Arts purposelessness facing annihilation
A Day in the Life of an Imaginative Misfit
I’m watching her go from fridge to cooker to cup and back again (her daily exercise).
‘Cream!’ She muffles under her breath.
She forgot the cream for her extra-large stuffed with marshmallows hot chocolate, so she slops back again………….
Jesus how fat and sloppy and lazy she has become.




‘Why is he looking at me that way…. filthy loser’
I know that look-nothing is said but I know what she’s thinking-she doesn’t even have to move her lips-her eyes say it all.
And so, the day has begun-I sleep in the spare room-she and her fat arse have the double room with the double bed.
She usually gets up around eight.
I put the pillow over my head as I can’t stand listening to her rustling and squelching in the bathroom then groaning, hawking and spitting into the sink.
How did it ever come to this he thought?
Here’s her mother Christ what now?
She walks in without knocking-like she lives here.‘
Ah hello Eileen’ I say with my best sarcastic smile-of course she wouldn’t know sarcasm in fact she couldn’t spell it.
‘What brings you around this fine day?’I imagine what it would be like killing her.
She brushes past-totally ignoring me.Collusion, Isolation, Alienation aka CIA women with a plan.
We’re on a collision course.
I could ask her to come woodcutting with me-winter is on the way.
Stand there now Eileen stand by the trunk of that tree great-I’d start up the chainsaw-and before she knew it her head would be rolling along the ground- her bulging eyes staring at me.
‘Any news baldy’ she laughs
Don’t call me that! Bitch! I think not answering.
I start cutting off her arms then her legs-it’s the silence and the peace, never having to listen to her again.
A human splayed jigsaw.
I amble off to my bedroom to get dressed while Bitch and ol bag talk shite in the kitchen.
Phone rings it’s-The Johnny said my laptops ready- thank Christ-the only thing worth looking at in this place.
Now that’s a grand life Johnny has-your own life.
No woman.
No complications.
‘We’re going to Neds.’ she shouts from the hallway.
‘What? Hold on
I have to collect my laptop from Johnny’s.
’Now I’m imagining taking both of them for a spin over a cliff, jumping out at the last minute-waving-I’d hear the screams and the roaring-and I’d laugh as they flew-then nosed it into the open-mouthed sea below.
‘I’m sure the world of porn can wait for you.’ she calls out herself and her mother roaring with laughter.
They’re gone.
In my car!!
That’s it.
They’ll pay.
As my palm cupped her chin
‘shut up’ a squeal comes through the trellis of fissure skinned fingers squashing her face.
Come on he thought he pushed harder he couldn’t get in fuck it.
He feels tension, he’s coming she keeps squealing and crying ‘shuuut up’!!! he presses her mouth’.
Jesus he’s all over her-stop fucking crying he squeezes each word on her throat. Then out of nowhere
Wipeout in shades of memory and a measling mass of old
Wipeout in shades of memory and a measling mass of old
As it fades the measling mass turns to shades of nebulae and
Gold
Triggers-Diversions-Life and Algorithms
When you listen/look/hear/think/imagine about media of any kind-life and living sounds like a formula-well it is.
In their most insidious way Google and its algorithms are controlling our behaviours from actions to thoughts-verbal to written-reactions to consequences and unintended outcomes.
Our lives are not ours any more they actually are a formula-Googles and all Media.
With radio and newspapers-twitter-social media and all its extensions we are controlled by marketers.
Now marketers are not an entity one bit concerned about you and yours they are concerned with money and trying to get as much of it as they can by controlling you -your behaviour-your mind.
Forming your thoughts-they insinuate themselves into your mind until you change, and change comes from constant repetition also called habituation.
They have psychologists and psychiatrists-sociologists-philosophers inputting morsels of ideas into any campaign they are running.
‘What if’ that’s the question and they are willing to run with any solution or answer to that ‘what if’ question.
Google are the same except they pay big money to get the best psychologists et al to engineer human behaviour.
There is a reason for myth and symbols and the Ouroboros fits the bill for how life as we know is a perpetual recurring nightmare of the axiomatic algorithm.
When you think about it everyone is a counselor from the hack to the politician to everyman. How did society become consumed with themselves and everyone else’s attitudes-behaviours-problems-perceptions?
How did this happen:
The psychologist studies brain function, researching and identifying behaviour and emotional patterns: they learn the how to’s.
The Sociologist studies human behaviour and society.
The Psychiatrist studies diagnosis prevention and treating mental disorders
The philosopher studies the mind knowledge values and existence.
Mixing these together with a few spoons of computer science then bobs your uncle or aunt or whomever with this the algorithmic flood gates opened and there is no way to close them.
So now everyone is in on the act and the world starts to fall apart-little mental cracks form and shatter the unformed and delicate mind.
Triggers with constancy and repetition begin with lesions small then they spread like a neurological formation.
People start to share and complain they put their lives out there they open up and google and media love this-people make the programs for the radio and TV show with their constancy and repetition.
If no one contributes, then they will ring a loyal contributor- will you come on today we are talking today about suicide-abortion-break ups-money-lying-unfaithfulness-sadness-and the big one depression.
It has got so out of hand that charities abound-help groups-helplines-one to one counselling-resources everywhere. A massive business.
Subconsciously we know this is happening to our state of mind and life. It’s out of our control like our life.
The algorithms have taken over.
There is no resistance.
The virus is algorithms.
There is no hope.
It’s in the bank.
America a quagmire of debasement with increments of corruption-exploitation and perversion of the human mind, body, spirit
She thought how life was equally simple and difficult-why she was here was down to America-the land of the brave the free the undead.
She is incarcerated in this home-the crime-getting old.
The reason behind everything that is: Continue reading “America a quagmire of debasement with increments of corruption-exploitation and perversion of the human mind, body, spirit”
Boxed in this filament of excrement by insouciant eyes and caring guise of Americanism
Here she is 91 92 next month how did it ever get to this-if she lost her mind at least she wouldn’t know what was going on-being treated like a lump of meat. That’s all she is. Serving out her time to keep Continue reading “Boxed in this filament of excrement by insouciant eyes and caring guise of Americanism”
The American Mould-Nearer my God to Thee-silently praying in votive adoration-wishing-hoping for Divine Intervention and Expiration
When it came to be Nearer to God and the chips were down-others clung on vice like to the old trunk-like larva to a leaf nothing could rip them off her not even hurricane Jim.
She was 91, 92 next month.
Sometimes you would wonder what do grown elderly adults of elder parents want. You’re an adult of 61 years of age maybe married maybe not have children maybe not-but the attachment to this trunk is like a vine wrapped and clinging Continue reading “The American Mould-Nearer my God to Thee-silently praying in votive adoration-wishing-hoping for Divine Intervention and Expiration”
the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit
the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit
it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes
it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes

It has started again- the empty space
Is filling up with
wagging mouths licking
And snipping gnawing and gnarling
Suffuse their empty and pitiless lives
Suffocate them with saliva drenched
Detritus
Opinions regurgitated vomited with vileness
Stench
classless ceaseless
The cream has sank
We’re drowning in ourselves
Everything fired the container up-soaking -imagining he thought she was an easy target-he missed
Everything fired the container up-soaking -imagining he thought she was an easy target-he missed
The new moon has immense consequences immense-
sliding over the
the evolution of time dispenses such centrifugal and contrapuntal mind sets that any kind of alignment is beyond evolutions remit
The evolution of time dispenses such centrifugal and contrapuntal mind sets that any kind of alignment is beyond evolutions remit
he licked her body knowing there was no way
back to see how she would feel it
he knew by the heat and
it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes
it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes
the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit
the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit
life as we know it is a sequence of detritus buried by sincere insincerity
watching their faces landscaped with sincerity that’s
A moment
It passes you are forgotten
And they make
Continue reading “life as we know it is a sequence of detritus buried by sincere insincerity “
tempestuousness in the beautiful man cannot be contained in this already restrained animal.
the constant and consistent demands on his inner Boreas is exhausting. Boreas Continue reading “tempestuousness in the beautiful man cannot be contained”
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0005f10
what lies beneath the strange pleasure of unquenchable
thirst-what is this endless desire line with no turn
to feel to touch to hold to kill with kisses Continue reading “Desire Line Shortcuts with ‘Josie Long’ is the perfect metaphor to describe how we became magnetised”
Raw material is sculpted to divine intervention: Prostitution shaped
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/w3csvsfs the poetry of hell
gentlemans-club-a-world-thats-rarely-seen
we do it-mold it-we watch it
how does he sculpt life and then want it
self oppressive escapism is unfolded
we want to escape-we can’t- we can’t if only
the scalpel cuts into the mind deep: the self
is exposed the wound open
he kisses like an archer aiming deep within
nothing about him is done slowly
passion
woman
man
It must be a nullifying experience to have life’s bastion in your hands.
Cutting, digging, exploring, deciding, analysing, heating, climaxing Continue reading “KISS of LIFE KISS of DEATH when his baton conducts the way of life”
Some Body I don’t know
I waited.
Some women are not aware of me-you are not one of them-you try to open me-express
me-use me, you feel me more than your physical self.
Easy.
When something happens that unbalances me or knocks me out of sync with the environment and you are the environment and this is also an environment. Continue reading “When the mind takes over”
When the Silver Case Releases the unexpected
When the Silver Case Releases the unexpected
I waited.
Some women are not aware of me-you are not one of them-you try to open me-express
me-use me, you feel me more than your physical self. Continue reading “When the Silver Case Releases the unexpected”
This man has something that is undefineable much like the beautiful man. The essay I wrote and found was unusually intense considering I only saw his work in Chelsea NY in 2001.
Like beautiful man it made an impact everything about it was feverishly sexual. Running over with, in, out, above and beyond it.
Funny how art is climactical.
When you look at the fleshy sensuous body on the table and as you do so your eyes collide something extraordinary happens…….
Ra using the judgement spell tries to distract from the global eclipse of their souls.
One living one dying…. The distress urges death to relent, let go, give in.
The master sorcerer who can’t let the living die denies Imentet her dues.
Because of this the living and dead soul intertwine and are caught in the Book of the Dead’s judgement spell.
The master is stupified by the energy of this quantum entanglement.
He feels his life flow waning his body wants hers.
His mind is determined.
Imentet flees to the branch of the silent tree and remains there waiting for both their souls to come together.
When a heart is served inadvertently on a plate to a man of pantomime it elucidates actions beyond comprehension.
He is a stranger or is it she is the stranger, two strangers look at each other in a tempestuous whirl.
Then looking through the glass bottom magnified a thousand times she falls into his philosophically absurd, beautiful disguised world: fleshy, sexual, sensual, surgical.
Imentet watched and waited………………….
What can an image convey, can it convey anything to the blank mind. That mind that always looks for reasons, and why, and can you change, and how, and what does that mean, mean, mean, meaning. That always need the succour. Decant their minds of effluent and trash tv and influencers and yellow journalism and mighty marketears whose soul purpose is entropy of the spirit.
You must be logged in to post a comment.