SO the one so called luxury purchased, errata, stolen....in many a year.
Or is it stealin to....?
Sign a treaty for such an overpriced so called consumer item.
Built they say....
of the coolest metals and bits o wire....
well they also say some other things like their App works....
And it's all hyped 'optics' wise with just those kinds of bearded white guys about 27 who may break the rules to show off with a swift craft beer somewhere.
Or Other.
But the others...
Having to roll back to the others the shitty ones as if poetic justice on me for laughing so much a year ago: "well you can hang for your payments.." " i mean are you gonna knock on my door and come and get em back...bless yer souls!..."
And as we fast forward to doubtless just as the Bee^ and Ohh Ohh warranty expires.... even if part free... they blow up.
Oh shucks poetry in justice.
But no.
But
As if to scientifically dictate that all in the mind is like the way i used to need a shower after a bath,
until one day not.
There is no way that well used little fourty quidders could possibly deliver as hyped up supersound as the two hundreders minus my time for figuring their 'app' that never worked and another load of time figuring if they could be fixed.
Just like every bicycle purchased for years.
even that one...or two, off the so called Green Messiahs man and wife...
never used. Or hardly
Left to rot and rust in the rain and damp.
She off saving the planet.
He charging me over the odds for recording just one take of her song...
because im so miserable and sour to let it out ever again....
live.
Life is.
Impossible to understand as of course Soccers said quite right too...
But even more impossible despite paying in blood.
Is how absurdly fun
crazy fun
liminal fun
There are not words to describe just how impossible
yes i know she got t "active sublime" not original to me.
But fine words from behind her steamed up glasses wearing a ....
nope we dont talk about that.
Living the active sublime which like her mount you have no idea when and if it will buck you off...
because it is a real live thing and not of mere man.
But think not that like all the Saducess and Pharisees, otherwise known in my speeches as the actually not new age lot. Even if many are getting aged so need to weasel word and sell their potions what are they called i forget when you sell something that claims medical or psycho spritual remedy when its just like that Holford thing where the wirse weren't even connected inside at sixty quid.
Con.
Soma.
Wo spread like a pandemic of poison pill sellers and dodgy eardrop quacks.
And did spread. (one should hear the quasi religious tone there - the religion, them, alone)
But I know like Gnarls.
IT
Not one bit
of it
Worked.
For them.... ever...as we have seen some twelve months.
And gone out and sought be it by chariot or subtly undercover.
And of course they must not be 'hates' there has never been hate.
There is only disdain and snottiness.
Even a certain loony race of whitey were born in love; luv.
Just got diverted into self regard.
And badly bought up no doubt, too.
Bt i have no interest in any past.
Past
A year ago when that funy old word, visceral.
A bit fashionable this week.
To exist.
To chariot down Byron's drive.
In a non Byronic place as he couldnt just shut up and walk up beyond 'my' style.
To need to be anywhere other than here - there.
Just go.
When all else are intent on only staying.
And know every cold morning heading out.
A year ago.
Twas the right thing.... just move.... keep moving....
But thats the dull version.
better to get to that far more impossible fun.
I mean..... even the farrier was curious: so "where d'ye know her from then"
Her being I am sure their number one sex kitten of all time.
Yes i spied two years ago.
Preparing for the actual impossible: getting them fuckers who said they care, or rather screamed and sobbed, to...just have a cuppa together and plot
"Farage...his crew...even out here, middle of nowhere...Stormtroopers were signin em up old folx homes..."eh up dear maybe you'll need some help to get down to the booth... and a cuppa....and a reminder of whom...to put your cross by.."
Nope... their crosses were not even earned, because manners to not even reply "too busy thanks for the suggestion.." is the end of all human humanity. And thus.
But thats another story.
SO.
hahh hahh hahh bless your soul.
I am in control.
The January rains and february non stop
Well thats fuckedit
Earning, motor, whatever.
Never mind friends.
And that little sex kitten. Just a silly notion. I mean....
I mean...
Tsnot poss...
simply her 'never' in every quantumly entamgled witches coven - the sexiest lot, with the biggest grudges for never being loved for just their fine potions...
snot poss...Just never
I mean gusset-day was awful enough.
Spesh as it was the hottest... me and the hottest and her so simply wonderful
Well she aint little for that age.
But then we have the winter and thut turns everyone inside
Who knows what
Not me but.
"give up".
It's in my chronicles
"well that about does it talk of perfect parable that sums it all up - them.."
And then.
Then...
There is something so so way beyond even a wonderful seditious song and ...
even love.
And poetry could not do her justice oops typo it - the pure event, the moment...
it-justice...
neither man nor woman, there is what should be.
Always.
No matter what.
Does that make me crazy (must be 2008) ...not even possibly.
Cos itz ben the right thing to do ever since there were villages and children in them...
And she did think twice if she even cam all thoise nails to do.
But she did.
But that is not in the 'story' because cherries and cake are bad for you.
And no one not even I would believe. Such a happy 'ending' spesh when just about everyone stuck in an unhappy one - by default. WHo said that in this glorious year ohh the little one "Theyre all living out a soap opera..." how wise for her mere 21 years...
But I know why she is
SO wise.
Because she turned to me to tell me,of her father... that day at the busstop, hers...
where she goes to smoke and be her.
But that is also another day that will be done because in fact until it is done i will not be done.
SO lets cut the crappy feeling sorry for onesself ... not even for five minutes for five seconds
Is bad enough.
This is live.
I do not stop to think.
To compose.
And the sun is always in mine eyes.
As was sweats just a ridiculous half an hour ago.
Smiling.
ANd telling of our 'infantry' ... heading up our hill.
Six... i mean fuck me up the jaxi with a stiff farriers rasp...
six....
Thats almost a battalion or at least some significant nameable row of them...
But of course, i did not.
Go.
I did not need to.
I saw them in my minds eye.
It was only their day.
Who am I.
Derelict. Finished. But talk about goin out with a bang...a not very fuckin silent bang...
Even if another technique so 'learned' and hated... this last year...if you want to just maybe get through to them.... write in one line little paragraphs for gods sake cos even her you write her a paragraph and get accused of a sermon..
they can only think or read in bimbo speakesy like facebookese or tik tok minute too much for them. SO be it.T'aint pretty. But talk abou....
oops two lines there
being 'inclusive'''
Good job she my nobByronc sis hasnt been in my kitchen
Yet
That could be the most dangerous line break in history.
And seen all three.
Copies of his so glorious is it 350 pages
Not even one line break.
One paragraph.
Extinction.....
And at last it seems even if the so called greatest intellectual professor in so called Britain has not even heard of my Thom... because i grilled his wonderful hair in p person for an hour. And a fact is a horses mouth.
AT last some are getting it.
"This is probably the best of them all... almost all century.."
"the pure crazy realpoetry in every ...."well you read it
But then along came Rachel.
I don't know I am biased in favour of the appressed.
Isn't that o pressed...
Oh pressed...
"Miss Oh Jenny go and put the dinner on love will you I'm pressed for time before i have to dash to the pub"?
Well they shouldv seen me in the greatest news ever
Crazy...
Effete. Whatever the word.
Real machine guns is a word. And action.
"Ladies.... [one in particular looking as sweet as Joan B] ... your feminist revolution is all very well and i am proud to be tagging along
" but...
" all these complicated words even here in your glorious Bolivian Republic of no nonsense and eating and laughing all day...
" ladies... if you can just get im to do half the housework..maybe even half the baby.."
twitch twitch on those triggers .
As no young men anywhere like being told the truth.
SO be it.
Oh that was an anti-climax you had to be there, and the target, visceral cannot poosibly suffice as a word.
Anyway where was i oh yes so all the nutters even here with their conspiracy theories that the CIA who certainly 'did'it - putting the blond in, in a country of the most gorgeous undyed hair in the world...
all dark.
And were going to do it again.
Last was it autumn, here...
Nope thats it back to another satellite.
The lithium stolen to power their satelites.
The blond smiling.
The left finished and coup d'etated for good no hope.
And then.
Something else came along and.
And.
And.
How on earth do i remember all these ands?
Good job i have no complaints..
Nor illnesses....oops errata seems they became as one. Forever.
Good jobe i am done.
