Kartonkimainosteksti, josta kirjoitin muistiin, On the edge of Nigaraguan rainforest, ja josta jatkoin koiraan, joka on koulutettu seisomaan istuvaa lintua.
ASTUIN SISÄÄN. ISTUIN VAPAALLE PENKILLE. JOKU LAULOI YKSINÄISYYDESTÄÄN JA näytti onnelliselta LAULAESSAAN. LIKAINEN TUKKA, SÄTEILEVÄ NAAMA, VENYNYT VAATE, KEHO, JOKA OLI LÄHDÖSSÄ, mutta pää ei kyennyt liikkumaan muuten kuin suun kohdalta.
Milloin sodassa, milloin rakkaudessa milloin missäkin. Taskussa puhelin sydän, jota odotan. Kosketan, avaan sen. RIKO SLIIKE, persikat puuttuu.
IN OUR HEARTS KYSEINEN HENKILÖ NIM.MERKKI NASTY HEMORRIDGE VÄHÄN SIINÄ SITÄ ROSKISTA HEILUTTELIT,,, VIRTAA VERI JA OLUT. HOTELLILLA EI OLLUT VIELÄKÄÄN PATJOJA. ONKO MISS FINLANDILLA KOMMENTOITAVAA? IHAN SKANDAALIMAISTA. Mitä vittua?
Tänään tajunnanvirtaa + TV-tarjonta yhdistelmäperäkärry. Päivän lause – Hulluudella on miljoonat kasvot; tähän mieheen liittyy parkkipaikalla oleva tumma mersu, josta löytyi tän jätkän lompakko ja katkaistu haulikko. On ollu kaikenlaista projektia. SEIS!! Maahan, maahan!! Otimme hänet kiinni.
sittensittensittensittensittenglad glad, glad, dgal lgda glda agld jne jne
nain lisata hyvaa mielta ja ihmisten jaksamista ja elamanhallintaa.
PAISTINPANNULLA ENNEN OVEN SULKEUTUMISTA JA SANAHARKAN JÄLKEEN, TAI EHKÄ MUISTI VÄÄRIN JA LIIOITTELI KERTOMUSTA, KOSKA RAUTAINEN PAISTINPANNU OSUESSAAN TEKEE PAHAA JÄLKEÄ. LYÖNTI MENI OHI, VOIMAKAS HUITAISU SAMANAIKAISESTI OVEN SULKEUDUTTUA LÄIMÄHTÄEN, OVI VÄLISSÄ. OVESSA KELTAISTA KUVIOITUA LASIA, JONKA LÄPI IHMINEN ON VAIN TUMMA HAHMO, KUKA LIE. EHKÄ SEN HAHMON NIMI OLI JOKU PYHÄ.
When you understand the world as expensive equals good and that it is your playground and power, you clearly do not have limits and you need to prove this over and over again, how you are free and money frees you. When you are part of a group who is and has been oppressed, your brothers and sisters are and were, you feel you have to contribute. Being small is not an option in today’s world. Sure, it is important to be political and stay on the side of the weak as Cardi B. openly supports and discusses with Joe Biden. Female empowerment through sex is popular nowadays understood in a way that causes eye-brows frown and raises questions of who gets empowered by this and what is happening really. It is the right message in a way, but is it healthy what is happening and what we see daily and concerns body parts, massive focus on certain body parts of women. That is how one gets noticed by body parts and how body is in control and your mind controls it. You can have small waist and fat in right places, do this. It is so easy looking and so hard to attain and maintain, it gets our attention and our constant need to achieve. You can call it self-expression, because it is you, you choose.
To talk about female empowerment via sex and in sex is important, but where does the limit go and what is this empowerment about? How much are women controlled when it comes to sex and slut stigma having been there to scare and segregate women into good and bad, how good do women feel when they are behaving promiscuously using men for pleasure, making money and having nonstop fun? Is it to forget and live in-a-moment-thing, when there are no responsibilities and it is difficult to find a good-paying job? It is fun short-lived mostly and work is no fun often. What do ultra-rich people think and execute via arts and them taking part in art one way or another, what does it do exactly? They do their part in society by spreading their influence with money and contacts? They look good when they do this and are artists themselves? Kylie Jenner has been sculpted quite a bit. Their pleasure is to be seen and watched as they go and do what they must, self-made is an interesting concept here, when almost nothing is. As one is free to do whatever one wants, because one is free and able and has got a body with huge and showing equaling good (small in the right places), massive is the best and meaningful, because it is seen, wanted, desired and comprehensive is how much you have got in repeat: you don’t cook and clean, but you got a ring by some other fancy and easy way and you enjoyed it. Only pain is sexual and they say they go far with it. So, where are the limits?
The result of this charade is cheap-looking, worn-out imagery of wildlife signifying passion and lust. Animals chosen are tigers https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_tiger and snakes biting, dangerous and endangered, but rappers are comfortable with them as they live dangerously. Females are like wildlife, unpredictable, untameable and beautiful, for pleasure and are there to be used, although they themselves give impression they are in control, they use this male fantasy for their benefit, well, for them it has worked out well. Kitsch nevertheless, as are the statues of female body parts inside the house of whores that do look factory-made and provide liquid, mouths open.
Gates open in the beginning of the video and there are two female sculptures with their legs spread open and these sculptures function as parts of a fountain. You should have shown their vaginas, you speak of pussy. Why the image of vagina is censored? Fucking is great, it is so fantastic, that constant penetration seems to be the only thing left to do. Fucking is lucrative, only thing in mind nowadays and sexy being the ultimate constant woman can be, penetration happening into something soft called the brain. Content being thin, big asses and thick thighs are the filling like weapons, one-sided somehow sensual parts of a body and seen a million times, focus is on the size and shape and acrobatics, how much cellulite there is or can be, she is cushy like a sofa, like furniture. It is their right and pleasure to objectify themselves. Seeking as much attention as possible is today’s niche, it is ass, everyone has got one. Say pussy, the p-word, be on your fours wearing thongs telling us what you like. It is child’s play.
Getting pussy licked seven days a week, how many times a day? Doing gestures with fingers at Willy Wonka factory, who is your target audience, who is your daddy? What Cardi B with Megan Thee Stallion music video WAP has achieved is still something worth our while, because excess of and access to porn and sexual imagery online is easily available and mostly free, young men do it for drunk young girls. Where is my lotion reaction videos by African American men to WAP was my next step to this experience in rap music of 2020. Wanting to be choked by penis, a certified freak seven days a week does poetry. Defence in papers is saying black people can and must be able to enjoy their bodies. I wonder who is stopping them? Is this a movement of black female rappers? Big is good, sex is always good to talk about and constantly available for everybody online and the message of news papers is, there can’t be no criticism of this? Music videos are watched by tens of millions of people, they must be critiqued and their values questioned.
Sex is not scarce, when you have got money, in the real world. When you focus on enjoying your body to the fullest and demand you have the right to enjoy your body to the fullest in plain view and be paid for it, it is a declaration and celebration of prostitution, what is your other meaning exactly (feminist) and whose enjoyment do you speak of but your own and why your own pleasure merely is important? What gives us pleasure today and why we must have it instantly? Is the purpose of sexual content in music other than be appalled by or fill up an open mouth with cream? Bragging is celebration? To be watched and listened to, voicing your personal ‘feminist’ goddess existence and sexual power, which clearly money brings, which is all so good and unique, is empowering who other, your producer? What is feminist in full on porn lyrics and visuals that are so simple, used and dull that whores in any house could have come up with them? Despite all the riches and the ring you have got by not cleaning and cooking, what is the influence of porn in music that is consumed massively and shown on YouTube without much censoring? I am so swamped by images of asses and tits, filled up by images of bodies of women and girls filling the internet with content that is a male fantasy, I have wondered the lack of attention here and there, immediate censoring of fine art like in the video. It is a void out there where this all sinks in and remains, girls are getting drunk and being fucked, their images can be found online, then what?
Why is your body moving? Try to be less aggressive. How am I aggressive? To deal with aggression or should one? Or Is physical violence the limit?
To make one feel like a woman, a natural woman: what kind of a woman is that? Is that what is needed in need? And who needs this natural woman?
Demands her and what you prefer her feeling like? What is it to feel like a woman? Girls walking at malls waiting to be found. Girls walking in circles at airports wanting to be found. I need to be found.
My cunt is currency. I am not a human being. I am an object.. I need to be found. My cunt is currency. I am not a human being. I am an object. I have no other feelings than those that are programmed. Then there is the endless passion for bringing you pleasure, if that is a feeling. I don’t think much of myself or for myself. I know it is not allowed for me.
I think things that are only given for me to think as I am told, I do as I am told, as I will never do against your wishes and against what is suitable for me to do and say. I stand and sit when you tell me and state my admiration to you which nothing can extinguish.
crazy love the fragrance. Compassion is what I should fell, But I do not. Problem is how the issue of gender is discussed and what is it about? Gender that is devalued and problematic. When the whole idea of gender is bullshit, you feel like a natural woman, question mark.
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, 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 realized it is not enough, because then I am not me but trying to please someone else. Contextualized furor, 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, I cleaned dusty closets with so much junk that I wonder the person who has collected all that. Clean ink and motor oil stains that have been there for ten years like I was cleaning myself I feel.
FOR YOU, TO GET YOU THE MOST UNHOLY, TO GET AT YOU, HOLY GUN, GUNMEN, NUG, NUG, TO GET A HINT, PINK WINK. WHAT? WHO ARE YOU? HOW WILL YOU KNOW? NEVER ENDING BLEED. NEVER ENDING RIDDLE, GIVE ME A FIDDLE, PLAY THIS WAR, THROUGH IT, SURVIVE IT AND AFTER HAVING SEEN IT, WHAT THEN. MINT HOLY WAR, ERASE IT, FORGET IT, LOSE IT, BUT IT NEVER WILL BE FORGOTTEN, STILL AFTER SOMEWHAT YEARS.
When are we at war? Could it be now? Who has declared it? It is a norm that there is war. World without war anywhere would be abnormal. Why is revenge important? Or honor? Respectable, respectability making people destroying some for the sake of honor. I can ask.
Deliberately endanger someone’s health, bring atmosphere of fear and hate, distress, anxiety, hurt, ill, hopelessness. Does harassment change anything?
What is my right to my body, mind and the idea of me, to ideas that I produce. They light me up, I go to them, yes, it is moving, or is it going, and I get excited, nourished by them. Mouth open like a. I cannot do but realize ideas, they give me strength as they are and change into other. So what is me then? When am I? When did I begin? Because I have begun, I have started. I have begun to spread, my ego has a strong will, it as me wants, demands, pushes me forward. Ambitious bitch, never letting anyone tell I cannot. Makes me want, there is a yearning, probably passion, grabbing, grip. Something to call mine. But I have to understand that eventually I don’t need much though I have much to give. How do I learn to share instead of possessing. To possess is a lonely place, lonely task to guard the belongings, possessions, that are extensions of me, To get extended otherwise in immaterial way. In a good way to achieve.
Stolen words written with mud on newly painted vehicle for five with western with twang by my shaking finger. I laughed. It felt so good, the mud in my fingers, the act of childish and to do something fantastically ridiculous. Wipe my skin my face. (my hands to my shirt, trousers, dirty work of the day)
LUMINESCENCE: ANY EMISSION OF LIGHT THAT CANNOT BE ATTRIBUTED MERELY TO THE TEMPERATURE OF THE EMITTING BODY.
Just to warn you, when you walk by, when you place your eyes on me. On The mud, the twang, looking up to the luminescent clouds over this. How do they seem to be weightless? How is it possible for them?
I had a beer since it is my day off. Quote: Agreement with governor Blanchard, finally fall on attitude, no no, heartbrat, brat, bratt who ultimately controlled government’s funds at the end of the 1980s, business conditions to survive, and the management consultants doubted him. That’s fair. Chances of survival worst of all he didn’t. Sigh. quote end.
Coming crucifuxing, to have faith and other blushihi t danger in dangered. My broken half, my fabulous dancers, my running winnings. And other smallest things (There are no pictures but impressions put together.)
Majakollektiivi Timanttimetsä 