in a whole adult life of not knowing what ' food waste' means.
( eureka i shall do it with baked beans! đ)
That fancy 'farmers market' loaf of bread....
inedible even if the difference between alive ' n dead
All that matters...
at last a collection
of so quiet and unvisited atches
aside all the undiagnosed bolshy butterflying commotion
Because of course they know the 'future'
From their silly little phones...
Righty ho back soon to ' shared lexicon' even if an absurdist process, of no future.
" yoghurt weavers" or 'space cadets' 'hold the space', even here... and for all the word "work" ... merely words, in one and out the other ear.
Me ive lived only in ...
( for three years, to the day...or one or two ago)
something else ..
an extrapolation?
into what they could never be
all only kind of theory...
from their playbook every word ( no deeds)
i always listened and took fullest heed.
maybe after all their ultimate get out of any DOing, word is true
a hologram, but i know mine is far more happily energised
vibrant pink or emerald
aura and frankenstein monster machine leccy bolts
and ... theirs, just blue
haze...
all stuck being or grudging ( most foreigners do bot do).
in yesterdays
me every single dawn a tabula rasa
quite content and centred in a little tin casa
i just feel so sory for all the rest ...
dont know friendship is always a test
barrier or two
to beaver-nibble ... and maybe re dam, one future day
in better design
if one can
but all they do is howl at their silly supermoon
live as Woodlander in them for real
extra light is sometimes life over death, thats the only deal...
but theyre all deaf
... even if the whole dreadfully spun eco decline was always miss ' aligned' with only hot air,
being total all- things pollutant may have got to the aristo landownin class huntin shootin fishin their care
all, even the dumbed down little bbc
at last get some of this pfoas in your cupof tea
i have never known such a beautifully balmy winter night
which is key to early morning riffing- function
to wake up and open the door
anti kairos being just when my laptops not really any more
unless plugged in
but even that latest failure just greatest material
for a rather good parable or two
And various other 'hidden webpages of ralph some hidden for years...to be opened up soon
one will keep you very busy on the long damp warm nights ...
But theres a sequence and even trusty very old laptop is dying now, too....
And NOBODY ever keeps to the 'time bank' their ashram eyes go into overdrive of divine eyliner flutteration when i mention that one..
only ever as performance art..i know it is impossible for ANYone preaching all that new age not to be only stuck in the stone age of "my shiny things only, now... and try to tell me to behave and i will eat you..."
as years ago i already knew....
Ahh i started this a week ago but the mere reader would have no idea just how impossible life is in any region where they say on the can - the so called bohemian community types never get around to recycling by the way so much Tolle and the like to eyes shining brightly
oops NEARLY forgot that loose end... ashrams... 75% know are 'boiler rooms' of spiritual emotional blackmail other forms of blackmail are available too...
And the 25% are the really stupid glazed-over-eyes lot who still think that theyre gonna get their money back for not getting elevated or even getting a good 8 hrs a night always sleep pattern patinated upon their furrowed brows... so iognore the obvious truth: they don't work...or worse.
So maybe as one is in the region may as well be twinned with the 25% still glazed over there..
I shall think of it as the place of ashram-eyes..
this is not a good thing as when eventually they for one reason or other cannot glide around real life... the glaze seems to obscure the great big stone wall right in front... that when they fail to see it until the inevitable moment we all have in life, hurts their seemingly always turned up cute little noses (what the really randy gurus go for i guess so they maybe get extra soma...or summit..)
anyway all this mind body and a soul...central
I have never known a less minded to be human place of NO interest to me i merely plod on AND am better off for it as at last i understand my lasterregion why the rivers of The MArches could never be saved... as these peeps infiltrated like some seemingly pleasant PFOA...all the previously ok environmental initiatives there as the house prices just a tad less and the car parking far easier
NO interest other than as a Noonansh kind of real story one day that ends about 1/4 of a decade ago...
But i know will never change
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
meanwhile this has been in drafts a little while but what with all the endless space cadetry i have lost my flow...
So, two years ago, then a year ago, two things began.
Always the same old ... same ole.....
Even if in the PP I had no idea just how hyper intense - "alchemised" - their sad sheepy word all copied from crappy Paulo the pimp of lost women parasitizing infantilised fantasy that there is always a sexier 'guru' for you over the next hill, or at the sexier coven up the road..
(even if it should be 'distilled', as in stick a load of normal people on the run from the big smoke, into a cauldron, without much meat or even nutritious veg - as the definition of rural lands since about 1900ish is fewer resources to sharp elbow each other into grabbin' and thus competition for "them" resources - land, veg, stupid expensive antique landrovers or even stupider rust-patinated supposedly antique camper vans especially around Hatesville, all to show off in; non-alcoholic blokes, fanny, indeed all one needs for a fairly contented simple life, oops this is a long sentence, which is inversely appropriate in that its all very simple, loadsa peeps not really of the 'land' and of course they make up all sorts of nonsense so as to avoid bein' a cleanin' lady or pigman ... and my ohh my that caldron don't half bubble with their sharp elbows as they're the last to dissolve into pay-dirt especially when their WHOLE gig is they never had them, when in fact generalising which civilisation is built upon even in vudu lands [why is that capitalised according to the squiggle?], only those with fairly sharp ones can afford to have bought into the 'gentrification' of almost everywhere..)
Which is all my reflections are about... prior to nearly three years ago. Third anniversary soon.
No interest in the MOST uninteresting suburb that has ever existed.
None zero.
(which is the real 'violence' in that i didn't know just how dull suburbia was until i discovered every smallest footstep of their endless dilettante dance is self affirmatory attention seeking.... needing to be seen as 'something' a bit special... always.... which is as a sidegig, where 'spiritualism' arose of course in that errant state of mind, you essay... not worth capitalising )
There are however real stories of real people and real time wasted doing REAL things... arguably i may well have got her a few votes, Sarah with an H at last a pointy hat that may just be able to say all the other pointin has to stop...
....so i havent even had time to look: thank GOD she's been rogered enough with what a penis was invented for to be a REAL woman and have two kids...
MY CANDIDATE has three...
each of who one day i shall claim 100 hours owed to me in the time bank to attempt to keep their mother alive...
when many many a day from two years back i would have just a few cans of cold tomatoes in the larger to eat for the next few days
the time spent on this lying lost woman..
your fourth ever female bish and the second the last archy had to run away due kiddly fiddlin immediately full campaign brutalist style: JO THIS WILL KEEP YOU ALIVE!
https://www.ralphschism.com/p/archpointyhat.html
having spent at least 200 hrs the previous 18 months on " look you need to walk move let me walk with you find companions if you dont and if you keep thinking london doctors have the answer you will die..."
And the fuckin woman when asked one favour by a traveller thistersum "could i get amazon to drop a parcel i need for my creative work at yours please..."?
doesn't even know that her whole so called religion is based on two core tennets: justice for the lowly people here on this earth here and also giving aid to the traveller or stranger
but i do know she will have sent over MY argument - none of which had ever been put to her so she said, to some of her equally disingenuous bigwigs.... and maybe even the winners PR team....
BUt i no longer talk with liars who seem merely to have one purpose in life to brag about their million quid bougie house not far off the fabulous natural wonderful shores... they also lied about attempting to DO something to protect... i mean when an ex bishop tells you they are committed to the environment... then fdo nothing follow nothing through ever than a few hundred grands wiorth of yet more stuff used in home improvements..
what is the point
but a great bookone day
even better than Silas... The Bush's next on her bedside table
OOPS THIS TRUTH ABOUT GIBBER CHRISTIANS LIVES WITH THE LONG SUBSTACK AUDIO POSTED A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO...and counselling notes on how to survive their really very naughty naughtiness
you will have to decide. But don't bother thinking i will ever read any comments. I only care for one reader...
Even if, what a COMP!! ... That Bush even read the one, of it's time .. just a little dated language, wo/an...but still within the ONLY lesson: Richard Bach and his 'Mary Movie Star' , combined... attacked the nasty rape and pillage operation - threatening to befell the semi wilderness very good habitat, trees around them...
hard work 1+1 ... watching each others backs = 3
anywya whats this its bveen in drafts a while??
saintetése pisser de rire
tragédie
i think it is time nearly for the big two...
unmonetised,
shabby users, can only parasitise
for those dead behind their mirror sunglassed eyes.
At last a real man:
" i was one of that problem, too"
soon.
Meanwhile the zen of hilltop kairos is defied as such: onetime high up at the very uppermost
atch ( in tan)
Inland windy bufferin'
so much more nuanced and educationally sufferin'
the endless cytoplasmic flow
of them lowlanders down below
( even high the jagged labian peaks of the highest mountains of landmine trigger
one foot wrong and bang for bucks
Serbia
would be safer
gosh a dusktime farmer walkin' close by
head down, cant meet yours in the eye)
theres no mountain spirit
innit
together
ever here
but needed one perfect specially rebooting
and so warm its silly
endtimes night
right as i wrote
( from aside their highest ' space')
not even one more thought of how to fix
there was never any hope
to be cont
The Bush, i hope the Silas
she'll realise, is mentor:
youtoo !! say it all, bravely, as did his inventor
big fat thinman in the hills video to go up today or later..
Now a real zen-master, or in fact REALzen master... and sadly i don't think that term can be non binary.... which is why the small farms, best for THE environent and environmental movement were destroyed long ago...however i know hummn behaviour as i read advanced read-between-the lines evolutionary biol, evolpsych and anthrop decades ago properly... which means think for yourself, how, being non sweet little ancestor-effnix they are bound to be wrong...
which they are.... here was no 'hunter gatherer' there was a 'gatherer hunter' who got most of their protein fro gathered crustacea moules marina and all that plus 'fallen' stock a fancy farer word for dead meat... 'ts SO much easier to go and cut off mammoth bollocks for the BArby if it has keeled over dead, and still edible for at least a week, and a load of buzzards 'signal' mysteriously as if by magic.. they want a chunk, too...
Try living in rural lands very much aside where a M+S shoplifter would get ostritch egged (too) for life belkieve me prekilled grub on road or even riverbank is very appealing...
And of course occasionally - which in 'geological time' means for a second maybe three times a year, if human evolution goes back say 5 mil years = 1 year.. some very bored caveperson, tired of the showofff antics of the showoffs who do it themselves with spears and all that.... draws a satirical mural about the plonkers wasting all that precious 'energy'...
(and you only need to bump off about 3 mammoths a year in a country for the whole lot to disappear after maybe 10 or 20 thou years... scientific FACT though a guesstimate but the 'stress' on the population only has to be minor for over longish timespans an actual Jenny Cider to happen..)
ehh yes i am SO behind an important schedule that likely i wont remember what i forgot to finish yesteraft in 2 non stop fun hours...
so yes ehhhh.... the terroristic 'narcissism' which pervades all these places...
every other fey word "listen" when they cannot even remember one thing you have said....quite succinctly aqnd pleasantly put even if a tad pointed for their filtration system trained on DeBotty's fake smileyness....
god forbid don't be a non-DeBotty...
or non-charlie
anyway i have frequently told the various sidecicks a range of reasons why no actual real man of the land can ever find any fellow ferrit to snuggle up to and go pack huntin; with gaily every day...
indeed a list:
1. they ALL utterly hate fighters (for 'rights', or anything in fact) ..standard psychology tells us exactly why that is.. even wonky Freud and their god whatsisface Jung worked that out...
2. it took me 10 years to be told by the only honest one (LOST to him - meaning i gave her to him but he nearly destroyed her with him being him, the evil smiley 'lifecoach' 16 years ago.... from down here don't think i dont have a mamouth sized memory any way Sal told me: "dont think English women actually LIKE children you may have in tow, of other women havent you worked that one out yet... wanker?!?.." and i hadnt as i am not a cynic neigh rather a fool..
(she was a REAL lithe tough countrywoman with superb veg grown at 400m in midwales and no shelter that takes some doin'...born with dirt under her fingernails by default so in The Sourceland i cannot be argued with on that one and my my they want to fight EVERY smallest word they are so so so so happy inside with all that self care and wellness...)
and a few other things
BUT ..REALzen mastering i dont expect them to remeber that one as in fact they clearly are addiocted to their chaos despite all the aromatherapy and jostix or whatever - not me i like pure zenny cleanliness and organisation...but i a balanced way....= now'nagain...
So even if i have told this to one or two it ay as well be exclusive to you here for free: actual happy goodness in ones 'space' is when one is stuck for years in the WORST place in the world, previously within 10km of Hay-on-Wye... the Utterest Shabbymost shithole .... of not even 'hasbeens' but never got to be anything other than parroting shit books to show off...
indeed not just 'stoicism' a word i dont use as its far too beardy and craft beery.. but persistence being nobody and absolutely knowing for sure one is in the wrong place to be alive, does indeed add or maybe even create depth, mindfulness, the real centred version and especially creativity... indeed gives a kind of inverse 'energy' every other word they parrot when the 'energy' actually comes from knowing theyre all dead parrots or worse, still exuding poisonous fumes even long long passed 'on'...
So... finding sommehwre even worse...
THE shared lexicon is SO SO hard though as none of them have read any decent lit or seen any decent films even Walkabout featuring Miss Agutters fabulous gusset...and some dark man who died.. a perfect intelligent movie
at least there is one thing you can say even in the even dumber down south South West and they do knopw what you mean - or about 75% do... " ehh ask e its the ashrams that are the problem"
Most - 75% give a knowing knowingness yes anyone whos been within a days walk on hot coals from one of "them" has heard the screams out the back door at the staff " WHAT ,....you let HER escape without getting your nails into her neck and extracting at least half a new grass huts worth of her loot.... go and starve yourself on a retreat detox for a week in shame in the coal cellar and make it a silent one or else!"
and the Cortnan witch met her cowitch on one hahh hahhh (that didnt come from e i aint no gossipy bitch i know the EXACT line of what needs to be in the public domain and what is just to joke about as a universal)
wwooff wwooff.. give the slave a bone, only if she works harder for our profitable enterprise so we can claim the vat back on the next unnecessary 4wd...ohhh two of them, his AND hers... despite only two of them and perfectly paved roads to the beach 3km away ...
Anyway a video in the can theres loads in the can about that kind of stuff and how TRUE HILLWALKING ZEN AND HAPPINESS is when you are somewhere where you knopw you cannot coceivably by definition have ANY kind of commonality on their 'common' most are prob banned from anyway as bad customers... that is the best place to be of all.
to be and live forever in the Utterly worst PArt of all
I mean Hatesville looks like a shabby Butlins compared to the true experts at thought control and image control and.....control..
which in standard psych is always the tool of a weak person... so they may be flaccid fro all the vomvom, too...all the retchin; takes it out of you and defers belly laughter to full recovery when you know you were just lost and a sucker...up of all that whatever
(all i wish, to 'heal' her.. except there's a right and wrong way... coincidence Mrs disgraced Walker is said to live up above said Shitcreek...methinks not..))
anyway the pathetic little halfie cousin down boot..
Go to the Uttermost....to be at ones happy, poetical, creative, most...
Bit complex for the flatlanders who can only think in their one dimension or indeed errata, singularity. Them...
But as if reminder by the muses on drugs....he was sent this morningas THE most gorgeous example of when it all started - by them hims.......then her almost better.
Later
Bet he's sulkin' up some pathetic little hill here at the hidden Source of Sourcites who can't "hermitude"- hide as all they know is how to perform.... and you can't lead a dog away from her waterbottle addiction thats as sure as ferrits are "them".... after denuding it of wood for his neurotic need for too much heat... or stokin' the furnaces up hot enough to get rid of every bit of wasted plastic used on his ridiculous littleman nonsense...facile moleskin jockstroppy non life...
at least this doggie will understand: " sainteté
(only because 9 1/2 isn't mine..... mine all for gratis, a tip... given with exactly the same fake patronymic smile to the little slave servin' your din dins.... say, in the Olivo or some other Epstinian haunt...)
ohhh my god..in place for Start The Week...that's all that matters; unless Rory the fake solo long long walker is onnit... in fact fake "human" ... even agent Z said she smelt a rat
Rats takin' a LONG time to learn emotion or an electrical wire jabbed into some part of their brain, in fact even one of them would have learned quickly: a genocide, even if Croatia started the whitey ones of late, FIRST.... should make you cry....
his croc-o-shit online tears only faked.... about a month or so ago....
That's what private schooling does to you.... that's all.....
I;m making an assumption i would bet all my unpaid wages by the women of the land.... who of course all [UP TO THISTERPLACE] inherited or stole then stole some more...
as unpaying your land slave... even the original ancestors couldnt have got away with THAT* old ruse as it never existed..
until Now...
And i know for a fact every single one has at least had his awful book on their skinny mango flavoured cup-o-piss, table, ...
any future so called psych, analising mmy first draft would only assume - fact: up at 530, one small line ton add here... but about 100 others can't be told to fuck off and do yoga elsewhere and not a millisecond to think or pause every electron left in the broken machines a matter of life and death...
so even writing a word and then clicking so as to italicise is one extra click i just can't spare for ..now.
so its far less aesthetic and i am more aesthetic than all the conran shop put together ... and capitals are horrid but it literally saves about 0.1 sex...
which isn't time to 'think' as i don't i just type unthinkingly....
straight out of whatever bullshit is already there from 20 years of "them" Sourcey ones.. there.
way before even that one there i landloped down to 1/4 of a decade ago..
Not to be here, or there...only with.... [no e].
thats purest real over the rude ons
whatsername Alison H... fat elephantine head
purest spontaneity purest in the exact moment in fact i aint in it i just sat here on autopilot head up in the clouds
having jolly good fun doing unlawful barrel rolls.... out of anyone's jurisdiction.
(only good thing about her so needy artless smothering noisy boring....sea)
A loop missed on the yesteraft audio...
two actually
A stich or so dropped but i shall go back and redo one day.....soon
And this is out of sequins...
(They... the sourceresses.... don't like big words like sequence, and anyway several years ago i started to film the auguric "bird" life i have many a wonderful poignant shot, of their native 'ancestor' (is coming in now to boss everyone but they wont mention that the ancestors of say the fine Bolivians ( a place of REAL laughing women FROM their bellies) and other regions around all "them" effnic places ritually took a lot of children on fine hikes up to mountain tops....and then cut them up into little bits to give to the ancestor birdies of the region....
one... the magpie...
Or fuck off with your imagined lovely fanasmagorical with the gorey removed 'indigenous' past (unless you have read the GREAT book - Lucas' Uttermmost.. where the effnics were described with NO Victorian man-the-hunter and overlord nonsense by a man who was born within the locals.... and lived with them... several tribes with varying degrees of rather tribely incongruity with any rationality...)and go and genitally mutilate the girl down the road in a vudu dance ceremony too... and if from atesville with a bucket handy for the vomvom...yours of course as its impossible for them to actually manifest or 'realise' anyone else's actual agony....
(i must get to that i have art on it all...soon)
Ehh happiness... well not really but the halfway house, is only one thing if one can never find a reliable rest-o'-life walking companion... who would also laugh at my jokes about the absurd performance in 'walking poles' and do what told: "strip tart i do NOT want to see you... nor do the wild animals and 'birds' as they have long 'knowings' that two legs must be avoided at all cost........ never mind the fact that the flourescent [ i usually say 'neon' but they have NO literary depth at all its simply..... well it is the lowest of common denominators: America academic woman on about 730 proving my knowings: thy took over and of course she even accuses chaina of 'bullying' her.. to be cont] clothing is so UGLY.... a proper dark coloured mac with NO ribbing, or you can go walk with someone else who needs to be seen, too...me i walk to not be seen nor need to be seen nor need to be humman just to keep myself fairly fit allergic to noisy sport or gymns or all other such showoff exercise... "
happiness or part way is having a ...
well thats your yankee 'dictionary' for you:
as obsessed with sex as their vile religions despite being REALLY shit at it as my own travels in that Uttermostian land, did describe...
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/spanish-english/companera
says
which is simply untrue
a
is if you were on a peace march and Queen Joan De Baez was leading it you would be in total loyal to-the-death SOLIDARITY with her and loyal, even if scruffy little fake hobo came along and whisked her off her feet, as he wanted to copy her actual unique genius... and you knew she was the only woman in the whitey world worth marrying, if you could push in to the front of the queue her sacraficing a nice calm abundant one by marrying a bloke in the slammer or just out and due back, for actually being on the cross at the front of some anti-fascist activity in the 60s....... ... you would still help hoist her up into his Portobello Rd clad arms even he yabbered "it aint me babe" if thats what SHE said she wanted to try out...
You would do her bidding, no bids involved...
Anyway it is at least having a fellow "human" on the same page...
especially when one starts revving up the jokes about her fellow Source eresses... that should really be heiresses...
("venom" this morn.. she liked that. and that was for being VERY nice to one and offereing some free gifts for their hot yoga or rip off shack-en sauna...... nope.. some folk you just can't please.... thats what once having a face that everyone on the Kings Rd wanted to 'yes please'.... )
so yes a comp as no one is actually worth me bothering to copy paste in the squiggle...
And anyway all that matters is this one MEANS it she is going to write her life story..
A bonnet with BEES in it - it must be THEIR bees.... that's the nature of the thing.... that at last i have already helped line up into formation with the right non-Serbian-homo-erotic marching tunes all primed...
But you don't get book 9 1/2 (of the dozen underway at least a decade) which will always be hidden...unless you pay for THAT one...
I mean your children are the number one users..of onlyfans in the world per capita.. you let them get paid to take em off... just to tease
so...
ergo
(oh yes simonclayton2020.com so needs updating with the ultimate failure of all time..... to be cont)
Anyway...
.... which is the worst conceivable way not to conceive or 'birth' some half decent bit of writing starting a sentence with anyway...ohh i forgot tghere is a worse way to start off by going to study 'creative writing'... that guarantees you will be even worse than their little boy Owen..(i saw them pet over years)
Them arrivals,
"them" incame..
Over the decades all i care about tellin' their tales of how the very place they came to be abundant' in having stolen Southern money from some poor relation or Monsanto..
Or the taxpayer pretending to care whist being a Nutzi Health serv carer..
one will never ever hear: "what extraordinarily lovely weather ALL year...especially way before thisterdawn about 13 degrees " in the woods hidden away... paradise... nice bathe in tepid water..
It is as if they don't actually live 'here' - by which i mean The Marches over the last 15+ years then if we must a few years of bad pasties..
They aren't really "present" their fave old word ... and they dont live in the weather as theyre always inside nowadays for years on their machines figurin how to get MORE 'donations' than the one next door...
That young lass is why indeed i am a different 'species'...
Now..if you 'paid attention' to quote the smug anti intellectual top 'intellectual' Mister Harriis, to one of the fattish video waffles lasterweek, you will be shocked to hear that for the last two years i have had i think seven arguably eight semi-sidecicks...
Only one is fully 'healed' from modern "humanity" in that shetoo walks a lot...or walkED ...who knows if they ever mean what they say as in a few months
is just a holiday.
Me for 20 years 50k a week.
None of whom lodged any official 'complaint' even to my face.
One - the one i value the most, as usual dilettante fancy pants 'artist' quite artless, but she does at least agree that her art is rather fey...
And for a year we riffed (my only allowed digital communicatrix) about far far more real art... about reality.
And her genuine actually honest statements to yes get to a real version one day.
( several months earlier this year: " Your Mongship you MUST come back down here..
the absolute acedia
and bad art mania...it is SO so so fascinating
I've no idea how you get it in a painting,.
ut it is the most subtly wonderfully obvious surreal stuff
even Dali would say 'too easy'
no one ever 'does' so run down with your easel!"
Anyway ... others.
I am always one hundred percent frank and open with.
Every smallest detail thought feeling...and desire
And one extremely simplest need
Quite astonishing how not one ever 'does' anything
("shall i have a word with ..her...")
doing some obvious good 'deed'.
A far worse neglect, of maturity and sanity
Though i never utter direct critique or profanity
Is suggesting you will, then not...
A so much more serious form of "dumbing down"
That arises from living in any even small Britolish town.
(actual country folk knowin that alliance is the only glue
that bonds one in functional me and you
on this tree or ramble hooked sheep
equals in fact three
no matter what yoga followed or pedigree)
Anyway this week i spend money on behalf of this operation.
And thus your infornation will be delayed
resetting something a few days at least
strugglin with the lowtech beast.
Now.. there is something in fact just as valuable as failing to DO what she said
Rather frequently
(they're all just lonely, existentially)
The inherent 'value' merely proving endlessly, always
the point. That one day needs to be Noonanised into something that just may last
Kathleen i need one but...
(to be cont)
Fair dinkum i got (back) as much as i gave
(hahh hahh that afternoon in the cave)
No not her! that was different
Notional aside the so repetitive current
The English private schoolgirl
Still stuck in one in her head
A death sentence that boarding school bed.
Which i new about thirty five years ago so nothing new.
Merely a refresher on confirmation
Sure leads to inner endless concatenation
of nothing: they cannot ever DO
Except for several months we sat and were on one same page
How 'the language has been STOLEN'... by the faux 'newest age'
Words so many refashioned around ex suburban them
and their sales operation
good old fashioned ones like "connect" (well no maybe not)
or ehhh... "play" maybe a better example
compulsory" " eat sleep Play" advertorial tyranny
but far more apt, yes 'hold the space' all that kind of
microagressive disgrace
ofa great big con... indeed institutional warfare on all but them
(all copied of FAkebook so certainly an institution
all designed to foster prostitution:
"but my mindful wares, over hers less so"
even if it STARTED with HIM!
Tom-Paul or whatever other right Charlie ... merely copying and modernising Coelho or some MAchiavellian mumbo jumbo based on Gilbran or Crowleigh
their slaves dressed up as dreamy footbathers with ashram smiles
just copied and added extra spin..
Anyway one of THE "moments" ohh yes they all have their "moments"
well i paid attention
about 20 years ago
when this new fangled tendency came in...obviously of good intention
their new invention:
But anyone with an actual philosophical bent
decades my money spent
only on good books, which means LITerature not some Tolle-Peterson-DeBotty nonsense..
You learn more from Ove a rather simple affair
that a whole stack of Jordans chucked under the stairs
when they new fashionable Brand of so called guru comes along
and fails.
Anyway yes but " by donation"
when there was a perfectly good system in place for 30+ years.
entry fee £x .. (cocns x-50ish%)
where cons = anyone - about 1/3 or more of the peeps, in receipt of means tested council tax reduction, or tax credits be they working or child..
simple straightforward
And without the emotional terrorism of that... look
" i wonder what he is gonna put into our lovely hat..."
which of course is two way... ruins a rare - these days rare as someone who hasnt been on some shamania workshop course for a donation of many a hundred!! or else we will hex you...
that 'moment' really ruins even an extremely rare evening at some actually good drama in a local village hall...
especially when i can mind read their production meetings:
" well if we do it this way - entry by donation....it does mean we get MORE money if the tone we take is pitch perfect... [=pity me].."
"and if someone like that cunt over there dressed in BURTON rather than Portobello RD which it mystically says is the dress code ..[if HAtesville or the one up here]...
"thinks he can get away with chatting me up whist making the noise of silver droppin' in the bucket when in fact it was a few old brown coins and i noticed hawkeyed between every emotionally manipulative donations please shake of my tush... they were old zlotties he must have had them especially in his pocket for these very 'moment'...
Except of course what it means is that any sane person remains tight wad if they can get away with it unless the quality is very very genuinely what they hype up on their line...
But they will usually forget post production... pretending to like the actors or artists if they get to post act smooze...
so that's not going to work either
But i don't believe in charging up front like LAwson H or Harris S and Daum Meg...
For in my case, nothing.
Being nobody nowhere (ok Herman found it too, but i only lowered myself to read his so called guidebook to or for the counter culture well not really.. about a decade ago ) is everything.... and its even better if you are always penniless so good for you little wise ones
Thanks, for nothing.
free* substack audio
add to above Dr Jonathan Miller https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Millerthe self pitying anti-intellectual broadcaster essentially genocidere with his arrogant dangerous broadcasting on HIS mental wonkiness.... mentioned within ... you see i usually remember the little Missed bits. (that's what being ;cured' means.
Ohh yes and add to the 'purpose' list having a shitty little 11 month old laptop by a major brand that is as deviantly mad and defective as Mister thattoo
BUT it never gets to me the nowadays struggle to just get even chrome to behave itself never mind a mouse or keyboard to cooperate with its truly Sickening MInd...
(excellent book on how the mind-body totality, is the only reality there is, but cannot be understood..)
which means all so so many planned little bits and bobs for here are so behind the schedule an unfixed persona would be puffing and puffing about... as it's all i really care to do other than 50km a week p and down dale - a different route EVERY day no matter what rude and nasty suggestions she may say... behind ones back
If only they knew - they think they matter or one even gives any of them SWesterners a second thought except for one........ there i am second time now...up on my hill having a wonderfully zenned tidy up, bask in the sun. and for the second time but this time full on in my face..
From 300km away..
Amble into view The Badger killers.... or worse; buried alive by JCB...
Not libel nor defamation as i have it on my little protective device in his own aristocratic words...
I wonder if it's a sign...
If i could be bothered.
But once again: to be no longer bothered. Again part of the 'purpose.. objective. That way when i do at last get around to collecting all that digitals - reams of evocative film of funeral pyres...
I will have the fullest poise and grace to just perhaps turn it into some REAL-life real art... about the reality of these places of tourist postcard (at a grand or two a pop) faux tranquility...
doing the 'work' means you never even get slightly irked.. even at her ( her gait and indeed total persona a bit reminiscent of the last scene in the wonderful Don't look Up when the dodgy spacebird bites someones head off..... ohh yes poor old Meryl whom they all want to look as sexy as at her age... but few can really manage... as that takes the ability to laugh at yourself, and mean it....anopther purpose of DOIN that ....work)
* part of your therapytoo... indeed you will be shovelled even more free free free how to survive an Alan Watts superfan wisdom therapeutically as it hasn't worked on y'all and you don't even know you are a skinflint mealy mouthed sociopath just takes rather than gives and your only hope is to be given SO SO much more to just take and 'use' for free with no payback ... you'll be too busy addicted to me so some other nicer" human" may be saved from your unworked on taker persona ..or ality
To be sat in The Source central performance space
A knowing smile at last upon my face just how
I got it then but had to see,
for myself just how absurdly twee
A neer six 'nalf quid sherbet once every six months.
only
No matter what...
Anyway there is of course an anti-kairos, even if there's no yin, yang or silly Indian stone age Mr and Mrs somehow complete innate opposites in some or other oppositional innately divine force of nature, "complete" ing each other into one complete load of hogwash
There is however a "time to die" - kairos meaningall of Ecclesiastes three in one word.... but i guess the good bits, like time to sow and rape oops reap what nobody would bother sewing for you (even when offered via a cuppa strong black) so fix it yourself...
But fuck me to find THE fastest signal ever - a fifth of a gigabyte in a minute, just aside the greatest atchin tan ever in this whole pestilent aisle...
(aside enough not really to be a Blott on My Landscape... they couldnt make truly great "warrior" material like that, witha superb soundtrack, too... even in huffy rather homoerotic marchin' song Serbia )
Just when i no longer need it really ever...
Except to gradually bit by bit or rather byte...
eg the magnificent Anthony in his bathchair... and the red haired ultra gibber... who gave me the word 'gibber'
not even begun yet to bring them to life.
Anyway indeed anything from the last month of zero pintrest
not even the best
preserved oldish thing can go and henpeck someone elses wing
Zero.
Except the rather sweet once abused
Her story she MUST write... otherwise i chop the wood, all is good...
Just as old man Ralph once did, despite
(the look on his face
at their endless disgrace
we just plodded on with the JOBS regardless of all "them" cadets from space)
* what was it "do not go gently into the night.." ehhh well before we get to that don't bowdlerise your once almost greatest line ever in all performance art
I sat and sighed.....
And will certainly sigh if ANY one in The Source where i have been for a month, now.. thinks for one millisecond i have the slightest interest whatsoever ever in thir highjinks or dull samey existence..
In fact if you wish to know what won the race but lost the prize, about the fifth greatest great line ever means...
It is thistermorn, seeing: ahhahhhh... she did in fact reply, despite the lowly rather squalid Miss Information or assumptive thinkin' i would bother to ever trudge up to her rather barred gate again.... on foot aa " 'prowlin"
unless i was onto a sure thing... diesel costs money
but of course not one knows the meanin' of apology....
but that's them..me.... i even forgot the one maybe desired inbox unread
i got actual alive and vital beauty all around rather that that as good as dead
Righty ho ho in perfect femenine position,
and situation
to weave the jumper
of this colourless nation.
LAST region...only
well last two as her sad little ketamine infested swamp...
rivers prozac piss rubbish dump
Are just too ood as rather patinated exagerated nothing
to say ever via their art
so it may indeed be Up To Me
But only there... there's ten years of material to catch up with just there...
And the key to life here, is knowing there's nothing here
And thus none of that pesky very dangerous 'hope' upon which them Christnuts
parasitise...
Never mind the "wuwu" madness
never owt behind glazen over eyes
But i do have to just once go and see HQ
Especially when Phoebe arrivin' Hay-on-toxicwye
"why Phoebs.. wont your four Trannies join with us four just-founded 2008ish, F O E?
" him...back in Tranny Central... says no, (solidarity).."
Poor little 32 year old thingumy from Your Party
lastereve on The Bush's little gifted tranny
Nobody told them, neigh MADE them
READ loads before ever speaking
and thus no rhetoric sane or even half good 'oracy':
would be, feet up on the interviewers table
pipe, roll up, or cheroot in the gob:
"ugghhhh same ole' ignorant question... everyone knows
for hundreds of years... Che .. and Fidel... .. Gren Party Greenpeace Friends of the Earth...
the left always bickers like rats [not smart enough to be ferrits] in a sac
trips up, besmirches, stabs in the back...
it's just the way of the world....they dont have the knack
like the Conservative lot seem to know by default
take that Wye River, a toxic sludge
because of Messianic INsolidarity..
their ego's wont budge....
Each and every atomised one has the one and only unique, knowledge..
Not ferkin rocket science
unless for thirty five years, we have only dumbed down
I must return, back i go
To Ralph...now He
so long dead, and his woodland garden untended
I saw that summer
after relinkin uip with the junkie nurse, my once total Queen
upon that High Horseshoe pass.
The fires ragin' as if made for that day
her 'n I in err kitchen:
thirty seven years it had taken to get to that "presence"
Just to hear her squawk
to her drugdealin' mate
" bloody man ... off on his bloody hillside walk.."
why YOUR whorespittles and especially her
Countess of shopaholic Chester
(senior SRN)
was oncce our goddessly mother hen
The Gtreatest Beauty, AND role model
content nowadays her patients only waddle
from invalid bed, to pill poppers dispensary.Never even venturin' out her doors
despite living next to fabulous Corwen Moors
And snidely naggin' at just one
who saw them there... her ...well i did once care
But in her motor, off at last to find Ralph
I read aloud the Borrow
as to why, ok ancient history
but the then-Welsh sure had good reason to be full of all that self pity
The MArcher Lords of way back then
starved their Welsh tenants;
no moaning hype, only the finest landloping journalism:
The reality around me, from the mouths of "them"
there; when he wasn't in the pub performin all snotty
chattin' up the local simple lass totty.
Anyway what a finest day
(then at his garden home)
despite her nursing moan moan moan
yes i must go back also to Ralph on the pod
A year and half back some waffled stuff quite good
About what is that elusive place "happy"
Because so much in fact happens on the never ending Oddesseyan quest
i've clear forgot, which version is best
Then, or now....
I'm with Ralph in his perfect woodlander home
I wasn't even lookin' for!
Biut yesterday news at early
And yesterdawn was the VERY last day
Item one the silly old man
Robert P's kind of customer ...
'trafficked' young newmeat just up the road
that last story to be told
But as if right on cue
ITEM NUMBER TWO
Them marchin labia...
(so they say: some walked many dozens of miles)
To FIGHT loyally in solidarity, for a less corrupt Serbia!
What a ferkin superb example
Here its all.... i mean here this pestilent Peninsula
some tie died tomtoms, perhaps you can sample
However....
None of it matters,
(ohh yes celebrity hillwalkin they all think they are, with their fanciest madhat India /na Jones attire
but at last i met a REAL one sings in my HOME choir:
" yes i knew him.... that Pilger, J... standards have never been any higher"
All links and infills later
as or this morning, now
:
..read any message until the best time of day
well slept as always, each dawn and sunray
disinfects the last of their fears, fittin' Nolde
Even if i never quite knew
Was she happy or sad that lady in blue
But i do know what's behind the mask
of them all, of the past.
Except The Mong
with child now i read
Ten more of her needed, get goin' FAST breed
malarkey palaver or even walkin away
I got back there at last to that
perefect moment upon her beach
Lay lady from Cheltenham Ladies
gibberin' endlessly, and even out of his Blue Ensign reach
Never mind wastin' my very precious time
All 3671/2 hours of it
" so will you accuse metoo with your numerical avengeance?
seek recompense"
" nope yer all the same, i seek merely the meanin' of life
or at least the patterns sent down from above to tease"
.... and at last i got it
Scarlet...i mean fuck the whole of Ireland
makin as if some magic wand
will wipe out their lovely Magdelena laund...eries...
As in Radio 4 'tother day eulagisin
the finest ever of heroic wimmin
But when you hear the slightest pluck
of an actual Goddess, all the rest [censored, bad luck]
ON her glorious one
ignoring the seaweed dead from the shitpipe just along
And immediately just KNOW.... before even really herd
The only one worth callin a "bird"
As they fly so skillfully
autopilot, no need to workshop even if free
BUt what is the link?
Their dull samey metaphor
ohh yes if i die he LEFT OUT the "whore"
from almost the greatest ever song
" undoin'..." or the converse
copied from him
bloody hell shoe laces...how dreadfully drole
artless and hairless
(so don't they get cold?)
ask me there's only one real metaphoric
al victory
to get one fixed
all hairy again, naturally
(shaving's for girlies about seventeen
a Princely hand worth two if full bush
souvenir plucking or hotties on flush
the point being that every single word of every single moan is wrong
only an older one happy IN her skin
in ANY way is even take-a-second look-at-me ably
desirable or even worth
a look
the rest mere...
to be cont
but i wouldn't have anything to do with either who has time to waste on shoe laces
nor a cafe - my first sojourn for any a month
that tells me what to do on MY private table
quietly as always tapping away
at £3.30 a cup... of insipid witchy sheepmuck )
But all that just to predict.....
soon
Tomorrow late afternoon
I've found the Second one ...
In this heartless den yes tonight
I wasn't looking
And stopped my stare
God no ferkin maidens fair
But then in on most confusED year
The "change" you can actually hear.
THe Mong todya she's been told
"If you're to breed you must never lose
daddy's good advice: no not 'im Ragghead
but a last of mine species advice:
ALWAYS DO what comes out thine gob
or elase for life you;ll create a slob
wallowin' inocently
in nuthin' but self pity
rightly
But at logest long last
I know today what REAL poetry
Meands Beelived
i dont care if my messagin' makes 'em lived or is that livved
(sat here in candelight
the stolen toorch went and just died
dead'. like she will be if she dont take my advice:
never not mean what you auto-say
to make you see so nice ...that particular day
that just may have consequence for child
for ever and a fuckin lost and lonely day
righty ho
off we go
But these silly my god The Source
about as hearse
as you can get - never even alive.
Wouldn't even for a second understand:
untttt ttut tt tuttttt til you AWLAYS men what you say
keep the coil in or don't Lay Ldy Lay
Oh my god....
even if he is cancelled too
A library of First Edition Crowleigh
Janes private schoolboy
fucked uparistotoo
(HOW on earth did them goddesslys conspire to
deliver her unto evil, her evil
personfix
those poor Hllocausten suffocatix baby brox
this very end times day?
i have nuthin' else to say
except not even the very fine newfound writer
doesnt get it teither
every bit of endless sadness, Sadducees
and Pharisees...
is merely Kenny's Ticler Stick
There to make you laugh
or provide truly sublimest time immemorial content
if you must.
And because you CAN
is only reason
Just when at last..
I have a 'working definition' (as therapy so as to always beecentred)
of their go-to buzzword
"narcissism" you are accused of just for being actually "bulletproof"
And i am king of all around
(nope not Jesus ive just been told he now has a shop in their shmaniac supermarket, even if in the first draft rit thisterglorious summer it was 'snake oil supermarket', Glastonbury)
to have beaten her in a duel yesterday..immediately...as soon as false alegations began suggesting she was an original REAL woman of Greenham Common she will think i didn't noticed it became rather second draft, amended, very soon "well i popped there once a week with cake for the wimmin"
King... i had them staring at me for hat reasons rather than the usual not wearing of their compulsory costume..
...out of the Blue
With her royal gait
comes the couple, whom invented badger-hate
Extiction Rebels to look the part
THEIR farmerly market rich bitch stall
Placards and postcards "save it ALL"
funny that when a few years later Rob tells my chronicling machine up on "them" hills
" ehh well maybe there was one left in there burried alive
"but the rest well we checked to see if they were home...
nope all long gone..."
which is very strange and proof of magical powers
As i can track, especially her bigfoot footsteps...
not a sight or sound....
All of them Watership Brocks....still snug underground
Their last 'sanctuary' found
when THEIR JCBs came and buried them alive
ten, twenty..maybe thirty five
(shetoo like Mothtoo must take all of the flack
as i know their false words were shared in the sac)
Hahhh hahhh... The Source....
This time i need not hide....
as https://dilettanteenvironmentalism.blogspot.com/
had to heart in mouth until i was gone)
her (LA actual Grande Belazza) skirts are "svelte" but wide enough for as to protect me and 'hide'
in plain man site
All day and tonight.
NO more 'content'; even if i love the endless Odyssey to nowhere,
as being nobody nowhere is the only actual 'zen' there is
As Herman told us so wisely
(maybe it was using two semicolons in her fanmail that caused inner inzennity
at very complimentary, nobody, me
is that the right way of puttin' the opposite of their so so advertorially preached
opposite of what their pictures say: insecurity)
which of course means
they wouldn't even understand, Stevie's perfect prose
no idea what on earth she once meant
by "doin up the laces"
couldv been rit at the epicentre of the hurricane! An actually dangerous one tie down your tin roofs and do em up well
thisterregion
in "i don't wanna be a cleanin' lady" Source of it ALL, hell...
For which of course they would do ANYthing....
Not to Bee
How Sid knew was the actual "work" so as to have "centred" pure zen serenity
Always
IT - blogger stats.... rightfully denies you even EXIST
too.... the only intelligent technical artifice
says thirty five lost and silent sheep
at breakfast in here peep
... when refresh it, distrust it, and now it says several hundred scurryin' mice
there - hrere, stealin' my crumbs
discarded here for.... well go and watch soe Italians and their penchant for bums
I a sure that's your only pleasure
and wouldn't even recognise my big chest of treasure
right i have real work to do now making some sense of the impossible
as i said to her
also able to write without forcing the first idea of what she's on about
up some so called reader's nosey snout
" only when we have lived a full on death
and accepted it in all it's dullness to that very final breath
can we actually start to live.."
i thought rather good for a pathetic little tramp, only love left to give
(the rest havin' stolen every last retained and beloved children's toy
and tried to nick even simplest daily joy
with their selfharmin' mixed up indignity
as to employ a MAN to fix your messed up roost
'man management' means he must find a way into they detritus
and bring peace and harmony
method in his madness, go make that promised fuckin toast
leave me alone i shall fix your messed up nest
and shut up, management experts know its time to be merely pious)
yes, die... a many deaths
every dullest afternoon
But each and every dawn... rise afresh
(ohh god what did you do to me Missey Doone)
god i forgot why i opened up again
the rule of now is that when you do
it vanishes.. disappears... so get soe actual poetry into the ears
dished out like that perfect stew..
ohh yes.... Little Miss Sadeyed.....
of "them" highlands, too
"well bully for it, assumption
and unknowabale mental liquid gumption
scrubbin out all great info on how to be 'human'
such as Kramp red oxide primer for the rust
and the greatest writer of all
the last century
... even i too effete 'n fay:
leave this socialist self pityin' crap for another day
But he never even knew.... cos ee died to quick
oops gettin carried away, and too much 'space'
between that one so Missussed word 'human'
And god what must she have felt
at her daddy's corpse and its success
What on earth must have been daily in the actual heart
of the one loyalest daughter ever extant, Kathleen Noonan
To have found a man-of-the-book
in this little pestilent dumpsville botox filled Source place
"Nothing could wipe the actual REAL smile off of my face"
"seeing it upon your shelf
""pray tell me sir does it sell?
surely not, i mean it attacketh all of "them"
and their paucity of ;human; being
wealth"
The smile on his face unlike every prior
unread bookman, at last one real MAN
who knows what literature, is for...
attacking especially his own, not very merry
Waitrose bagged, bejowled and saggy, fayre
" hahhh hahhh zut alors..... them blokes over there... ask them if they'tve done the "work"
and they'll think youre all beserk....
But one must define
what makes "them" all so sickly supine:
she got it in my damwnly missive
(" ahhahhh 'damaged "birds" are dangerous, as they know they can SIRvive..... "
And so three years to the day
My ohh my had i had a mind then
I would have used it knowing there's simply no day when
The impossible may happen:
A put down from not ONLY the grandest belazza...(or is it issma?)
Merely to keep my hand in
out of boredom, at their lonely hills side only fandom
is themselves following themselves on their own insta
gram
of lies and deceit
what a treat
To awake at dan and as per usual "human" schedule
yawn yawn what came in lastereve
i NEVEr look at what cannot change my next twelve hours
revelling in "£them" heavenly powers
to cause actual interest, in her moody blues
SO today is THE END!
No more content
All wasted time spent
Upon achieving the purest real-life zen
"well fuck her then..... but she does owe YOU bit of an apology
to jumpin to such a pridifilled assumption, about you AND me...
hahh hahh and not even a second thought
"shame.... the one GREAT hilltop artiste..
to rhyme with yeast....
cloggin' up where it will indeed hurt
if it aint used regularly, for what their dodgy 'god' dserves...
while "them" Italians (so says pornhub) only decree it,
gets a like, or a great big load
up the bum
.
" but... he may well have the worst of pedigrees
Only LA Grande Belazza's dad... serves a dish as perfect as your kedgeree.."
i ean what Micael Angeloan genuis
is that - i have no battery to even think
lid open, 30 mins left, and no time to blink
just type what comes from who knows where
But MAKE the time to 'stop and stare..'
to quote the GREAT welshan (only one)
and her viscious putdown: i don't care
but to kindof rhyme kedgree
with his dodgiest pedigree
Lord MAd'n BAd i do mean
a so called poet, they all did swoon
even his sis, " i cant wait til the next full moon"
"NOW" or never,
take me in bracken or upon the sublime heather"
pre fuckin cisely...
THE end ...now
if i can get bulletproofing therapy
into a few chapters
maximum three
(most they can manage between FAkebook posts
still tuggin' with their sanity)
I shall be as rich as even the ex Mrs Einstein
(i had to laugh, what a right Charlie!)
i believe thats a sex, positively neutral name
But her lawyers Wrath Wrath and Moor
and cash register dreams, wont be playin' no game
Anyway all i could never ever be
For i so sadeyed Lowlander fro Hatecreek
on "them" unloved shitpipe shores
" i want a man who can write poetry!"
" not me luv, i an a serious thinkin
actual philosopher, and 'maker' of failed community"
But love is, in all its maliciously Machiavelian terms:
and condition,
well i shall embaress myself myself for three years
writing shit stuff, until the just a bit less shit
miraculously comes, and you were merely the ignition
But don't think banana boats aren't full of unplugged holes
and wet ragged fixin jobs,
and yes bloody (excelent) prose
This land, not Emir's rather too surreal for his own good
or yours....
Once had a song still today
"what on EARTH is it about.... why did he kill a man
put the gun against his inter generationally traumatised head...
one cannot about what they wrote think or say
But it worked as clear as day
follows night
and gave me a real shock: beware, this thing called life,
well you gotta one day get it right
And nobody even noticed
which way within his taught stretched Jane Fondling leotard
which way he dresssed
or if pretty boy Bri made him hard
fifty years...wow....
Right im ready, now...
even if that One DAy...
cyclin 50 miles in my wellies in the Scottish Highlands....
wireless on all day in tinny little earphones
(fascist aristo landowner badlands)
well it is only yesters
and i knew theres just no way
I last until today
UP unplanned in the truly best hilltop atch
THE growlers lashin the roof with hail and thunder
as if Thor he/her/'#"the"self was insulted and her thorny pride
(as usual from bein' too fussy about a possible "match" to quote the one real woman goddess)
from even the very most perfect compliment
she must hide.
The lightning - thrashing all about stagelighting every tree
(in fact her in charge with her actuall REAL thrilling positive
[[r is it negative] electrical energy
so theyre all just jealous)
a vicious (frightened disturbed from its well earned sleep)
actual serpent,
"awoken" by the improprietorial affront
" how dare he think he's gonna get a sniff of my ..[ what rhymes with affront?.. hmmm to finness later on]
As if on perfect cue
Three years to the hour
"me me....owwwww "
But this time... this put down
Only made me smile
That's what you call doing the "work"
Or indeed "community"
in avin' it done
to one
for free
don't know what
they will be mmissin
midsummer
thisterone
four thousand mentally retarded
readers per diem, here
nothing summmery or sunshiney to do
so voyeuristically noseyparkerin here
all their shallow irrelevant
cheapskate, clickin' my great work
but if they knew the real truths, of then
and now
they'd piss emselves even more beserk
thirty five it says, only, all day: lowest EVER
Anyone left, clap clap aren't you clever
as it's only just begun
The real version, strap on and do have fun
Freebasers, two facers i dont care
There's a 'zone' a real one,
but it has to be also lived,
so close to death, neigh
as close in to, as the whisper of a breath of a hair
Eckheart wouldn't know
he's only the internet Now to infect
... messy mad uncontrolable life,
always best, and no superest intelligent AI
could next-word parrot or predict.
Especially that NOT being known or read
is as nice and quiet and TRULY creative for the soul as bein' dead
one is free.
Righty ho now anyone 'payin attention' ( a Sam Harris auto-smarmass
phrase)
may have noticed something:
if "hate" does not exist,
then nor does her 'Hatesville'
(uggh those little emojiis pretendin' prayers)
I shall have to come back to another day.
The sequence bit me in the bum and got very very angry!
It never DOES anythin' ever
physically, until i got happy with a tree.
But that's all nothing interesting.
All the rest is actually something
I doubt even ... Mister Woodlanders himself
Could have imagined: a whole saddest book ever
off the shelf.
Soon.
Meanwhile hedgehogs have to be saved or at least tucked up nicely
in case of a Beast from her East
..
But a far more important "quiet" ...now a whole region of atches nicely in place
a whole winter's worth
even if the so called readers so tight it's a disgrace
Every day way before dawn, unbothered, undisturbed, by man or motor
off we go...
soon.
He'd poisoned Madeleine with his 'weeping' and moanin' at his pitiful so called River
Piedra sound like one those rediculous PAstine Mermaids would go 'wild' swimmin'
in when real country men and their babe swam in a river all summer long, quite contented
before their aqbundantly plenishy term was ever invented
(oohhh the dip i took lastereve designed to be at bat flyin time
a real hard man's workaday...
backbone never supine
despite the shiver down it....
"well i met her high up upon their very underwhelming moor
seeing her sylvan form and scrawny whippets
some bloody Greatest beauty....
i did miss one heartbeat, but 'them' dogs not for me...
i did thoughtbubble jimmy and his crickets
i mean you can't make this up,
but ... hmmm artists not one down here worth their truck
and kindof having enquired learningly
let it pass, no such luck
But then.... hmm a van....and a skinny one.... who IS she..?
"ahhahhh the gitl from the cleanin' babe song...
as high maintenace, type A, whippet persona no doubt, too...
thinks no one could be her match...
But i guess if twas a cold winter then i may need a warmin'....ruck
sack, of fine older bones to light the fire inside, with
some of the time...
And then, ok what's her handle
just in case i run out of candle....
..... (having assed the direst art,
the usual prostitution pastiche feyest load of dumbed down dross,
seaside sickness, fingerjabbin's of one or other tart
callin' 'emself artiste...... based only on a wallet fat enough
to afford, once...a workshop at five hundred quid and a boit of a cliff edge ponce
around pain brush in hand
not even a fairy and her REAL magic wand
could transform their lack of art, passion, heart and hate
into a pissy little 100 quids worth of farmers gate
saying something real and performance art
and a fabulous alive, neigh all of life, chat like our first encounter
("ehh heyyy up, fayre maiden, i think ive just trespassed through your feypeep place...tell me prey what is it this strangely sublimish hilltop colony.... "
"hmmm i wonder what the website counter
says about her popularity....
because fuck me up it with 'BASILlllll!!!!!!!!' s most homoerotic special brush
"when i saw her paintings, too....
my heart skipped a beat, this time times two"
Anyway who was that enemy?
Bad slan unthought just start 'n type
bad poetry just cannot stop
Even if six quid a loaf in her shop
"me i learned to be as good as commie
thats how you stay ..happy"
Oh yes did i say
THE lady from the cleranin' lady song
hahh hahh up to the beginnin'
Mister 'go find the other better guru the OTHER side of the hill
and then you won't need your suburban or London happy-pill
go to hell,
Senor Coelho
I know what rivers are really for....
" met my match"
fires need to be set by a real...
man's atch,
And there's one just by her hilltopen 'private' gate
hmmm ... good job i don't believe in signs
yet more voodoo masturbatory, self hate
But you do know, when....
kairos comes and bites you on your bun
now and again.