Sounds as chanting this world. Christ is crisis. Chanting in crisis. Chanting an end.

30 joulukuun, 202011 joulukuun, 2020 | Henna Timanttimetsä

Call it divine, call it repetition of the name, repetition of the sound, call it repetition of the act, the same movement, the same fear and hate in the call,
do not expect the same, expect the worst, do not expect the sane, expect lunacy, expect your narrowest nightmare corridor with mass of people in it with you unable to breathe, with them and their smells unwashed.
Call it hypothetical trust, blind hypothetical trust, insane hypothetical belief, expect the unseen, the unknown purity command, fury, need to make the idea of purity happen in black. See the flag, see the scarfs, see the eyes. Nothing will turn their heads around from this mission. Nothing. Crisis is in the not negotiable, in the smallest space, in the smallest breaths inhaled, in passing out with the rest.
ThreatExpect the crisis, threatExpect the hurt, threatExpect the ill, it will come, it will be a terrorist, call it a terrorist, call it an organizationTerrrrrrrrroriiiiiist, Terrrrrrrrrrrroriiiiist! It will be an explosion, a blast. Call it what you will, call it fear, terror, tyranny, call it many of who were hurt, many of those who are dead. Call it your blind heart, call it the answer of the kind heart.

It is not a comical POW. It is not a comical savage. It is the hidden savage of Christ, the one you deny, the one you do not want to acknowledge, because it is in you, in your religion. Smell of the divine captivated, taken, imprisoned. Moral imperative making monsters, sounds of this world, being a monster in an acceptable way, the same way as chanting righteousness, justice, superiority. Us and them, heaven and threat, Paradise of safety and Hell for the uncovered. Those who did what they had to do. Those who accomplish God’s plan to save what there is for us to be saved, next to nothing. Standing next to nothing, next to a plan of salvation drawn onto ground.

Mother of

29 heinäkuun, 201927 heinäkuun, 2019 | Henna Timanttimetsä

INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP: TRYING TO HAVE SOME FUCKING FUN.

How many bin Ladens do you make when you kill bin Laden?

(making that money.)

We don’t like those stupid and crazy. We know what is stupid and what is crazy. To eliminate those among us to hold community clean, free, happy, intact and more importantly hygienic and safe. You understand, yes. It is our right as people of God. Chosen ones, choose the ones.

Mother of Madness
Mother of Comfort
Mother of Thieves
Mother of Tears
Mother of Psychosis
Mother of Mercy
Mother of Bread
Mother of Night
Mother of the Lost
Mother of Anti-Social Tendency
Mothers of The Disappeared
Mothers of The Executed
Mothers of Tigers
Mothers of The Lonely
Mothers of Terrorists
Mothers of The Dissidents
Mothers of The Freedom Fighters
Mothers of Strangers
Mother of Suspicion
Mothers of Comfort

Blind boys running downhill. I really have witnessed it happening. Oh I have seen the Japanese garden. Fill in the blank, but I don’t think you’ll get the job, Motherfucker.

Elbows wrists, elbows wrists, a pornographic magazine under the loo carpet.
Sudden movements and sighs.

Who is that flying through the air? Cover yourself itzy bitzy spider. Limbs breaking the brisk air.

Terrible kleptomaniac spent warmly days in the sun of love. (Don’t ask for permission just do it.)

Call me anything you like, Unemployed Hashtag, Ach Scheissenheit! I’m a real hipster, which definition was quite a surprise to me. Definitely, and it is forever, class and grace of knowing what to wear.