. so yeah, perhaps the aboriginals, the argument for the noble savage is there... point being, they have a narrative, more eloquent than the moneticised outside the frantic fanaticism of Harry Potter, a plagiarism of Merlin... etc. etc., with all the scientific superiority, a narrative in collectivism based upon plagiarism? does it really matter? the people who spurn on the superiority of western culture... let's just say, they love to gamble, but don't understand nature's gambling pattern of weeding out the weak... and... given their opinions? i wouldn't want to share a meal with them... contradictory *******... tell them about the Manchester attacks, and they'll cite Yemen! i find it rather uncomfortable sharing a public toilet with them... to begin with... but eating with them? what a strange anticipation of the most profound profanity!
            
                                 so yeah...
  nice critique...
"philosopher" *** sophist -
namely a rhetorician...

i love the giggles,
don't you love the giggles?

philosophy is something to engage
with, rather than explain...
more a tartar steak than
a medium-done slash of slaughterhouse
debris...

ahem... where's your western narrative?
where is the sociological focus?
the focus point?
the campfire?

  where, is, the, glue?

    can't see it...
western civilization is superior,
i grant you that,
but, where is the self-inflammatory
implosion?
  the self-reflecting critique?

look at your literature!
my good fellow!
  the pop-***** of vampire-clad-
neo-gothica?
you have to be kidding me...
too many facts, imbedded with
seeking counter-doubts (i.e. facts):
compensated with an antithesis
of a narrative principle...

a right, without a wrong...
a fact, without a narrative,
is pointless educational rubric -
no more finding an point
of answer, than regurgitating a bunch
of facts...
      i would be so certain as to joke
about the aboriginal culture...
when the western narration continuum
is plagued,
   by inconsistent narratives...
narratives that would never
want me to allow myself
a focus for congregating...

   no, sorry...
           you sit that **** alone in youir
little group-therapy sessions...
i'm about to do a Pontius Pilate
revision...
   i'm washing my hands away
from the gloat...
i can't stomach it...

      i don't want to stomach it...
i don't even adhere to an I.Q. discussion
as astounding racial differences...
i have already the point breaker:
and why so few black athletes compete
in the swimming events,
while so many are prescribed the
100m / 200m distance?

            what comes naturally...
800m / 1500m races?
white...
          the quasi-marathon running?
evidently Kenyan or Ethiopian...

i hate this, the vest iz v besht...
                       i regurgitate on this
factoid...
               with diarrhoea...

for all the science involved...
what is it, exactly, that constitutes,
the gluing fabric of community?

    i hate to say this,
but seldom facts are a differential aspect
    of exploratory conundrums...
Moby **** type of narratives?
the integral aspects...
      science has overtaken the expression
of life, sanitized it,
   securing an antithesis of
misery and mortality...
                    with: "facts"...
      
i might share the pH scale with someone...
but if i don't share the commonality of
a narrative?
  **** me, third party sources...
why should i share?
we share the same factoid,
why should we even bother consummating
this fact, over lunch?!

no bother!
there is no reason!
      live your life, let me live mine...
but don't you ******* even bother
dictating what i can, or can't do,
on the allowance of having invested
in a private property,
you, *******, english, ****!

  savvy?!

  the vest iz z best-chore...
   sure sure...
      love your literature, wonder
of the ******* world!
          YA ******* and your journalism?
makes Mecca pilgrims blush!
  wonderful!
                
...and for not particular reason...
vampires, werewolves,
zombies, the whole generic
exhausted stereotype -
   applause! applause!
applause!

              what?! health service?
i was lucky to have met up with my socialistic
accessible doctor,
   how many? 2 years to spare from
the last visit...
   zee vest iz z best!

            because why would i have considered
studying chemistry to an edinburgh university
level...
    and not began a post-scriptum of schooling,
beginning work in a supermarket?!

nice narrative, love the advertisement...
keep up the belittling tactic...
   glorifying your ***** wiped clean...
nay bother...
  as the Picts used t say...
                there is an actual masochistic
attache of internalized hate,
that even i can accommodate...

                     i hate gloating,
i hate boasting...
   and i hate the sort of people who
self-identify themselves as philosophers...
rather than sophists...
the sort of people:
who, simply, can't, keep, their, mouths,
shut!

don't criticise cultures,
when your own culture...
   is gearing up to problematic investments
of its own,
most notably, the teenage mental
health crisis...
          please...
                       this is not a time scant
for diminishing the already
queuing problems,
   by resorting to I.Q and race arguments...
the ******* can claim to be
philosophers, and entertain
the centre stage...
   i have a bench...
  in a park, talking to an old east london
geezer about rayleigh bikes...
and the scalpel attitude to
finding a prefix, negation,
                in the word disease...

western civilization has been gripped
with an Sunni Islam virus of
a superiority complex...
             they sure as **** know how
to point the good stuff...
   but slightly less...
                dream-detached when it comes
to the current,
    problems...
                  but hey!
the barbaric peoples are our closest
allies of worthy comparison...
   compare a ******* donkey
to a galloping horse!
  that'll fix it!

- but i thought that western culture was
all for the inbreds,
the down syndromes?
  the last birth mothers?!
   so?
        some cultures are somehow
more clingy to a peoticization of
the past...
    which... says much more...
for what currently grips the western
inconvenience in the pursuit of
a narrative, whether historical,
or fictional.

When we lose a loved one we need to celebrate life not death.
Death
What is Death it is the life after youve lived here on earth. So why remember your loved ones dying remember how they lived. Life is precious in both lifes. So do something special to remember them not to forget them.
So if even in youir mind celebrate the things they liked to do and the person they were. So dont think of it as death think of it as life after life. Because if they could they would say remember me for the cute things i would say. And the way I would walk into a room.
Sit in a chair, sing a song, laugh, smile, play, make simple gestures.
The special way we told each other we loved each other.
                                                                                       The End.

I know the miracles that you have done through me and for me.
Yet this depression has me overwhelm from time to times struggling.
You deliver me from it , it seems one day the next day its back.
Feeling like a yoyo, I see your work and know my circumstance means nothing.
It matters not on my emotions but on your love and Goodness in my life.
I shall not forget the Goodness that I have tasted from you Lord.
Even King David went through what I been going through my life.
For many times he spoke of his trials and struggles in the book of psalms.
So I shall try and focus on youir Goodness looking past the depression.
For even though I feel like I am drowning in this depression.
I know that you are my Salvation and I shall dwell in youir Goodness.
For Circumstance holds nothing over me only you O Lord do.

my favorite: tubes...
it's hardly the underground...
metropolitan line
to Amersham...
blah...
the  District line all... all
the way from Upminster
to somewhere like...
Wimbledon
or...
             Richmond...
******* south havebn sorts:
but i swear my philosophy in
the workplace poem was
deleted by peverets...

my two favorite lines:
the District and Metropolitan lines..
Millwall **** *****!
you delete
half baked poems of mine....
even the gods stomach grumbling
and the affair of snakes
and sleat doesn't bother:
the last man:
not the over-man:

               then comes the ridicule of
religion, concerning the supposed:
of man... off man...
            prayer pay me do...
you govern yourself around
a fear of me?
you're not feral enough! not in
the day in day out: parcel?
of...                 you're not ready for me:
space-time: all unwinding
and un-tydying temporal...
you think... you quest
to follow... bother me?!
                i need no applause:
no ******* allowance by
youir scrutiny of the democratic-:
yes... the hyphen attache is without
the acute diacritical e:
because lingo of science is
lost among the AI...
you, simpleton, psychology: psy-
op: pusher framework
of a would be human!
dim: to the wit: no...
       oh: i'm pretty sure we'll
be able to salvage your egoism
in a scrapheap: somehow.

p.s. two of my poems
went missing... let's **** enough
people to justify the blind
arrogance of
how information is passed down
anti-genetically.

judo *******! whoever...
not prescribing attention seeking-*******
not my readership that
ship about to sink with
the clutter and rat squirms
#quick quick quick!