arborescent dimension, cycles of self-destruction rhizomatic eschewal of Humanism in favor of pluralic flaws repressive views of institutions, we have become blocks of over-coding,
lines of flight in direction, under order rationality has its way in making, to be logical in natural way. How I long for illogical, obverse and increasingly dissatisfying false calculations and definitions of wrongs and rights, acerbic, egotist mania I fascinate myself with numbers, numeric patterns, digits on receipts on streets on buses routes, pass the way for could you understand my need for fantasy, disorder and accuracy at the same time, and findings
hoho, obstinate, started feeling inadequate could you not try like there is nothing else than to impress all the time, because it could be so much better if you didn’t measure everything force everything I would appreciate it much thank you.
Language of repeating clichés Language of beauty Language of aesthetics Language of banality Language of architecture Language of concrete Language of living Language of taking the bus Language of loving Language of walking Language of getting home Language of aggression Language of stigma Language of sleeping Language of violence Language of hitting Language of doing the dishes Language of forgetting them Language of dating Language of passing out Language of dressing up Language of being alive Language of eating Language of thinking Language of solitude Language of looking Language of having sex Language of celibacy Language of an old man Language of existing Language of a riot Language of revolution
You hear insects all the time everywhere. You are scared of insects. They are violent in their multitude. Their amount is unexpected and unknown small horror that creeps. Their force is their poison and need to go under your skin, to eat you and to consume you and move on to the next body. Africa is scary. It is enormous and endless and dark. Endless in its blackness, noise, violence, liveliness and uniqueness, but we like to see it as one block, because we must understand within our rational frame all, even the things which don’t fit the frame in any way. We need to force all into our frame to comprehend and control and use. All that we can’t control, what can we do with it?
Ethnic sounds, drums, stomping, whipping, singing. Animal sounds, roaring. Human sounds, shooting. Nature’s sounds, the wind, eruptions, the grass, the rain. Cacophony distilled normal, a harmony, a naming. Making order, giving advice, giving comprehension and guidance, harmony like for a choir with a conductor. Do not make a mistake: you will be punished. Who are the people who punish? Who are the people who are punished?
Coffee cantata, tsinazil signifies the whipping of Jesus. Wondrous voices made with instruments invented.
Can you love an ugly child? Fat, tiny, whiny and useless, suddenly appearing into your life? Is it organic or manufactured, artificial or natural? Can you love an ugly child who looks like trouble growing with hunger and thirst, who does not belong here or anywhere but needs a place to stay? Whose whole being yells how out of place she is even though she is quietly looking at you. Can you give affection to a little beast who is an image of you? Maybe forgotten and hidden. Who reminds you of your weaknesses, your desires which you cannot attend to and fulfil because of that visible existence of someone new, an invader, an intruder grabbing you from your gut. Sounds like a leach. Can you put priorities of your own aside and love someone with two heads and a heart that pounds noise in which nobody can sleep, unconditionally, without saying you owe me? Screaming, needy and pathetic, noisier and messier. Heads following sudden ideas, not obeying anything said. Someone with three legs, several hands and wide open mouths nonstop. Can you love an ugly child that needs to be loved more than you could ever imagine, loved more than you love yourself? Put all your warmth on that tiny body that breaks everything just to try out what happens? How much warmth do you have to spare and what changes?
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.
It is demanding to be kind to people. It is demanding to be kind to the world. It is demanding to be kind to animals. It is demanding to be kind to strangers. It is demanding to be kind to those you know. It is demanding to be kind to those you don’t know. It is demanding to be kind towards nature. It is demanding to be kind to yourself. It is demanding to be kind to insects. It is demanding to be kind to people you do not like. It is demanding to be kind to people you are mean to. It is demanding to be kind to the street.
To understand what is and what is not. To understand what you are and what you are not. To understand why and why not. To understand what you can do and what you can’t. To understand how all happens and how things do not. To understand what is said and what is not. To understand this place and not. To understand what to say and not. To understand what is your place and what is not. To understand right and wrong and not. To understand how things work and not. To understand your potential and not.
Green the color, yellow the color, leaves the color, color that left. Or it is there to notify, some shade of bright to make us see an enterprise, initiative of particular. Endless topic of us of what color are we, what season, what ideology do we stand for, we do stand for, always for something and like. Necessity to like to feel enjoyment and standing. What color to like, what colorless question to let out and what plain answer to give, short answer, because one is entitled to answer to such question of basic personal favorite. What is your personal input in this? Could one ask why do you want to know? Such attitude is hostile, to question the question. Does the answer make one more soft, acceptable and friendly when you know person’s most liked shade, named, preferred, enjoyed the wave length of light hitting that wall of corrugated iron.