Wednesday, November 21, 2012


(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…”