Norm
MalGOLLY GOSH.
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[ April 2007 ] [ June 2007 ]
Equal and Opposite - May 2007
TAKING THE WEE
For all intents and purposes, and there are too many to name individually, decisions are dictated by the movement of time, which is merely a clock that sits on a wall or a wrist, and making a decision without the use of a mental process one is merely urinating one's mortality up against a vertical structure that holds up a roof, and it is this that we all do without fail according to the hidden structure that holds up all human affairs, and it is precisely this that makes our efforts to make ourselves clear that leads to even more urine corroding the structure of the perpendicular support. Far be it from someone like myself to expound views that aren't consistent with my own, but we are not really of our making despite what we might think, and what we might think is never as important as what we do, and the fact that we don't enough or do too much is what constitutes missing the wall with two streams of liquid that splash all over our shoes; and it is missing pissing all over the seat that I will miss most about being a breathing structure of my own (and not of my own). Pissing and urinating: equal.
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ONE AND ONLY
When one asks oneself whether this or that is possible, it is entirely plausible, not to say possible, that one has, to speak of imperatives, the need to tell the world of your greatness and have others confirm the previous proposition, which is all good and well, except to say, and in absolute accord with the logic of divinity, that humanity is never, hardly never, if ever at all then that, in receipt of the answer to any question for the question itself is already the answer, but to questions that are mere currents of spiritual awareness, and are silent in the highest degree, there is only the resounding answer of more and greater silence which can never sit well with those humans who are hell bent on delivering to the world their particular vision of their own experience, which, it has to be said, is rather less spiritual than would otherwise have been hoped for and is, in fact, more in line with traditional values of climbing ladders, scratching backs and kissing bottoms, not to mention sucking things that you would never flop out onto the dining table, even if you'd had a few too many and a lovely lady caught your eye and put it in her pocket, for it is having ocular organs in the pockets of beautiful girls that we all aspire, even those of us who are as spiritual as to not even have any, and all this crap can only lead to one and only one logical conclusion: one and all: equal.
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I can write Fark as much as I like but not Fark
By all accounts, and they are all sketchy, it is evident, mostly for unforseen reasons, that the state of things, which are at best innumerable, are rather worse than was initially thought, and that is really saying something, considering the initial reports were predominantly negative, not to say that there weren't aspects that were positive, but that the whole lot looked liked a big hairy arsehole, which is to put it mildly, and putting it mildly is another way of putting it extremely, and putting anything in a hairy arsehole is, to put it mildy, rather extreme. In any event, and there have been many, there are questionable methods that have been used to gather the information, which at its best is accurate and at its worst a bucketful of the hairiest arseholes this side of the place where there are the most of those particular anatomical anomalies, and it is this that raises serious questions about the questions themselves, which, as has been said, is a question mark hanging over a question mark, so, to put not too fine a point on it, if you do have a hairy one or even two, particularly that because having a pair of those is akin to having a couple of pieces of punctuation poised over your privates, not to say that there isn't a remedy for that predicament, then its really alright to take forever and a day to make one or even two particularly laboured points about any one thing that takes your interest. Flexible and direct: opposite.
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FARKED IF I CAN THINK OF A TITLE
For all my efforts, as strenuous as they've been, I've never really tried very hard, at least not for any length of time, very hard at anything, not anything of any value anyway, because nothing has ever really grabbed me, not in any meaningful way, in a manner that would enable one to absorb oneself in endeavour, mostly because I'm more hand-towel than blue liquid. In all these strivings for some meaning in work, which for all my writing have been fruitless, it has become evident, as clear as plastic, that life is just one more thing that has escaped me, even though it has never been in my custody, because my vision has been in my mind, and my thoughts in my eyes, and it is this fundamental failing that has left me with one leg shorter than the other and a bag of balls that hang about my ankles like some exotic tribal social signal like you'd see in a pair of sunglasses with a frilly hat stuffed up your rectum, as they seem to favour in certain parts of high society such as those that I've oft frequented with the carefree demeanour of a man with a heavy heart and an arsehole full of the work of some hatter whose mental health could only be described as a little dubious, to say the least, particularly with regard to ornamentation but certainly not comfort, in fact, having a couple of testicles around your heels and a hat in your duodenum is highly enticing to just the right sort of lady, such as those with firm upright bosoms and lips that are just so inviting, as if to say that if you like moustaches on your women then these are they for you. I've gone on a bit, my humble apologies. Highly structured and loose as a goose: opposite.
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Return to type
I have been without the necessary ability, due to disabilty, of posting publishability with any certainty of verbosity. It's been a while since I've put my mind to wordage in a formally normal way. More currs than the way to worded pieces, I've fallen away. It feels good to let the old motor run again. I'll try not to make this too oily but please, it's been a while. A while ago I had not the resource or freedom to let the thing run. Too caught up in the importance of my exports, I have let the beast out now. It's refreshing for me to realise that I've still got the capability to enjoy loquacity of textuality, even though in reality my capacity is neglible. Inelible for flapping are my lips. My mind is like some sort of sifting device for flour. Stick this in a vase, would you please. Thank you for letting the thing go again, whoever or whatever you are. A shout out to malcontents and setting suns. A combination of nostalgia and amnesia has merged and I'll soon see what comes of what: needless to say that I've never known exactly what I've been doing. Equal and opposite: equal and opposite.
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Species native to certain land areas that exhibit hostility to foreign organisms
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I wish I had the courage to take a risk in life.
But the thought of it is too scary.
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Virtual Coward.
No. I just can't write it. I'm too worried about the repercussions.
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