Wanna write wanna can’t stand not to

Creative Forums Creative Writing
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The name of this post is writing for its own sake. It’s bout about the 3 or three Cheryl’s.

And it will take many many volumes to do so, and her heart hurts and I tell her mine hurts her just telling of her hurt heart.

I mean it and to prove that me-no addict no mor3e the fact of the matter she s all of her family and mine addicted, heavily to different substances. Yes me not shamed into the state of shaming the shame of being ashamed of the shame that’s paranoia.

We’re leaving again since things , the vibes of which turned morbid, dark, etc. and having lunch in a little Japanese restaurant telling my sweet daughter, about the Crow being the most intelligent bird possibly in the whole universe, so ion that note, started to try to communicate one who probably belongs to some flock of them, and they look like they do understand something of the gibberish excluding from my throat, as the crane their shirt necks shining blackly in the setting sun ..

Blocks happen all the time, and then never sure of such unpredictable lapses, the remembrance of recent reflections on artistes, such as Procol Harum’s ‘Nights of White Satin, out of the way past summer of loves’ Monterey Pop Festval, where Delmore Schartz inspired author performer Walk on the wild side forgot his name , he traced his inspiration oh yes to Lou Reed and even further Balt to Keats.

But the asides trace is gotta be,the blade runner comes through the depth, holding his breath, until his lungs feel like they’re about to explode, and then the worry comes about decompressing the depths.

Shirley , comes true like love me three times but she was only a little Asian girl back in the far side of the moon, can never fathom it, only through a magical mystery tour evoked by the pull of the same, as that which the sun also rises. I care us more the you know says I, say it all in one gulp of torrents of sunlit and skied tangerine azure hue, stained by Neil Young’s combines pressing it to moss? No

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Got be what? That the loneliness of the runner, the runner being some cold Fahrenheit forty one? Something but rather descriptive of the illusionary French new wave verity of (trying to remember, scratchy head ) later by dint try compressing and deluding it, wasn’t delaydid the favorite of the Studio 54 crows back in Warhole days? - no that’s a misspell, but kind of a neat miss, for look where the New Left led us, into a hole? a warring god damned hole, into which or from which people know kind of that the warning to them not to enter here should apply?

So get back to Keith Harding, the kid wearing a Keith Herring shirt at an AGI meeting noticing that a comment was made, appealing to a then present Sensei,

So asked him, the sensei, about how to get there and he replied by becoming a Bodshiva or something who belonged in the later day of the mystic law enveloped inside The Buddha’s cavernous tiny brain, that was inaccessible thereafter to only one mystic, who handed down the tradition, Nicherin.

At any rate, the song ‘White Nights of Satin’ no ‘Nights of White Satin ‘ was The classic song of the summer of love , and the lyricist said of it in an interview that some things came to him like out of nowhere, admittedly he never ever heard of it on a prior occasion. He said images floated very much appearing disconnected, and later recollected as if by magic, and he gave examples of it . The whole process of that image fed what later sensed to be an imagined landscape, an imaginary landscape connecting in lots or parcels of fed in information, kind of like Deus ad Machina, from cubic images to hyperbolic flows. Dali’s self absorptive inner journey, was a self prescribed fearless attempt to get in touch.

And that took him back to the surrealistic pillows of Dali, and that to Pythagoras …

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Body dissected into two seeking third , image going to feed the imagination trying to link the two

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Removed for proprietary reasons.

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Oh my we’re going to Asia again, and all around me finances are breaking, demoted correspondingly to the less then altruistic impression perceived.

This image has been sorely broken by reality I’m afraid of what and by whom I’m not about to relate, but suffice to say, it much resembles the marriage of Figaro on a stage, at a time and place, when Vienna was the center of the universe.

But to keep readers entertained, shall escap(e)ade this hero’s journey by and by, therefore by now until the next chapter.

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https://youtu.be/1nRObrCLKNs?si=tY9wYE1bJLo4G0JM

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Nonononono, it may have been an error to connote with that opera. Confusion arose between The Marriage of Figaro with the Barber of Seville.

So dear one who happens to access this summer’s sojourn, a take from the other opera.

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https://youtu.be/TIePr1GW9wI?feature=shared

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Now there IS a counterpoint into this sadly mistaken trilogy:

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https://youtu.be/C_0053yzkOg?si=swUfWISH520JWBpw

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This is an impression of an impressive searc/need to place within brackets to connect the absurd comic effect (relief) with the urge to go beyond…

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And then beyond way beyond the triangulation-?-

()

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Here is something premordial , ( as far as it is concerning):

()

What?

()()

Clue: it is denoted to Bertran Russel

, meaning I’ve got a lot of fill in tests to do before doing an essay on it. Just flown by me this second past that’s all.

( the first one hasn’t passed yet)

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Le soleil brûle la peau mientras os pássaros cantam e a brisa sopra memories olvidadas. Los pensamientos se cruzan, entrelaçados como ríos que serpentean por la montaña, se perdem en l’espace entre un mot et otro, no hay fronteras. Il tempo corre e las palabras correm atrás, buscando significado, buscando lugar, buscando sentido. O sol também se põe, ilumina le ciel con colores que existen en todos los idiomas pero que sólo se sienten cuando o coração fala.

Una palabra em português provoca une réaction en español, un écho en français et una imagen en inglés. Il n’y a pas de règles, seulement le mouvement, o fluxo de ideias, el caos de la estructura que no existe. The mind shifts como o mar cuando cambia la maré e tudo parece fluir sem rumo, pourtant chaque phrase a une raison d’être. Talvez seja verdade que a linguagem não é apenas comunicação, sino música, ritmo, saudade y fuego dans une seule mélodie qui résonne partout, au-delà des mots.

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Who is this written for? If it’s for yourself, it’s excusable because a lot of ‘feelingfull’ writing looses in the translation and that goes for motherttounges as well, where a connect with the self is of primary significance.

If you feel ready to share, please translate for us.

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Leaving tonight to the far east. This will be the first leg of this uncertain journey.

Will develop some diary, inclusive with unsightful personal vignettes.

Let’s see how it goes.

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Back to Uuason city. Regular irregular chaos, stunning humid heat, and the sinking feeling when living with Starra here, circa 1912-1913, when she so bravely had a years’ part in the Bachelor’ Two years of Strasburg in Hollywood, so many remembrances with her until her brothers’ suicide, pre-planned, then her beau overdosed her with Fentanyl.

And back here , trying to erase it from the mind, but this place never changes.

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Wanna write wanna can’t stand not to ??
Why do people defecate? Maybe because some things, like truths and waste, can’t be held in forever.

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Pssss. Don’t knock it in the land of the rising sun, human waste (purified, and colored with dye) is prepared for hamburgers , for instance.

The way population is out producing food supply, who cares what the ingredients really are as long as the simulation meets certain standard criteria.

Be honest with your self.

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Sunday. The pitch of fever is high. Must write, write, ride it out. It’s beyond words this phenomenal love, the hate, that underlying unmeasurable suppression , like that force that animal instinct so admired in that early level conflated with childhood drams of colonial servitude

That what’s stake here, the paranoiac’s delightful connectedness of overcoming the heroic disdain. With which.

Do not try paternalists, to the versionbeteen role and sensibility,

Ha ha can that milk of human kindness be overcome,

Hope against hope for private journals.