(1) Alrighty, it’s Time to be (in) Exact
(2) Peeling
Shreds of Skin (-en) Lips
(3) All great Asses induce
Contemplation, a Dynamo-Effect of Contemplation
(4) However if the One
who Seeks to Contemplate an Ass is
Aroused by a Provisional Rise due to the Representation of what Desires Action, than all Concentration,
all Hope, surely, is Lost.
(5) As far as Reacting: one should be Detached, Restful, “At
Ease”, Contemplative, “Emotionally Devoid”, beyond Indignation and full of the Ability
to Refuse Approval; this is another
way of Saying: You should be so Full-of-Shit,
it should be literally, Breathtaking
(6) Oh, how it was my
Time to Kid
(7) It’s that utterly Strange, and rather Repulsive Drive of the
Human needing to Forget, all that we Know, all that we might have Experienced
that Delivered us Pain, Delivered us Struggle, as if, these very Moments, Interactions, or Intimacies, were in the
End, not Worthy of our Mind, our Fiber, or most importantly, the Continuation of our Life.
(8) In Other Words: “That
Shit ain’t Worth 2 Poops or a Squirt—[!]”
(9) At
least Occasionally, one ought to Tend towards “being” a
Disaster
(10) I fully Recognize, and Accept, that
the Complicated Image of this is one of Thievery, and of a Questionable Degree
(11) I fully Admit, that the ultimate Goal is
of Containing you, regardless of your
random Offerings of Surrender, regardless
of your Deceiving Disguise
(12) I
often Wonder what Secrets are kept there in the Cul-De-Sac
(13) “All Thinking,
on Love, is a thinking on, but also, within Loss.
(14) And it is
in this little Shitty Conundrum, that it Resembles, the Idea, for Example, that
each Passion Erases a Portion of the General
Idea of the Self, that is, of Being the
Self, and it is this Prying at the Notion, that I find myself Pondering:
Because, there is in this City, no one thing, to which the Texture of ‘Facilis
Descensus Averno’ corresponds
(15) Thus: The Descent to your Ass is an
Elegy, to what this cannot, properly,
Signify
(16) But Today,
I Plead: “Heart: be Still in your
Fill”
(17) So He
Swilled a “Ton of Ass”
(18) Everything
in this World is Mobile but Desire, which is Immobile, Immoveable, Insurmountable
(19) “I Cannot,”
Izsus wrote, “consider Pleasure as anything but a Removing oneself from Desire,
which is like Removing oneself from the Electricity of the City to the utter Stagnation
of the Country.”
(20) After all
is Said and Chicago has been Obliterated before my very Eyes, the Final Chapter
shall Begin: “Thou Art…”
