durcheinander crawl inside a little further i am surprised that anything gets out these days where lies the motivation compiling lists further the studies to grasp a hold of yet another other wrapped up in the concerns of people wandering the earth self possessed troglodytes scouring every inch for another resource feeding on the waste mechanisms of a 'higher order' society this is called the trickle down effect right down there in the bottom there is no use for a filter need the quantity for intake eating trash the throwaways incensed out kicking back here within the tower am i still in a position to remove myself i cannot remove myself i have burrowed further deeper closer to the artery the mainstay ahah so it is as i suspected all along the signs are self evident the lies unnecessary the population a crime unto itself where does stupidity arise from wherefore are the aims and intentions directed if you are going to sit there and tell me that beauty is purely subjective existing within the individual as a capacity to admire who the hell was the first being to admire and who the hell taught that being to admire the argument sinks into infinite regress a symbolic system of aesthetic ranking arises from within a training ground i think not but a play between perception and that being perceived a growing accustomed to in that sense there must also be something universal in the applicable world of senses that one is growing accustomed to be that an arrangement or category racing to catch the thought wave stuck in an atmosphere of study directing conscious efforts not on a thought itself but on another mode of thinking of a mode of expression a language another realm of thought cross breeding reading in the similarities and differences a long haul misunderstanding piecing together not altogether new sounds symbols machine gun rattles of meaning here a new place space for editorial jiving no jabbering tongue denials into the microphone the keyboard layout is a mess a rife with making nothing more easier than the mistakes of a typo a regress into non sense cut and paste treatises with a tendency top diverge and shatter crystalline patterns emerge and spellcheck gets in the way what of the new wave the slippage the interruption is from a machine is this still a hangover from someone else an editor over the shoulder hanging within the tailcoats of programming a misforgiving assumptions in the form the ideal the correct already presupposes the possible outcomes of what is to be written as though the alphabet was not enough of a restriction here comes the hard and fast laws of linguistic nuts fastening the screws on a living mutation sure fire way to kill stop it from growing changing adapting to environs the pressure stress wielding fear angst apartheid struggle will quicken any lifespan to a death throw
backspace over the period the full stop the conclusion a remark to end upon a note a getting to somewhere where there is nowhere else to be got no longer an escape on the planet the untouched are seen and reserved on the outside of society here comes brave new world what of the fringes that Huxley would have re-written had he the inclination into the dystopia envisaged the naturally inclined border types who strive to survive in shanty towns supported by the trickle down effect surely he was thinking of Africa here the scapegoat of Europe the never going to evolve out of the place from whence we all came this is how we treat our mother she can do nothing but love us and so the pillage continues relentlessly we will ask for more and she will give more than she can drained are the energies that a child thought were without end  ¶ 4:35 am 0 Comments

  preis-leistungs verhältnis what more is there to read to write to speak to hear out of those language and into the next there is no complete immersion the mother tongue occupies territory that it will never give up language is more than an arrangement of sounds there is a reference system historic as much as it is living flexible and regional universal in structure specific in content deceive itself at every breath never bending an hypocritical eye for language lacks action it is always only one half of the being projecting itself into another place a vicious game of hide and seek with self the ephemeral non-substance receding ever further into the horizon as this body attempts to step closer to it chasing a shadow this damnable animal is subject to a complex social web that is constructed on the basis of the sense site specific distraction keeping the animal moving let it not sit still let not the people sit under the sun and for their shadow to come to them under the harsh noon light a clarity of everything under the sun inactivity an end to consumption a consideration for those on the other side carrying the burden of excess of decadence in the half of the world that doesn't deserve to eat just desserts european ego delights in itself of all the things one cannot let go of even the high pedestal is cast to the ground in a dinner party for faux friends feeding on the shortcomings of others cast down in a light of not meeting expectations fooling no one meeting not even their own criteria you cannot convince someone to care all the information is there but the two hundred year old individual cast within two and a half thousand years of evil has nothing but itself to contend with and beyond the death of god what else is there but mankind to contend with act only in line with the profit margin it's not like we have only one planet and 'i' will never see the end of it already come and gone never had the eyes open wide enough to see it when it was hear nor the mind to grasp its passing if you cannot shoot through decadence then shoot through yourself  ¶ 9:23 am 0 Comments

  Bestätigen there is a hellhound on my tail whatever can i do lock myself in my room cold storage tinned food swiss knife got plenty to cut round here just passing time away occupation distraction keep those thoughts on the death drive a new flatmate every day just to keep the senses from building anything permanent anything that may have an attachment yeh i can smell it now for some reason perhaps in the pipes open up the doors fresh air stale air hanging in the doorways what needs a man to do

package arrives from nan a note to say hello bed socks to keep the feet warm and hankies to wipe the tears from the eyes whatever one can say there is always something left unsaid so goes discourse and open again are pathways for communication what could be more motivating than a response

confirmation of reception  ¶ 9:56 pm 0 Comments