RIT....friday morn.
And theres me thinking .... wait..take ones time. Nothing else matters. We stopped. Two people together stopped. And they... became everything. That matters. Never mind my new sidecick on the what the fuck kind of a Quixotic sea questering everything is this...
No more.... finished. All he time in he world to... finesse a little, stop and think.... except, that thing even more nothing else matters, went and bit me in he bum as if someone had jabbed a live one up it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
we said.
But we did not need to say it.
This now is officially a blog
weblog
Montaigne duelling with (fake) George Borrow... though Wild Wales taught me what all those years at last (on the way to your NHS queen twenty eighteen.......of being a drug addict.... errata no we were in her car she was taking me to see Ralph's bones.... untended...left alone in peace...)
" i understood at last ... did you read to your father goin' blind that passage...just around here...of the TRUTH how the English cunteratti ... bullied and starved and whipped em', ok now i got it fair dinkum ... i would have a grudge, too if i wasn't the lucky one having the so called Welsh cunterati... take revenge 150 odd years later... the snidest way extant..." )
Now before the sad little narcissistic "i call it a county, and even that right is dubious..truth being most of em are sat indoors and gettin' fat watchin 'rugger'..and their footer team
2016
was i believe 80% English genes
rather than caring about their county seat - and how corrupt he is...)
but before we get to that. all my so called 'parent' ex 'friends can hear in a bit, so called sneak preview...
When the cunteratti destroy, as they did 15 Jan 2010.. though started just before that xmas...
One may well have been a controlling little anodyne toe rag, even if - with, as was well known, by FAR the most emotionally mature and fun kid for many miles...
the 'controlling' = " i have to be in controlled circumstances, i cannot have much noise...only the right pastel wallpaper, and certainly not any fat underclass in sight...."
As Wendle Berry didnt say: what the[poet needs is the worst unimaginably bad thing the worstthing....to happen, survive it and realise ALL you know, knew for sure 100% about your cirzx.... was right! cos i knew all!
is wrong.....
and that within only a few months of beginning the true to life one....
" who gives an f what fat Birminghamer is polluting my air with their body chemical odour.
"And as for all that concentration only possible in silence....
" guess the fuck what...everything i was all of it so perfectly poised and graceful...
FAILED.....so ... let go... be maybe the opposite
"which of course takes years.... but thanks for every turn of the narco-fascist Welsh screw
[too fat to]...."!
On a hill high up above a cliff at midnight, just 36 of your earthling hours ago.
For me a century.
"stop...we did not even need to say the word ...we just did..."
" i mean the funniest thing ever there you were i noticed you with your NAZI NHS smock...and lanyard blowin' in the wind... and i really did think hmmm she's a bit of all right but sorry how dare she pollute my perfect vista with her NAZI attire and even more NAZI damn lanyard blowin' in the wind...... she probably so mindfucked on all those pills they give out she can't remember her own name, only reason she has it on..."
seven hours
on
" well weren't you the naughty boy....judging a book by her cover..."
" Fair Nazui, actions speak louder than words, you would have too pay me in a whole beloved European country never mind just a passport, out of this NAzi controlled looney bin, to actually get me to kiss one... of your nation...
"but... you alone have earned even that martyrdom ....in paying me with the rarest of things - priceless now so rare, truth... i simply cannot tell you which path to take...back to him...12 years is a long time even if a love-tangent, within, ... or off with me and i don't even need to think about you downshifting into the simple pee-in-front of a man not really known...life... because you alone i know need...nothing....and would find every new-dawn outdoor pee
so easy
why you alone are
" stopped"
" look you know my 'setting' its pure quiet sublime poise and grace .....after all i think the last seven hours have proven that....
"if i were writing my diaries on the internment camp called the web of dreams... none of mine any dream, just fact...i would sometimes have on [boostaroo essential. makes even fairly shit 40 quid headphones play propper...] the real me music
" the most perfect of all songs... my most played in my 20s... apart from anything else i realised as soon as i committed to miss cowboy hat in December...she too had the key, hopefully...despite err Eckhart 'abit...maybe still; well i saw her writing, them Roches, do not tell me what to think.... nor does she
did she?
nazis...because i know your laugh at yourself was real... even if an hour backing it up with superb real science: 'UV and hedgerow grub....walks...'
well i saw you march off
in nazi attire and saw the most beautiful of all things in the universe, perhaps the only beautiful thing in these anodyne so conformist fearful times of fakery and three faces pondering themselves in the hall of cracked mirrors...: an incongruity...
"
