22.4.17






                                          the sun was so bright entering the room through the doublepane windows that he didnt know if he struck a flame on the matchstick  except for it diminishing blackening down towards his fingertips
           wood wouldnt go black an shrivel unless it was burning
so he tipped the end of his cigar into the transparent fire above the matchs curling blackness and watched with delight as the end began to burn a gray ash inspired

he puffed and xhaled smoke

despite all appearances    the match burned    his cigar lit 
                                                 obeah? ha  the odd shit that he read  it was the Jamaican counterpart of Haitian voodoo

hed had several Irish whiskeys  but he wasnt a lightweight

he wondered
he tried to reason why his visuals suggested other thanotherwise

he laughed  Mayhaps a dose of augmented reality? Who was he to push back against thatHA!    he might be who exactly should push backhed watched natural women turn to unnatural ways corrosive plastic surgery an augment themselves
          hed be a fool if he didnt recognise augmented reality was here to stay  and if ones life bobbed in the waves of its falsity he wasnt one to inhibit or instruct them -- let them have their adulterations – their xrated ways – their tatstheir hormoanstheir artificial titstheir implants an plastic surgeries   their plastic lives

they were welcome to it as he was to his refusal

to each his her own
                even their latexed sex partners
if it made you happy and didnt hurt anyone who didnt want to be hurt: “So it goes”

as long as their shit stayed away from him



a bleached blonde man fucked out of his gourd mumbled suspiciously  Whars yer tats man

he thought of the Jewish merchants in Skokie Illinois he bought things fromthose survivors of Polish concentration camps(no matter how they tried to distance themselves from the butchery)  he thought of the lampshade skins Ilse Koch the sadistic though she practised safely behind Germans lines at Buchenwald
her fetish 

their fetishes

have at it

art is in the eye of the beholder

but by his reckoning she was a cunt

mayhaps she was simply before her time

history is a circle

Americans have yet to grasp that

they seem to have no sense of historyrelentlessly dogging the next thing as if it was truly the next thing  not reoccurring
have at it


he may be an outliercontent to go to hell before hed be tatted


he didnt have a tribe


but neither would he belong to a tribe that would have him



1857,  Thursday,  20  4. 17(4/20)
 1558,  Saturday,  22  4. 17
1369 days remaining or fewer

Talking Heads  Take Me to the River  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ar2VHW1i2w
 

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