.reiteration... em.. you're not internet providers... are you?! the best you'll ever be, is, software *******... you're about as invested in hardware, as the mafia is invigorated by mainstream politics...******* wankers... you what?! huh?! censorship?! who's supplying you with the copper wires?! you?! ha ha ha ha! how about getting leg ***** by a mongrel tongue... and considering your type of companies, as, serious, "mediators"... no hardware... just a software monopoly... ******* **** wasps! you almost want to cannibalize their presence! like... ever taste bone marrow? these "companies"... are teasing a taste of bone marrow! i want to eat something... these, companies, forgot, that, they're, not, service, providers! d'uh! and they're making the dicta?! inch copper **** making all the rules... what rules?! they don't make the rules... they're not hardware enforcers! they block my presence, i subsequently return to over-exemplifying using the scissors, counter the computer! yeah?!

em...
but you're not BT...
British Telecommunications?
the hell is up with these
software nuggets?!
how can google,
facebook,
youtube, ban, someone...
when they pay...
for their hardware provider?
did, said companies,
pay, for the copper wires?!
i'm pretty sure the answer is
no...
    unless you've not been banned
by authentic internet providers,
but, rather,
banned by content creation
mediums?!
       **** 'em!
           **** 'em silly!
         they do not actually
own access to internet
provision, i.e. ACCESS...
they do not own
the armory
of copper wiring....
that connects the dots...
*******!
BT or SKY or ******
pulls the plug,
you're all out!
             you get the
differential "bias" against
the format of software
contra hardware?
no?
            there are,
internet, providers...
there is the hardware of
occupational hardware user basis...
these companies...
censoring...
have a software stature,
without a hardware status...
   want to rephrase the thesaurus
to concern yourself
with legislative phraseology?
      really?
     me? can't be bothered...
do it yourself,
VEGAN dietary requirements
and... whatever.
but you can't deny someone
content provision...
when they're paying for
an internet access...
these software companies
do not have to answer
to governments...
they have to answer
to hardware providers...
   internet access deposits /
access points...
            not governments...
hardware instigators...
    oh, really?
    software censorship?
   if there's no one using
the hardware?!
              good luck...
and a goof ball speeding!

these companies, who are exercising
"depth",
of the parameters of conscription
of legit consent?
   they have this amnesia...
this amnesia...
of...
   not being hardware utilities...
i.e.?
   a comic book...
without the printing press...
   savvy?
             now i'm mowing down
eyed
    claustrophobic eyed -
   horses running,
with shutters on their eyes
for the added advantage
of tunnel vision...
   that Bane scene equivalent...
    with the quote -
  crashing this plane...

"who" are these companies
to dictate,
"correct" internet usage?
they're not internet providers...
to begin with...
   if... a company like SKY...
or BT... or ******...
obstructed internet access
of a person?
  i'd be nodding...
    in a coherent access of
agreement...
    but...
      these websites are not
hardware, they're software...
see the difference?
they're not internet providers...
they're pixel blank bulk anticipating
canvases...

unless there's something
wrong with the original idea,
of an un- investigated
genesis of a pixel blank?!
     can i make this an issue
with your, internet provider?
i don't like you excluding
the content of the content
that is a blank pixel anticipatory
excavation wait...
   sorry...
  
   i don't like you miscarrying my
payment of internet access...
having censored interactive outlet
canvases...
   i pay for one... i pay for all...
   can you please pay
the proper amount of
compensation to the hardware
companies that provide
universal internet access to
the full spectrum of internet users?!

namely?
BT... SKY... ******?
yes?!

Mama always told me that he was a no good,
rotten, lowlife
son of a gun

And everybody knew to stay away from him
when the alcohol was running
through his veins

Really though
It was all my fault
For tripping down the stairs

And miscarrying the baby
A bright blue baby boy
Came out silent, so ****** quiet

He was still and tiny
It broke my heart in two
seein' his tiny blue hands

We buried him under the oak tree
In the back yard
right under the swing

I loved that swing

My husband loved his alcohol
and hated my incompetence
and liked to leave some marks on a woman

But I loved him
with all of my aching heart
even with all the bruises that shaded my skin

He was the best thing
that ever happened to me
I took all the beatings and the nasty words because of it

But when he brought home that woman
Well, you'd guess I was pretty upset
But I refused to go down without a fight

So that night I lit a few candles
Put on my best nightgown
Waited for him in the bedroom

Even managed to clean all the dirt
out from underneath my fingernails.
I was in the garden all day

After all it was hard work
digging myself up from under
the old oak tree

Truth is
I can blame them for breaking my heart
I can scream loudly and tell of  how much I gave
My loyalty, my heart, my love....
Everything my father instilled in me
Though nonsensical, truth is, sometimes the very best is not desired by them
Truth is, signals of disaster went ignored
For the thought of life like the Cleavers
Fairy tale of 50's era love
Blinded by the immediate
Disposed warnings of the past
Miscarrying the trust of my future
All to live in the now
Now, this moment of smiles
This instant where laughter prevails
Exchanges of lured glances
Mine escaping as i'm exposed
Emotions spill over
Secrets, I cannot keep
Excitement at the possibility of him
Weakens the walls
Eventually they  tumble
To reveal what was once hidden
While his...yeah his... counterfeit at best
Simulated exercises
Maybe all to arrive at what lays below my waist
But I sensed....
Thought I saw a glimpse....
Betrayal that's plagued me all my life
Always present though from it I desperately flee
Easier to disregard than to affirm
Warning bells blaring
Managed to convince myself they were bells of the alter
But how can I blame them
When I surrender myself for slaughter
Melting into the arms of a dangerous stranger
Not heeding the voice of my father hopelessly screaming "WAIT"
I lunge into the sea of possibilities
Only to end up carried by currents to the sea of broken pieces
Shards of me destroyed
Truth is my pain is self inflicted
Never has my father not warned before the storm
Force myself to look in the mirror
Truth is..I always knew the truth
It was much more comfortable to live the lie
Truth is
I can blame them for breaking my heart
I can scream loudly and tell of  how much I gave
My loyalty, my heart, my love....
Everything my father instilled in me
Truth is
I bare responsibility for the tears I cry
I stand ashamed and disheartened at my truth revealed

I'm miscarrying. I'm losing a Child I could never have.
I expected an abortion and what I got was a second trimester.

I feel like everything beautiful I could ever say to you,
Everything that could truly add up to your worth,
You already know, and I have never even said them...
Except with my eyes. All I want is to have
And to hold.

I feel you have always known me.
Like a little piece of what I am has always been in you
And everything you are has somehow sunk into my
Conscience, my soul. When I am around you,
I feel I have a soul. Remember? An entity. It's really there.
People like you make me hope hope hope TO GOD that there is a Heaven
People like you make me pray pray PRAY to someone I don't KNOW that we, as a species, can finally transcend and become something MORE.
People like you make me BELIEVE that there is a possibility
That humans can be the epitome of goodness, and tenderness, and responsibility, and care, and equality, and pensive, and love.

I'm honest. Everything will be fine for me:
It's fine that I'll cry
It's fine that I'll feel depressed
It's fine that I'll feel unwanted
It's fine that I'll feel neglected
And rejected, and pitied, and inadequate...
Because these are all normal human emotions.

But before this happens, what about...
How long we can gaze at each other?
What about how perfect our skin feels aligned?
What about what those moments made you say?
Remember the contentment? The beauty in us
Just being there?
What about you wanting it more than I did?
What was all this? A precursor to a let-down?
A build-up and a sudden realization of the fact that we are two separate people who feel completely comfortable as a single whole and you can't handle that right now?
Because I could understand that.
And I would still be here for you.

But for the record...

I feel like if this universe were to open up right now
And time melted and disintegrated into dust
And oceans began screaming and violins exploded
And swans sang choruses with choked voices
And volcanoes erupted, and bombs fell, and echos stopped
And all the bells in the world forgot how to ring,
That my last dying wish would be to run as fast as I could
To find you. And then I would hold you.
And I would hold you as this world collapsed.
I would hold you until my hands grafted into your skin
I would hold you until we were but skeletons arm in arm
Splitting into thousands of pieces from shock waves
I would ****** your spine with my fingers until they collided
Until the world split directly in half
I would rewrite constellations to spell your name, PROUDLY
I would cry blood into your soul and you would know what I REALLY FEEL.
I would squeeze you so hard that you would HAVE to understand and tell yourself,
"These are the very last moments I will live."
And, without speaking, my lips would reply,
"SO LIVE THEM WELL."

And always the silent smell
Of music follows
Each time his name is mentioned
Never justice,

Covered in ignored pleadings
With pinpointed accuracy
Constantly kicking
The ladder away
From his freedom

Evidence suppressed and misplaced
For 16 years
In cross currents
Of ignored medical reports

Miscarrying justice
And innocence
Constantly brushed
Under the carpets

Drawn back on curtains
Across hospitals
And your bedroom upon release
Which eventually killed you

A terrible crime
With two victims.

finally... i managed to note down
a solving dynamic of
a # sudoku...
  which was always a # to begin with...

at no. 10,149:

   x    x    x    x    5    1    x    x    x    
   x    x    3    2    6    x    x    x    x    
   x    1    x    x    x    7    9    x    6    
   x    6    x    x    2    x    x    3    x    
   5    3    x    1    x    x    x    x    x    
   9    x    2    x    x    x    6    5    x    
   x    x    7    x    x    5    x    8    x    
   x    x    x    6    x    4    1    x    2    
   x    x    4    x    x    x    x    6    3    

hell... could have been miscarrying
the algebraic Chi with
a 0...
         how about a sudoku
using letters instead of numbers?

how about A B C D E F G H I?
after all the ancient Romans
only used:
    I, V, X, L, C, D, M
hydra of the book of revelation
beast...

that sort of sudoku would be fun...
**** me,
i wanted to write out a sequence
like this for a long time,
but i forgot the linear narrative...
here's me having found it,
by coincidence:

well.. if the French revised the alphabet..
let's make the consonant to vowel
ratio equal...
when it comes to sequences...
  I, V, X, L, C, D, M, A, E...

   x    x    x    x    5    1    x    x    x    
   x    x    3    2    6    x    x    x    x    
   x    1    x    x    x    7    9    x    6    
   x    6    x    x    2    x    x    3    x    
   5    3    x    1    x    x    x    x    x    
   9    x    2    x    x    x    6    5    x    
   x    x    7    x    x    5    x    8    x    
   x    x    x    6    x    4    1    x    2    
   x    x    4    x    x    x    x    6    3    

solved...
given the following map:
sorry, in linear form,
no coordinates...

   3 6 5 5 5 6 7 8 4 5 2 9 2 1 3 5
   1 3 1 1 1 2 3 3 6 9 8 8 8 9 9 9
   7 8 4 8 9 4 7 4 7 7 4 4 4 7 8 8
   2 2 7 - 8...

****... i'm drunk,
i made such bollocking mind of mistakes...

i was never going to keep up
though...
did i solve the "puzzle" though?

   7    2    6    9    5    1    3    4    8    
   4    9    3    2    6    8    7    1    5    
   8    1    5    4    3    7    9    2    6    
   7    6    1    5    2    9    8    3    4    
   5    3    8    1    4    6    2    9    7    
   9    4    2    8    7    3    6    5    1    
   6    2    7    3    1    5    4    8    9    
   3    5    9    6    8    4    1    7    2    
   1    8    4    7    9    2    5    6    3    

maybe another time...
when i'm sober...

    but it would be nice to write a linear
narrative of,
what, constitutes,
a compressed version of:
.       ____________
      /                       /|
     /                       / |
    /.___________/   |
   |.                      |  |
   |.                      |  |
   |.                     |  /
   |. __________|/

yeah... maybe sober next
time...
    it might make a lot
more sense
filling the blanks
of the puzzle...
and writing...
a... "narrative".

evil comes to the conclusion
that:
           if it's not a res cogitans...
then there's
a res vanus...
         that's in need of being
filled!

             only recently my
algorithm reach for encompassing
a touch-with-a-"history"
has been blockaded...

      i find it harder and harder...
to view a video,
beyond the 2016 and the 2017
arena...

     A.I. is what gave us, man,
in an S. I. environment
                (synthetic intelligence)...
something that composites
a continuum,
     rather a stable posit to work
from...

        the easiest route of
miscarrying, exploitation;

   what? existentialism wasn't about
the hyper-exploitation
of punctuation marks?!

      dumb dumb d' dumb
  drum roll...           expectation.

god looks at the use of language,
per se,
   not at language, used,
with a per se, and a subsequent
usage of,
             without a per se!
                            becauase, how on earth...
am i to make a humanist
statement...
                 by "over"-complicating
the said, use,
                       of using language?

can poetry even become a mediator?!
membrane!
                    well, **** me!
hands tied behind my back scenario?!
            tiananmen sq. "whoopsie"?

death by a riddle...
  or death by pachelbel?
    ****'s left to right right to left
when using the basic hand-"gesture"
of expressing a papyrus
          "tattoo" of a handwriting?

eek-onk?!
yes... becauase there are no
pigs in the desert...
  which i buzzfeed use
to offset a lack of salt...
       ******* copper,
brazen with melt choc. "aura",
sultry quacks of a melody
requiring a choir
             of transgender *******!

can't exactly look at a sunset
having "acquired"
the current socio-pathos
conformity narrative...
it's like watching
a really bad hopak aversion
to a take on performing
ballet...

    oh... so bad for the toes of
ballerinas...
    what about the cossack knees?!

never mind the handerchief...
what about chaos theory,
butterfly, hurricane...
                 and the sneeze?!

surely the world cannot be
unfathomable,
yet fathomable...
   within the confines of
a metaphor...
              a non-"literal"
      ascription of: losing count
of the number of given examples...

A.I.?
  what? the argument to express
putting a ****** on
a circumcised phallus?!
   i don't mind...
but owning a phallus not
circumcised...
   stop basing your intellect
on me jerking off...
      S. I.: synthetic intelligence...

       ha ha...

  putting a ****** on a circumcised
phallus...
          
              i like that...

  no wonder the ones with
circumcised *****...
  do not know how to express
pleasure from a ****, jit-jitty-jittery
one-off with jamaica in mind...

to always require a woman?
must be painful...

             learning from my
grandfather... and the *****
of a mouth that constitutes my grandmother?

            go through that one
with me, one more time...

                 so...

                no *******?
       and you wear a ******?
      and it's not latex in being wholly
****** clad in it?

                          guess only the ones
with an intact ******* can
play the part of an audience...
and even, remotely, enjoy
the dutch spectacle of watching
***** without a Cain-induced
grievance...

                             harsh though...
circumcising...
    and even remotely,
      implying a second tier of an impetus
to miscarry
the original:
     well... i hope i'll receive
an epitaph "marred" by an inscription
set to stone....

          any argument from
the non-circumcised party of women
wondering about my final
statement on the relief that
comes with: no. 1, no. 2... and no. 3?
f.g.m.
   is probably the only "answer"...
you'll ever, get.