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Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
.wow, i never thought it would ever be possible,
i'm sorry, i have no empathy for these youtuber "creators",
any idiot can regurgitate the news,
venture into vulture journalism,
  then again: gone are the days of closely associated
with people like Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein...
they are really gone: what the hell was gamer-gate
compared to watergate? gate after gate,
and all i'm hearing is response videos,
it should have never come to this,
whereby journalists are as untrustworthy as politicians,
and of what remains, come the saturday and
the sunday editions, when the petty bourgeoisie
come out of the woodworks of a week,
album reviews, book reviews, t.v. reviews,
restaurant reviews: real, real journalism,
all the grit you'd expect from a warzone...
           journalists forgot they were not kindred spirits
of politicians: but immediacy historians...
the front-line history chroniclers...
i find... these days, esp. these days...
    you know why i like heidegger so much,
and forget the fact that he joined the **** party?
in 1938 he was already disillusioned by it...
so the ad homine fallacy bites the dust...
   even a **** deservers a redemption...
but i find that these days, of all days...
   man, as a historiological creature has to bow
before the unshakeable facets of the biological man,
esp. in the english speaking world...
    in terms of history and biology:
     history has all the fun stories,
and a sensible "concern" for time,
   well... if not "concern" then at least a bearbable
time-frame...
                  after all, i am the one who said:
all the great deserts of the world,
akin to sahara? they were once great
mountain ranges... you already know where
to look between a mountain range akin to the alps
and a desert... bound to h'america...
   monument valley: utah...
  a mountain becomes a rock after a while...
while the desert expands...
    ayers rock (uluru)... but monument valley (utah)
is a transition period between a mountain range
and a desert, if we're going to stand outside
of all space and time, and look back in...
we have plenty of time to catch-up on...
           just like i believe that black holes
are actually 2-dimensional objects:
   that spin really fast, giving an impression
of them being 3-dimensional objects:
as usually represented by a gravity dip associated
with them pulling matter into themselves...
i think that black holes are paradoxes...
since how can a 2-dimensional object
actually exist in a 3-dimensional space?
   that depends on the size of the "3-dimensional"
object / space... the universe is a medium,
it's defined as a "space" but to me...
      it's beyond space... it's only space on the grounds
of isolated time, 365 days,
the time and space it takes for the earth
to orbit the sun... which is an isolated example,
outside? well: there's atmosphere on earth,
outside? vacuum!
who's going to prove my theory wrong?
               not anyone in my lifetime -
besides the point with these youtube content
"creators": where credit is due, credit is due,
but once might have cared for their vulture
journalism... two old farts akin to felix (black pigeon
speaks) and sargon of akaad talking about how:
the youth are congregating to youtube to listen
to music: that's what i've always done...
  i discovered these youtube "creators" by accident,
i just wanted my jukebox back, man,
i wanted my algorithm back, my imprint back,
now that the devil's dozen scenario took hold
of the platform: 1 video playing, 12 back-ups...
and they're all the same, unrelated, *******...
        talk all you want, please, just give back
my algorithm imprint, where i can discover new music...
again... i never thought i'd see another
compilation video, 173 videos bound to one...
and, mind you... after finding about 6 googlewhacks
(googlewhack? when you use the sort of
language that provides you with only one search
result on the behemoth platform of billions
of results, 1 is grand, but 6? it's becoming too
predictable)...
                        so here's what i found
   (band - song):

wooly mammoth - mammoth bones / kyuss - space cadet,
rainbows are free - last supper / grand magus -
                                                mountain of power,
zed - lies / om - cremation chant I & II,
    smoke - hallucination / weird owl - white hidden fire,
orchid - son of misery / witch - seer,
               unida - you wish / black mountain - old fangs,
b.r.m.c. - ain't no easy way /
              jack daniels overdrive - ****** to death,
shrinebuilder - blind for all to see,
                   datura - mantra / the heavy eyes - voytek,
the machine - infinity / clutch - the regulator,
   colour haze - mountain / maligno - son of tlalocan,
dozer - twilight sleep / gomer pyle - albino rattlesnake,
blockback - dead mans blues / greenleaf - witchcraft tonight,
cactus jumper - right way / borracho - bloodsucker,
alabama thunderpussy - motor ready,
                    earthless - sonic power,
my brother the wind - death and beyond,
   zaphire oktalogue - carrion fly / siena root - reverberations,
unida - slaylina / pothead - toxic / sungrazer - mountain dusk,
   rotor - costa verde / blizaro - it's in the lighthouse,
planet of zeus - woke up dead,
     kongh - pushed beyond / ufomammut - smoke,
high on fire - to cross the bridge,
              the secret - bell of urgency,
      unida - wet pussycat / dozer - big sky theory,
cavity - chloride / brutus - swamp city blues,
the grand astoria - something wicked this way comes,
sasquatch - the judge / pharaoh overlord - skyline,
baby woodrose - love comes down / kamni - **** of satan,
lay with me - the flying eyes / cowboys & aliens  -
                                                out of control,
sons of otis - liquid jam / hainloose - recipe,
    ridge - rancho relaxo / bongripper - ****** sutherland,
skraeckoedland - cactus / grails - satori,
    lo-pan - chicken itza / five horse johnson - people's jam,
blind dog - don't ask me where i stand,
     wiht - orderic vitalis / hisko detria - nothing happens,
liquid sound company - leage for spiritual discovery lives,
   goatsnake - black cat bone / gandhi's gunn - rest of the sun,
the egocentrics - wave / propane propane - it's alright,
heliotropes - ribbons / mother mars - price you pay,
che - the knife / annimal machine - condenado,
   earth - tallahassee / the whirlings - delirio,
orchid - heretic / maeth - horse funeral,
siena root - rasayana / graveyard - longing,
           tia carrera - hell / hainloose - recipe,
      burner - five pills (and a bottle of whiskey),
dala sun - guilty for ****** / vulgaari - lie,
        slo burn - muezli / stonehelm - zombie apocalypse,
smallman - evolution / spiders - fraction,
         shakhtyor - e. jaspers / earthmass - lunar dawn,
evoke the lords - dregs / colour haze - silent,
     sutrah - el septimo viaje...

  

who are "these" people,
who: "supposedly" live for the future...
they always cite it,
as the one motivational
momentum of the present -
it's as if they've never seen
a bull itch the ground
with its front hoofs -
   imitating building up momentum
before a charge...
or how a slingshot,
or how a bow works...
   to these people,
the ******* sideways movement
of a bow against a violin...
sometimes...
      you do not retreat into
the past, to hide, to amount
to nostalgia...
     sometimes
the only reason for the reflexive
affirmation, confined to maxims
and aphorism, nay: even poems!
is to look back...
     to reap what was once
sowed, rather than sow blindly,
and reap: what no one wants
to reap...
    drunk? getting there...
       it felt so relaxing paying off
a 100 / 250 part of a debt
i owe her...
            while buying a russian
standard liter,
   asking for a 100 cash-back
of the supermarket cashier,
- the limit is 50,
   but if you buy something else,
i can give you another 50...
- oh... ok...
   so me went to and took a bottle
of shveedish cider...
   rekorderlig...
   mind you? the swedish,
what they perfected fermenting
better than what the the irish claim
to fame is?
    sorry... magners:
               irish? stick to the guinness...
(it's actually the only cerveza
i'd go into an english pub to
drink from the tap... bottled? canned?
not the same)...
     but with such swedish delights
such as the above mentioned,
  ålska and K  ö   nigsberg
                            *œ
?
no competition... the suede(s) just
do one thing grand...
    cider...
- what was i talking about?
  ah... the "dreaded" past...
     the people who say:
  but you can't live out a life,
   holding onto a private past,
a memory...
    so... these other ******* were
allowed to implant a false
past, unrelated to me,
teaching me whether it was
Newton, or Leibniz who first
invented the infinitesimal calculus
method?
                i'm betting on Leibniz...
after all... he took the position
of a ******* librarian...
   and he wasn't buried with pomp
& circumstance at Westminster Abbey...
sometimes...
         one person can't have it all...
but if the education system
is a system that is indicative for
the erosion of memory, esp. private
matters... and juggernauts in
with these selective rubrics of science
and history...
fair enough the basic
implants: numerical arithmetic,
and lettering arithmetic -
    and then... lessons in mental
entertainment... when applied
           to menial labour...
memory is: supreme...
          i can't give my memory up...
that's what: killer proteins
eating the fat tissue of the brain
like starvation in reverse
        of a case of Alzheimer's?
memory is: cameo cinema -
    however distorted it might be,
although i beg to differ on
whether time per se,
  is not the better psychedelic
component
when coupled with memory -
esp. the cinematic aspect of memory...
there was never a "living" in
the past -
      there was a point about memory
to sharpen the edges of
    "dasein"... all speculation and
questions regarding consciousness,
as championed through
a chimpanzee's *** are somehow
pointless:
    given there's a higher tier of
conceptualization -
   working from dasein...
            hierjetzt -
      or in english?             presence...
- because why would i treat
a personal memory,
like some inorganic entity of
a schooling system,
under Catholic measures,
  that made it necessary to include
Pythagoras... but not Horace?
that's inorganic memory...
and unless i turn into some
inorganic entity -
   the organic aspect of my psyche:
my past, my cameo cinema?
   that's going to be a leech,
attached to me...
  and i'm not going to give it up,
just like... when i walk about
my door, and enter the england
that i know on the peripheries...
i'll speak the lingua franca -
     but with my privacy?
    you'd better cut my tongue off
before i stop speaking
my western slavic heritage...
    and it pains me...
when certain groups of immigrants...
don't know the POINT
where immigration becomes
insensible... self-lacerating...
           i once hated their approach...
now i just pity them...
anyone ****** can juggle
     two oranges rather than three...
p.s. old school cure for a cold?
forget the pills...
   glass of warm milk,
  an egg yolk,
     and a good scratch of butter...
  (on the rare occasion,
  milk infused with garlic)

mixed together...
before bedtime...
  if the ****** won't sweat out
the bacteria during the night...
     well... stick to the synthetics...
i'm pretty sure i know why i drink...
certainly not to: PARTY PARTY PARTY...
i always aim for
the one safety net of "pharmacology"...
ssssssssleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

p.s. so much for children loving their
parents...
        in vitro and the whole
m.g.m. debacle:
so, sweet little *******,
       no *******, no chance for your
for a quickie satellite launch date from
Tehran, under all the weight of
monotheism turned secular...
christianity: the only "monotheism"
with overt tinged of polytheism,
lutheran, baptist, catholic, orthodox...
just today i opened my door twice...
once to a confused curry house delivery man:
did you order some food:
i too replied with a confused look
and the word: huh?! no.
then a black woman with a a white ol' granny
came by with a leaflet...
the jehovah's witnesses were on my trail...
lucky of my grandfather,
   the profanity brigade of the hebrew name
i will not dare utter came by...

  and if you have lived a good enough life:
memory? memory beats hollywood
technicolour and CGI...
at least in the cinema of memory i always
get to play the cameo (role)...

oh i get the youtube creators:
   living with his parents... still. aged 33...
funny that i don't mind them,
since they're getting older they're settling
into their solispsism,
        annoying as ****, but i stand them,
thank god the protruding caduceus veins
on my phallus protected me from
a circumcision...
  i can ******* like a girl with a web-cam...
no scented candles:
the no. 1, 2 & 3 on the throne of thrones...
the toilet, simultaneously masaging my ****
and prostate...

men were not exactly supposed to derive
pleasure from ***: they were,
supposed to give pleasure,
and in giving pleasure to one outlet,
they were subscribed to finding out what
best pleases them: ergo?
women would always derive more of
the people from *** than men would ever...
*** is not a story of bragging about
a harem... the woman lies flat...
the man pumps her...
after all... she is the one burdened
to carry a child, why wouldn't she be
the one deriving more pleasure from *** than
a man could ever?
72 virgins! ha ha!
   ah ha ha!
             what's the ratio?
   last time i checked... a 3 hole caravan...
of a woman's worth...
   mouth, ******, ****... and man?
only two points of entry, well...
"entry"...
                    seems that the tomatoe,
really is a fruit, but is treated like a vegetable
nontheless!
homosexuality in the 1960s...
william burroughs in Tangiers...
                    when Islam was quiet radical...

well... i cook, i clean...
                what are my other options of continuing
to write and living the ed gein "lifestyle",
i tried getting social housing in england,
but, i'm not a somali with two wives and a dozen
kids...
              rent, in london?
extortion...
                   housing shortage...
                 well there's me hating my parents,
the outside world just needs to see
an ed gein imitation...
               or there's me living off acorns
in the woods, or rummaging on the streets,
making the N25 bus from oxford st. to ilford
my own personal mobile hotel as a homeless
man in london...

   i think it's time to succumb to your
parents prejudices, if only for the jokes,
no point in making ethical high judgements
to fit into a zeitgeist narrative surrounding
yourself with people: you'd never eat a meal with...
that's how i define the highest form of respect:
if i'll eat with you: implies that i respect you...
i drink alone...
a high school fwend once thought he could
bribe me with his company,
that i "had to" drink with him...
      no... not really...
          i much prefer drinking by myself...
these days you're not expected to honour your
mother and your father,
i.e. make them proud...
               honour is a double-edged sword...
just don't be ashamed of having
a mother or a father...
not that hard: given western divorce rates...
i.v.f., frozen eggs... yadda yadda yadda...
lucky me in having went to university...
oh... really? so much cooler in a cosmopolitan
environment with your contemporary
flat-mates?
               get the picture?
                 paying rent while literally living
in a diguised cardboard box?
i can't help the fact that poetry doesn't pay...
that there are economic factors beyond
my control in play...
   maybe if i was the grandson of my parents,
born in england, and not elsewhere,
there would be some sort of + leverage...
for a bricks and mortar start-up...
plus... i hoard...
         books and music...
                     mind you:
neither of my parents spoke english as their
mother tongue...
  neither did i...
they didn't teach me this tongue:
i had to teach this language by myself:
for myself...
           aged 8: thrown into the deep end
of the pool: now swim ******, swim!

i just feel sorry for the immigrant parents
who gave birth to their children into the *****
of the land they immigrated to...

two days ago i found a heartbreak,
a romanian couple, with a child...
the father was stubborn in teach his daughter
his / her native sprechen...
romanian... but she was already speaking
perfect antithesis of accent kindergarten english...
and almost non-responsive to her tongue
alligned to her biology...
    clearly she was born in england,
but her parents were both romanian...
i've had that conundrum in my head
for a long time...
   what if i married an english girl...
and i was unable to teach my offspring
my native language,
what if i had to silence my native tongue,
"forget" it, or only speak it by myself,
via reading a book in western slavic?
what if the woman i married:
wouldn't see the benefits of bilingualism,
outside of the mainstream economic
mantra of ensuring your children
learn either german or mandarin or arabic?
that worried me...
          oh believe me, i enjoy my lapses
into english: since i am providing the groundwork...
but in the case of having offspring...
e.g. teaching them the western slavic tongue
so they could speak to their grandparents
(i.e. my parents)...
       even my grandparents lament
the scenarios when a woman would marry
an austrian... and she wouldn't teach
her children her native tongue,
and when the grandchildren would visit their
grandparents... they'd be speaking
a crude variation of braille, morse,
   sign-language: na migi...
               i know that my mother is alive
in me even under this veil of english...
because she's more than the womb,
the genitals of my conception, the breast fed off...
she's also the Atlas of my vocabulary
of the "hiding" tongue beneath this one...

i already knew the "game" was rigged from
the get-go... i've seen how one hindu woman
suffered being married to a scouser...
she never managed to pass on her language
to her children,
she bought a library, thinking her children
would succumb to learning: however poor
they might end up being...
but she was suffocated by the english
tongue of her husband...
and her children didn't express even the most
vague of desires to learn their mutterzunge...

that's what worried me to begin with,
marrying an english woman i was afraid
of the ignorance that someone bilingualism
was en route toward a psychiatrist disorder
i was diagnosed with: schizophrenia...
this anglophonic ignorance still scares me...
like: everyone is expected to speak the revisionist
globalist lingua franca: this anglo lingua...
if i didn't meet a bilingual / polyglot woman,
i'd return to rearing idiotic children...
anglo lingua was only supposed to be a middle-ground,
a "no man's land"...
             a language of trivial economic transfers...
a language primarily orientated around usage:
rather than an ethno-centric basis for "englishness"...
to **** with: god save the queen...
the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
                 old scot dragoons': auld lang syne...
those where my forever anthems...
see...
        what gave birth to a jihadi john?
his mother "forgot", his father "forgot":
his "mother" forgot, his "father" forgot to speak
the "ancient" tongue...
there's a point to integration of the immigrant,
an immigrant is a forgetful creature,
an ever pleasing creature...
never to mind himself as an ex-pat...
you ****** forget your mutterzunge...
you'll be speaking in cockney accents
with broken affairs of arabic beheading people
for zombified reasons of grandeour!
*******...
          you, you: you are to blame!
you were so ashamed of your parents that you
delved on honoring them to the point
of thinking giving pride unto them was very
much akin as keeping shame away from
their girdle of the wedlock of your own existence!
death has not made your a martyr...
i guess you deserve those 72 mishaps,
those 72 annoying voices...
and i pray to god that you receive your reward!
i hope that among the 72 you will never find
a chance a repose to find your: self!

integration is one thing,
pandering to the "elites": plebs who think they
are kings among the plebs,
is quiet another...
plebs who go places and think english
is a universal tongue: just because
uncle sam says so...
of those i respect:

y cymraeg: pwy dal eu tafod...
an gàidhlig: cò fhathast bruidhinn an cuid teanga...
i nawet moim: co ma mówić
to nawet tyle: co znaczy tak niewiele!

there are boundaries... learn the customs
of the natives, but ensure you retain the customs
you were born with...
a child, born in a foreign land,
ought to ensure his parents teach him
the words to speak to his grand overseers...
complete immersion,
this cultural abortion,
this cutting of the umbilical chord
from: i have never met a people so
content at having been subjugated outside
the indian sub-continent,
cricket... for ****'s sake...
       as to demand other europeans
to treat them as superiors,
when sitting alongside an englishman...
****-bud-bud, the **** are you on about?!
once again: england has become the circus
for the grounding of what began
with engels and marx...
   wasn't communism born from
engels and marx observing english society?
sure... first experimented en masse in
mongolia... but its origins?

   so of course i had problems finding a suitable
mating partner... i was afraid that my nativ-zunge
would die a slow but solemn death...
that an english bridge would not consider
the worth of a bilingual child, or a polyglot,
or that she would repress the chance of my
"biological continuum nuance" to respond outside
of the anglo lingua refrain of: beside the english language?
there are quiet a few one might want to learn...

it's not easy being a first generation immigrant,
esp. if you moved aged 8, mute as a wolf
to a domesticated dog's barking...
but hey, no jihadi john in me...
           jihadi john should have been raised
bilingual... i wouldn't be the one speaking broken
tourist arabic while beheading someone...
jihadi john spoke tourist arabic...
the dichotomy of the mind to the biological
reality, beside the current, western,
"biological relativism" debate...
      clearly darwinism was "wrong"...
man is, these days, left with neither a biological
reality, nor a historical reality...
              but there is a historical reality:
but it's so knit-&-picky...
come on... philip augustus of the capetian
dynasty?
                 casimir III...
                        jeremi wiśniowiecki...
konrad I of masovia...
                           kuno von lichtenstein...
alles ist gott: und gott ist alles -
  gott mit, uns!

              mit eine leben wert leben:
    erinnerung ist die nur kino
             wert sehen eine film beim;

hell... could be worse:
   i might have translated some latin
of horace into pig-trough comfort food.
Tiana Marie Apr 2018
The life of a Youtuber
new and just trying
hardly any subscribers
and barely surviving

She pulls out her camera
and then everyone stares
she's vlogging publically
and suddenly everyone cares

had she have no camera
she'd be just a normal girl
no one would even look her way
and judge her like an ungodly pearl

yet she still talks to the screen
for they are her only friends
the 19 subscribers
she talks to without end

she smiles as she watches
her view count go up to 40
and dreams of the day
it'll turn into 60

She posts and posts
but what no one really sees
is the girl behind the camera
in real life, she'd freeze

she's now in the store
and talking to her screen
people look at her like she's crazy
and she wishes she couldn't be seen

But someday she'll earn
ten millions of subscribers
and those very same people
will love her with each one of their fibers

So she just keeps on going
hoping and wishing
that someday she'll make it
so she just keeps on keeping.
I JUST STARTED A VLOGGING CHANNEL! You guys should subscribe! I'd love you FOREVERRRRR. I'm barely starting out so any feedback on my channel is accepted and encouraged! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTUVqEPpQV2q_qNvfs3Q1bA
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.perhaps it's a good thing,
that i don't succumb to witty
rhyming poetry...
i hate rhyming poetry as much
as Bukowski hated disney...
Homer didn't rhyme...
  and all the better for it...
this rhyming fetish,
whereby, when you start
rhyming, succumbing to
some quasi orthodoxy?
   getting caged?
       better than rhyme...
   noticeable signs of impromptu,
and absolutely no, so
signs of editing...


      if god is dead in philosophical
discussions...
then rhyme is dead
in poetic composition...
    we, really don't need curriculum
poetics for GCSE students...
cages, entrapment,
   not bothering Stendhal from
the brink of a post-existentialist
despair sitting in
that other graveyard,
  the library shelf...
    and seriously?
    why Jane Austen on the 5 quid
banknote, and not Mary Shelley?

and there's a reason why i will
not make a single youtube video...
why?
       on a certain level of the popularity
stratum,
   it's become this,
  american nostalgia for high school,
the gossiping, the undermining,
the atypical Brutus confidant circle
of "content" creators...
   net-novellas -
   a bunch of people my age...
******* up to the tele-novella
       ergonomics that Polish grandmothers
watch, imported from Turkey...
or the English 1985 Eastenders
soap opera...
   ******* have to be different,
through and through,
drive on the "wrong" side of the road,
then they have to start calling
tele-novellas, soap-operas!

short attention span, sure sure...
no problem...
          do your ******* homework
during the week, watch the omnibus
on the weekend...

what's this one youtuber, who said
something about the advertisement blockers?
by the way...
   Samsung?
     all videos have been demonetized...
perhaps on the odd occasion
a vevo ad... but that's about it...

       advertisement blockers?
  seriously?
   are these people so ******* impatient
that they can't locate the mute button?!
i see an advert: MUTE...
   i think of something,
   to craft an anti-zombie
   pause, moment, anything...
    why block advertisement -
when you can merely mute it...
and listen to the vacuous sound
of celestial orbits?

        within a certain tier of content creators,
it's already the ****-smearing,
soap opera, back in a high school
playground "nostalgia"...
  sorry... not for me...
but thank you, for taking the effort,
to take a reed, dive into a lake,
and breath through it,
while remaining covert, hidden...

         again... numbers numbers numbers...
i'm still exercising a freedom of
"speech", but i rather prefer the
practice of writing, as the appropriate
res extensa of the vector origin
for this cascade, the res cogitans
as it were...

   and there really are only two forms
of nuanced language:
a study of philosophy,
   or the study of: law...
      but this youtube **** show...
   this: back in high school,
no revenge time...

                 i only tuned in for the music,
but then these youtubers started
propping up in the recommendation
list for the music i was listening to...

die krupps postscript suggestions
came up with x,
   wooden shjips came up with y...
lao che came up with z recommendations...

on a side note...
   ha ha!
    mark manson's book...
  the art of not giving a ****...
it mentions Bukowski...
  only read the sample...
        that he was a, loser...
and loser is specifically derogatory
term in American society...
to which i reply?
   and what the **** did
mark manson, actually win?
Bukowski at least won
a childhood where his father beat
him silly in the ******* bathroom...

you haven't exactly won anything,
mr. manson...
   if you didn't lose anything
to begin with;

and if you have?
   let's see the follow-up of
to your bestseller,
         of "not giving a ****";
but we won't, will we?
      - hardly brown-nosing,
the guy's dead,
1997... i have to keep
the integrity of the dead
on my bookshelf...
      
      who reads this
reverse masochism of the self-help
literature genre, anyway?
you can't even use these books
as a counter to a decent roll
of toilet paper!
   unless you want to scratch,
ahem, sorry, wipe your *** with
the pages, and start an **** bleeding!
Nathan Alexander Aug 2018
I wake up, it’s a beautiful day!
Changing clothes, putting my stuff away,
Nothing to ruin it today,
Hey!
Gonna make the most out of today!
Yeah!

Going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and-
(80% of the happiness you feel, comes from genetics.)
...Uh...
(And life is ultimately meaningless.)

Okay, going on the bus!
It’s a little tight, but it’s not that much of a fuss,
No reason to go nuts,
Yeah!
(69,000 bus accidents occurred in Europe, in 2014 alone.)
...What?
(Not to mention that the carbon emission is killing the atmosphere.)
...Jesus...
(Oh, and at least you’re lessening it by using public transit.)

...Well, alright, it’s time enter the school!
Gonna learn, till I pass everything!
My grades are screaming in my face; “it’s all cool!”
(You know what’s not cool?)
Bring it on, tell me anything!
(98% of what you study is a waste.)
...I mean...

...Nevermind that,
I get to hang out with some of my friends!
My friends are the bestest of friends!
Can't think of a better way to spend my time!
(Your brain is flawed, you’re bound to drift, and in any case all your friends will die.)
...Uh... Then...

I can live in the moment, use up every second!
(At any moment, you could get clinical depression.)
You’re wrong, I'll just be happy, no matter what's in store!
(It's quite genetic and we have no cure.)
...Uh, at least...

We are young!
(Not for long.)
Life is great!
(It only goes downhill.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(You’re likely to regret it.)
We are young!
(For now.)
Life is fun!
(For some people.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(Good luck.)

I got a brand new job today!
Doin stuff that'll help the economy!
I'll save money, and buy things at the store-
(Banks can crash and capitalism is flawed.)
...I... uh...

Um... and it's all because of my hard work!
(And the thousands of advantages you were lucky to get at birth.)
I put loads of effort in my resume!
(Good thing you don't have a black person's name.)

I've at least got a nice stable job!
(Until it's outsourced to China or replaced by a bot or robot.)
...Well then I could relax a bit!
(You'll be empty, with nothing to distract from it.)

But man, I'm a passionate teen!
I can be different, and I have career paths to pick from!
I could be a programmer, or a game maker, or even a YouTuber, if I'm lucky!
(Even if you really could be any of those, neither would make you happy, trust me.)

At this age, I’m still able to choose what I pursue!
(That’s a lie, and you're always a slave to people born richer than you.)
Then ***** it, I'll keep going,
And I'll party on the weekend, and sing!
(You’ll either get laughed at, or receive applaud, thanks to autotune.)

We are young!
(Not for long.)
Life is great!
(It only goes downhill.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(You’re likely to regret it.)
We are young!
(We still die.)
Life is fun!
(Until you’ll die.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(Because you'll die.)

Life is a wonder!
(You'll never know the answer.)
Nature is a miracle!
(Natural disasters.)
It's great to be alive!
(You could wake up with cancer.)
But I'm healthy...
(No matter how healthy, even healthy people get cancer.)

I love this show!
(It's probably the last episode there’ll ever be, or you have to wait weeks or months for the next episode.)
The sun is shining!
(It's going to explode.)
Every species is beautiful, and unique though!
(Children have malaria thanks to mosquitoes.)

I met a cute girl, with a ponytail!
(Statistically speaking, even if you two get into a relationship, it’s going to fail.)
I have a wonderful family, it's like no other!
(Considering your luck, your thinking is not special, and one day you'll bury your mother.)
No matter what happens, I can find a home!
(We will all die alone.)
Sketcher Dec 2018
Why can't I remember simple words and phrases for tests and quizzes, yet I can remember almost every conversation we have had in the last four months. I have unintentionally memorized all of your hobbies and favorites. This was a surprising, yet amazing perk to getting to know you and fall in love with you.

I wanted to be a better artist, so I posted this wish on a few social media platforms. I was just getting it out in the open thinking that nobody would respond. You responded. You told me that we could meet up some time and practice your preferred art style, which is drawing animals. We made plans and set a date. I texted you on the chosen date and got a response the next morning saying that you were sorry for not responding sooner. You didn't have internet. We tried making plans a second time and the exact same thing happened. Yet again, you didn't have internet. At this point, I just thought that you didn't want to see me and I accepted that. One day, me and my ex-friend Gavin were walking around, going from neighborhood to neighborhood, just talking about life. Reminiscing in the good memories and troubles of the past. Eventually, we got bored of talking and he suggested that we go somewhere. This somewhere was your house. I didn't realize that we were walking towards your house at the time. Once we got to your house, I noticed you sitting in the back of your fathers truck while you had a few friends inside and your entire family eating dinner together at the dinner table. You seemed like a lonely teenager. You confirmed this thought after telling me multiple times in the future that you wanted me to come over and hang out, because of that dreadful loneliness. I came over at least twice every week and that lasted for a good two and a half months. From the first glance, I noticed your beauty. From your first words, I noticed your refined charm. You gave me a sort of cancer every time I came over. Ever time you touched me, the cancer would diminish and there would only be an elegant light radiating from the both of us. Then, when I would leave, the cancer would grow and pain me. This was only the beginning of my painful, yet joyous love for you.

I fell in love with you, because you drew me in. You, at one point literally, took me by the wrist to a place that nobody would find us and showed me the love you were capable of giving. Just not being able to see you and enjoy your presence was an extreme pain. I didn't think that this pain could get any worse. But of course, I was wrong and the pain grew immensely. You found someone else to give your love to. I was old news. Onto the next. You still had a bit of human in you. There was a small part of you that didn't want me to parish. You didn't want to completely stop avoiding me. So, you just started hanging out with me before school like I wouldn't notice the decline in how much time we were spending together.

I'm not mad. I'm not even sad. These emotions want to be set free and rile up a storm, but I would rather stay numb. When you're feeling lonely and don't have your boyfriend there to eradicate the loneliness present, I will be there in a snap. When you're hungry and I have stocked snacks in my bag for Wednesdays, because I can't order school lunches on Wednesdays, because Wednesday's are half-days and everybody has the same lunch on half-days, meaning that I would have to sit down and eat in the presence of you and your boyfriend... which I'm not going to do... I'll give you my Wednesday meal because your comfort is more important than my livelihood. When I buy two hundred dollar tickets for me and my friend Gavin to see a YouTuber we really like, and I find out you like the YouTuber too, I'll tell my friend Gavin that I'm taking a girl with me and take you instead even though I told him half a year ago that he was going with me. That's why I put an 'ex-' before friend while mentioning him earlier, because in the process of doing this, he said that I was a ******* ***** and he didn't want to hang out with me anymore. I don't mind, because your smile during the concert was more than enough to light up my days for weeks after the event. When you're wanting to walk with me and you're walking slow because gym class made you sore, and I'm walking fast because I have crippling anxiety and all I want to do is get the **** out of this highly populated school... I'll slow down and walk at your pace. When Satan comes knocking at your ******* bedroom door and asks you to **** one and save one, one being me and the other being your boyfriend, I will gladly run to your house and jump on Satan's blade so you don't have to make any decisions.

No matter what the circumstance, realistic or not, I desire your happiness above everything else.

I love you...
I don't expect you to read my story. Just getting it out there helps, so that's what I'm doing. Thanks for any likes, loves, or responses.
shiftingclouds Jun 2014
Let's get one thing clear: When people say "You're all I've ever wanted", they're lying.

I want many things. I want a pizza. I want to get an A for a paper I hardly studied for. I want a room with wooden floors. I want a house facing the sea. I want to walk into Forever 21 and take home anything I like. I want to travel around the world. I want to be better at sports. I want my ulcer gone immediately. I want longer eyelashes. I want to finish an entire season of a tv show without anyone bothering me. I want more followers on Twitter. I want to be friends with my favorite Youtuber. I want a pair of twin boys. I want Hogwarts to be real. I want to be good at archery like Katniss-freaking-Everdeen, cause it's so ******* cool. I want a new phone. I want to sleep late watching chick flicks without having to worry about sleep deprivation. I want three hamsters. I want superpowers. I want to fly.

But you see, here's the catch: What I want most, is you.
What about you?
IN CHRISTMAS IN 1997, MY NANNA DIED, AND THE MESSAGE SHE SENT, TEASE BRIAN, CAUSE HE IS STILL

LIKE US, BECAUSE, IF BRIAN WAS REALLY THAT SMART, HE WOULD REALISE, THAT EVEN NOW WE ARE

PROTECTING HIM, YOU SEE MY NANNA, WANTED BRIAN TO FIND HER NEXT LIFE, BUT I AM SURE I HAVE FOUND HER

HERE, YOU SEE, BRIAN REALLY LIKED CHRIS PLAYING THE GUITAR, SO MY NANNA LEFT HER LIFE, TO TRY

AND FIND A WAY OFF THE OLD LADY IMAGE AND INTO THE YOUNG DUDE GUY IMAGE, IN HER CREATIVITY

YOU SEE MY NANNA, YA KNOW, WAS LOOKING OVER ME, YOU SEE, SHE USED TO KNIT, AND ****

AND AFTERWARDS, SHE MADE A CUP OF TEA, WELL MY NANNA IS NOW FROM THE YEAR 2000, NANNA

BECAME JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, YA KNOW HE PUT HIS STUFF ON YOU TUBE, YOU SEE MY NANNA IS

A YOUTUBE PARTNER, I KNOW HE IS MY NANNA’S REINCARNATION, BECAUSE, HE HAS THE SPITTING

IMAGE OF WHAT SHE VIEWED IN ME, OR WHAT SHE SAW IN MY DECEASED DAD, JOHN ROBERT RIMEL,

WHO WANTED TO **** THE OLD FOGIE THAT NANNY’S WORRYING CAUSED, AND MY NANNA GOT INTO

MY HEAD, SAYING, IT’S ABOUT TIME YOU TOLD YOUR FAMILY YOUR BELIEFS, LIKE YOU BELIEVE IN REINCARNATIOB

BUDDY, AND DON’T WORRY ABOUT WHAT YOUR VOICES SAY, OK, I DIED, TO GET OUT OF THAT, NANNA SAID

AND NANNA, SAID, IF YOU WANNA DO MY LEGACY OF CREATIVE GENES, DON’T **** PEOPLE OFF, YOU

SEE MY NANNA JEAN ALLAN SAID, I AM JEAN ALLAN NO MORE, AND I PREFER TO BE YOUTUBE PARTNERS WITH

YOU BRIAN, AS MY NANNA SAID, THAT SHE IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, A YOUTUBER LIKE BRIAN, AND MY NANNA

STILL WANTS THE VOICE OF PAT, ONLY BECAUSE, IF YOU REALLY CARED FOR THE POOR, EVEN FOR KIDS

IT’S EASY TO CARE, BUT MY NANNA GETS WEIRD VIBES FROM THAT, YOU SEE MY NANNA WAS SORT OF DOING THIS

TO GET CLOSER TO HER GRANDSON CHRIS, CAUSE, MY NANNA GIVES HER NEXT REINCARNTATION JOHN ROBERT RINEL

TO JAM WITH MY BROTHER OR HIS KIDS, BUT, HE LIKES TO BE IN THE HERE AND NOW, BUT NANNA RESPECTS THAT, BUT

THAT IS WHAT BUDDHA DOES, IS RESPECT, YOU SEE MY NANNA LIKE IS NOW A MUSICIAN, BUT NANNA HAS BEEN TEASING ME

SAYING, SHE ISN’T THE BOY IN ADELAIDE WHO SAVED THAT LADY, OR THAT RUNNER AT THE BELCONNEN GAME, NO, MY NANNA WAS

TEASING, TO SAY, OH NO, SHE WOULD DO THIS, LIKE BE RUNNER AT SPORTS EVENTS OR SAVE ADULTS, BUT MY NANNA, AND

IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, SO SHE CAN MOVE ON, RATHER THAN BE A LITTLE OLD LADY WITH FLOPPY ARMS, SO MY NANNA SAID

YOU SIT THERE DOING YOUR TAPESTRY, BUT DON’T EXPECT ANYONE TO SMILE AT YOU, OR BETTER STILL, DON’T MUCK WITH YOU

IF YOU, FIND OUR REINCARNATIONS, OK, BRIAN ALLAN KNOWS PAUL BERENYI IS JACK VIDGEON, VIBE AT THAT CAROLS IN THE DOMAIN

AND DAD IS ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL, AND JEAN ALLAN IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, BRETT EGGINS TOOK KIDNAP VICTIM, ADAM WALSH

UP TO REINCARNATE AS THE OLSEN TWINS, MARK JONES WAS STEVEN BRADLEY, WITH VOICES OF REINCARNATIION BOTHERING HIM

MARK DRANK COKE, BUT DID NOTHING ELSE, SO HE IS SUPER 3 YEAR OLD LIAM, FROM THE COKE, I DRINK COKE, BUT I WRITE STORIES

ABOUT MY REINCARNTIONS I WAS GREAME THORNE, PATRICK DUNBAR, A CAT AND A DOG, ALBERT WALDRON, A HOTEL PORTER AND CLEANER

GEORGE WASHINGTON BLACKBEARD THE PIRATE, ISABELLA OF FRANCE, THE 323 YEAR OLD MAN CRONUS HANSEL AND ST NICK, AND DANIEL MESSIAH

AND MY NANNA NOW IS REACHING ME FROM THE TOP, SAYING, NOW, MY NANNA IS JOHN ROBERT RINEL, THE REASON WHY I KNOW IT’S MY NANNA

BECAUSE I GET VIBES, YA SEE, MY NANNA WANTED TO BE MORE LIKE MY BROTHER, CAUSE SHE KNEW I DRINK, AND SHE WANTED ME TO OUT LIVE DAD

BUT I KNOW THE TRUTH, BUT I WANT TO KEEP IT ON THE INTERNET

JOHN ROBERT RINEL, YOU WERE MY NANNA WHO DIED IN 1997

BUT PLEASE. LET MY NANNA’S CREATIVE SPIRIT FLY OVER YOU, SHE KNITTED, YOU DO MUSIC ALL CREATIVE

YOU ARE THE NEXT GEN UP FROM MY NANNA, JUST THE REINCARNATION CREATIVITY
Indeed May 2020
I never fell nor my towers of expectations ever fell,
but they always fell who tried to make me fall.


__unknown

#carryminati
#carryminati
Lucy Bryant May 2014
I was born in Lynchburg, Virginia
~
My family had lived in Virginia for about 10 years before I was born
~
We moved exactly 1 month later
~
I was extremely rambunctious due to my own father's genes
~
When I was 3 years old I had gotten this old antique piano
out of our new house's closet and began to play O' Christmas tree
with out any help
~
I was enrolled in ballet classes at about 4 years old
~
I had then gone to school for the first time at 6 years old
~
Nobody liked me in kindergarten. In fact I brought in a sign language book and all the teachers laughed at me. (I just thought it would be something cool to bring)
~
In 2007, my father had been diagnosed with a liver disease and the doctors had told him that they couldn't do anything about it. He was going to die
~
But, he went to a different doctor and they told him he would survive
~
He just wouldn't be able to do a lot of things like go to work or family vacations
~
In 6th grade I realized that I wanted to be an actress and get more in to singing.
~
I also wanted to be a singer. And a dancer. And an interior designer. And a youtuber. And a poet. And a musician.
~
So I decided to try out for show choir. Where I belong.
apollota Aug 2015
Let's talk about that dreaded subject that students hate and probably wish wasn't real. Let's talk about School.

I don't understand it.
We sit in a boring room for six or more hours and 'learn' about stuff that most of us won't use when we're finished. Then, to make it all worse; they decide to test us. A couple letters to define us. They split us off into A's and F's, like it's a label. Like it matters, but it doesn't. Oh, **** it doesn't.
I know what you're thinking; "Oh, you're just a teenager. You're just lazy and don't understand." Yeah, I may be a teenager, but I still have the ability to realize when my time is being wasted. I don't want my time to be wasted. I've spent more of my life in a crumby, stuffy school room than with my family.
The education system is flawed and I'm not the only one who sees it.
I want to direct you to a video on Youtube titled "Don't Stay In School." uploaded by a Youtuber by the name of BoyInABand.
Listen to it. Listen to the whole thing and then tell me if you think the education system is perfectly fine because news flash, it's not.
Now I'll direct you to another video; "I Will Not Let An Exam Result Decide My Fate" by Suli Breaks. Listen to it.

School isn't about learning anymore. It's about passing.
What about the kids who can't memorize formulas and specific dates? Should we just sit there and fail? No, because we're not learning. And, sure, teachers will tell you to get a tutor or go to them for extra help, but most of the time it never works. At least not for me.

I can't memorize for ****, so I suffer.
You don't need to go to school to get an education.
The way I see it? School is school. If you want to go to school then that's cool, but don't **** on the people who dropout of school.

You know that little, interesting yet surprisingly weird website called Tumblr and the founder; David Karp. He dropped out of high school and look where he is now.

Don't knock down the players just because they don't understand the game.
2015-08-20
Gerard M May 2021
I found them cause of music or YouTube

Some of them I knew who they were

But didn't care about them when I was younger

They're the ones who I say "Top Of The Morning To Ya Laddies" or "Where's The Black Smith" with

Or instead sing Oh Miss Believer or Thnks Fr Th Mmrs with

Most of them I consider my best friends

Some of them are Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andy

Others are Jimmy, Chris, Chandler, and Karl

They're there for me when any actual people aren't

They're the ones who don't care about the fact that I'm LGBTQ+

They just see me as another human being that's a fan of their music or channel

I try to remind myself about the Fall Out Boy lyric "You Are What You Love Not Who Loves You"

And tell myself that I'll be like Frank Iero and JackSepticEye

Some of them are the reason why I'm going to be a youtuber

I ask myself all the time how in the world did they somehow wind up being someone I consider friends
HI DUDES

I JUST UPLOADED THIS WEEKS VERSION OF MY CHART SHOW, WHERE MY MOTTO IS

PLAY THE OLD MUSIC, COUNTDOWN THE NEW, AND I UPLOADED TWO SONGS FROM

ANGRY ANDERSON FROM YESTERDAYS CONVOY FESTIVAL AT GUNGAHLIN

PRETTY RAD ISN’T IT, I USE MY CHARACTER, BERNETTE PETERS, WHO IS MY LITTLE GIRL IN ME

THE ORANGE HAIR WANNA BE, THIS ISN’T STRANGE BEHAVIOUR, THIS IS COOL BEHAVIOUR

PERFORMING ON YOUTUBE, AND THANKS FOR GIVING ME A FEW VIEWS, I LOOK AT ESTIMATED TIME WATCHED

AND I THANK YOU THERE TOO, DON’T STOP BEING ENTERTAINED BY ME, I WILL BE A YOUTUBER TILL THE END

WHICH I HOPE ISN’T FOR A LONG TIME

WELL DONE TO THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS, BEATING SEATTLE, 4TH WIN THIS CENTURY

I AM BOPPING BERNETTE PETERSON, AND I SHAKE MY HEAD TO TOE, I SHAKE ALL OVER TILL I ROCK ‘EM ALL OVER YEAH

I PARTY RIGHT, YEAH, I PARTY RIGHT

YEAH, IF YA LIKE ANGRY ANDERSON, CHECK OUT MY VIDS OF ROCK AND ROLL OUTLAW AND WE CAN’T BE BEATEN

I WILL UPLOAD MORE IN THE FUTURE, ESPECIALLY THE PARADE

SORRY FOR MY ONES THAT DIDN’T MAKE IT, MY COMPUTER ONLY ALLOWS A FEW QUICKIES A DAY, OK

AAA YOUTUBE TV, IS WHERE THE NEW UPLOADS ARE OK

THANKS TO TWITTER FOR FAVOURITING MY WE CAN’T BE BEATEN UPLOAD, OK DUDES
lotus lord Apr 2016
I watch you everyday

From random videos to watching YouTube's

You give people hobbies and jobs

You give the a chance to creative and show the world who they are

Sometimes to question runs though my mind
Do I have what it takes to be a youtuber to

I just push it aside and continue watching
AaliyahGisele Mar 2017
My stomach is weak, my stomach is cramping,
I'm on my monthly, that's why I'm crabby,
I've been feeling so grumpy and ******,
The only way I'll be calm and relaxed, is if I watch the pretty YouTuber, Bambi,
I need something to laugh at, so I go to vine and I looked up, "Young Papi".
Gerard M May 2021
Some people came to the SAVANT's home for a dinner party at his new house
But what they didn't know is that night would be a night of LIFE or DEATH
All but the SAVANT, the JOURNALIST, and the BIG GAME HUNTER died

Then the SORCERESS possesses the SAVANT and has him write more invites
But this time to a Victorian Era ball that the SAVANT didn't know of
Just like last time the night was a night of LIFE or DEATH
This time everyone but the THESPIAN and the MYSTIC died
Even the SAVANT too but was brought back to life

This time the SAVANT asked a bunch of his youtuber friends
To help him save the town of Everlock that's stuck in the 1970s
Once again it was a night of LIFE or DEATH
This time the SAVANT is alive and made it out of the town
So is the DETECTIVE and the TROUBLEMAKER who's now part of the SOCIETY AGAINST EVIL
But the DETECTIVE was RESURRECTED by a magical harp

Now the SAVANT has to save his friends who have fallen in past eras
This was the final night of LIFE or DEATH
Most of his friends died a second time but all except one died before
Just like with the DETECTIVE being RESURRECTED so was the DUCHESS
The one that didn't die before but escaped the night was the P L A Y B O Y
But this time the SAVANT didn't make it out alive but was trapped in n Pandora's Box

The only guest to ESCAPE THE NIGHT were the JOURNALIST and the BIG GAME HUNTER the first time
The second time it was the THESPIAN and the MYSTIC only
The third time it was the DETECTIVE and the TROUBLEMAKER
The forth and final time it was the DUCHESS and the P L A Y B O Y
a poem about the YouTube show Escape The Night
Gerard M Aug 2021
If Doctor Who wasn't around when I was 6
I wouldn't have ever said "BOWTIES ARE COOL"

If Edgar Allan Poe wasn't a poet that I found when I was 16
I wouldn't have ever read and said "QUOTE THE RAVEN NEVERMORE"

If MrBeast wasn't a youtuber that I became a fan of when I was 17
I wouldn't have a group of people I consider friends
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
i don't think there's a disparity between men being
more prone to painting,
        and women being more prone to writing...
you ever seen a make-up tutorial?
        you see how much "painting" a woman
makes comprehensible, to affix herself the status
of a mona lisa / madonna...
                   no amount of poetry goes into her
make-up routine...
                  as a man, you really do get a chance
to paint a mona lisa...
     given that women spend so much time pampering
themselves;
most of the time i'm repeating words from
hotel transylvania...
where frank farts behind murray's (the mummy's)
back while talking...
        just the words: you're kidding me, right?
             this is in relation to a youtuber: chloe arden...
oh believe me, i have a godmother that has a deep voice...
and she didn't shave her legs...
     being a doctor and all...
                 this is a teenager's prank of, what can't
be a "transgender" motif...
                        no man, however "trans" gender prone they
are, can compete with a woman's skill
  for applying make-up...
             they might, say... tell you something about
painting on a blank canvas... say...
                picasso's the three dancers....
  but make-up?
                         that's what i'm referencing...
                                          you're kidding me, right?
western society, has, really, become,
                                         a, synonym, for, an, asylum;
prescribing children a.d.h.d. medication...
                      is, as sadistic, as, giving a cat some l.s.d.;
the ******* won't even drink milk these days!
not like in the classic cartoons...
                          the've become lactose intolerant.
ES Oct 2017
I'd compare you to every youtuber I've subscribed with
The ads are all worth it
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
i might have riddled my fractions wrong,
the whole youtuber status
closure of
subscribers contra views,
and vice versus...

                but then i remember...
the brothel... and Turks bringing in
an array of Bulgarian prostitutes onto these
isles...

     you ever talk with criminals?!
   black sabbath('s) song...
solitude...
the dead end f night...
falling face-first into a cauldron
of autumn leaves...
to experience more of a sigh
than a breath...

i fall to my knees in praise,
O Lord...
                  govern my in my faults,
as i am to celebrate you
in your virtues...

ever talk your worth with criminals?!
the rim barons?!
  no, not once, not ever?!
shame... a real shame, to
exact a passing of judgement...

so no talk with criminals?!
               i'm this close |   |
to feeling eager stooping...
but?
i'm not...
           prostitutes
are not cheap meat...
    comes at a price...
      you want to buy that sort of flesh...
you buy from,
the ssort of vendors...
you never want to meet again...
savvy?!

    i said: savvy?!
           you want to tickle at this
underworld... **** me...
be my guest...
all you want! al you can fathom!
take your pick and periwinkle china
brigade
to "mind" manners...
      
no... you don't give your say
among these people...
you serve me your extra
and i'll cut your ***** off...
and that's me playing, nice!
******...
not here, not now...
you savvy?

you don't talk to criminals
with the way you want to talk
to them... o.k.?!
savvy?!
i said, savvy?!
you **** around here your
***** are
Brussels pâté, you *******
****!
this **** isn't even
ordinance of joining
the army...

             you join the *******
army when joining the
army...
when you enter a brothel?
you're clinging toward
a basis for... Ronin...

              want to experience
the dialectical "enterprise"?
want to talk it over with
criminals?

                   no.... you still don't get it...
mouth-off all you want...
keep talking...
           just keep talking...
i was shy...
ready to head-**** one of the Turkish
brothel Janissary....
  
since i'm of the awareness:
give me a bulls-eye,
and i'll give you a head-but!

for someone who's never
experienced genuine criminality...
the current, moral, "genuineness"....
what a,
lackluster.

— The End —