dont know what to think, say or do.. completelty idle i am.. problem is that the joy of repetition really in meaaah.. but its ok.. i dont have any point of correctness nothing is static anything caN be true or false.. but false is da tempting one.. false is da licence plate of where i belong.. just cant get right or do i ? where am i running through.. idle and running, clash of termz.. point the finger blame the other.. if there is any point.. do i adress to someone.. where is it.. anybody out there or am i noiselesss.

whadeva..

"Hamtaro" 1990

like a rainbow
in the darkness,
a masterpiece
unsigned,
a hole with no donut,

I drift,

unchained and free...
I'm a rebel,
free-range hamster seeking golden grains of truth.
I'm a boat without an anchor,
the fly that missed the swatter,
I am my own moonlight
and brighten my own way..

John S. Hall

Once there was an adorable little bunny that hopped and bopped through the cotton fields eating carrots all day long. The people loved him and thought he was so fucking cute and sweet and good,
And he hated that. He liked to eat the carrots, but that was about it. He had seen this movie Willard about a bunch of rats who eat Ernest Bordenine and a bunch of other people, who are Mean to Willard, Then they eat Willard because he tried to poison them.
The adorable little bunny thought this was so cool.
The bunny was tired of being cute and cuddly in the cotton field.
The bunny wanted to go north, to the big city,
And play in the garbage and scare people by slithering around in the subways and on the streets.
Bunny bunny wanted a rat tail, not a bushy cotton tail.
Bunny bunny wanted to screech, like a rat, instead of a bunny.
Bunny wanted to stop hopping; it was undignified and adorable.
And bunny wanted to be more omnivorous.
Carrots were ok but it would be so cool to eat stuff that other people would throw away.
“It would be like recycling. It would be better for the environment." bunny would rationalize.
"People can eat carrots; I'll eat what the people throw away I'll live inside walls and screech and if anyone ever tries to pat me again, I'll bite them and, hopefully, give them rabies.
Oh! What a wonderful life it would be, To just be a rat!”
“There is one thing that really bugs me about this dream, however." said bunny bunny
"It's how formulaic and pedestrian this story is. I mean, it's completely obvious that I'm going to meet some magical wizard, or find some occult book, or some rat dust, or be captured by scientists who are working on some bunny to rat gene splicing experiment or something like that. At any rate, there is no question that I will get my wish and get to live in the big city, scare some people, eat and play in that garbage, run around in the subways, till one day, I accidentally eat rat poison or get caught in a glue trap and either decide it was all worth it anyway because my dream finally did come true or otherwise feel cheated because it wasn't as much fun as I thought it was going to be. But no matter what, the rest of my life is entirely predetermined. I don't see how I can go on or how I could possibly enjoy being a rat for a single second when I have already worked out my destiny in my little bunny head. I can't think of a single reason for continuing with this charade for another second. I'm getting out now. Fuck this. Find some other bunny stooch to be your rat for the day. I'm hopping the fuck out of here, right now."
In fact, let me finish this story for you, you pathetic pedestrian hack.
Bunny bunny hopped off in a great big huff, ate 100 carrots in a row, and died of vitamin A poisoning.

The end.

numera deus impare gaudet
numera deus impare gaudet
numera deus impare gaudet
numera deus impare gaudet
numera deus impare gaudet
numera deus impare gaudet
numera deus impare gaudet

sunday morning 04:00 am

in the death car... we're alive!

cynical hysterie hour

hurts so much that i need some clarinette


to clean up

to re set

there was a place i knew a long time ago
everything was tranquil, love was in the air
here is where i am, here is were i was
here is were i want to be

i'm trying hard to let go

shine your teeth to meaningless

j u s t s m i l e a l l t h e t i m e

j u s t s m i l e a l l t h e t i m e


j u s t s m i l e a l l t h e t i m e



j u s t s m i l e a l l t h e t i m e




j u s t s m i l e a l l t h e t i m e

don't believe in pocketless pyjamas

just ignore them

you'll be happier . .

Everything I think ends up in sex
Every little chance I have I use it
After one is done
I wonder who's next
And all the girls I see are all the girls I want

Everytime I have has a specific purpose

I think that I am a freak of nature
And after I do it
I wanna do it
I wanna do it again

I wanna do it, again
Do it again

I am freak
I repeat
I am a freak
I repeat...

If you let me lick the skin of your fingers
I'll try to lick your skin 'till your bones
How far are you
Willing to go?

What used to be inside me was love
But now there's nothing nothing
But this pain in my chest
That it seems in get softer
With sex

And after,
After I do it
I wanna do it again

I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again

I am freak
I repeat
I am a freak
I repeat...
A freak
Come closer

And after I do it
I wanna do it
I wanna do it again

I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
Again, again
And again, and again, again, again, again, again

Freak
You're the freak
I repeat
Yes I need

I am a freak
I repeat, I repeat
I am a freak
A freak...

f i s t f u l o' f r a g m e n t s

a dream is an answer to a question

we haven't learned how to ask..

wherever i am, i am what is missing

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.


When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.


mark strand (1964)

Poetic Terrorism

WEIRD DANCING IN ALL-NIGHT computer-banking lobbies. Unauthorized pyrotechnic displays. Land-art, earth-works as bizarre alien artifacts strewn in State Parks. Burglarize houses but instead of stealing, leave Poetic-Terrorist objects. Kidnap someone & make them happy. Pick someone at random & convince them they're the heir to an enormous, useless & amazing fortune--say 5000 square miles of Antarctica, or an aging circus elephant, or an orphanage in Bombay, or a collection of alchemical mss. Later they will come to realize that for a few moments they believed in something extraordinary, & will perhaps be driven as a result to seek out some more intense mode of existence.

back to basics "damentag"

Hayatımdaki kadınlar çok değerliler,
bi şekilde ne kadar kötü davranmış olsalar da bir zamanlar bana,
liman gibiler zor zamanlarımda sığınabileceğim,

belki abartıyorum ama bugünlerde hiç birşey boşuna olmuyor.


Hey dostum everything is happening for a reason..

Football is good cause it's green : )

stones and flowers on the ground
we are lost and found
but love is gonna save us

status update;

deeply disturbed, deeply unhappy

love

love is a sensitivity by one person to another's existence.

so messed up, i want you near
in my room i want you here
now we're gonna be face to face
and i'll lay right down in my favorite place

body language

an emcee told a crowd of hundreds to put their hands in the air.

an armed robber stepped to a bank and told everyone to put their hands in the air.

a christian minister gives his benediction while the congregation hold their hands in the air.

love the image of the happy Buddha with his hands in the air.

hands up and feel confused, define tomorrow

Saul Williams