Matthew Conrad

May 15, 1986 - Ostrowiec Świętokrzyski

50

there's nothing intelligent about this universe,
in that:
its absolutism is profound -
within the reference of discrimination -
it is... nondiscriminatory -
a bubonic plague will take both the rich
as it will take the poor...
and death? plateau veto...
or rather: you are not allowed
the gratification, you are not allowed
the benefit of not voting:
you're voting, one way or: there's no other...
by your "original sin": i.e. your mortality...
you are not allowed the status
of deserts, you are not allowed the status
of seas, you are not allowed the status
of mountains...
what has overcome you, dear god:
having crafted a perfect replica,
while the the same time...
giving trees and tortoises the added bonus
time? these organic creatures outlive us...
are we truly to haunt them, congregate
in their shadows come noon?
at least with the crows i imagine
the krähegottkopf -
disembodied phallus gravitating
toward a cunt and:
am i really the one sperm that strived
with audacity out off of the confines
a sort of harem that neither Solomon or 20 viagra
pills could help you with?
as perfect as we are...
what ages, to test the mortal strain
if not the tree or the tortoise...
paradoxes and Zeno aside...
Achilles did race the tortoise...
but behind the scenes? so did the tree...
increment of the temporal gratification...
lore ancient oak said...
i have run a thousand marathons by simply
standing still... in that?
i've seen the ones running come back
exhausted... and perish beneath my cast shadow...
upon the crisp-cut green of grass-ester perfumery...
a tortoise will live to 150...
a tree... 200+ even 300 years...
if not longer...
for a god, the price of creating a semblance
creature within a matrix of rigid rules
that no omni- prefix can break...
if darwinism is to dictate our further study of
history outside the realm of tabloid newspapers
and 24h news network reels?
well then... sahara was once a great
mountain range... every desert was,
once upon a time... a great mountain range...
if i am to stand outside of all time and space,
esp. the relativistic congregation of
time-space... i will make this absurd statements...
but death is a birth in that:
i can encompass a boxed-withina-a-box-in-a-box
"ad infinitum" conundrum...
ad infinitum per se... the Babushka Principle...
hefty words... but...
am i am naked in writing: will someone mind
the excess verbiage to be mistaken as a cravat?
or a bowler hat? or some khaki mustard trousers
matched with a warmed up chocolate shirt?
outside the confines of a denim / khaki uniform
master? hues become important...
i don't even know why english is a retired language
designated to allow a smooth journey for
tourists... it has no ethnic grounding...
just like the lingua franca...
this lingua ingelese is a barren wasteland of hyenas'
bragging orders... culture of capitulation...
the only "seemingly" surviving ethnicities...
ah wee īd (a small head) - tajik?!
no: d'ee'p... an ee'd...
evidently this sort of
pedantry is replica of an army uniform...
or a writer's cameo in a cinematic adaptation...
fervent expressions of actors digressing...
and by god not being my witness...
one can fathom with a grand clarity of joy...
morality... imagine yourself...
being aged 33... with the time...
between your being aged 21 through to 30...
lost in a psychosis...
oblivious to the outside world...
akin to that statement from Franz Kafka:
then i'll miss the thing i want,
by waiting for it...
and i waited... and waited...
but the "thing" i might "want" never came...
i never managed to excite the existence
of the sort of tribulations plaguing 20 year olds...
now aged 33... i am glad i won't have to...
i will not have to look back on anything...
i am immune to the sad nostalgia of 20-somethings...
i have a nostalgia rooted in childhood...
16 years and below... between 16 and 21?
shit merges...
of the past 12 years? i have kept
about 5 memories...
none are associated with bragging orders...
none are really: predictable or rather:
predicated on... the worthwile summary...
critique of pure reason... 3 years of the 12...
heidegger's being and time... 2 years of the 12...
these books really do fill up the time:
i.e. if you read them properly...
you will not be readily able to regurgitate their content
in a rubric: teaching manner...
mind you... i did read them in my native
tongue... and applied them to life...
rather than some mundane echo-chamber of:
what did i learn?! what did i learn?! what did i learn?!
that's personal...
but from the age of 21 through to 30...
nothing... "psychosis" -
and here's me living on the outskirts
of London, i should have worked some mediocre job...
fucked with foreign workers...
etc. etc.,
i guess i admired the monk's effort
at the recluse... and how much i thoroughly enjoyed it...
i even managed to jerk-off to the finite number
of gratification: there's no way you can become
abstinate without doing the rounds...
just like you can't lose weight by going to the gym...
you need the proper cardio: cycling and swimming...
no heavy lifting... same with celibacy...
you really have to exhaust the jai-jamaican jerk...
33 is the crux age...
trivial affairs take over...
well: "trivial" as in: pedantic...
spelling... punctuation...
the impetus and momentum
of youth comes and overshadows you...
and... i have no nostalgia...
i have nothing to miss about being in my early
20s, mid and late 20s...
i missed what a lot of people will be
reminiscent about...
in my mind as if it were my hands...
the boy, native born...
who moved from Poland aged 8...
was thrown into the deep end of an English
primary school with no knowledge of the language...
who learned it... who also learned to swim
by himself...
i am a man without a biological continuum...
but i am also a man with an ego as a foetus
in his mind...
and death is where i will deposit this
foetus via the universe's vulva...
i remember this child...
i am this child...
this is as close as i will ever get to standing
on the moon, or being pregnant -
either this, or forcing myself to ingest a tapeworm...
the early stages of my life...
memories from where i was 4...
1990 world cup...
obudz hrabinią!
well... yeah: i am pregnant...
with myself...
this is the closest you will ever see
a "cis-gender-normative" male come with
a fruition of this counter-stereotypical signifier:
equipped with a palette of metaphor...
i sacrificed the life of a 20 year old...
living on the outskirts of London,
uber-apps and tinder etc.,
just so he could remember the boy who
left Poland aged 8...
to be reunited with his father
who left for England when he was 4...
and who's mother came to take him after
she left when he was six, leaving him with a "brother"...
a doberman he named Axel...
raised by his grandparents...
who's own father was abandoned by
his parents and raised by his grandparents and uncle...
oh no... this is not a soppy story...
i like it... i really do...
since it's so fucking: un-spec-tacu-lar...
but from a 1st person perspective?
what isn't?
disease does not discriminate,
and death gives everyone the same vote...
regarding our "original" sin?
i once thought it was plagiarism...
now i'm thinking: god's regret at playing god...
creating a copy of himself...
within the confine of eternal rules...
that a copy couldn't resist from usurping
and... creating nothing more than
god's disillusionment; "original" sin...
to create both the eternal orbs -
the heavenly bodies...
but at the same time...
the most feeble of creatures...
whether man or worm...
who... overcame god's disillusioned melancholy...
with an irrational will of both striving
and that of strife - esp. one that came
from their own-self-doing...
a self to overcome god...
to overpower a god and his
mountain...
and his sea...
with... elohim!
petty nuances... cupcake politics...
the idiots' banquet of P.C.!
fucking etiquette...
please! give me the mountain!
i'm tired of being caged inside the pyramid scheme
of another man!
let me overcome the mountain with
my body... but never grant the perverse
gratification of some etiquette mogul who will teach me:
the fair ways of the high-minded and...
the mountain... every single time the mountain...
the mind should break in the mathematical medium...
not in the current medium of right-think,
wrong-think, group-think...
the mountain should break the body,
mathematics should break the mind...
but being broken on petty concerns -
is not worth the dignity of life -
one can only resort to dignify his life...
by concerning himself with how:
death will dignify his end.
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