why did i ever go out on a friday night?
drinks with "friends" and hitting the essex
club "scene" -
well - no much of a scene -
there was never the music you'd want to listen
to: come friday or saturday -
even mid-week when all the rock kids
were "hanging out" -
what would be chances of being your own d.j. -
catching something really new...
POIZON - church is poizon -
cool mom - something between a crossbreed
of cage the elephants and nirvana on blew -
3rd view - moi -
but i used to: and i remember that gehenna of
a sobering walk - alone after a night out -
like some furious son of sam -
when youth still had the adrenaline with it
and a sense of anger ******* around with
disillusionment -

those were the friday nights: bon jovi highlights
and long hair and milking a somewhat androgynous
look - sometimes the mascara would come out...
those were the days of having milk skin
and a proper shave -
the long hair and the waistcoast and cravat: semi-,

the lonesome story before i met my beard:
fwyday mordaithceirch -
i actually have a name for it...
i forgot what's already the designated
whittle pecker mr. pritchard of the down down:
below...

oh, oh so what...
rough friday nights in my youth -
on the clubbing "scene" -
and always that moral hangover when it came
to drinking with others -
ever since i started drinking by myself:
i forgot the mirror and that bucket
of warm water beside my bed to put my hand
in before going to sleep...
once or twice the company was worth the drink -
but most of the time you only kept
such company: because you were drinking -
drinking was never an afterthought -

now... i like drinking alone -
at least i can keep fact-checking the company
and the odd vocab peacock taking to the catwalk
of a ruminating free-fall tongue waggle
and rummage - the needle in the haystack
adventure - or... the ******* bucket
of deshelled oysters...

there have been some awful friday nights -
but: seeing how i started to give my beard
a welsh name borrowed from a willem dafoe
novel - and how it simply became pointless
to wake the dead with the angry tantrums
of youth: and how i seem to have
forgotten where my 20s "went" -
somehow rooted in: da-sein and how
i "wasted" 2 years on one book by kant -
2 years on one book by heidegger -
and: how i didn't have the time to "catch-up"
on the greek classics -

oh these island dwelling people -
i try to imagine them not being a seafaring:
and their messiah / superiority complex -
with their breakfast that could hardly
be digested come the hour of noon -
or no messiah / superiority complex -
the traffic: indeed - works like clockword...
from left to right...
sidenote: what of fahrenheit and
the feet and inches - stones and pounds?
ounces?
the metric of: baseline 0 here,
baseline 00 over there...

no... Michele Campanella piano solo take
on wagner's das rheingelt: entry of the gods into
valhalla - it's hardly anemic -
it's... the last leaf of autumn falling -
because the crescendo has already happened...
a befitting closure...

the superior island folk and their...
hyphens and germanic loan words -
how almost all names in chemistry are still
in their germanic: intact form of: no hyphen:
broken leg or broken arm...

woodwinds... perhaps... the violins providing
the humming of birds:
chirp chirp: no chirping -
and of course the horn - but the horns never
as prominent as those drank from...

something has happened today -
but i am... left without having any english
sensibility / egalitarianism -
somehow i always equate egalitarianism with
the english - the islanders -
a firework went off in the background -
mr. sloth awoke mrs. slouch after 3 years
for a firecracker celebration...

because who would want to be ruled
over by unelected: chocolatiers...
esp. after their trial run in the Congo -
but i have certainly had worse friday nights...

it can't exactly get much worse than...
say... listening to the siegfried idyll...
multitasking: drinking a cider, smoking a cigarette,
balancing act of folded leg sat on
perched on a windowsill solving a no. 11,289
sudoku from the 27th jan. 2020...
otherwise prior to:
imagine my disbelief at the pleasure -

with numbers to somehow escape thinking in words:
no grand arithmetic linear gymnastics -
of the end result -
certainly no logical statements -
just a whirlwind of numbers complimenting
these few words...
and what a fine friday night it has become:

the pizza was made - god save me from the perfume
of yeast... or checking on the rising dough
from time to time -
the leftover yeast gave me the opportunity
to bake an imitation sourdough crust pretty-as-a-picture
loaf that: would make any mushroom blush
and shy away from unfolding into an umbrella pose...
or a Y... curling outward-inward into an upsilon Υ...

because how could i forget the pleasure of
sifting through numbers?
by the time i attempted puzzle no. 11,290
i had to write a "map"

           a             b             c
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x  
1)   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
2)   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
3)   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x

come to think of it... where's a subscript?
if i'm going to use 1, 2, 3...
to tier the allocation of squares...
tennis and sudoku...
tennis: a game of 7 rectangles -
and how many judges and ball boys / girls?
sudoku - a puzzle of 10 squares - perhaps...
if i'll use tiers 1, 2, 3: a1, b2, c3...
what if... sudoku invoked letters rather than
numbers?

much later... oh believe me...
this is the antithesis of knausgård
writing about using googlemaps...
        
           a             b             c
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x  
1)   x   x   x   3   x   x   6   x   4
      x   x   x   2   x   4   x   8   9
      x   1   9   x   4   x   x   6   2
2)   x   x   x   7   x   x   x   5   x
      x   x   2   x   x   8   x   4   x
      x   2   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
3)   x   x   6   1   9   5   x   x   3
      x   3   8   4   x   x   x   7   x

it's still a schematic - the narrative is yet
to begin... otherwise...
there's nothing smart about this...
i have tired eyes sometimes:
i succumb and have to allow myself
to no acid-bath these eyes in words...

esp. since i speak so rarely -
imagine... in england and i spear
the bare minimum of english -
i can: i have to: i will - when being prompted -
but i can't remember the last time
i had an honest: informal exchange
of letters... lapped up by the glutton
tongue... i looked and looked
and with my silence i can attest:
there's a speech-impediment -
a stutter that's not born from nervousness...
but... an allusion to a "stoic" through
my lack of conversation...

at least on paper i can exfoliate -
enough cider and enoug whiskey and i'm all
sparrow McDermott!
ugh... the devolved scots and the likewise
welsh... devolved nations...
only this aspect of Brexit is... well...
imagine the "evolved" status of post-Yugoslavia...
Kosovo...
this is the only aspect of an otherwise:
fair enough that's... well...
if you lived for 3 years among the scots...
you'd get to appreciate them...
this is the only aspect of this whole affair
i will ever appreciate...
i would pour blood and **** into
the Welsh continuing their...
preservation of the iaith...
forever and the more - i would love to see
scotland start to dig trenches and
forget trainspotting gaelic -
parading like ponces and humpty dumpteys
with "harkccents"... glasgewian bull-runnings...
cousins aye and wee -

a thing of beauty: a thing of union...
but this... they were bullied in brussels...
they came back and started to bully the scots...
if you have lived -
the betas of cardiff - but they tongue: remains!
look far back and wales would encompass
cornwall -
ignorant i of a 26 year "servitude" on these isles...
quiz me on outside of London:
no point...
perhaps i too would wish for the lost
theta in Dublin - towing: to t'ink...
as any sanskrit H-surd does matter...

           a             b             c
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x  
1)   x   x   x   3   x   x   6   x   4
      x   x   x   2   x   4   x   8   9
      x   1   9   x   4   x   x   6   2
2)   x   x   x   7   x   x   x   5   x
      x   x   2   x   x   8   x   4   x
      x   2   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
3)   x   x   6   1   9   5   x   x   3
      x   3   8   4   x   x   x   7   x

but if i will replace... the side tiers of numbers...
the numbers in the puzzle will have to become
letters - greek... probably iota, epsilon and upper-case
gamma...

the bullied have returned from the palance
of the chocalatiers and: back to their old ways
of bullying the rest of these island folk...
because: it's infantile for me imagine
a resurrection of the crown (poland)
and the grand duchy of lithuania -
the commonwealth -
but somehow the united kingdom is not
fated to become the next yugoslavia -

i can confirm - up in edinburgh i was
confirmed by having the hat of Knox having
scalped me -
never is always metaphor: vaguely -
as in literally - in these quasi-paragraphs...
so it's not... infantile to even "think" that
the british empire can be revived?
zee window-licker spezials of
cross-breed h'americana postcards sent?
i nibble to attempt a joke...

oh i can bulldozer this whole narrative...
turn into a berserker -
i've saved enough money to deal
with the label loser...
all it will take is me having drunk enough -
sightseeing the slums of london's east end
and then hitting the brothel:
like an iron-head... to the pillow
and the ***** of a *******...

because i have had worse friday nights...
terrible company...
if i were not a michel de montaigne or a knausgård:
me me me, me me, me me me me,
write enough of that and:
to meme to grafitti... or to...
why are there no diacritical markers in
the english language worthy of recognition?
why would i...
rhoi fy **** y Cymraeg enw?
give my beard a welsh name?
and why is that not a cedilla C but a ******* K?
why not... Çumraeg?

on foreign shores i have made it adamant that...
this sense of foreigness does not
peppermint my presence with hopes to:
add to - an integration -
just borrow what the local have made: left-overs...
and work with that...

(insert snigger) - the neu-vikings of
northumberland...

           a             b             c
      x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x   x  
1)   x   x   x   3   x   x   6   x   4
      x   x   x   2   x   4   x   8   9
      x   1   9   x   4   x   x   6   2
2)   x   x   x   7   x   x   x   5   x
      x   x   2   x   x   8   x   4   x
      x   2   x   x   x   x   x   x   x
3)   x   x   6   1   9   5   x   x   3
      x   3   8   4   x   x   x   7   x

this really does have a linear narrative...
here goes...
3(c1), 9(c3), 1(c1), 2(c3), 2(c1), 2(a1), 9(a3), 8(c3),
4(c3), 8(c2), 8(a2), 5(b2), 7(c2), 3(b2), 3(b3), 8(b3),
7(c1), 5(c1), 7(b3), 5(c3), 1(c3), 6(c3), 1(c2), 3(c2),
9(c2), 9(b2), 6(b1), 6(b2), 6(b3), 2(b3), 2(b2), 1(b2),
1(b1), 9(b1), 9(a1), 8(b1), 8(a1), 5(b1), 7(b1), 7(a1)...

and then a "gamble" in the narrative...
the (7a2 and the 5a2 - interchange)....
it's a pleasure - not a chore -
5  9  4
2  8  7
3  6  1
8  1  9
6  4  3
7  5  2 - this line... what if it was 5  7  2?
1  2  5
4  7  6
9  3  8
if i want to solve this puzzle - i will solve it
and not read a tabloid article /
whatever the hell has become of youtube...
my diamond jukebox...

otherwise the "narrative" continued from
7a2 and the 5a2 interchange:
7(3a), 4(a3), 4(a2), 6(a1), 4(a1), 5(a1), 5(a3),
1(a3), 1(a1), 3(a1), 3(a2), 6(a2)... end result?

           a             b             c
      5   9   4   6   8   1   2   3   7  
1)   2   8   7   3   5   9   6   1   4
      3   6   1   2   7   4   5   8   9
      8   1   9   5   4   3   7   6   2
2)   6   4   3   7   1   2   9   5   8
      7   5   2   9   6   8   3   4   1
      1   2   5   8   3   7   4   9   6
3)   4   7   6   1   9   5   8   2   3
      9   3   8   4   2   6   1   7   5

because i can imagine this not being:
the most difficult Finnish sudoku...
i can almost imagine this puzzle
to be in greek...
where: 1ι, 2ζ, 3ε, 4χ, 5Σ, 6δ, 7Γ, 8β, 9ρ...

in the background all i hear is:
corvus corax' la i mbealtaine...
the greek version of the japanese puzzle...

           a             b             c
      Σ   9   χ   6   8   ι   ζ   ε   7  
1)   ζ   8   7   ε   Σ   9   6   ι   χ
      ε   6   ι   ζ   7   χ   Σ   8   9
      8   ι   9   Σ   χ   ε   7   6   ζ
2)   6   χ   ε   7   ι   ζ   9   Σ   8
      7   Σ   ζ   9   6   8   ε   χ   ι
      ι   ζ   Σ   8   ε   7   χ   9   6
3)   χ   7   6   ι   9   Σ   8   ζ   ε
      9   ε   8   χ   ζ   6   ι   7   Σ

half-way... i just wanted to "selfie" what
will become of this... i no longer write: i paint...

            a             b             c
      Σ   9   χ   δ   8   ι   ζ   ε   Γ  
1)   ζ   8   Γ   ε   Σ   9   δ   ι   χ
      ε   δ   ι   ζ   Γ   χ   Σ   8   9
      8   ι   9   Σ   χ   ε   Γ   δ   ζ
2)   δ   χ   ε   Γ   ι   ζ   9   Σ   8
      Γ   Σ   ζ   9   δ   8   ε   χ   ι
      ι   ζ   Σ   8   ε   Γ   χ   9   δ
3)   χ   Γ   δ   ι   9   Σ   8   ζ   ε
      9   ε   8   χ   ζ   δ   ι   Γ   Σ

going... going... gone...

            a             b             c
      Σ   ρ   χ   δ   β   ι   ζ   ε   Γ  
1)   ζ   β   Γ   ε   Σ   ρ   δ   ι   χ
      ε   δ   ι   ζ   Γ   χ   Σ   β   ρ
      β   ι   ρ   Σ   χ   ε   Γ   δ   ζ
2)   δ   χ   ε   Γ   ι   ζ   ρ   Σ   β
      Γ   Σ   ζ   ρ   δ   β   ε   χ   ι
      ι   ζ   Σ   β   ε   Γ   χ   ρ   δ
3)   χ   Γ   δ   ι   ρ   Σ   β   ζ   ε
      ρ   ε   β   χ   ζ   δ   ι   Γ   Σ

i don't mind a people being right...
but the overt-gloating...
without having to work around the sort
of paranoia associated with:
how the russians are not allowed to glutton
themselves on gloating -
because they are always made
to feel suspcious - the russians can't gloat
like most of the anglo- speaking world...
always suspect: russophobia evil genuises...
tip-toeing goliaths - less the blundering
fudge-packers of "global ****"...
and i kissed a boy and i liked it...
my genitals started shrinking
and my *** started to exfoliate with:
welcome all! welcome all hard and on!
and that tongue in my mouth always helps...
but imagine my surprise when
i started to navigate my hands
but the reply came:
timbuktu and mt. kilimanjaro will not be found
attached to this sort of torso...
wrong dog, wrong tree...

some things really do require numbers...
i once had a mathematics teacher in high school
bemoan the origin of modern numbers
and how we once: upon a time used these letters...
but did our arithmetic with visual aids
akin to the abacus... because...
you'd have to "read braille" when counting...
to differentiate the already: lettered numbers
and the letters being letters -
and all arithmetic functions
were "spoken of" but never depicted...
i.e. there was no VII + III = X...
there was no XV - XI = IV...
eh?! arithmetic was cat-intuitive...
not spoken of - done by either the visual
aid of fingers when haggling
in a market place -
or by the abacus aid in a bureucratic office!

i said this was the most perfect friday night...
what did i have to offer?
no clickbait title - some gems of wording
in between?
the patient reader - as ever - most rewarded -

but... oh my god... the sensation of
changing the bed sheets...
it's friday night and you're... changing your bed sheets...
and they are more crisp and clean
than any political event that the journalist leeches
are milking -
and you do it with a saving private ryan precision -
you will sleep in this bed: well into
11am of a today to come...
believe me: that you will...

- in that i am still walking among the germanic people -
if the germans will sing a: bretonisher marsch...
then the two peoples are alligned by
their sentiment for the crow as their godhead:
alles menschen totem...
what could possibly make me feel welcome?
french grammar is polish grammar...
matin de printemps - poranek wiosny -
spring morning in reverse in germanic...
how many more examples would i ever wish
to give?

there was a moment in my life where...
i realised my faults... i should have read
the Pickwick Papers... anything by C. Dickens to be sure...
instead came Stendhal, Voltaire, Balzac...
because if you said to me...
BBC radio 4... the archers...
and... thomas hardy: madding crowd?
you'd accuse me of being ignorant of:
London is a bustling cosmopolitan in-waiting
from the busy-body industrial proto-Beijing
it was of 100 years ago?    
the French had cosmopolitan intellectualism
100 years prior to the english...
100 years later and it's still not much...
is anyone about to cite me william hazlitt?!

the trouble with the english is that they hold dear
to that one old 19th century idea -
this waiting for: awaiting a revival of darwinism...
the "blatantly" obvious needs a resurgence!
because a michael faraday must most surely
be forgotten!
how many times will this already painful reality
need to be emphasised once more:
intellectually - via a darwinism?
no one stresses the copernican "upside-down"...
or what is copernican "west" up in space?
how does acknowledging the sphere
of the earth - ease you reading a flat map -
moving from point A to point B?

earlier this week - for once in my life i was
ashamed of what i wrote -
so i wrote for scribli per se: scribbles for
scribbles themselves -
the darwinian germanic folk who say:
alles von afrika...
how the hebrews debased themselves
in both aushwitz and breaking their bones
on the emoji hieroglyphs -
alles von afrika: ja... so sicher... so wahr!

ask any slavic person among the germanic
peoples...
where from? wir (ar) sind lesen und schreiben
"afrika": i.e. Indu...
if the african challenged the hebrews
with... "the best they had": egyptian emojis...
why would i not stress my birth
with pseudo cedilla Ş / इ... ☦ -
this indo-european is not... at home with
these african-germanoids...
pseudos and quasi -
these chocolate frenzied busy-buddies!

from the caucasian and further still from
that whittle sub-corinthian quote: continent...
somehow, "somehow" this part of this story
is read: south to north... always a grand
marker missing when the people went
east, squinted... learned skeleton existence,
atoms... and the frenzy of letters:
owls and ******* **** flinging beetles
back in the north eastern tip of
africa: in that egyptian haemorrhage of "idea"...

i assure myself... perhaps the form came from
africa... but sure as **** the tongue only arrived
in the lap of the Dalai Lama...
as did the "thinking" and the music
across prior to the Mongol's curiosity
over the tundra of Siberia...
something had to be placed on a loan...
and coming back to the cradle and the crux
had to happen like so...
not this current: ergo: so...
quickened and: what news from Damascus?!

first impressions count...
i made my bed... it's newly washed...
as crisp as falling onto a bed a prawn crackers...
without the crumbs' itch...
like listening to some german:
juggernaut... this will do... i can fall asleep
with this: grab hören zu der winderhall...
mehr flöte - weniger violinekratzen!
schlechtdeutsche? alle deutsche ist gut deutsche...
erwarten etwas isländisch zu sein
gesprochen insel von insel: auf diese inseln?!

to make a crisp bed of freshly washed sheets...
to sleep in them alone...
given the grammar is not that far removed...
are the french even remotely translated
as a germanic "sort of" people?
"they" or "we" share the same grammar...
and there are celtic freedoms that would
never be allowed to exfoliate under
strict anglo-ßaß obligations...

oh sure! great people! steam engine: choo-choo!
newton et al...
shakespeare: when they taught us shakespeare
they should have taught us bernard shaw...
when they forced jane eyre down our throats
we should have been reading
the pickwick papers...
the music will remain german -
because as much as vaughan williams...
holst and händel were "were" english...
esp. latter with his umlaut that spread over
toward i-and-j...

why wouldn't you **** at the pillar of the empire:
a past most assured - dust, books and moths...
like hell will i come to correct my ways
to state the: pish-poor Elgar... this poo'em too...
himmel... sky...
leerenhimmel - empty sky -
nein sonne während der tag:
das englischnebel: bedeckthimmel...
nein mond während der nacht...
nur so...

i of the lesser men of this world duly bow
my presence before the altar of the higher men
of these isles...
and hope and pray that their wisdom
will not bestow upon them any major calamity...
with not irony or ridicule i wish upon
these peoples... the right sort of oars
to turn this rooted island
into the people's imagined langboot...

there are only one british people a people
who will pursue to gloat having been
conquered by the romans...
being raided by the vikings...
integrating the anglo-ßaß...
a second viking coming via the Normans...
the push-over remains of the celts...
that somehow translated itself into
the: empire...
ideal: to compensate...
the islamic fervor for the... resurrected
caliphate...
jokes about the dritte ***** and the vierte *****...
that's pretty much the precursor jokes
surrounding: ein zweite ***** -
auf welche die sonne nimmer setzt -
ever wonder how that translates with the increased
cases of insomnia?!

again: bad german is better than
no german.

Sonnet.


Amina bondit, - fuit, - puis voltige et sourit ;
Le Welche dit : « Tout ça, pour moi, c'est du prâcrit ;
Je ne connais, en fait de nymphes bocagères,
Que celle de Montagne-aux-Herbes-potagères. »

Du bout de son pied fin et de son oeil qui rit,
Amina verse à flots le délire et l'esprit ;
Le Welche dit : « Fuyez, délices mensongères !
Mon épouse n'a pas ces allures légères. »

Vous ignorez, sylphide au jarret triomphant,
Qui voulez enseigner la valse à l'éléphant,
Au hibou la gaieté, le rire à la cigogne,

Que sur la grâce en feu le Welche dit : « Haro ! »
Et que, le doux Bacchus lui versant du bourgogne,
Le monstre répondrait : « J'aime mieux le faro ! »


Écrit en 1864.

Wozu des trüben Sinnes trachten?
Unter Ausgeburt des Zorns
Die leeren Blicke verbrannt
Sodass der Hölle Schergen
Zur Oberfläche tauchen.
Indes ist karge Landschaft
Blühend vor Tod und Niedertracht

Denn der Götter Ketten
Schmelzen unter der Einsicht
Welche die Welt ihrer
Ach so schönen
Ach so herrlichen
So verschwenderischen
Lüge zur endlichen Masse beraubt

In endloser Leere
Welche nunmehr nur Pein
Vermag zu bringen
Während des Richters Henker vollstreckt
Und Gerechtigkeit
Als hätte sie denn je existiert
Mit Wehen und Klagen
Die letzten Flammen schürt

Welche's white grape and peach
does not mix well with stout
I did it for a dare and all my teeth fell out
There's a man I know called James
How he bored me half to death
I suggested that he take a sip
Then I got up and left

i woke up with a fever... obviously i was drinking heavily last night... i was thinking about Caroline Aherne... from the Royle Family... that sit-com that's unlike any soap-opera and the instigator for the current channel 4 google... goggle-box... trash... i'm ******* feverish... i need to sweat some of this alcohol out... i have glue-eyes... things look fuzzy... or, rather... glued together too much... but i woke up and just remembered those Somali beauties on my last shift... how nervous they looked... licking their lips... i was just thinking: ****, ****... ****... like most Muslim didn't think  having a blast in Cologne... in Rotherham... i'm pretty open to foreign cuisine... i'll eat anything that doesn't move... like i'll **** anything that does... ****... did i message Khedra last night? i must have... like my current fetish for ginger haired women... freckles no freckles... whatever... i'm still "coy" when it comes to ol' raven Caucasian hair... well... Turk or Mongol? they're one and the same... but i woke up with a dream... a 2nd Islamic implosion... a second schism... spearheaded by the Turks... like the first one was spearheaded by the proud Persians because they were like: no ******* camel-jockey... no sand-****** is going to dictate to us... i swear i borrowed those slang terms from a Sri Lankan... honest to god... or allah: in Maltese... but i woke up... remembered that a ******* was inquiring about me... babe... i'm just not longing... i've had a ginger spell put over me... give me a few days... i'll exercise like mad... drink more white wine... let me just get ***** a little... i don't want to come to you with a limp: whimp of a whittle 'ichard... right... now i know what this fever was about... western culture... a load of *******... the Islamic attire for women... the niqab... the suppossed oppression of women... OR... excatly... OR... the salvaging of the male libido... seriously... why would i want to desire what's left plainly in the open... readily avaliable... why would i want to put up with so much *******: tease?! cucks-galore... i switch off... put on a pair of sunglasses: the night's too bright... i see the logic now... just now... oh no no... i'm not akin to the western narrative... at best i'm a subverter... i just can't follow the narrative that: men's fault... for not getting a hard-on... pop some pills because... that's what women did back in the day of being liberated by dropping those anti-contraceptive pills... no... no ******* MEA CULPA... no! i'm always just ******* dandy with prostitutes... and... randomly... a Thai girl... a black girl... after enough suspense and alcohol for both of us... white girls have become Victorian-times Irish nuns for some of us... i literally don't think they're Madonnas... ****** up girls: sure... but holy? you have to be kidding me... i'm actually kidding myself... but the niqb actually makes sense... personally? in my Islam... those niqabs would be white... if there is to be a second schism in Islam... they would be white... or linen prone... a material that would allow some breathing room... but it truly is a salvaging of the male libido... i mean: except for perverts and all the other outliers... men can quickly switch off... from any ****** activity once they reach a certain age... concentrate on something abstract... wed themselves to Sophia... while watching idiots go through their motions of hard-ons and juiced up oysters worth of ****.

vultu mutabilis albus et ater...
        of changeful countenance, both white and black...

that quote alone...
        from the book: answer to Job... by C. G. Jung...
i can make peace with Herr Jung...
       i'm very familiar with his... good nature in writing...

i'm feeling good... best day ever...
made my father some meatball spaghetti for lunch
for work tomorrow: i'm ******* working
and all... stewarding... loitering...
it's not working... not when you're herding people...
it would be work if i had 20 cows under
my supervision...
            the "work" is a joke...
**** easy... just put on a facade like you're about
to count how many teeth they have
with your knuckles... inside or outside
their mouth? erm?!            both...
just pretend... it's a "job" of pretending...

but at the same time: play the game of FWENDS...
that's important...
   also... tend to your fellow coworkers...
   make sure they get the breaks...
   be firm with others...

West Ham vs. Frankfurt... love it!
         going to brush up on some of my Deutsche!
grr... obviously spoken with an English grammar
logic...
          ar du haben ein güt zeit?
              alles (ist) güt?
    
in China, himmel ist runden und die erde quadrat...

yeah... that should work...
English grammar is pretty much German grammar...
we'll: sehen... we'll spiegel...
bounce back and forwards...
             after all... post-apocalyptic Sächsisch
that broke their own rules when invading these isles
and mingled with the Celtic and Welsh tribes...
well... maybe not so much the Welsh...
               finally! some other German breeds...
i'm starting to think... Saxons... Pomeranians...
Swabs... oh... Frankfurt... that's Hessen territory...
oi oi! we're going to get a bunch of Hess!
        i look at the Germans and immediately think:
dog-breeders!
            rot! Russ! rot! Russ! viler! viler! raf! rough!
r'ah!

        its truly amazing watching these two old rivalries
take centre stage...
it's never ever pretty when it comes to Polacks vs.
the Russians... let alone Ukrainians...
but it's like: when it come to the Ing-leash
those proud post-Saxony Saxons: i'm pretty *******
sure some Saxons were like: we're going to stay...
oh... wait... why didn't that migrating horde
of fighter come back?

ah ah... i see... i've seen it already...
when i was young... a blonde was the archetype of
beauty for me...
as i've aged... red heads... Celtic red heads...
i'm going absolutely ballistic over them...
freckles... no freckles... whatever...
skin... complexion that could compete with milk...
i'm driven nuts by these red heads...
******* cuckoo... ****** Tunes: wolf whistling
in my head...
i don't care... the lighter tinge... the darker crossing
into auburn territory ginger...
*****... **** me: she could even grow a beard
and i'd still doggy-****-her...

             that's why those invading Saxons didn't
come back... because of the ginger ***** and *** galore...
same... i would have stayed...
no questions...

   so a few sentences in Deutsche... sorted...
   i'll practice tomorrow whenever i come across those
few that come up to me and ask in that
goot... achtung achtung accenting:
  mein goot Bwi-dish ascent... ya?
    oh... ya ya... das ist goot...

                                   h'eh h'eh...

but it's so different... i have absolutely no animosity
for the Germans...
they became mesmerized by an Austrian...
and... come to think of it... an Austrian is not
a German and a German is not Swiss...
i think it's that simple...
           it's fun... over 'ere in Europe...
it's so unlike H'america... we're juggling ethnicity
rather than race... race is so boring:
so H'american...

                        but i close my eyes... i've had enough
to drink... like clockwork...
my body just jumps into a drum-beat...
the best i could find... it's insatiable...
i can't resist grooving to it...
using both of my hands to tap out the Morse Code
of the rhythm...

   the Brian Jonestown Massacre's: Panic in Babylon

i seriously had a terrible day in the kitchen...
i was working with premade beef tartar meat...
what's this?! i ask my mother...
it's mush! it's mince!
             i couldn't eat a steak tartar with this!
i like my steak tartar finely diced...
yeah yeah: capers, gherkins the whole shebang...
raw egg yolk blah blah... i don't do raw mince...
that's baby food... i need a bite...
so she replies... make some meat *****...
fair enough...
             but i make the mistake of adding some bacon
into the mixture... and a pinch of salt...
oh **** me... that's salty... i thought it said:
unsmoked bacon...

****... not even the breadcrumbs and the yolk helped...
what to do... what to do...
or the paprika... what to do, what to do...
i need to salvage the meat...

right... make enough tomato sauce...
but don't season it with salt...
pepper... Italian herbs... Kashmiri chilly...
    o.k., o.k., no salt... that should balance out just right...

and there's me grooving to Panic in Babylon...
tapping away with the beat...
while at the same time... closing my eyes and thinking
i'm stirring a *** of freshly brought sinners
in hell... don't ask me why...
if i were to rewrite Dante's inferno...
a completely different affair...
i wouldn't take Virgil with me...
and we wouldn't even descend into hell...
i'd take him around London... but i wouldn't be taking
Virgil... i'd be taking Horace...

              klar als tag!

where's that quote i was looking for... it has to be in here
somewhere...
i knew i had it somewhere...
no... not under Lucifer... under Aquarius...
ah... there it is!

          Luciferi vires accendit Aquarius acres:
Aquarius sets aflame Lucifer's harsh forces...

and as i typed this... QWERTY...
Christopher Latham Sholes... in on par in my books
with the Sejong the Great...
the story goes... Marquis de Sade's uncle...
Abbé de Sade of Ebreuil... had a library of books
you would read with only one hand...
ergo? you'd *******...
personally? yeah... the ol' Marquis gave me a hard-on
in the past...
the QWERTY model though...
it's beside a concept of a piano...
after all... there are so many combinations
of lettering that erode your memory:
but you rarely have to look down to look
at what your hands are doing...
depending on the size of the keyboard...
you just peep down and reposition your hands...
but that's why you have two SHIFT buttons...
why wouldn't you?
esp. if you're trying to type out a quote verbatim...
you're holding a book in one hand...
you're crow-pecking at each digit of a letter
with your index... because you're transcribing...
you do need... you do need two shift buttons
for the upper-case... you can't just switch-on
and switch-off CAPS LOCK... pointless...

now i have an urge of biting into some raw garlic...
or... onion... no... not pickled...
i need some adhesive that's also a repellent...
i have too many spiders in my bedroom...
i'm afraid that i'll eat some in my sleep...

i'm still vehemently adamant when saying:
i'd shoot Freud in the back of the head...
like an Andrei Chikatilo.... why?
i just feel like it... terrible ideas...
or, rather... too simple... it's not even the horrors
of cubism of modernism...
do i have to race bait the ******?!
all of the Hebrews that entertained Europe
aas their home for over 2000 years lost
their Mediterranean sun-tan anyways...

oh right... that's how it works?! they get settled back...
the Yids... the Hebs... and what do they flood
Europe with? their enemies...
the invading Islam falafel...
       cool cool... good to know...
       i'm on the receiving end... well... i'm not...
the western "powers" might have capitulated...
try that same **** in Russia...
as much as i want to love the Germans...
at least the Russians are sensible...

     because what?! "on the right side of history"
sort of happened with Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya...
Syria? did it?!

that quote... about Aquarius and Lucifer...
plenty of delusion people where i'm at...
why should i be any worse...
i'm only joking when pretending to be the devil...

ich bin teil aus das macht, welche immer wille
     böse und immer arbeiten güt...

  i am part of that power which eternally wills evil
and eternally works good...

well... we're... "we're" sort of waiting to pounce...
seeing how Western Europe has been left to
the power hungry cucks of society...
           i'm siding with the Russians:
because as a ******,,, Ukrainians?!
undermined the stability of the Polish-Lithuanian
Commonwealth... they ******* sided
with the remnants of the Mongols that didn't
******* back to Mongolia but occupied
Crimea... ******* lemon *******
squint copper-skins... what?!

                i love depitcing our differences...
is... is that... a "problem"?
you know what proverb...

  jeśli wejdziesz między wrony, musisz krakać jak i one:
when you come among the crows...
you must croak like them...
Rome... blah blah...
  there's this animosity building up in
me that's becoming unhealthy...
  i don't have the stomach...
   but in the near future... i see...
someone...
                     someone who will erase
this Islamic curse from the face of Europe...
it's simple Newtonian logic...
  it's simple... i don't have the voice...
i don't have the ambition(s)...
                 i prefer to drink... draw circles...
scribble my little laments...
shout from the heights of the Bastille like.... de Sade...
i drink: i don't dance...
   there's plenty... we're readied...
       i want Saudi Arabia to burn...
             i want a second Islamic schism...
this one? spearheaded by the the Turks...
   i want Jesus t be known as...
the Lord of Mosquitos...
               that's enough... this ****** is going
to fall back into line with hell's democracy:
or else!
           he has had too many years of ownership
of time!
hell's rebelling! ich besagt: hölle ist rebellieren!
genug! das ist es!

he's no son of god... he's one of us...
         he's the Lord of Mosquitos...
                why, though... this waiting game...
keeping it a secret?!
well... no wonder... god is a... ahem...
            marry ****** with Elizabeth Bathory...
you get?! no no... not a bloodbath...
                      because?! nature is benevolent...
oh sure it is... it's so nice to men that will never get
a chance to hear a moan...

what prompted me?
a message from my "girlfriend"... a Turkish beauty...
raven hair... i wish it was ginger...
whatever...

seriously... that's how this world works?
i'm getting a message from my *******: "girlfriend",
hey, how are you... telling her...
i'm good... your lips are like ******* mangos...
mush mush... see you soon...
while the women i work with are single mums
in their 30s... thinking they're hot stuff and i'm
like... i'd be sooner seen ******* a camel... toe...
whatever... how oblivious to you have to be
to the whole situation?!
i'm calling prostitutes my girlfriends because:
well... at least they like to ****...
and these supposed "free" women...
"free" as in... entangled with raising children...
why, would, i, even, *******, bother?!
they're not mine...
            where does it say that i need to "man up"
to raise someone else's *****-sprank?!
if there's an authentic war... not waged
as proxy by H'americans... sign me up...
but... raising some else's chiuldren?! *******...
not via dating... via being a surrogate father...
but even then... nein...
                 niet...                         nie....       no!

nature has a cruel habit of being... raving revealing
in what's considered to be fair...
didn't the anglophone world popularise Darwinism?!
so... what's the ******* problem?!

i just texted my Turkish "girlfriend" ******* back...
we're good... i'm getting paid... tomorrow?!
obviously i'm gagging for it...
but i'll need to... exercise... get my mojo back...
harsh cardiovascular... white wine... etc.
i want to perform... i just can't imagine ***
on a regular basis... in a relationship...
regressing into... having to watch t.v. together...
tell you what... my mother made this discovery
today...
the t.v. show: the Royle Ramily... ****... Family...
and... Googlebox...
  it's like a precursor... although...
the former is funnier...
       no... because it's not a soap opera...
        it's not predictably blind to people's expectations...
now that she text me i'm sort of getting a hard-on...
now that i text her back i'm...
oh... right... she wants me...
           it's better when it's that ******* obvious...
i.e. between men and women...
you want her... she wants you...
        she had about a dozen bad *****...
now she's texting you: come back... Lassie! come home!
Caroline Aherne... i always... always...
what a lass... i can't stress it enough:
give me Tuesday... i could become lazy with her
in front of a... an aquarium... i hate the t.v.:
how about somewhere in Scotland...
with a fireplace?!
                        i'm happy with this Turkish *******
messaging me: where are you?! are you o.k.?!
why not... any woman is enough treasure...
i'm not going to tell a ******* from a nurse
apart... i can't: i don't want to...
      even though there are supposedly more
women in the world than men...
  n'ah... that's never going to be an armchair
in my mind... that "armchair" is going to remain...
"being" an armchair outside of my mind...
"somewhere" in a living room: as a ******* armchair...
not... some... abstract... safety-net...
in the... "back of my head" quiz...
      i don't have a ****** fetish... a niqab: skunk
oomph...
            as Khedra said...
just because you don't have unprotected ***...
sorry... sorry... just because you have protected ***...
doesn't mean that you will not catch STDs...
oh man... that's harsh...
***** *******... they probably don't wash their
hands after they've eaten or taken a ****...
  well... that's me done... i can have unprotected ***
with a ******* and no worry about catching...
Syphilis...
                    tested, proven, done... if i get a wring-worm
puking up a mushroom steering wheel for my
monkey brain to facilitate: i'll let you know...
but even at work...
  around women... this one gives me the most dirtiest
looks... why? she hasn't figured me out...
she tries the intimidation tactics... hugs me...
keeps clinging to me mishearing her say DARLING
while i thought she said DADDY...
****** insinuations... blah blah... blah... blah...
i'm not a gangster... i'm not part of some
criminal underworld...
             but brothels aren't exactly hotels...

prostitutes aren't exactly your next door neighbour
sort of
gals... are they?
so if one messages you: with  a longing?
winged Hussar... she has a mouth...
a mouth that could melt....
a  **** of butter...                    tiresome irk.

Woman: (English)
Hakikur Rahman

Hello woman
Enfolded me in what an illusion,
Shortly,
What fascination you have spread-
In thrilled string, in the thirsty morning,
In the heart of mine;
Time passes by,
Gave up the helm-
Reviving the consciousness, I see an invisible oasis,
For time antiquity,
Became celibate.


নারী: (Bengali)
হাকিকুর রহমান

ওহে নারী,
কি মায়ায় জড়িয়েছিলে মোরে,
ক্ষণিকের তরে,
ছড়িয়েছিলে কিসের মোহ-
পুলকিত ডোরে, তৃষায়িত ভোরে,
মম অন্তরে;
কাটিয়া গেলোযে কাল,
ছাড়িয়া দিয়াছি হাল-
সম্বিত ফিরি হেরি অদৃশ্য মরুদ্যান,
অনাদিকালের তরে,
হলেম ব্রহ্মচারী।

Mulher: (Portuguese)
Hakikur Rahman

Olá mulher
Enfatizou-me em que ilusão,
Em breve,
Que fascinação você tem espalhado
Em cordas emocionadas, na manhã com sede,
No meu coração;
O tempo passa,
Deu o leme
Revivendo a consciência, vejo um oásis invisível
Por tempo antiguidade,
Tornou-se celibatário.

Frau: (German)
Hakikur Rahman

Hallo Frau
Umhüllte mich in was für eine Illusion,
Kurz,
Welche Faszination hast du verbreitet?
In einer aufgeregten Schnur am durstigen Morgen
Im Herzen von mir;
Die Zeit vergeht,
Gab den Helm auf
Das Bewusstsein wiederbeleben, sehe ich eine unsichtbare Oase,
Für die Zeit der Antike
Zölibat wurde.

Femme: (French)
Hakikur Rahman

Bonjour femme
M'enveloppa dans quelle illusion
Prochainement,
Quelle fascination tu as répandue-
En string ravi, le matin assoiffé,
Au coeur de la mienne;
Le temps passe,
A donné la barre-
En ressuscitant la conscience, je vois une oasis invisible,
Pour l'antiquité,
Est devenu célibataire.

महिला: (Hindi)
हकीकुर रहमान

हेलो महिला
मुझे भ्रम में डाल दिया,
शीघ्र ही,
आप किस मोह में फैले हैं-
रोमांचित तार में, प्यासे सुबह,
मेरे दिल में;
समय गुजरता है,
हेलम दिया-
चेतना को पुनर्जीवित करते हुए, मैं एक अदृश्य नखलिस्तान देखता हूं,
समय की प्राचीनता के लिए,
ब्रह्मचारी हो गया।

(In memory of my beloved one)

Kann man eine Beziehung führen
Ohne sich dabei selbst zu verlieren?
Seine Selbstständigkeit aufgeben,
Um miteinander
Zusammen auf zu gehen?

Wo setze ich meine Grenzen
Damit es funktioniert
Und nicht kaputt geht?
Damit ich nicht an dir,
Mit dir zu Grunde geh?

Wieviel kann ich abgeben?
Wie viele Kompromisse bin ich bereit einzugehen?
Von Zufriedenheit zu Glück zur Liebe
Oder immer im Kreis
Wieder von vorn?

Hallo,
Schön dich zu sehen,
Na dann, auf Wiedersehen
Wieder alleine sein,
Lieber alleine bleiben?
Muss das so sein?

Gehört das Wirklich dazu?
Wenn achtzig Prozent stimmen,
Dann ist es perfekt
Sagen sie
Kannst dich glücklich schätzen
Welche achtzig genau?

Wer bin ich überhaupt?
Ohne dich , mit dir, nach dir?
Was will ich, was brauch ich?
Was weiß ich,
Schon?
Nichts davon

War da mehr bevor oder nachdem wir uns trafen?
Vor oder nach den ersten drei Monaten,
Dem ersten halbem Jahr,
Nach drei, nach sieben
Fünfzehn, dreißig ...?

Werde ich je Gewissheit haben?
Das es das ist
Das du es mir wert bist?
Bin ich schon angekommen,
Oder sollte ich weitersuchen?
Bekomme ich Klarheit, ohne dich dabei zu riskieren?
Dich zu verlieren?

Bleib bei mir,
Sieh mir nicht ins Gesicht
Komm mir nicht zu nah,
Aber bitte warte noch,
Bitte
Verlass mich nicht

at those special moments -
when one will be finally able to stand
above the gravestone that denotes:
the first portion of the 20th century...

once "they" die off: the second world war
veterans... the holocaust primo levis...
when all pomp and ceremony
dies off...

see... i don't mind wearing these ******
masks no more...
forgetting that i'm still wearing
one...
   face mask... niqab... face mask...
niqab...
i don't mind because i always tell myself:

the moment i see the next akin
idiot to me... then the fog of bother lifts...
i was stocking up...
2 litres of ms. amber donning
a corset and i was:
like a russian "neugeld" oligrarch...
has the money:
but can't contemplate the mere idea
of "altgeld"...

    wenn unter der krähen
          (definite that! - not...
   indefinite that of die)
                 zu beste ist zu... krächzen...
   wie sie!

             oh no no no... english is only...
halb-die-gleichung:
the rest is: alt-vater englisch...
            mongrel saxon:
                              mischlingsächsisch...

what's a... i don't know...
let's ask...
        welche ist eine sächsisch
  (i guess the same rule applies...
a forgotten loss...
        aN able striptease!
    hence the ein and eine "debate")...
  
       let's ask a spitz... or a ruthenen...
about... anglo-mischling: "sächsisch"...
the great postcard baron...
the great immigrant...
wasser-eves...

             english is too constrained
to the children being allowed freedoms...
that... well: we need to feed the hyenas first...
might as well have... walking giggles in storage...
ethics comes with: 2nd thoughts...
a: "what if" scenarios...
but some people can't escape...
the bulldozer's first plough...

      like: this was expected:
without any high-brow intentions...
no... diese ist es!

well it's not like feminism was going to
come elbow-to-elbow: arm-in-arm:
cosmopolitan solidarity ******* any time soon...
the women of the world: ahem... ah ha ha: "unite"!
yeah... white knights...
and intellectual feminists...
because... a bulgarian woman is getting ******
silly...

or not... depends who's being the doubtful thomas...
secterian...
i went... she was about to play me some
cheap ******* muzak...
i kind of forgot about *******...
i grabbed her phone and put on:

perplex - toys (felguk remix)...
that didn't sink in...
            so i switched gears... hellraiser II:
hellbound - something to think about...
and yes stepheno rey can have all the books
he likes... but... unlike...
his protege... prodigy... barrel of laughs of:
waiting for output!
clive barker: the cult of music...
   no stephano rey film has...
anything near... a competing soundtrack...

who minds pinhead being a woman
on a page and a man in 3D... not me...
             so we listened to that...
and... i cucked myself into a cuddle but...
let's face it... i wasn't into it...
drinking got the better of me...
and she wasn't into it:
because the english: valkyrie of feminism
weren't coming: and she was bulgarian:
so sloppy seconds worth of:
ottoman nostalgia... etc...

        trevor something - into your heart...
and it just... i was once told that tree-hugging
a birch tree was harmonious with
the universe...
         well... starve yourself from
a body... of the yin... and you're the yang...
******* is the last of your problems...
putting on socks or underwear never feels
the same... as when... what can occupy an hour's
worth... kissing eyelids... teasing the nose...
the collar bones...

no cheap **** music...
it's enough that i wake up with a numb hand
because: that's my third tier of pillow...
but... yes... face-masks...

keeping the "hoard" at bay...
  hood... facemask... a complete niqab-ninja replica...
and then a list of excuses...
when... staging... a fictional bank-robbery...
******* hell! by the end of this "quarantine":
i'll be converted to jainism!
and i'll use a face-mask as a religious
excuse like a turban and a sikh might
when working on a construction site
when the debate crosses path with:
a safety helmet "*******"...

a spike in... jainist bank robbers:
'coz' corona & ****...
       hell... i'll find all the right excuses
to wear these men-yoroi:
after the quarantine is "over"...
      hell... out of an argument:
from "amnesia"...
        and jainism... and whatever *******
rainbow i'll be willing to pull out
of my ***: bonus - toothpick for driftwood!

when was the last time i visited a brothel?
citing these words...
my cis-genitals are tingling and...
apex... spawning-man: less the spider...
cis-trans-cis-trans: lessons in chemistry...
do i really need all that sort
of intimate 1hour flings of imitation
"planned parenthood" ploughing?
                there's that... ***** dunk into
a tissue / rubber that's also...
by the logic of the conservatives:
a genocide...
                  why yes! once it leaves
the male... and enters the female...
      there's no "transition" period:
there's no "being pregnant" - rather:
the immediacy of giving birth!
and calling it: a he and a son of sam...
and...
             well... **** it!
let's just skip to the ******* down
the drain and: genocide / abortion cocktail
the next few words...

            i guess i'll have to...
go enough times so that...
i will remember a ******* more fondly
than i could ever remember a past girlfriend...
because: at least the memories can be
concise: potent... detached from...
having invested: cheared a piece of me
(metaphysically)... while she...
gets another tattoo cipher of me having
****** her... blah blah blah....

the lore of: a monopoly on purity -
well... chance are...
a ******* will probably disclose to you
the... mystery of the incarnation
with, words, like:
i get s.t.d. checks on a regular basis...
whereas...
                        the pride and broom aspect
of the:
  if you're looking for a dangerous man...
look for... a sexualised man...
       will probably be something akin to...
the gonorrhea cess-pool of teenage angst /
the ******* ferris-wheel of...
love poems: idealistic love poems...
rhyming couplets...

          went to a brothel to touch some
elgin marbles... walked out... surprised that
some still had a breath in them...
     crustacean zenith...
                 simping and cam girl and milk
and no honey... and "connections" and...
more thrills from frying a ******* - wet -
in a live socket: spastic ******: blunt... yeah...
em... puritanical *******:
like old school views of *******:
same ****: different cover...
             with the aid of a shadow: passable...

otherwise: perhaps... the mere focus on...
water... still... water...
the clarifying soberness of an immaculate
transation...
this whole: boyfriend / hubbie...
girlfriend / wife murk of the self splintered...
the mutual tug-o'-war...
and the running joke passed on by
one glaswegian: to no other:

how was copper-wire invented...
two picts arguing over a penny on the pave'...
funny ha ha and at the same time
emotionally *******...
and competitive h'american...
hard-on blues...

aus die schwarzwald...
        
                limbozunge...
PFefferzufälligdalmatinerbombardierung:
alias?­ the blitz over london:
since... st. paul's will stand... will stand...

no... english is not enough... sometimes...
even: among the natives...
or... not so native... but there are the V'elsh...
the vild: veirder zoops...
again: alias: wolk... ****'s sake:
Dickens' 'em bride! neine gut?
more like: nei gut...

             ******* hing'leash...
some "proper": yorkshire brew and scones...
and... cringe nostalgia...
and... nostalgia of cringe...
          pwopp'eh: Ęglish... big'O' on the
boing-boing "dapper"...
'stupid and inefficient person' clothing
line... by the name of: DUFFER...

           a dandy warhol is is...
tautology... although: with no hindsight over
than: the death of warhol...
the dandy warhols: the band?
a tautological play on words: since...
no warhol: beside the significance of the surname...
the surname suggests:
gravity of worth akin / equivalent to:
da vinci...
                  unlike: warchild...
a mrs. bucket contra: mrs. bouquet...
bou-kay...
                 and there's a tau involved... in all of...
that?!

now is the right time to finish the last
tier of slug... and bow...
and bow out.