Matthew Conrad

May 15, 1986 - Ostrowiec Świętokrzyski
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and this is england

i'm "almost" glad i'm leaving for a haitus,
apologies to the language,
but the heads behind it are sick...

i'm going to a place where people still
entice each other to stage
the most "mediocre" dialogues
of familiarity...

they will talk their familiar tongue
from their confines
of a familiar self to a familiar other...
small town psychology...
i don't even know how psychology
could exist with an orthodoxy
without the modern urban
lava lamp / squid / hive cobweb...

the small mentality will drive
any psychologist mad...
too many familiar people...
an environment, very different...

to:
i'm going to a place where people still
entice each other to stage
the most "mediocre" dialogues
of familiarity...

from:
i'm leaving a place where people
entite each other to stage
the most mediocre monologues of
their own vain-self-slain-familiar...
for the past year or so...
i just talked with: either (a) solipsists
or (b) aliens...

everyone is so strong in the west...
they can fake their idiosyncracy
for some time...
before... they just start to feel
uncomfortable...
with their own selves...

living in england is like living
on the moon sometimes...
you become "weird"...
simply because... everyone else
around you... is fucking weird...
imagine living in close proximity
to someone...
for over 15 years...
and the first time you "talk" with
your neighbour is...
over a petty quarrel...
hedgehod head in play...
hostile... hostile...

i'm oh so glad to travel away from
these anglo-saxon mongrel monsters...
i'm oh so glad to wake up...
in a land that states:
love your neighbour as you love yourself...
what? the non-existent smooch?
the fact that most english people
are oblivious to neighbours to begin with?

at least a neighbour that's invasive
i can call a neighbour...
common thread begs the following
analysis: i'm living next to a fucking
xenomorph!

wouldn't anyone care for a neighbour...
the sort of neighbour...
who would... test your barriers
of a "personal space"...
to the point where...
he'd check on you...

and not left... pristine and individualistic...
2 weeks / 2 months later /
15 year later...
you've died... the cats ate what
remained of you... the cats died...
and then... then! your "neighbour"
managed to entertain the "grief"
associated with... the final stages
of organic decomposition

by then your skeleton was
playing the xylophone of the ribcage...
common courtesy states:
knock on the door...
and ask: are you alright?
n'ah! n'aaaaah! call the cops first...
that's how weird england is
these days...
this land - once the pearl of envy...
is nothing of note worth
imitating / exporting...

perhaps, once, once upon a time...
i doubt this scenario
is much different in inner city
London...
will the English re-enter their
Eden of homogeneous pockets
of ethnicity...
and not further breed their
paranoia with their own kind?
ethnicity has long gone not been
part of this dynamic...
of a once great empire being...
turned from burning amber
into a choking charcoal.

perhaps up north... come yorkshire...
but even then...
not what i've heard.
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