https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRsy6UuE1mA: beep beep: goldfish trance cardboard box...still beats listening to the passing SHOOm and WHizz of traffic... blip blip sputnik 1-2 1-2... m'eh... this was never going to be a "Mozart"... thank god so few people still appreciate it, after so many years...the sort of drinking song that will not allow you to relax... like jazz might... you are never allowed a space to exfoliate into... become a res extensa... there are clear time constraints... you either do mantra of mr. oizo... pigeons of approval: the republic! nods! strutting...it is... what is it... a literary ambition begins with: to never write like a john updike... or a spike milligan... i don't know... just don't... like don't leave yourself being entertained with your gob wide open... in awe or waiting for a crow to drop-shit a bullseye into it? it's not abba... i'll give you that...id est qualis id est... (whether or not) the quo is not, nor is the qua, part of the expression... you could escape with a Mozart before you had cars... when you had cobwebbed streets and hoof clanking... and the sound of teeth being pulled out without an anaesthetic... and when people would die from succumbing to a fever... but you can surely balance reading some Irish existential blues... and at the same time... appreciating the most "base" music... after all... where's the beat in classical music? there isn't any... woodwins and scratches of the violin... never this... this... infectious ride-along to a B B B B B... bottom's up beat & rhythm... that alt. to R&B: B&R... beat and rhythm... drone anthem for all the eager ants... minor melody element... i too was expecting something as "new", and, "unique", as... a Kraftwerk "revision"... what am i "saying" with: "i was expecting"... i really wasn't... the soft moon, o.t.t., younger brother, demdike stare, godspeed! you, black emperor... what is even remotely relevant to be in the "in crowd"... how obscure do you have to be, in order to place the Smiths as: "first circuit"... KMFDM... joshua redman... i like this democratic ref. pivot - cite a plethora to replace the royal family and... language still remains glue... the adhesive... and i am to be made forward: in having access to a canvas of its un-inhibited usage... yes? however imperfect the end result is... after all... i was attempting to bypass the whole editorial membrane of publishing via: being relegated to a supply & demand dynamic... is there something still worthwhile in a me-to-you correlation of bypassing editors? who was ever anyone who might have insinuated money? i didn't ask for either paint or brushes... i just asked for the canvas to be left: un-interrupted... in the age where ink is not exactly an issue... imagine me having written this in the age of miguel de cervantes - yes, mostly true: not worth either the ink, nor the "paper"... exactly, what paper? what ink? am i not a spider that can shit out its own web / ink? "they" might take away my audience and my canvas... but... they... are... "somehow"... reluctant... to... take away... my... electricity bill... it's good to know when and where the beef carts will pull up, how everything is to be divided... how this... "freedom" of speech is to suffer in the future... a suffering it will never really fathom: without first tasting the spit of being confined... oh but this is nothing prothetic... it's just a yesterday.
Continue readinghttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRsy6UuE1mA: beep beep: goldfish trance cardboard box...still beats listening to the passing SHOOm and WHizz of traffic... blip blip sputnik 1-2 1-2... m'eh... this was never going to be a "Mozart"... thank god so few people still appreciate it, after so many years...the sort of drinking song that will not allow you to relax... like jazz might... you are never allowed a space to exfoliate into... become a res extensa... there are clear time constraints... you either do mantra of mr. oizo... pigeons of approval: the republic! nods! strutting...it is... what is it... a literary ambition begins with: to never write like a john updike... or a spike milligan... i don't know... just don't... like don't leave yourself being entertained with your gob wide open... in awe or waiting for a crow to drop-shit a bullseye into it? it's not abba... i'll give you that...id est qualis id est... (whether or not) the quo is not, nor is the qua, part of the expression... you could escape with a Mozart before you had cars... when you had cobwebbed streets and hoof clanking... and the sound of teeth being pulled out without an anaesthetic... and when people would die from succumbing to a fever... but you can surely balance reading some Irish existential blues... and at the same time... appreciating the most "base" music... after all... where's the beat in classical music? there isn't any... woodwins and scratches of the violin... never this... this... infectious ride-along to a B B B B B... bottom's up beat & rhythm... that alt. to R&B: B&R... beat and rhythm... drone anthem for all the eager ants... minor melody element... i too was expecting something as "new", and, "unique", as... a Kraftwerk "revision"... what am i "saying" with: "i was expecting"... i really wasn't... the soft moon, o.t.t., younger brother, demdike stare, godspeed! you, black emperor... what is even remotely relevant to be in the "in crowd"... how obscure do you have to be, in order to place the Smiths as: "first circuit"... KMFDM... joshua redman... i like this democratic ref. pivot - cite a plethora to replace the royal family and... language still remains glue... the adhesive... and i am to be made forward: in having access to a canvas of its un-inhibited usage... yes? however imperfect the end result is... after all... i was attempting to bypass the whole editorial membrane of publishing via: being relegated to a supply & demand dynamic... is there something still worthwhile in a me-to-you correlation of bypassing editors? who was ever anyone who might have insinuated money? i didn't ask for either paint or brushes... i just asked for the canvas to be left: un-interrupted... in the age where ink is not exactly an issue... imagine me having written this in the age of miguel de cervantes - yes, mostly true: not worth either the ink, nor the "paper"... exactly, what paper? what ink? am i not a spider that can shit out its own web / ink? "they" might take away my audience and my canvas... but... they... are... "somehow"... reluctant... to... take away... my... electricity bill... it's good to know when and where the beef carts will pull up, how everything is to be divided... how this... "freedom" of speech is to suffer in the future... a suffering it will never really fathom: without first tasting the spit of being confined... oh but this is nothing prothetic... it's just a yesterday.
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