Lets spice up our *** life she said to me,
been reading this book and so plain to see,
If we tried something new,after going to bed,
things would be better than just giving head

so we tried this and that,and I said did that suit you ,
it was ok she replied,but get the Kama sutra,
so her leg went here,and my leg went there ,
like a *** game of twister with her rear in the air

all seemed fine and she started to straddle
said please treat me rough,smack my ***
with a paddle,have the palm of my hand
that would be better,all was good and things got wetter

heh grab  cable ties ,strap me onto the bed,
******* I thought ,there left in the shed,
but my work tie was near and I thought
well that"s handy,all this larking about got
me so ******* randy

At the end of it all ,she came and I went,
two sweating masses ,hot, bothered, and spent,
so if things have got dull at the end of the day,
best treat yourself  to 50 ways to weh hey

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.i like the night... it's the one time in the count of 24 hours, that i am free from owning a shadow.

a shadow it like an itch,
a spot of eczema -
     itchy ******* thing...
mind you,
i've become a person
equivalent of an anti-narcissus:
i felt in love with my shadow,
an image reflected
in a mirror,
has no potency,
    no, potential...

- danzig's 1000 devil's reign -

you could have played
the identity politics card,
you could have...
hmm...

          but then the identity politicians
played the grammatical
****-poor politics game...
sorry... how can i play
identity politics,
if i am a pedigree Pole?
   you want me to fake my
land of birth, and the language i was born
into, and speak it?
you want me to... what?!
unlearn it?!
      Jews unlearn Hebrew,
and speak Yiddish...
       to i have to be the one
who was baptized
to reteach then the Sefirot tree?
mind you... i also want to learn it...

feral ferocity for learning...
a Faustian complex...
   those three years at Edinburgh
university taught me one thing,
and one thing alone...
apart from the bogus
   organic chemistry
schematics of electron migrations...

so...
     ⠽⠁⠓
   oh it's there, in the Sefirot...
      chokhmah
   (wisdom)...

   there's even  (  el  )
                   ⠑⠇
chesed, i.e. love...

              next time i'll be writing
Hebrew, i'll be writing in Braille...
Braille is the new Hebrew for me...

and have you noticed?
given this pitiable Latin alphabet?
vowels, consonants,
consonants being the syllable
architects...
  but only one letter compounded
to a noun...
namely?
        'double u': W...

  and the greeks? omega,
omicron, alpha, beta, gamma...
      no wonder Greek pursues
its prevalence in the sciences...
no actual name given to a letter
in Latin...
no covert meaning...

way too ******* apparent, and weight gain
incubating...

but where is the meaning
of ⠺⠑⠓?!
if there is a ⠽⠁⠓ in the Sefirot,
and there's the over-simplified
   ⠑⠇?
   where the **** is ⠺⠑⠓?
    so the second syllable count
means nothing to ⠓⠁_ ⠎⠓⠑⠍?

greek actually have names
for some of their letters?
what do the Romans have?
castrato choir practice
of a sing-along?!

          so... i'll ask again...
truthfully?
  i'd love to be an interrogator...
i'd ask the questions,
then ask for the torture...
and then do the same torture
to the person being interrogated...
and then tell the interrogated person:
you don't receive third-party
privileges!            
      
i hate the fact that girls cut themselves...
not that i'm haemophobic...
girls leave such a mess...
i'm pretty sure heating up a pair of
scissors, and burning your flesh
can lead to a more, "productive"
excavation of the masochistic reasons
with a tangible genesis...

          cutting is such a barbaric
practice...
     burning?
       mm... you get a chance to sniff
out a perfume of burned flesh...
which is added brownie points...
            
           what a blind man's circle...
having found the yah...
but having to persist in looking
for the weh;
doesn't help that i don't speak
the nomadic tongue,
that hebrew is...

            it's almost like they
want to forget it...
     speaking it only among
orthodoxy,
   and religious practices -
but never in public...
   i'd loath to abandon my mother
tongue...
             for a whim of
multiculturalism,
having learned that...
someone in England, at some private
school, is embarking on
learning Russian or Mandarin...

to the assimilation police i simply add:
you want my mother tongue?
and don't respect my learning
of your tongue?
   come by, with a knife...
AND CUT IT OFF!
                
oh the joys, of originating in a non-colonial
peoples... living in.
a post-colonial people's hellhole.

i'm dead serious about conceptualising a su doku...
               i'm on the basis of fractions...
  praxis            9
                            ­  /  4
                   optical coordination of stressors of furthered insertion
for some reason i cited:
           9 x 6 = 51
                         and then           9 x 9 = 81...
              ****! 1 is such a difficult number to muster /
master in a goemetric class...
     1 isn't exactly geometrically "sound" -
                       hello φoνoς -
alternatively, when you're doing a really hard su doku,
quote this quasi-copernican interpretation,
i.e. doing the puzzle "lying down"...
     i dunno(h)... when complexity arises
   numbers "lying down" makes perfect sense...
     su doku?
        it's like onomatopoeia in terms of arrangement...
81? and it's still a perfect square?!
              o.k. o.k. (leo getz style),
                         ω
                   3          ß
                         m
         what the **** was alternative to the said?
        u p
        d
        o
        w
        n                        ­     p
                                       u
                                       d o w n
                                  by now you're ****** kidding...

      M
3          Σ
      W                         ­         my name's matthew,
so you can imagine why i get all hot and bothered
about this variation.
      now for some dead etymology (i,e,
i don't give a **** where the words came from,
i just like the way they sound) -
     poligon,
                              okop.
     all, if any, emotional intelligence equates
       itself toward an intensity status...
       i.e.         the more you feel, the more
                           your emotional competence...
for sure... apathy is the "placebo" guarantee
                     cure   for any type of pathos -
       or the λoγoς of guaranteed explanations.
   to be honest?
               λoγoς has been reduced to a suffix status
with that basic "accomplishment" of -ology.
       another "funny" word... by was of saying:
it's actually a city...
                             Płock -
                                                   Łódz,
alternatively? let's juggle

            ò (grave)            &       ó (acute)....
      now i see the funny side of the *tetragrammaton
concept... it really is omnipresent...
        between           ò       &      ó
    you want the sort of incisor that's basically |
    straight...
                      something that really might **** off god
once and for all...
           with nietzsche it didn't really happen...
         i mean an    |
                              o
                         ­     that would get rid of god in
the classical roman sense of:               oh...
      and return to the omicron basis
                   for having revealed a phonetic encoding
that's simply O...     and that means doing away with
the god's portion of a hammer (H) -
                     or the second syllable of the name:
                    η          - weh...
                                         eta weh...
i'd start translation phonetic encoding if i were you...
            that variant stated? eta?
              it's also called: a short e....
            the opposite like loki to thor?
      epsilon... and it's called the long e...
      in greek it's ε, in latin it's the basis for avoiding
diacritical confrontation / application...
    i.e.          ee           in the word keep,       e.g.

Gott,
Lass Freude sein!
Denn ich weiß nicht
was halb Liebe heißt
und dann auch nicht
was halb Weh
ich weiß nicht
wann genug, genug ist.
Jede Sekunde schallt in mir
mit ihrer ganzen Kraft!
Sie tut weh und lindert.
Gott,
Lass Freude sein
heute, diese Tage..
Schick mir lieber Gott
während meiner Verwirrungsstunden
die Lichtspur einer Hoffnung.
Gott,
Lass Freude sein
inmitten meiner Liebe.

Yes I , Putin de RAAAS fi tru him a de Ras of Rases. Cantrolling all dem eleckshan widout deteckshan, cyan touch Putin. Him a hack Babylonian komputah worse den cutlass hack di bush inna mi yard. Putin so cool, dem cyan even stop him hack Babylon Supah-bowl. Ras Putin secret Rasta, Ras Putin tru servant of JAH Almighty Rastafari. Vladimir a teach Haile Selassie di Solomonic wisdom, an ting weh mi seh...

Selah....

b-dumm dumm
b-dumm dumm
b-dumm dumm
b-dumm dumm tchka ta weh...
tchka tchka tchka b-dumm

dumm dumm tchka tsk dumm tchka tish
dumm dumm tchka tsk dumm tchka tash
dumm dumm tchka tsk dumm tchka dish
tsk dumm b-dumm dumm tchka dumm bash

b-dumm dumm tish tchka dumm dumm tash
b-dumm dumm tish tchka dumm dumm tash
boom boom boom tchka tchka dumm bash
dumm bash-bash, dm-bash bash, dm-bish

tchka tchka dumm dumm ting
boom boom tchka tchka dumm bash ting
shik shik shika tika tik tik ting
boom boom tchka shika boom ting bish

boom shika tchka boom bash boom ching
boom, b-dumm dumm tika tika tika ting
boom shika shika boom bish bash beng
tika tika tika dumm boom boom ting

boof.. ka tchka boom boom cha
b-boof boof ka tchka boom boom cha
boom boom ka tchka tchka boom tish
tchka tchka dumm tsk tsk (dubudu) kish

(dubudu) (dubudu) (dubudu) tish
(dubudu) (dubudu) dub dub tesh
(dubudu) (dubudu) (dubudu) tsk tchka dish
dub.. b-dub dub taka tchka ting

dub dub tchka tsk dumm tchka ting
dub dub tchka tsk dumm tchka tash
dub dub tchka tsk dumm tchka ting
dub dub dub, b-dub dub dub mmm
b-dub dub dub, b-dub dub dub mmm
b-dub dub dub, b-dub dub dub mmm
b-dub mmm dub
b-dub mmm dub
b-dub
b-dub
b-dummm

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more
Right now mi feel like church life unsure
Mi cant even see weh fi embrace nuh more
Cause the covid thing seh nuh embrace nuh more.

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more.  
Right now mi feel like church life unsure.
Mi miss sis jenny cooking,
The good sat deh chicken,
Mi usually lick mi  finga
Like a happy baby pigeon.  

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more
Right now mi feel like me church life unsure
Weh affi mask up
Face cover up
A cough or sneeze mek everybody flair up.

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more.
Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more

i sometimes read the "elitist" poems and poets of
poetry-foundation-dot-org...
and i wonder...
well: there's no real distinction between
the "ancient": pre-technological-mass-reproduction
anticipatory essay of Walter Benjamin
of awe: find the Louvre and the Mona Lisa...
awe... such a tiny painting and...
awesome... entertainment value of what used
to be entertainment value of movies...
i do love the grit of 1970s cinema...
the 1980s futurist macho-"fascism"...
hell... even the 1990s had some great flicks
a great round-off of the medium...

a LAYLA BENITEZ-JAMES
translates a BEATRIZ MIRALLES DE IMPERIAL

such words are: not borrowed
or rather: in ****** it's A in Deutsche its Z...

jestem otwartą raną
języka

mówić tak nie wiele boli

-

ich bin ein offen wunde
von sprache

zu sagen so klein weh tun

-

apparently it never hurt the Chinese drunken
poet-monks to write anecdotal
syllable counted observations
concerning seeing a blue moon
with drunken-blood-shot eyes...

the Japanese or Chinese poets never complained
that they didn't have a novel in them,
quiet the reverse of this scenario...
there's the budding novel yet to be written
by a poet...
   is there?
a true meditation... a few words...
no need for a novel... an eternity of thought
mingling with everyday tasks
and then... hopefully: a spontaneity of
laughter recalling words akin to...

no kanji, no hiragana...
back to square, one: katakana...
katakana Ki - tan - ah...

   フルイケ    ヤ
     カワズ     トビコム
   ミズ    ノ      オト

no oto: the sound...
i'm guessing water is... mizu: return to
kanji: a returning from to:
   水 a word as picture...

but there's no budding novelist in here,
nor is there pain...
frog: カエル (kaeru) is not a picture-word,
it is a word-sound...

              self-explanatory "bias"...

ワタシ (watashi - i am)
      フショー     シタ      (fushoo shita - wounded tongue)
i absolve myself from entertaining
any conspiracies of entertainment
for the mass of later: distinction...

alternative route while cycling:

サイクリング (saikuringu)
    air, open mind...
wind: my soul - a silence
a lost intrusiveness of the helplessness
of others...
            クーキ
                        アイタ (aita) マインド (maindo)
カゼ (kaze, wind):
stone for heart...
               イシ (ishi, stones)
                              ココロ (kokoro, hearts)...
trickle... like sand... from desert
by time: a mountain!

        ヤマ:
                         yama - mountain...
parrot in the snow...
        オーム  (oomu)
                               ノ
                 ユキ (no... yuki)...

oh **** no... i'm not moving to Tokyo...
i don't want to speak fluent Japanese...
i just want to escape what i last saw
in the feminist panel on Vice News...
i'll ensure that Japanese is like me
in that film about the mad genius mathematician
of the film Pi... i'll put a drill to my head
prior to having to somehow:
now insure myself concerning these
blaze... arguments of "reality" of:
Plato the Plumber and the reicarnation
blocked-toilet... sort-of-speak...
i'm ******* off to Japan...
at least thinking about how the "Samurai"
encode their speaking is a relief
when listening to this Iron Maiden
of "heroic" gymnastics of post-feminism...

i feel completely... oblivious to what's happening...
just today i took a very magnificent route....
i challenged myself...
it's not spring yet... it's not summer...
i'm not allowed the later hours of the day
reserved for these seasons...
Cold-harbour dumping ground next to the Thames
was willing me to do a lap...
ah... maybe next time...

the route? from Collier Row through to Hornchurch...
then onto Upminster...
from Upminster toward Aveley...
from Aveley toward Purfleet...
well... seeing the Dartford Bridge Crossing...
no wonder i could get my geography straight...
the Thames never feels south... even though
you're orientating it from the perspective of the north...
up to Rainham...
obviously i had to venture into the little village
of Wennington... the one that was burning
only August of last year...
because... hey... it's not global warming...
a return to the ice age i reckon...
this little Arab interlude and palms will last only
so long...
my god... burned down houses...
get me a ticket to 1990s Sarajevo!
   that's how bad it looked... they're still clearing
up the mess...

from Rainham back toward Hornchurch and via Harold
Wood toward Harold Hill...
i know there's a Paris... i was a teenager in love
with Stendhal and i visited Paris solo...
i know there's a Paris but i'm starting to think:
maybe: MAYBE there is a "Paris"?
just maybe... this is London on the outskirts this isn't
London for television...

コドク (aloneness - kodoku):
        (existence with everyone)
ソンザイ    ト
           ゼンタイ            (sonzai to zentai)

nope... i'm not learning fluent Japanese...
i'm not going to travel to Japan to pay
taxes, to buy ******* sushi
and feel: a part of apart...
however boldly bad: grammatically...
i hear some ******* argument in
the western sphere... i start to scribble
katakana... i look into the scripts from India...
hell... i go as near as Greek allows...
i morph Latin with European additions
of diacritical markers...
i don't want to be constipated by an "argument":
or lineage of: ******* arguments of people
who have... zero... absolutely no...
inclinations how funny it all must be...
for someone misdiagnosed as schizophrenic
circa 2008... looking at the year 2023
almost gleefully... Beelzebub rubbing his *****
hands... the madman turned out to be...
pretty sane... given the current currency of
consensus!

    i have not invested in having children:
care to complain? me neither...
am i earning enough money to complain that my
money is going toward up-keeping
the mistakes of single-mothers? no...
i'm earning enough for a solo escapade...
i don't earn enough to be taxed!
i stopped drinking...
i can start imitating the bear in the realm
of a perpetual winter of contentment...
i can realise an ape imitating a bear:
i can exist-hibernating...
                            if i don't need to go to the cinema:
what's the point? i can...
go and see an art exhibition and wonder...
once at the paintings...
second at the old women trying to push
these young girls into my orbit as if implying:
go talk to him...
  but i'm here to admire the paintings, aren't i?!
am i here for a date?!

plus... i don't need to own a car...
i can cycle to almost anywhere in London of my own
volition and ease of exercise...
i don't need to spend money on *******
that most women would spend money on...
i have a recycling fetish...
i have little ambitions of curios adventures that
don't really require me to stress hard-pressed
constant hard-ons to compete with other men...
if i really feel like it...
i'll declare *** for recreational purposes as:
probably most boring...
given the adventures of cycling and swimming...
but if must-be-must...
hell... the brothel with me and it's all over:
proven point... in an hour's worth...

i am a truly liberated man...
thank you woman, for showing me the path...
your liberation has liberated me beyond
your wildest anticipations!
i am once and for all, truly freed from the precursors
of what freedom might have tasted like...
if not for the social-stigma of the bachelor status...

フリーダム (furiidamu - freedom)
                  ハイカイ (haikai - loitering)
スワル (suwaru, sit) -
                  ハクシュ (hakushu - extol)

all the men in my
life had only one
motif:
  god, she sounds:
just like my mother!
oh i didn't ****
the men...
        i didn't ****
the women either...
i guess i had a mother...
i guess i had
some origin story:
unlike adam:
a mathias
with a womb
rather than a god...
for all i know
the whiskey made
sense:
    the rest was
   just mediocre.
but hey! i didn't
complicate your life with
my addication:
as i didn't complicate
my life with your
   narrative;
last time i checked,
all it took was a single mum
with a young buy
who read me a book
in german on a train from
Romford to Stratford,
and even though i know
he was narrating to me
a story about
the personification
   of trains in: all i could
recall was the song:
hanzel & gretyl: mein
kommandant...
the fetish of being a father
overpowered me
in having to overpower
the fetish of ****:
cuz vaacheeking ****
und alloowing
  a nun monopoly,
didn't really bid me a well
enough goot-nacht.
a little kinder on the train
speaking to me
a kinder-deutsche...
   wouldn't your heart melt?!
es hat weh getan, zu sehen:
  kinder-deutsche.

.subtitle: hacking hellopoetry: so you basically can't encode Mandarin, but Japanese is coolio...

you know, when you wake up,
and, you're not quiet woken up,
so you lie there,
eyes closed,
            listening to music -
still tipsy from last night's drinking,
and you enter the twilight
zone, or what i like to call
the other subconscious -
the outer-conscious?
   you know that place...
you think of several photographs
of yourself:
   like you're looking into
mirror of the present but
a mirror that also knows your past?
and you do this...
to... remember a dream...
of the night just past...
    and boom! it hits you...
i could swear that i dreamed just
the past few hours,
in terms of seconds...
that someone lit my beard...
   yep... my beard was on fire.
well... beside that,
i was trying to write the tetragrammaton
in Japanese...
  problem being,
it wouldn't be a tetragrammaton,
but a duogrammaton,
Y-W...
         ジャ     私たち
and i don't even know
   whether that's even right...
  JA                WEH
                     (watashitachi)
more like
                      ヤハウェ
                           (ya'hau~e)...
****... seems the name of the Hebrew
god is also a tetragrammaton
   in Japanese...

well...
           god exists god doesn't exist...
i'll leave the people praying,
praying...
              and i'll remain thinking
about him...
             yes, the fertility of ideas,
nouns, things,
            and it is still: mother death.

maybe it's one of those nights where i don't write
anything and simply enjoy drinking
and some good music...
it must be one of those nights...
i feel intellectually lazy...
                     more than that...
i feel that my memory faculty has taken over...
culminating in a reading
of Zhuangzi...
      what was that band that did a song about
Mr. Brightside?
                 the Killers? no?
                ****... i didn't leave a bookmark...
i usually leave a temp. bookmark with a sample
of toilet paper...
                     no... not because i could wipe my ***
with the pages of the book i'm currently reading...
it's just easier that way...
but this one story was about two concubines...
one was beautiful... and she knew/ thought that
she was beautiful...
   the other was ugly.... and she knew / thought
that she was ugly...
but the ugly one was more endearing...
             the master of the inn replied to the traveller:
i treat the ugly one better... because:
i sometimes forget her ugliness...
                           this is non-verbatim of course...

i could easily incorporate the following Cyrillic
into ****** on the basis of laziness...
   following from                 щ:

     szczur becomes щur...
                             i don't think there's any aesthetic loss...
i rather find it elevated...
but with that it also means i would have
to drop the Czech orthographic aesthetic of the caron
hovering about either S or C...

because there's no щ in Czech...
the Serbians can incorporate a Latin J...
i'll just leave it as my own idiosyncratic attitude...
rigid English is also fluid English:
whatever grammatical uprising happened or is still
happening: my I.Q. was drowning in
the "pronoun debates"... so i sort of lost interest:
but English will not incorporate any post
Roman accents... perhaps that's how the English
prospered: thinking themselves as the rightful
inheritors of the Roman Empire...

makes perfect sense...

like the critique of Communism...  to me?
it converged with the already emergence of Pan-Slavism...
which was a genuine movement...
the unification of all the Slavic people...
Communism didn't work... it didn't...
in the Soviet Union...
              it worked in China where it morphed
into a quasi-capitalism...
it also worked... in the satellite states of the Soviet
Empire...

it worked in... Czechoslovakia...
it worked in Hungary... and it worked in Poland...
it did...
   how?                  mein gott!
everyone's familiar with the Marshall Plan...
so... basically... funding by the F.S.A.
          (united? states? please... nice 20th century
gimmick... nice chant at sporting events)
so there was this Marshall Plan...
        aid was distributed to the war torn countries
after World War II...
           even Sweden! (i thought Sweden was neutral?
yeah... it was, hmm!)
           was given a paycheck to rebuild...
but what else the Soviets "liberated"? sure...
         "we" received a paycheck... a "grant":
via an ideology...

                               i'm starting to think that...
music from the Satellite States of the Soviet Union
was on par with Western music...
i'm happy i kept my bilingualism...
i can go back to a culture that i'm a diaspora member
of...
         unlike all those Asian immigrant children
who's parents tell them to forget their mother tongue
and only acquire a strange urban accent...
thankfully i'm first generation immigrant...
i kept my tongue, because, as Napoleon said:
a person who knows two languages is worth 2 people...

oh please... Soviet music is ****...
i'll give three examples... maybe more...
Maanam - Krakowski Spleen...
Klaus Mittfoch - Śmielej...
Republika - **** Doll...
Omega - Gyöngyhajú Lány...
fair enough... the last song is Hungarian...

but it wasn't all bad...
                        perhaps it was bad in the Soviet Union...
well... you bring together Russians and Mongolic tribes...
the Kazakhs etc.
            but? surprisingly... the genius of Gorbachev...
as my grandfather used to say...
that it happened so peacefully!
can you imagine the breaking apart of
the United Kingdom... or the F.S.A. as peacefully?!

i can't...
    perhaps it was bad in the Soviet Union...
but after the historical facts of the **** Empire building...
there was always going to be a subversion
element to nodding to the Soviet-post-Tsarist
arena...

    i'm not saying that communism will ever be
a success... but... it's not a bad idea in crucial scenarios...
like in Poland from the years 1945 through to 1990...
it worked...
    and then... the reins are let go...
what happens? a diaspora is created...
   those adamant that communism didn't work
stay in the homeland... and rebuild it with a doubled
fervor... while those that thought that communism
worked: ******* to other countries...
i think my mother pushed my father into
looking at immigration: given she was a daughter
of a prominent member of the communist party:
**** me... my grandfather was a meisterschtick
in his profession... he was even asked to be
a peer... in a courtroom...
                     i.e. a member of the jury...

me? i was once a witness...
  a troublesome witness...
so me and m'ah "fwend" and some other witnesses
were walking down a street in the night...
some ****-
                          -stani pulls up in a car...
and grabs m'ah "fwends" phone out of this hand...
i tell the other witness to note down
the number plates of the car...
duly noted: we go to the police station
and report it...
   week or two later i'm skimming through
mug-shots in a police station...

idiocy goes to trial... i'm standing in the dock...
the lawyer of the defesense
shows me another picture of the culprit...
back in the day when there was an imprint
on the photograph: before photographs became
digital...
is this him? he asks...
i look at the face... then at the date...

this is two years prior?
    can you imagine me growing long hair in two years
time? can you imagine me growing a beard
in two years time?
so why are you asking me what someone looked
two years prior to a crime... if not asking me
what i will look like two years from now?

it was a simple ******* question...
i honestly don't know how the case finished...
i guess it was a failure because:
m'ah "fwend" probably felt scared
and couldn't identify the culprit...
whatever the case: "problem"...
i sort of lost respect for him and in a polite way:
when i was in my nadir...
he uttered the words: would you like me to
bring out a violin?
oh... ******... ****** ****** ******...
i wanted to tell him that the reason why
his parents divorced and why he was still
living with his dad
and why his dad ****** off to Thailand
and brought a Thai bride with him
and hy he now had a step-brother
and why his father was still playing Command & Conquer
and breeding Thai chickens...
and why his hygiene was terrible...
why he didn't clean his kitchen...
and the reason why his father divorced his mother
was because she was a terrible cook
    and because the third child they had
had serious mental disabilities... *******...

but... no... i didn't...
              this is how you repay me... after i stand
up to you?
   i remember parting with him after he left me
stunned with that violin quote:
i turned my back towards him...
raised my hands up and then... let them flop:
**** it... tower of Babel...

that was just prior to the "onslaught" of the pandemic...
me? i gained from it...
while everyone else was growing tired,
cold, distant: i was already tired,
cold and distant...
akin to the crab bucket: there was only one
way up...

friends! ha!

two more songs...
            Róże Europy - Jedwab...
Róże Europy - kości czerwone, kości czarne...

what are friends? in the dire straits...
only then... and by then...
you're befriending strangers...
no... no ******* childhood memories of people
you used to play hide & seek with...
or... by western standards: video games...
oh: to hell with that!

my Cerberus came to lie in my bed just
a minute ago...
i think i'll need him to stand watch should
any rat from my neighbour's garden try to nibble on
me while i take to sleep in the garden:
half frozen in nakedness on the hyper-"real" grass
that's fake...
i'll need him to watch over my sleeping body...
but that's the only great aspect of a heatwave...
while everyone else will be rotting in a household...
i'll be falling asleep in the garden...
illuminated by solar-panelled lights...
and i'll be: mostly glad to be alone...

just that silence in my head...
which i try to rekindled with multiple egos
like a Thespian and not a poet...

Communism worked... because it only works for
a while!
               it would work in Syria...
it could work anywhere for a period of 50 years...
up to... 50 years...
then it disappears... gladly...
it's not a permanent Utopian sentiment...
it's a crux: for rebuilding nations...
it worked in Poland...
                        it didn't work in the Soviet Union
because... Communism was anti-Tsarist...
but the French Republic could have...
turned into a Communist experiment:
which it did... post-Communism...

                         blah blah... i'm enjoying the music
more than the writing...
1:34am... i think i'm going to ******* to the garden
to sleep a little bit earlier before sunrise
arrives... i'll take my Cerberus with me...
to watch over my sleeping: dead body to mind
the rats not trying to give me either manicures
or pedicures...
            
    we'll have our fun... stars... moon...
a naked torso... the chill of night...
                       if i lived a place where the cold wasn't
a concern for raising bricks...
i'd be a... waste of time... or rather:
i'd be an untouchable...
i'd grow my beard to my bellybutton
and my hair strapped in dreadlocks
to my ****...

         but i do enjoy Turkish barber-pandering...
it wasn't all that bad!
         it wasn't!

see! i started off thinking about nothing...
now i have a narrative: genious sessions with Hans Zimmer!

but i really could do with certain letters in the Cyrillic
alphabet...

               i feel so bad for Maine **** cats and Huskies
in this weather...
don't ever leave dogs in hot cars in parking lots...

i really could do with some Cyrillic letters...
beginning with щ...

             via the word: truthfulness:

щerość > ščerość > szczerość....

                 i can't introduce the caron S or caron C
with the already available acute S and C...
better turn to Cyrillic...
because i'm / i am lazy... with Cyrillic being
what the English do with the apostrophe...

but i need several more letters...
i don't imply having to derive from the Glagolitic anymore:
i.e. Ⱋ...

                  i need the following:
to replace the SZ, CZ... RZ...
                  esp. these three letterings...
ж to replace rz
                              i know there's an alternative meaning
should ж be replaced with what replaces rz,
i.e. żaba: frog... rzecz: thing...
ergo?                                                  жecz..
ergo...                to replace CZ?
                                         ч...
i.e.                  жeч...

     what am i falling on? terrible ideals and mystical
Judaism... i'm trying to HIDE the TETRAGRAMMATON...

SZ...                          шatan...

hmm... this one curiosity: coupled with another...
it took **** Germany with Soviet Russia
to conquer Poland than it merely took
**** Germany to conquer France...

a human has 32 teeth...
the Polish language has 32 letters...
although... i'm trying to extend the bite...
by borrowing some Cyrillic lettering...
perhaps it's a "bad idea"... but i don't see any problem
with it...

the English language has 26 letters...
although, the same "problem": SH and CH
are also letters: even if they are composed
of two letters... sat and shat...
cat and chappy...
                                                                   no?

there are enough words in the ****** lexicon
that utilise the SZCZ (shch) coupling:

another example: szczegół...
i.e. detail...
i can't be bothered with writing one s after
two zeds before writing a c...
щegół...
                           hell... it looks pretty for any
English speaking crowd...
esp. the monolingual tourist types...

i like it... i think i'm going to stick with it...
frankly: i think i am...
but that's me... will it become popular?
i hardly ******* doubt it...
i'm just trying to hide the Hebrew TETRAGRAMMATON...
the Latin grapeme Æ in the name of the name:
in the first born Siamese of
yAh of Adam and wEh of Eve...
      the rugby goals of the HH...

   and all? because i'm writing in London...
outskirts... perhaps... but i can catch a train from Romford
toward Liverpool St. and arrive within 20 minutes...
or i can cycle...
       and still get there... with a whiff of
Bombay... and Lahore...
hmm... funny me looking at funny you:
WASP...

Richard Harris coming to England... to London...
smashing a glass window
with a poster: blacks... dogs... the Irish not welcome...
i adore authentic drinkers...
they make me believe that i don't
have a problem...
that the problem is outside of me!
because... the propable cause is that:
the problem is outside of me...
i just adapted to it with drinking...

best gain: **** prostitutes like a pirate
without a ship...
spend your night listening to phone-calls
coming in from Arab boys trying to attest
their ****-philia...

in conversation:

what's this with your husband? i'm bounding myself to being boxed as both confused with... yu need to elaborate... i promise to return a cryptic language... but just show me your head... i was going to write this... i think i will... "imaginary scenario"... a jealous man comes across a woman cheating on him... RED FLAG... what does he do? he asks the cheating woman... how about a *******?! what could be worse for the cheating woman... two men fighting over her... or... one man deciding... sure... if she's up for it... let's share! do i need that much crap or do i just allow the woman to play out her full fantasy? we're already reached a ******... we might as well elevate the ******... you cheated on me already...next stage? i share you with someone... there's no need to ****** on the wedding ring... it's what i call the de-escalation of symbolism...but all the FREEDOM! if i was in a relationship with a woman... and found out that she was cheating on me... i'd ask her for a *******... after all... mouth... ******... ****... ****... *******'s not enough: it would require a foursome! eh... you can spare him the nun antics...

because i found a fusion of a people of the Hebrews: and Chinese Zhuangzhi atheism like the anaesthetic of being privy: to the heavenly experience... being a conversational vanguard of: proposing gimmicks... theomatoid arthritis of riciule, sarcasm: the only worhsip of humor and transcendence that can counteract the origins of humor with slapstick and by the aid of silence... i watch movies and i'm dying to see, i'm dying to see Deadpool v Wolverine... so i'm watching other movies... and i'm loving the Ryan Reynold's type of humor and my cat stretches and callibrates gymnastics in his sleep: then sort of wakes and munches on ghosts... why are the archetypes of men in modern movies so airy'ear'dough: weird?! so nice so weak so awkward and almost wheelchair bound hopeless with no Prof Xavier mountain of collapse and telepathy...

so today i watched... hmm...
i was waiting for my mother's medical supplies:
how, the ****,
can i hurt you: being 7000 miles away
and like 11 ******* hours
this strain is completing me...
i watched... Notting Hill...
the Mask...
a Syd Barrett documentary...
and something else...
new concept: an 8 day week...
4 shifts on 4 shifts off
or days
night shifts
and i think:
is work ever a drudgery...
or is perhaps religion?
work you must do
religion you may practice...
53min
Romford to Liverpool St
29min...
or the quickened Anglican train
from Southend Victroria...
then a 7min walk to Moorgate...
Northern line to Elephant and Castle:
sound London:
Millwall territory...

HUEL plant protein ingestion:
there are known to be protein alien
absorbers of motions
i've seen them in houseplants
that i forgot to water
they made me hallucinate with
movement...
HUEL: German based plant based
protein substitute
banana shake:
pees beans and Pythagoras..
i love the idea of petting cats...
but the problem is:
eating them is taboo.. no?!

lit a candle: didn't bother buying flowers:
instead bought milk:
which she persuaded me
to get a night guard clamp
and drink oat milk
and lactose free
oh wow that O and wheel...

summer is over the plants the botanical
revision clepsydra of
epilepsy this elipse
is coming round to the haunt of autumn
that's unlike summer
autumn married summer
and spring parried winter
and all the seasons were lost
to the globalised argument
of hegemony and the globalist affair:
but how the seasons married
and were no longer the four seaons
of God...

the American Jesus is not the European
Jesus is no not in the least:
the Roman Catholic:
if under the platter of a shade of ******
empowerment:
the Roman Catholic Church is the Church
of the Mother and Child:
the passion chimera of the ****** birth:
now...
build me a Church in Honor of Joseph!
show me Joseph teaching
Jesus the skills of carpentry before
he broke down and the spirits
called him and he went out into the world:
this poor dyslexic caligraphy
not quiet Socrates not giving a ****
because of old age:
i was born yesteday: let me inquire
about, Christianity...
god loves me?
so why does he punish me and allows
others to explore their counterfeits
of teasing evil
without actually knowing the true beauty
of the evil beyond the serpents
in tapeworms in parasites:
Satanic Project 2.0
no longer two serpents quarreling:
just a sack of worms!
with the aid of worms:
i will **** out that apple into a ****!
and give you the baron fruit
above good and evil:
i will tell you not of the knowledge:
but the wisdom to tell apart
sadness from happiness...
i will tell you something beyond a mere quench
of intellect when one becomes
high and drunk:
i will tell you of the difference
between sadness and happiness:
i will tell you man as Euphoria
and woman as Carthritis...
i will tell you that there is no good and evil
only the monstrosity of the grey
of day of England's September promise
of an Indian Summer...
that i will tell...

Species... introducing these two blondes
like horses for my carriage awaits...
such cheap special effects
it's lament: oh too late...
thinking about Alien: singular: masculine...
and Species: plural: feminine...
you really want to bother me out of my sleep?
my surf?
4 x 12h night shifts...
my first, earliest memory:
was of my great-grandfather being a steward
of a nursery place:
two pianos: a shadow:
building blocks...
then on my days off i will be engineering
a revision of the Colliseum...
and you are the woman
who made this hermit freed from love
wake up from slumber in his 20s...
i am quiet equipped the Chinese revelation
was simply for me: the "pandemic"...

i will pass my theory driving license
and finish off vol 6 of Kierkegaard's mangum opus
on these shifts:
if i'm not with you by Christmas...
i can only think:
you straightened out my life...
and for that you keep calling me friend...
xombie: 7000 miles and 11h away
if were weren't moving...
but are moving...
because the moon says: TIDE!
and the tides come... and the earth is drowning
in an absence of relatibility...

DAJJEH... dajjal...
i was thinking of the upside down Y and i came
across only the Greek Lambda: the Y inverted:
strange variation of thinking
about the Tetragrammaton:
LYH...
the way of Man's thinking: Yah...
the way of Woman's being: Weh...
i'm sorry: why do we have this prison of
Jesus-Mohammad these oprhans
these religious Orpheuses
these miasmas...
can't see the Jesus-Mohammad collaboration?
i see it: the question of father
like god when it comes to mary injunction madonna
and ******:
i'm asking: what about the ******* church
of the father: if the mother qualified
for governing iron maiden 200- year old grip
of power!
it's as if feminism reached into the deepest
receeding potential for man
and said: in the parody of Greek Sibyls:
we must reach
the man's potential of the work ethos:
we must enter the worldplace
to have a chance to talk to Matthew...
i'll wait... there is not vanity in be subsidising
nouns... for nouns:
say Jesus: then i'll say Matthew:
ten times.

alternating in thinking: this would be an underlying motif of my life on Kauai, this domesticated fuel of feuds... and it's seeping into my digestion like it's a cognition: i have, started, to think about thinking as byproduct of digestion... maybe i just like how i don't bother to rhyme sentences... for the purpose of cute soundbites... maybe it's time to rhyme concepts: thinking and digesting... maybe they are very much aligned... hmm?

sonic hangover meets a moral hangover:
or rather: what's leftover from the sonic
and the visual hangover of doing
7... that's 7 of the 8: 0.875
5/6 = 0.833...
   3/4 = 0.75:

funny how fractions oscillate around
0
and become the ****** numbers...
fractions assume a whole: a one...
while decimals dismiss one
and begin with 0
a fraction is 3/4 of 1
while that's also true of 0.75...

   just saying... just saying...
today is the 23rd of August
but the 22nd of August was spectacular:
i ate the fruit...
i was the body-fermenting
a digestion of thought
and i did spend the entire day lying
in bed
and divulging in psychology lectures
worrying about my spine
stinking of rot and **** and not that
i was ****** or rotting
but i might as well have been:

i ate the fruit and i didn't feel sin:
i just felt: shame...
i was naked and trying to incubate
my genitals by folding my legs
and almost pushing my genitals
into my bellybutton:
let that image sink in:
it's an imitation of the serpent eating itself
for the... purpose...
no... longevity... yes: the temporal plane...
spatially: well:
i experience this strange assemblence
(assemble: assembling ambiance of
semblance - assemblance...
the quality of something not yet
designated to be imitated or understood)
of gravity without vectors of Newtonian
explanations...
like a second advent of Copernicus...
vertigo while lying in bed:
quiet an experience...

the nightguard is a gimmick:
i'm not that much into boxing matches:
parlor of the shakes in Muhammad Parkinson's Ali...
sorry: but i'll wait my turn for what's
to come....

is Kauai supposed to be my St Helena?
is Kauai supposed to be that?
it sure as **** and hell above it feels like that:
now comes the thinking about it...

Taylor didn't have to sing about it:
but, being the Grand Witch... she did conjure up:
she did invite the serpent:
of the eras tour i did like
the dark sexuality of Taylor the ***** witch Taylor
and subliminal or not:
she did ask for the serpent to come...
little did she know:
the serpent the tongue of the dragon:
but the dragon wants to become a bear
and disregard the monkey...
money monkey money monkey...
all just dangling in the open
in the air: concentrated into an arena!
ah... i was just aghast with so much
air and... this meteor leftover where
a cult could be born...

the theonyms... the study of YHWH
has brought be beyond any measure of how
language is to be proper processed:
i can't see the potential in Allah...
i just can't:
there's the Latin assemble of YHWH
graphemes... diphthong: Æ
       YÆHWÆH

                       just saying: Adam of Yah
and the Eve of Weh...
you can't even say the name because you
have to write the name and think
about atoms and letters and vowels are +
while consonants are -
since...
vowels can exist by themselves
while consonants need to be supported
by vowels:
a be cee dee e ef gee H i jay kay
el em en zee queer

where is that video i was watching about
queer theory:
it was fascinating:
traumatizing children...
queer is the antithesis of what homosexuality
looks like when normalized by society
i think i'm queer in that William Burroughs' sense
of...
homosexuality at a Taylor Swift concert...
well: working with Muslim men:
some virgins...
and them slobbering all about Jannah...
funny how no bomb exploded
how i was able to tame the frustrations
of being a male ****** Muslim...
so i had to do what...
any bear in the vicinity of:

my mind is a fishbowl and my ego
a goldfish...
my mind is a fishbowl and my ego
a goldfish...

but she did invoke the serpent
in that segment where she was all BAD BLOOD
like: no no, it wasn't a subtle concern for
getting sexually poisoned...
weird: how can people be so
irresponsible concerning ***...
******* on toilet seats
for others to late imagine
parasites in ***** crawling up one's
buttocks to later make
maggot acne indentations on the face
like the moon is protector of the earth
and moon is man and woman is earth:

forget Venus and Mars:
men are from the moon and women are:
here... men are from the moon
and women are of the earth...

so i'm eating this apple and i'm thinking:
maybe i can get some ******* idiot
to pretend to be a young Socrates
and speed up the process
and design a metaphor...
wine... bread...          applause! applause!
and i know that it will be my turn
to be born and die...
eh... once should suit me just fine:
i'm a productive know-it-all
so i'll get busy regardless of the sane,
mortal, allowance: by a woman:
to architecture a child... into...
something workable...
all my deviant vices some call evil will
come to the fore...
they will be a playground for voyeurism...
i don't mind:
if i can turn SIN into SHAME...
i will have a workaround...

now...            to turn SIN into SHAME...

of course i wanted to explore the victimhood mentality:
ha ha... funny... no -ism escapism,
red riding -hood like the sound of tuning an Oud:
oh wood ah woo! hehe...
   so i took the shift on... Monday...
like i was gang *****:
but i wasn't:
the night guard lover knows i talk and walk
in my sleep: i am a sleepwalker...
but those chips on my teeth?
oh... i didn't do these when sleeping...
i chipped off my teeth when i was wild
and awake...
you missed the bottom ones:
this was my wedding gift to death:
she wanted bone so i was like:
haven't broken a bone in my body
you want bone into your cauldron?
**** me... em em... right...
well, you want a bit of my chew?
so i clenched my jaw so hard
that i saw no sclera and no iris in my eyes
just that darkening whirlpool of pupil...
like a shark...
and the abyss just yawned saying:
you've reached the bottomless envy...
you can forgive yourself
as long as you eat of the fruit of shame
and tame sin...
so i did... i think: by the way: i don't think...
i just experience the afterthought
of what the semblance of man to animal
has become... via science...
because religion wouldn't allow
that mirror to stand...

too much ******* schematic obstructions:
or punctuation... name it what the hell you want...
new mysticism will try to actually
condense science...
there's no name for it
since the original mysticism was
something to do with congesting literacy
and the knowledge, proficiency of a language:
now that language is known
and deviating into... something...
abstract is a quote?

               Taylor did summon a serpent...
good girl still doing good but at the bottom
so open about being of a certain age:
millennial:
not *** and the City not
                     Bridget Jones... but still a red riding
hood: witch...
        who is...         is who?
as what?        how is that?
                                 writing songs, drinking wine,
can't you just leave those cats alone?!
cat?                   hey!      fern!
nice kitty... nice houseplant... stay stay...
go go!
                     i don't even know why
i have cats in my house...
my life would be so much simpler if i didn't
have them...
outlandish: they're not even utilized for anything:
i made sure there were no mice in
the house
and even if there were these creatures
are like horses left to pasture
without me having to ride them into battle...
can't exactly turn a cat into an armchair
or use it to cut vegetables...

so in  bed all day... contemplating SHAME...
why? well i had a great day of scribble-productivity
and... yeah...
my mother caught me on the off-load of
drinking and smoking wobbling in the kitchen
and it must be such a shame
to have a mother
and a father
it must be shameful to have such people...
oh but i known Baron Envy
and how children are raised these days
with at least one missing...
              but that was worse than:
i don't drink during the day... sparingly...
if i have a great idea and want to concentrate on writing
then yeah: i will drink...
otherwise i'm just vanilla sensible...
and it was unlike sleeping with someone
who tells you upon waking:
oh... your grind your teeth... you talk in your sleep:
well! i'm not a painter!
i need an unconscious outlet for the art
i conjure when conscious: writing should make you
talk in your sleep and not dream... right?!
but mother, dearest, caught me while i was
semi-sleepwalking...
why did she want to see me in my most vulnerable
creative self:
my most creative self is also when i'm
the most self-destructive...
i have reached the nihilistic zenith of drinking
and writing as a form of escapism... which is not:
hasn't been properly tested...
as far as i known there's no impediment of
third-party associations...
         that's why the internet exists and that's why
it has become so unnerving for my paranoia of
others: **** 'em...
         that i can... just...
justify my ambition of how networking crux...
it's not hacking...
but a close association to it...
             if i were desperate to make any money
from my verbiage...
if i were... ha ha...                 oh if i were...
i wouldn't write this...
with so much sadistic pleasure - and i write this:
with as much sadistic pleasure as
is necessary.

p.s. i wasn't sexually harassed...
but you put yourself in a scenario with so many
young females...
a lunatic asylum, makeshift...
the only equivalence of confiding in sexuality
is only going to be a male...
not that that is a symptom of ******
frustration: but a ****** dominance...
no... prominence...
i allowed Jason to eat my ear...
it almost felt poetic: even my friend Alexander,
the painter... dropped a bomb
when i was off duty drinking at a pub
and this guy with a long-board: not a skateboard:
a long board... crossbows longbows etc.
YOU'RE THE THING, AREN'T YOU?

am i the poet-bouncer?
**** me... i've heard of the sage-warrior...
maybe this is equivalent...
truly: if i was in power? yeah?
i would ban the consumption of alcohol
at football matches...
if it is, supposedly: such a beautiful game...
why spike it with alcohol?
if football is the equivalent to ballet:
don't ******* drink when watching it!
get to appreciate the intricacies of the sport...
otherwise it's not helping you
if you require the sport to drink
and vent off personalized detailing of
unsolvable drama in your life!
otherwise just ban the sport...
          clearly there's a very different clientele
when it comes to appreciating
rugby or cricket...

jeez... a Roman Catholic living in England
is like a death-wish...
the ******* were so adamant
about being the inheritors of Rome that
unlike any other Europeans:
they didn't allow the insurgence of diacritical
markers onto the original letters...

e.g. SHarpen šARPEN... the Turks were closer
to the point of excavating
a borrowing of identity: the identity of posterity...
right now there is no identity for the sake
of posterity...
                                     like year 0
()                              all over again...
and i know )i( (know)
                                   i'm not an imitable crux...
so i'll just let words be words
and the rest will resolve itself,
queer gay or straight; whatever.