Steal This Title
Tuesday, April 30, 2019
broken robots
the born cynic asks from whence does a dream derive its inspiration. And quickly transitions to money making critic says this dream lacks inspiration.
¶ 12:38 am 0 Comments
Monday, April 29, 2019
remember to rest
Medtner urges me on through these depressions that come from feeling up the fatality of the millenials.
¶ 1:16 am 0 Comments
Friday, April 26, 2019
existential grissle
Boris, it is the blood, sweat and cum from the brothel that bothers the peace in your nostrils. Soak this cloth in warm soapy water and lay it across your face if you really want to breath again in this tragedy of this human theatre in all of its shades and shapes. The prostituted bodies are burning, but the wind carries the smoke away from my breathing holes. There is time and light enough to air my soiled underpants.
¶ 1:09 am 0 Comments
Thursday, April 25, 2019
london
here the people have gathered themselves together as such to build and support the collective neurosis that is their divine destiny. if it is your path it's your path. innit? you know what i mean. else i will eat your seeds ground as my bread. we know nothing of the states that are coming, so this here state is here to stay.
¶ 1:04 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
testing theory
insanity is when you are trying to achieve the same result with means that fail again and again. However, there is nothing to say that causality won't flinch.
¶ 1:00 am 0 Comments
Monday, April 22, 2019
piss break
how do we put sexual relations, the only relations, into the healthy/unhealthy paradigm? that is the let go or be burdened paradigm. i am not waiting around while you sort out your neurosis. thanks love. of course i still have my first mobile phone. in fact i have every and each i ever used bar one, which i smashed into little bits and threw into the river. which river? i'm not telling. paranoid? just concerned with the growing pervasiveness of surveillance. i was born into it. i can see it. can others not? and that's what you call neurosis?
¶ 12:47 am 0 Comments
Friday, April 19, 2019
sexual relations are the only relations
i am writing my own death waltz here in this cavern. i make it so i don't get out and often i miss the meetings down the lane. eventually people will stop inviting me and then i will have a little time of solitude before i rouse myself to get out in my sunday best and provoke the rest. until then i bang my head out in the search for pieces of anna.
¶ 12:38 am 0 Comments
Thursday, April 18, 2019
point the finger
who am i to want more than my existence; a scramble for food, shelter and site for excrement? what is this crazy little thing called love?
¶ 9:57 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
where no look is afforded
i get myself into solitary states of which the groups know nothing. there i enter the discourse beneath the main course. when the groups do get me, drag me kicking and squealing, it is usually at least two hours of eating, talking interrogating, worrying, planning, laughing and judging. there is no genuine excitement. we are all cats on barbed wire fences.
¶ 9:34 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
spite
if they can do it then i can do it, but if i cannot do it exactly as i want then no one ever is able to do anything.
¶ 9:09 pm 0 Comments
Monday, April 15, 2019
heidegger meets levinas
i dont want to force community upon others. i dont even want to be around those still supporting social structures with identified cultural fault. they are either at work or asleep, which are both one and the same. a tsunami could sweep through whole suburbs and the only difference would be numerical. they are already dead. why they then dont become otherwise than is a matter of consciousness.
¶ 9:01 pm 0 Comments
Friday, April 12, 2019
it goes on for as long as it does
in the kingdom of linthorpia we cook, eat and make music. not everything you can chew and swallow is food. concocting smells. scrubbing pots. making spaces turn in upon themselves.
¶ 9:42 pm 0 Comments
Thursday, April 11, 2019
words are a hard fight
i hold onto the fence post for a moment to steady myself. i am a digestive system. everything goes in and everything comes out. the inside and the outside are too starkly delineated as concepts to be of any use. desire blows in the wind.
¶ 3:47 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
auto self portraiture
one by one isolate habit. another habit will rise to the surface. eventually, after protracted repetition, patterns emerge. put them down on paper, put them down anyway you can. decode them. some are as old as the universe itself.
¶ 3:29 am 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 09, 2019
where is community in a slamming door?
usually only one or two make it out of the house better off than when they arrived. for they huddle together uncomfortably in english pleasantries to pass time tolerably. then the trapped animal picks itself to death in privation.
if only we could make the space pleasant and do away with pleasantries...
¶ 3:22 am 0 Comments
if only we could make the space pleasant and do away with pleasantries...
Monday, April 08, 2019
wankless hoper
he was a real prick.
yeah nah don't trust what that one tries to sell ya.
she'll be robin hood by thursday if ya not careful.
ahh.
idnit love yeah? idnit? hey? idnit? yeah love yeah.
she'll be round come next tuesday she said to tell you people if i saw use by tomorrow.
the whistle means it's last orders ladies and gents. gorn off you go god bless away with your sailing. why not twist the gear another time round the rosy?
pass me a suit tie so i can strangle myself in style.
¶ 9:22 pm 0 Comments
yeah nah don't trust what that one tries to sell ya.
she'll be robin hood by thursday if ya not careful.
ahh.
idnit love yeah? idnit? hey? idnit? yeah love yeah.
she'll be round come next tuesday she said to tell you people if i saw use by tomorrow.
the whistle means it's last orders ladies and gents. gorn off you go god bless away with your sailing. why not twist the gear another time round the rosy?
pass me a suit tie so i can strangle myself in style.
Friday, April 05, 2019
london winter eve
it is not even six o'clock and i am already sailing to the moon on this most enchanting evening. it is a crisp preparation for winter mild enough to motivate frenzies of activity of prowlers and lurkers along the streams and tributaries in a day of evening. cartoon characters of men march the streets with chests out in blatant disregard for motored vehicles larger than their swiftly gait. the moon is worth sailing to with you, who knows me well enough to sing me the problems you have with me.
¶ 9:12 pm 0 Comments
Thursday, April 04, 2019
abney cemetry
the beauty of stories was something that chris read for. a good story like a good piece of music or a good contrast of colours between the dark depths of the church and the yellow autumn leaves catching the last rays of the day.
¶ 8:58 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 03, 2019
lucky if you get a good one
the same people who ask if one is published believe that more progress is made under surveillance. i ask in turn, what is it within that you hide from god? when the ultimate form of surveillance disappears, what goes or what grows?
¶ 8:48 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 02, 2019
surround yourself like a king with squires and knights
life as it is does not appear to be the miracle itself. if we push through the mini-catastrophes, the rent reduction game, the chavtopia and dinosaurs in human garb then we can glimpse the miracle of life-at-all in the miracle of any-thing-at-all in void.
¶ 8:36 pm 0 Comments
Monday, April 01, 2019
no state of understanding
a crisp ride out to richmond for cold soup on top of a hill in search of fresh snow. in the land of common sense the lower classes rage in their wish to be kings and queens of their suburban subdivisions. we drag our frozen feet carefully around the chavtastic bundles of thwarted neurological desire. come on drink up. drink away the panic of the day. cheers.
¶ 12:26 am 0 Comments