Ralph Schism: I love a Kraut

So, ever since THE day...

samstag, dritter august....

But it was also..also.... 1600ish that day, she cannot take away...... the weaknesss from not enough food beginning to turn my legs to rubber... or "jelly" ..

Chancing upon the ultra mong as i fast march the sands on my 20th km... another 7 or 8 stretched out front

" i simply cannot place this accent of yours, and i have spent all summer living .. just BEing in one 'moment' "now"...: lopeing in my own country, here, "now": saudade lands

"saudade i heard a few years ago from a rare Eurochic i didnt like - hertoo utterly sick with affluenza from affluenza a decade here, having got to know her... she told me 'it isn't finished yet'...

"I 'got it back'... [oops spoiler alert as the fat ogglebox binge watchers of television box sets smugly throw in like chip fat spatters]...all day, many days i meander among many a tongue

"and unlike homegrown ones they never use it to hiss... nor pull tongues with it, behind your back...

" blahh blahh..is it maybe Dutch or maybe Swiss...nooohhh i have an ear now for Tobleronish..ehhh..i give up... "

" Half Estonian... half Spaniardish although dad was not exactly..dad.."

FasT forward yesteraft at the bench: i WISAH I Had recalled - but then they always are all in such a hurry. Nerduda and his " a conversation does not begin until we have been speaking an hour" oh well we packed afucko'lot into 15 minutes...

Indeed every lacuna poking its noze in, between every note of Ludo's perfect audio diatribe.. the way they melted into REAL conversation as equals...

Had i remembered as i have a brilliant memory (as she heard yesteraft in her humble lovely old banger...why did i linger?)

I would have added in..

" creativity - your pathist topic of discussion i rudely butted in... , i dont know... it is as if there are yes as i say two types... that which is shoved up the bum of ferral yoof.. even mister kindof arrogant conceited, himself said later " i aint me babe'... i didn't write " aint it just like the night playin' tricks when youre tryin to bw quiet.." what i thought when her first message came in octer 2023...or even better ' we sit here stranded, on shitcreek quay, though were all doin' our best to deny it..' ... or... samstag, dritter august i met simply an impossible one of your gender ...with no agenda... she spoke to me in her muvva tongue ... sat with her fakeboho mates 'n boyfriend at the beach edge... she actually pronounced 'Lermontov' in her Estonian ma's accent... despite being stuck here stranded for years...

"and my knees wobbled even more.... but as i had said to her .. his one novel, A Hero... he wrote about age 22 ish... my jaw was dropped the whole reading.... such a young man managing to sum up the paucity and... no meaning, no heroism just get the fuck up the next day and smile at that, last.... it is as good, maybe better than any Tolstoy or even Georgie Elliot... 'ts Camus before Camus' mum was on the banana boats a century later..it is almost perfect new original poetical thought... and sorry theres no way some snotty feral yoof could be that perfectly 'insightful', even on 'power' and cant and vanity among the powerful... unaided... by the goddesses... or whatever one wishes to call sublime happenstance magic jabbed into your fingers as you may riff with words...

" but then perhaps a second type... the worst poet ever - as almost ALL 'green' people are when it comes to words... the train wreck of a bad but famous poet, Wendel, who when he was interviewed for Start The Week a few years ago didnt have the sanity to say in his old powerful age ' no i will NOT be up at 0400 for your show as it ruins my mindbody ... sleep is far more important than publicity for my very bad famous poetry but also if i am a REAL environmentalist rather than the usual fake variety for fake admiration from fakes who arroved in Hay-on-Wye on the way from other fake places like Totness possibly even East Pastylandshire... i will set an example and NOT be up all night wasting electricity... record me...in the daylight...and put it out 12 hours later... '

" he did at least say one sane thing, that exempts him from the metaphorical gas chamber his dead poetry deserves.. ' what the poet needs [he meant any creative mind or even non creative minds, yesterday] is for the worst conceivable thing to happen to [ any pronoun, as all humans are pretty much the same - as this one proves, , dont believe your fake uni education, hijacked, indeed kidnapped by the fat gobs of Woolly Polly...as it divests them of ANY responsibility to educate or be wise elder to ANYone their tyrannous "we are all unique and different" ... so they dont have to work hard with anyone to cause real healthier modes....cos all chabge takes many years of hard work or maybe impossible.] ... and survive it..' because if one truly lets go - eg writing; and previously, to the nuclear bomb chucked into your sane and decent life, caring very much about presentation, spelling, grammar... in the Wasteland of post Apocalypse - Wendel's 'worst thing', which it is IMPOSSIBLE to predict..or write out in a menu - that too is The Black Swan...

" as the frankly evil 'mindfulness' hotyoga tribes - almost majority these days especially in this Wasteland called the SW... all incomers all recreate fantasy versions of their past....for money, meaning selling false pasts to not be a cleaning lady, in the 'now'...... cannot allow - one never ever knows what MAY IN TIME DO ONE 'GOOD'.. AND ONE THING I KNOW YOU NEVER SHOULD PAY FOR IT

" letting go may mean as bad simple example, no longer caring about presentation - obviously one still DOES care - as individual nature doesnt hange much in life at a certain level... but one learns to let go of caring about caring..if for example one no longer has an electrical socket as i found 15 years ago... for 3 years and thus creative splurges also had to be unmoderated messy stuff that could never be written more artfully... and guess what it works... so yes the real indian headgear up the bum... that hurts.. it isnt the 'pain' or more correctly years of arid bleakness in the desert... its the letting go ..of self regard... people who have had the real nasty stuff happen to sometimes can do... that is the second variety of 'creativity' i think .. but yooz far too babes not in the wood as the miners and military stole most of it down here and didnt put any back.... Lermentov ... one example of young peeps coming up with astonishing new stuff that later most of them may state in dotage ' that was helped... some other ...force... schema ... was working in my fingers too' .."

" but all i know is that.. later on... even if in my own case it is the REAL version of losing 'identity'... also the worst thing to happen to us - a Wendelism... as i was for my first 25 adult years only even meek, quiet, extremely humble... well... being an adult is i guess accepting that you may have to throw away your whole self when you ONLY like him or her...and still do... only that old him or her....for something more important...at a 'common good' level comes and bites your black feathery ass...

" my generation have committed total Wasteland genocide... for gods sake do NOT listen to any of us or value any for one second ANY British communicator or so called 'expert'....... we have of course creative arts but then we also have stuff we need like science and i am 100% sure that Sabine.. 10..maybe 20 years ago KNEW for sure she will all her life remain a [not sexy] professional careful... not engaging practitioner of grown up science.... she did the work.. she read the books.. got the degrees

and probably phds...

" and i know not how or why..

she hit The Tube and... became a little cheeky

frech (i remeber that word hahh hahh)

pietätlos

... she let go... she started to speak in double entendre (the language of the gods..ish)

or my favourite - the recently dead Steve Wright king of....Sardonique...

" and thus... she is trusted, liked... and TRULY educates us.... never mind the number 1 sexiest older thing on the interweb of lies and deceit... "