Cultural significance of sucking cock.

Hello cocksuckers!
Be an ideal blow job boy or
a girl, a mouth and a face to perform the uncivilized act of blowing.
Cultural significance of sucking cock, the act, what is it? The loving it, the hate, the
contempt, the kneeling, opening of a zipper, massaging the testicles and thighs, the
need for power, the enslavement, the mouth, the giving head.
Shall we remove any hint of civilisation? It is getting hot in here, isn’t it.
To blow is an act of culture. It is to serve. Strangely culture is civilisation. Hints of
civilisation can be removed by taking off clothes, your silks. Place them on furniture
so that it is romantic. There is a dim light in the room. Get nude. Go on your knees
and on all your fours. Suck your thumb, suck the toe, lick the foot. Try it out. You first
and everybody simultaneously fuck.
Personally, trying it out and not expecting someone to do it voluntarily on her own.

Try selflessly. Selfishness is out. Be in.

walking outside the method

Processing translations draped in living room curtains
having them as a dress around me, being of some size, I’m not myself then, now or never, what is myself, because I change
looking up to the ceiling smiling like an idiot, Beautiful! beautiful gown. Like someone else’s.
women talking, producing queer practices bringing up little ones to be not queer, sane and healthy breathingly look a bub, as long as they are extraordinary adults like no one else.
Dear Headind, there is always the future, hope, something new. Oh, look a cup.
Trigonometrics and how to proceed. I get stuck here. To get advance, advantage, knowledge, fingerprints, smudges, sandcakes, sand under soles and it is wrecking. OFF OFF, i shout. What, are you mad!
Technically felt at edge of space
having offspring with animal hearts, monkey hearts exactly put, because of no reason,
they started flying low, acoustic mammals shouting sunlight in curtains.
Perplexity on a peer around me, how did you end up there? I availed myself of the opportunity.
I continue. Not asking if I should. Not asking.
But I open my mouth.

2001: Age of innocence

cat act tic tac itc cit tci tci tci where is it leading?

Choose your favourite syllable and repeat it in a tempo chosen as you wish.
Ok. I’m ready.
or..not at all. It goes on and on unfinished.

Say syllables out loud on a wasteland, in front of it, after having walked over it. Say
repeat constantly
while walking standing thinking them how to say them looking up to the sky shout out loud syllables how they go   gaps   in between, pauses, tactics
inventing teg             ASTRA TRA TRA TRA
stra stra gyte change order of the letters.

What sense does it make? What new views it opens? To tear, tear words apart. How do you feel when you repeat these syllables?

Instant mermaid just add water, writings on t-shirts for women.

Sorry I’m late I didn’t want to come.
Bad a Ball Testicle festival
no thanks
Be yourself
Hotter than hell
It’s yours
Stay weird
90’s baby
How You Doin’?
Good girls go to heaven, Bad girls go everywhere.
Girls supporting girls.
You will be too much for some people, those are not people.
I’ll be there for you.
Funpa: like grandpa just cooler also smarter and stunningly good-looking.
Holy enough to pray for you, hood enough to swing on you.
Raise boys and girls the same way.
Stranger things

Buddha’s tooth

Buddha’s tooth, burnt mark of a symmetrical flower. A relic to worship kept in a temple of gold, temple of the sacred tooth in Sri Lanka. Who holds the tooth, holds the governance of the country, the divine right to rule. Buddha who was cremated left only one tooth. So, what is the other one? A tooth? It is a rainmaker. Ultima essence diving with turtles, ocean teacher, a born hungry ghost, never-ending Saffron revolution.

Bible speaks Job. Where is God? Like breathless, talking people pretending. There is a crack that goes from here where I’m sitting on a bench to the railway. Waiting for the train, bumpy old asphalt hot. There is a crack on my phone, I dropped it on the pavement. I always look for human face on broken surface.

Sentences on women’s magazine today: I was cruel to myself. I will never be the same again. He asked if I had gone any further. How far do you want me to go? Emotionally experiencing is awkward and risky. What do you think I should find, something very specific? Is it something particular, new, unexpected, scary, understood by people only as weird and new?

I tried to measure every word and realised it is not enough, because then I am not me, but trying to please someone else. Contextualised furore, living aorta, flowing, bumping, curling, consciously suffocating in fullness, but dehiscent to rupture and break open. It is something violent to live.

Trampoline on a yard covered with snow, a grey house and on its wall said enchantment.
Reflections of passengers on train window, their phones and laptops glow.
At Colombo lake fishing by moonlight. You really got me I thought, funny beige (Bunny Page) Jeep standing at the bank.
Poor you, Singhalese girl, what did you, who did you meet? I have an idea of normal, but it is not me. It is outside of me. I am not sure I understand me sometimes, but am I irrational? There are things that are normal for me to do daily like brushing my teeth twice a day, I go to bed and sleep at night, dream, but then when I go on I step out of the mainstream. I probably don’t want to continue thinking what is mainstream, it is pointed out, laid there like something I should walk on, but I assume it is the main thing.

Held my breath, kept my calm, waited, standing in the boat of mine, small, it could maintain my weight. I felt heavy, heavier than ever. Could not move my arms to row, holding an oar to hold my spine, I do not worry. I trust my boat, I trust its roof, I trust its surface, I trust its floor, I trust the oar, I trust my hand. I cleaned downtown Silver Sky, cleaned dusty closets with so much junk, that I wonder the person who has collected all that.
Cleaned ink and motor oil stains that have been there for ten years like I was cleaning myself I feel.