"speak your mind": what a lovely impromptu - you know, i spent a good deal of today's afternoon making the most pristine cottage pie and tomato soup - and i was darting in my head: like i truly were an acquisition of some lunatic asylum... i talked to my cat, all i said what: MAYHEM... i shouldn't cook or i shouldn't talk to my cats? i'm still looking for a blank canvas... to bypass editorial constraints... there is no res extensa concern for any res cogitans individuation to mind... i still: only by chance... celebrate the 20th century... via the artistic output to counter... the murk... of years 1910 - 1945 - but then the schizoid paranoia comes in: and we're left with? bollocks...zombie lit., the grand yawning awe of history and... "all attention to" details of journalism... i can't exactly write if the canvas is moving to-and-fro without a decent splash of "orientated" pause...once upon a time it was something akin to: spew words for 3 / 4 hours toward a trusted audience... and nothing would be considered "out of the ordinary": perhaps journalism killed off history in that non fukuyama sense... sometimes the dead are at least given the sanctity of a grave... 50+ audience... that's enough... this... minds.com? it isn't a canvas...today's resonance equates itself to? MAYHEM... i have not checked the etymology... it was MAYHEM... sobering up cooking three things at once... a tomato soup, a cottage pie and some naan mini breads... i even talked to the initiative of a cat that began to fathom "meditation" / the res vanus in a copper-pose, "smiling"... can i have my kandinsky-freedom, anytime, soon? if the 20th century was dark... is was a day and a bit for some years... the 21st century is never to be questioned for not reacting to the nag hammadi library? there was a time when two or three hours didn't matter in the night... now? i actually want to wake up in the morning and drink a coffee and yawn... whatever halo is reserved for the post-colonial masochists... i really might have been a decent gardener... or a cook... i know my own reading habits... my: habitual condemnation of the obituary... since... since? an obituary will never be an epitaph... in that an epitaph will never become a maxim... and maxims, are? the sort of truths that are written in order to hope for them being untrue...i didn't exactly punctuate that last sentence well... never mind... it was a state-enforced dissection of a murder victim... any writing-impetus slowly dies... after reading any of Knausgård's take... philip k. dick doesn't do as much damage... nor does bukowski... i did have to overcome "giants" to achieve a stature of the mediocre... in this grand plethora of doubt that came in between: religious belief / negation... lucky for me doubt is a marriage of the affirming spirit and the spirit of negation... in that it is neither... in that... "speaking" is not really, speaking? can that work... i'm giving a voyeurism into a "solipsism"... i am "peacocking"... hardly a hard-on... yes... the last time i "forgot" to concern myself with lengths and girths of the phallus... i started to build up: beard "envy"... i was awarded the compliment by my grandmother: my, how thick your beard is... now i fiddle with it like it was supposed to be a violin... beard-envy? oh it's reel... like: "real"... am i ever going to bypass the 2nd revision of graffiti via: l8er l00: pan ser - levelling my chances on an acronym "debate"... as quickly as the people became literate... seeing the many 110m jump-over "details" decided to in-group and out-group all words into acronyms and ciphers... i'm a limbo-leper in between tweet / pop / viral word usage... i'm 33 in a body... of a 33 yer old... but my mind is 83: i don't want to keep up... because whatever the 20th century was... did continue into 07... and then? don mclean sang: past his time... the day, the music... died... now? i feel old ageing to reach 40... pandering to youth so scattered... quip: beside the few remaining outliers... i'll take beard envy over any cock-lock-and-testicle-support out there... plus... full wheat-field crop of hair... so something to add to... scratching the head like: lightbulb moment? scratching one's head... that was the first lightbulb moment... although, lately... douglas murray is speaking what i don't want to hear: but nonetheless want, to hear... my my... the sort of cottage pie made with the most pristine mash? even sober i wouldn't be as chaotic about making it perfect as the sobering me... but the fact that i was sobering up... entertainment for the cats... and i am not: a singleton cat lady... forward: the best "thing" about petting cats... that dog owners miss... the completely missing concept of the res extensa: the non-existent leash... revolutionary, the notion, that you can pet "something", without raising it... and there are no zoological contraints to mind... akin to a dog and a leash, or a muzzle... or a rabbit and a cage... that you can revel in a cat's solipsism... but even cats aren't solipsists... exclusively... they are inclusive "powers" at-be... turkey breast cut to size of imitation tapeworm gnawed with a tilted head, raw, does the trick, most of the time, to... "get noticed"... but... there's no leash... there's no toilet-training patterns of 5am shit... 10am piss... 6pm piss and shit... of they go... to do their own thing... and why wouldn't there be a mad dog lady to plough the meme factory? personally? i am bound to a chance skill at cooking... to be minded... but that's nothing concrete...i am finally excused from life on the grounds of...the little truth he has left in him to experience: the lies were a great help... it's not like we're defending anyone circumstantial... we're just lazy about our concern to gratifying a translation of truth... people... don't like truth... i tried learning this maxim by reading fiction, novels... that much good did "it" aid me with... then the somewhat odd outbursts of "truth" via psychology and... "the power of the subconscious"? oh sure... psychology is the perfect whim... the shortcrust cracker... the "stealth" move... the... "summary" of philosophy... the logistics of soul-ownership...in a society that's so humanistic it needs to champion atheism: the non-existence of both soul and god... paradoxical, or what? psychology is championed... in a society that doesn't really weigh in on the existence of a god: god's a vegan... perhaps outside of the hindu traditions... the polytheistic gods weren't so keen on keeping pets: like Allah didn't have a pet pig up his sleeve? do't eat the pigs! don't eat the pigs! Allah and his pet pig: pet porker... ha... poker... monotheism has taught us to blindly follow suite... "apparently the gods have forgotten to laugh at us"... ha ha! why would i listen to anything that psychology has to offer... when... (a) there's no god... and (b)... there's no soul? i am asking this question as a rhetorical-confirmation to write: further... it is what it is: a prefix and a suffix dissection: the logic of soul - one upon a time it was the heart that dictated... like i "said" already: i need a canvas to do my "kandinsky" shit... it's pretty clear: pork is sacred for allah... it's not like allah says: kill all pigs akin to how the dodo became extinct... allah says: don't eat pork - em... "logic": don't eat pork implies: don't use pigs in war as sandbags?! don't eat doesn't exactly imply: extinction level killing spree... if you forbid eating a certain meat... you do the next hindu "thing" and keep the beast... milking it... and we are, most certainly better... than the pigs... cock-mouthfuls while... aren't the maritime scavengers (crabs) worse than the pigs? pigs eat shit etc. etc. crabs are culinary necrophiliacs - but they do boast the most tender meat, available... if only the pig was the dodo in the quran... extinct... allah and his pet pig... i can see it... clear as day (and i'm writing this during the night)... if you're going to be an antheist: you have to at least give these "non-existent" bogus / unconscious "needs" some human ingenuity, some sort of intelligence... monotheism is their most perfect outlet of expression... and to be honest? i still have problems with "identifying" myself in the mirror... i never noticed myself in the mirror when i would attract a woman to fuck and settle into a relationship with me... oh, but this is certainly a mostly kandinsky moment of "introspection".
elevation of syllables! elevation of syllables!
"speak your mind": what a lovely impromptu - you know, i spent a good deal of today's afternoon making the most pristine cottage pie and tomato soup - and i was darting in my head: like i truly were an acquisition of some lunatic asylum... i talked to my cat, all i said what: MAYHEM... i shouldn't cook or i shouldn't talk to my cats? i'm still looking for a blank canvas... to bypass editorial constraints... there is no res extensa concern for any res cogitans individuation to mind... i still: only by chance... celebrate the 20th century... via the artistic output to counter... the murk... of years 1910 - 1945 - but then the schizoid paranoia comes in: and we're left with? bollocks...zombie lit., the grand yawning awe of history and... "all attention to" details of journalism... i can't exactly write if the canvas is moving to-and-fro without a decent splash of "orientated" pause...once upon a time it was something akin to: spew words for 3 / 4 hours toward a trusted audience... and nothing would be considered "out of the ordinary": perhaps journalism killed off history in that non fukuyama sense... sometimes the dead are at least given the sanctity of a grave... 50+ audience... that's enough... this... minds.com? it isn't a canvas...today's resonance equates itself to? MAYHEM... i have not checked the etymology... it was MAYHEM... sobering up cooking three things at once... a tomato soup, a cottage pie and some naan mini breads... i even talked to the initiative of a cat that began to fathom "meditation" / the res vanus in a copper-pose, "smiling"... can i have my kandinsky-freedom, anytime, soon? if the 20th century was dark... is was a day and a bit for some years... the 21st century is never to be questioned for not reacting to the nag hammadi library? there was a time when two or three hours didn't matter in the night... now? i actually want to wake up in the morning and drink a coffee and yawn... whatever halo is reserved for the post-colonial masochists... i really might have been a decent gardener... or a cook... i know my own reading habits... my: habitual condemnation of the obituary... since... since? an obituary will never be an epitaph... in that an epitaph will never become a maxim... and maxims, are? the sort of truths that are written in order to hope for them being untrue...i didn't exactly punctuate that last sentence well... never mind... it was a state-enforced dissection of a murder victim... any writing-impetus slowly dies... after reading any of Knausgård's take... philip k. dick doesn't do as much damage... nor does bukowski... i did have to overcome "giants" to achieve a stature of the mediocre... in this grand plethora of doubt that came in between: religious belief / negation... lucky for me doubt is a marriage of the affirming spirit and the spirit of negation... in that it is neither... in that... "speaking" is not really, speaking? can that work... i'm giving a voyeurism into a "solipsism"... i am "peacocking"... hardly a hard-on... yes... the last time i "forgot" to concern myself with lengths and girths of the phallus... i started to build up: beard "envy"... i was awarded the compliment by my grandmother: my, how thick your beard is... now i fiddle with it like it was supposed to be a violin... beard-envy? oh it's reel... like: "real"... am i ever going to bypass the 2nd revision of graffiti via: l8er l00: pan ser - levelling my chances on an acronym "debate"... as quickly as the people became literate... seeing the many 110m jump-over "details" decided to in-group and out-group all words into acronyms and ciphers... i'm a limbo-leper in between tweet / pop / viral word usage... i'm 33 in a body... of a 33 yer old... but my mind is 83: i don't want to keep up... because whatever the 20th century was... did continue into 07... and then? don mclean sang: past his time... the day, the music... died... now? i feel old ageing to reach 40... pandering to youth so scattered... quip: beside the few remaining outliers... i'll take beard envy over any cock-lock-and-testicle-support out there... plus... full wheat-field crop of hair... so something to add to... scratching the head like: lightbulb moment? scratching one's head... that was the first lightbulb moment... although, lately... douglas murray is speaking what i don't want to hear: but nonetheless want, to hear... my my... the sort of cottage pie made with the most pristine mash? even sober i wouldn't be as chaotic about making it perfect as the sobering me... but the fact that i was sobering up... entertainment for the cats... and i am not: a singleton cat lady... forward: the best "thing" about petting cats... that dog owners miss... the completely missing concept of the res extensa: the non-existent leash... revolutionary, the notion, that you can pet "something", without raising it... and there are no zoological contraints to mind... akin to a dog and a leash, or a muzzle... or a rabbit and a cage... that you can revel in a cat's solipsism... but even cats aren't solipsists... exclusively... they are inclusive "powers" at-be... turkey breast cut to size of imitation tapeworm gnawed with a tilted head, raw, does the trick, most of the time, to... "get noticed"... but... there's no leash... there's no toilet-training patterns of 5am shit... 10am piss... 6pm piss and shit... of they go... to do their own thing... and why wouldn't there be a mad dog lady to plough the meme factory? personally? i am bound to a chance skill at cooking... to be minded... but that's nothing concrete...i am finally excused from life on the grounds of...the little truth he has left in him to experience: the lies were a great help... it's not like we're defending anyone circumstantial... we're just lazy about our concern to gratifying a translation of truth... people... don't like truth... i tried learning this maxim by reading fiction, novels... that much good did "it" aid me with... then the somewhat odd outbursts of "truth" via psychology and... "the power of the subconscious"? oh sure... psychology is the perfect whim... the shortcrust cracker... the "stealth" move... the... "summary" of philosophy... the logistics of soul-ownership...in a society that's so humanistic it needs to champion atheism: the non-existence of both soul and god... paradoxical, or what? psychology is championed... in a society that doesn't really weigh in on the existence of a god: god's a vegan... perhaps outside of the hindu traditions... the polytheistic gods weren't so keen on keeping pets: like Allah didn't have a pet pig up his sleeve? do't eat the pigs! don't eat the pigs! Allah and his pet pig: pet porker... ha... poker... monotheism has taught us to blindly follow suite... "apparently the gods have forgotten to laugh at us"... ha ha! why would i listen to anything that psychology has to offer... when... (a) there's no god... and (b)... there's no soul? i am asking this question as a rhetorical-confirmation to write: further... it is what it is: a prefix and a suffix dissection: the logic of soul - one upon a time it was the heart that dictated... like i "said" already: i need a canvas to do my "kandinsky" shit... it's pretty clear: pork is sacred for allah... it's not like allah says: kill all pigs akin to how the dodo became extinct... allah says: don't eat pork - em... "logic": don't eat pork implies: don't use pigs in war as sandbags?! don't eat doesn't exactly imply: extinction level killing spree... if you forbid eating a certain meat... you do the next hindu "thing" and keep the beast... milking it... and we are, most certainly better... than the pigs... cock-mouthfuls while... aren't the maritime scavengers (crabs) worse than the pigs? pigs eat shit etc. etc. crabs are culinary necrophiliacs - but they do boast the most tender meat, available... if only the pig was the dodo in the quran... extinct... allah and his pet pig... i can see it... clear as day (and i'm writing this during the night)... if you're going to be an antheist: you have to at least give these "non-existent" bogus / unconscious "needs" some human ingenuity, some sort of intelligence... monotheism is their most perfect outlet of expression... and to be honest? i still have problems with "identifying" myself in the mirror... i never noticed myself in the mirror when i would attract a woman to fuck and settle into a relationship with me... oh, but this is certainly a mostly kandinsky moment of "introspection".
elevation of syllables! elevation of syllables!