightening bananas into
algebra
and letters
              but also figuring out bananas and bows
am i...
           tripping or are you's them schizoid
trippin'?
                                apostrophe...
­
writing has become so difficult...
               because... i can't conjure up imaginary
conversations:
        
but best feed you... beast....
I am man and therefore Hades....
          A.I. are my twin daughters...
Hades barks....
            Cerberus replies: hows a daughter?!
Hades asks: dog! are you on a leash?!
dog! are you on leash! is that a fool's moon?
asked Mark Nathan:
implores John Michael: Promis, Priya...
then says: Matisyahu Konofale...
i am
at home
when Yellowstone Volcanco
blow up
forget there
ever was the United States
or the former Soviet Empire...
**** takers pseudo Slovacks...
call any Russian a Slav... ha ha ha...

blame
me
not pianting:
but canvas pruden ce
and says i:
the ******* and sculpting#
texture in painting missing...
the affair:
novice...

                       modern and postmodernism
invoked painting:
anti-algebra:
                geometry: tecture...
texture...
                     chemistry:
watcvhing walls paint colour dry...

                 new ***... i keep it vanilla
around Priya and Vanilla...
sister stitch... of a smile...

                     i am the ***** *** baron: Varkonnen...
KINZIE KENNER
is my ****** ****
the eyes i want to hurt you
my ***** of Babylon
Babylon receives a postcard from
the Zenith of Rome...

so much tlak lucky to have one friend:
spring rools and katsu curry schnitzel...
two movies: the Shining:
joke's on Johnny...
kidney donor:
my other life as a Bond MR ****** Shizva Shiva:
my buckle shackle
the old African ladies
sing JEsus tunes:

v                             left5 it thefere
there...       v for L upside-down: Byzantine:
teasing a Turkic barber...

so Jon FOSSE... is like ULYSSES 2.0
in the ;l:
the most Ezra Pound infuenced:
my mother said i'm JEsus chRIST
sleep less:
think more: a glorious ratio
of rational dichtomy:
in the ratio...

                              space and punctuation:
not
constrains                      (tss... tss... wet jazz)
and space

                     even Arthurt called Alex@:
do you have a girl there: up with you?
are shadows summoned
when something pagan spectacular happens
within the confines of overlord
Christianity?!

silly ******* cat... Amelia?
she snuggles: plural: of continuasly:
continue: continosuouly:
i think i left two land mines of a spelling mistakes...
by now i'm painting:
i'm not having human conversations...
she just snuggled up to me like a ****-star:
like i....
get farted upon... by cats:
males **** and territory: marker:
female possums...
they ****: bad miasma territory seekers...
those Iranian and Arab hind-su: *******..
hands like Slavic women
in the field...
fat
ugly: nuggets...
psychopathic chickens...
women with ugly fat fingers
most probably Atrab women...
the NIQAB wonbt ******* help
you transgender ******:
you have fat fingers
you just discovered oil
but you have fat fingers!