السبت، 31 ديسمبر 2011

Mummy God

I got an airplane the other week...a kid with straight black hair, looked adn stared through the little windows, then he went flying, he ran through the alley arms stretched, through all the blue and white clouds. A TV  advert made me think, it showed all modern types of technology, run on a little engine, with fire and smoke, even a bill credit, thing...and a mobile...

I've tried to explain technology before to people in the past;

"well, they run on fire, they have cables, which spark, and it runs on fire, it's impossible to explain..they must be very clever..."

Some old woman said: "Then the buses, have chains that turn the axles..."

Michal thought at first that demons were flying all around the house, when she heard traffic...

--- I was thinking about a fly through Hell, when I said "Mummy God, ...I called Him, Mummy God...."

I was in front of the TV, when I heard:

"Who brought this boy here, and why is he calling my daughter Mummy God?..."

You should have shut up...but you felt happier, so you swined...

I sat in the dark in the rain, smoking and dreaming, the smoke turned silver and sparkly...and I listened, I listened to everything I had missed, everything concerning me...blues and golds, and yellows and greens, and purples...

I heard a boy who said:

"What is my Daddy's name??"

I was thinking aloud to myself:

"Mummy God?...why was I in hell?"


"Mummy God, Mummy God..."

I sent 10 angels and my grandmother...I watched the door...It was all very;



listen again.

"Are you Mummy God? I wanted to find you...My names is M. I am happy to be in God."

when he was younger I listened: He was a toddler, with women, he looked a little ZimZam, he said:

"We must Sing Him." I was in a delirium...Schmuel was by a mirror, copying my hand movements, I started this strange, duck hands whilst I'm talking, I talk out aloud now, in the mental patients house...he went to see my Dad, he was doing this strange stare eye thing...opening them wide, rolling them around...Dad couldn't see.

We got a smash of new soul colour, she was in the doorway dressed in dark green. She was me. So, I soared, I was so surprised, I replied, the colour of a neon green flew out of me into the roof...

I was singing him again and again on the Island I flew to. He was 90 % in thought. Annoyance was 45%. Hunger 75 %. We got on a bus to the capital and went round the island once, and stopped at the airport, I asked the dirver where we were going; "Yes, we go there, we got here..." We went round again, stoped at the airport again, went on the same bus, eventually arrived at the captial... I thought about him over a cappucino. A theory about why Moses saw the burning bush was on a little Tv in the corner. The scientists explained it by saying, often, there were seizures in the ground that exploded, and this covered the bush. Then after the coffee we walked back to the bus.

We sang on the way to the hotel, about Jesus in the tavern, it was like we were holding crucifixes in the air, well, when he was in the tavern, a man put a bag on the table, and emptied out lots of silver coins, Jesus told him to divide the money and who to give it to...His eyes would shine a bright Sky blue, but when he saw the money they turned a bright red...Thats all I remembered except that he often walked through the rehabilitation house walls, with a hood over him and those bright blue eyes...


ZimZam keeps them soul. Everyone looks at him and cries, because he is their Father King. The hijabs? Women where he is, look sin. He loves everyone that souls. You are his wiser dead...

You, must, sing Allah.

الاثنين، 26 ديسمبر 2011

The 31 Doors and How to Cope.

Parrallell Universes, multi-verses...i.e can a special event/action change time, yet remain static, thereby creating a secondary happening, according to force or choice...two parallel places, running on a single ribbon...

(nb. Time is Circular....) (Seed of Life) 8/9 circles, one in the centre, The Soul, the arms of life...time rolling over the next time, repeating yet ever-changing...rolling into the next circle,......" each circle creates a Flux..."

There were 31 Doors, after a Birth...the time from then to know, is just a long-line of events...many types of Doors have snuck into this time-line...i.e. You were born 1965, you live, you marry, you reach a certain age, all different, things, but there are portals entering into this time-line, at, first, it looks like nothing at all has happened to you even when these doors have been opened and someone new has stepped in...you didn't see him...

We know the History, of the Planet, we know there were Kings, then the sons of Kings...Great Fires, Plagues, the doors are secret, they didn't prevent these events...

The doors centred...

31 Doors since a birth...

You knew the past, yet you also changed the past...

Exactly this: You knew the story of the mouse, and the mouse wrote to you. The mouse created a fashion of thought, many years before you were even born...the mouse died, rich, and very famous...You find the story of the fashion of the mouse, and you decide to sign up for mouse classes in this specific fashion...you meet a mouse girl in mouse class...you marry the mouse...you pick a portal by some accident or purpose of thought. You go to the beginning of the mouse, you live with the mouse...you create the mouses first thoughts of the fashion...You have created the mouse, you have made what the mouse made for you...

Right, what I will do now is try to repeat the Voice, that told the 31 Doors. As I was confused by the mouse...

I snuck into Time. 

I picked a door called, "Satan at it's Height..." I was carrying a blood-present...

"Why can't you weep?" I said, I said that...

I am flee-ing, flee-ing!!!!
"Begin the Flight..." 

31 Doors.

Since a large event, 31 portals on Planet Earth have opened...I went through 4. The doors are sought by prayer and fear and death...A messiah door was the ww2...I fell through Heaven, and picked a messiah door, I wasn't the messiah I was falling from heaven...

When one opened, it was a (and know I quote the Voice) course there's someone here....door 1.

I picked where the Lord would Arrive.

I've been to a group of women, where I sat on my bed, and saw a huge boulder like a ball rolled across a doorway...I've seen, a snake and an instrument and felt deep evil...I've met men that look like rats mixed with humans, I've seen massive scaly reptilian flying spaceships...and bright blue fighter planes buzz around them...I've kissed a fishtank, and talked to a boy invisible in a wall...

"because you knew what would happen, you sang!"

I am fearing light. Your black is holier than the brightest star...

my name; daughter, is God. shit shit shit!!!

I want the 31 Door story please.

السبت، 3 ديسمبر 2011

Wear Black Forever

We took over the world last night, we were Hope and Peace...there were two of us, and circles of passengers, in the south face wall, where the door cut through...

Every wonder became spiritual in spaces of seconds into minutes...the course of the snood curved round a bare face...a door in twilight, a new sight flying dark grey-blue like the depths of a cold sea...exact like the colour mix on my palette...then the scab of brown-red, discarded soul...

music repeats itself, like prayer was supposed to do, but then you discovered extra light...extra things for life...prayer gets to be fun...


I knew the twilight was making a scene, for me to play the actor and the storyteller, I knew we were becoming ...the first...

I was making spirit, in a black coat, black trousers, a black square hat...she kept her face on the edge of the pillow, she whispered, what I didn't listen: It became Everything...she said...I....

"We are in charge now...." I declared.

"Don't worry!" Because we are Hope and Peace.

Because compasses pointed North...I went to the bed...In black dress, and knees, and walking from one space to the next space, preaching, preaching...

I got to my knees beside, the bed, in black trousers. "A black square hat!"

I put my face to the floor, a pillow talking...above me...There's quiet in this direction...

I sat on knees on bed, and my face on the pillow, and my arms, back behind flying in the air, like a crow, a crow-man, in black feathers...

I went to lock the door, still pillow, I bowed towards the door and the passengers...

"I am wearing a black hat! "

"We are becoming soulful, we are Muhammadan, We are Law, We will Soul You, We are Lover. We are married in Law...Go Now..."

I sat on my knees, by the pillow, I put my face to the floor...

"Leave me now, don't worry..."

"I can see I am going to a Lower World tonight, you are going higher, you must leave me, and then we're well....I don't mind...I love God..." and I waited, at the pillow, and bowed my face to the floor, and repeated myself...

"We are in Charge Now....We can Law men, We can Ride, We will Ride Him, we Are Love..."

I didn't hear her say one word, perhaps there wasn't even a Her there...I was going crazy again, I had promised no more joking, I laughed loud, , and my trainers were on the pillow, in her face... i knew it was another annoying schism, I rolled on the duvet, and kicked the trainers against, the wall, my hair turned short and black, my image became a man, I kicked at the grey wall, covered in Arabian graffiti, I joked...It died everything a little,

"He needed a good expensive pair of trainers...

"Benjamin!! Benjamin!! The little guy in Romeo and Juliet!!" Benjamin " THE ALI!!! !!!!!!!!!"

..quickly she smiled, and she left for the Higher Heaven...

I switched the light back on and left the room....

الجمعة، 25 نوفمبر 2011

To Zimzam

...hilarious war, silly war...
 nothing can be shown, nothing explained....

delirious war, idiot war...

flayers...Fating...Forgetting...a joke love...

"Blackest Angel, You are Fight. I fight Free. I don't want you to tell everyone we're Hate...."

Special Days. Unexplainable Days...

This Heathen sings, that I am the Black Dog-Boy Jibril...I am Take. I want you and I fell. White Fox? I can't find my Love, I've wept every single day. When I weep on pillow, you weep all day...My throat is numb, the headache cold, rare kisses, and no tongue or throat. Never Silence. I should Raise a type of Love, where ;

I am studying silently. I study you...When I smoke I study, when I walk I study, and I worry the study alot, 95% Fear...

I called her Shamsyee, and you let me toy, I toy with history, I toy with your beliefs, there's a mirror, in me and Rumi and Shamsiee, but I left you out of that, a terrible war between Love and Nothing, what I've broken, left you in rains and rains of words, and curse of ruins, becuase I'm soiled...Now she's Shamsi...

Insane insane, terrible fires, I bite Shamsee, while you roll the stone, I take her from place to place, and cut at you and cut away. And make you wait. 

And bite, then roll...

I have a fire in my belly.

"And I'm in the desert!! And I die under a fucking tree!!!"

I wanted to keep the fire for ever and ever...

Now we have a Holy Fire. 

And not a dream, and not a dream, or a fear...All become One. The Dream : Some little guy to love a little more...

And patience, and names and Holyier names, and types of feeding, and types of killing...

Lots of doors for us.

And Shaytan lies...and fearless fixtures, on your teeth and your cries, and your weeps, and it's Shamsi for ties, and bits of lover, so move over and you can watch, watch...and when you watch I can come back...

When I can develop wish or wash, "ZimZam." All the waiting was fun. 

And we are Liars; O Heaven, 

and watchers.

The witches.

I've forgotten again...

السبت، 29 أكتوبر 2011

The Letter

 Amon Duul II - ArchAngel Thunderbird

A panorama, an angel in holiest king, a white temper, a virgin queen, light like leaven, lemon queen.

A jewish holy, a white queen, serpent tables, just and fair, orange like queens, a virgin bite, light queen, purple bright.

السبت، 22 أكتوبر 2011


We lost you, we lost you. Why couldn't they quiet Soul? We lost you to Sheol. We saw...


My baby, my baby.

My Sire is dead.

We lost you, we lost you.

"How are you, Little Soul?"

Moses said: "I will fight and I will scorn, I know those men red, I will kill every Satan..."

We're singing People. King of Amorelia is weeping....Christ Girl...

"Why could we let them die?"

"We Love You."

السبت، 8 أكتوبر 2011

The Prayer 2

I have free lessons at the mosque, once a week...I've gone backwards with memorising surahs, as there a terrible uncleanliness in me, and it needs to stay away from the book...I picked up:

"Au'do Billah Himena Shatayni Ragheem..."

Quicker than even I thought I word (would), and I've been doing this for almost a year...

We sit in the deaf girls section, which is just on some odd landing around two flights of stairs and a ablution and toilet just opposite, where we all share various sizes of flip-flops...which always astonishes me...because my socks still get wet, and I wear sizes too big, and they're just there....and...when I went there to paint and draw the people in the place, I had to continually change my watercolour cup, and each time, a strange looking woman wearing glasses with giant lenses that make her eyes look huge, stops me, in arabic, and points to the flip-flops,


"Yeah, just a minute...yeah I've left my ribena in there..."

"Sister sister, blah blah blah..." pointing at the flip-flops...

When the Adhan begins at a specific time...before that prayer-call, my teacher thinks I'm not going to pray, because I sit silently holding the book on my knee, leaning against the wall, feet out, sighing, because she's going mental, beside me, clutching her head, and bowing up and down...there's a lot of psyching each other in this white-muslim-women happenings...so, I psyched I wouldn't prayer, and then...but this is the girl who says Allah will reward me, damn if I forget to say:

Sallaam Alai Ekom

When she goes to join the other women and a stand in line...

I get up, and put my hands on my knees, leaning forward, I watch them, from a little distance, and see my teacher turn dark green...

I sigh...

I stored up, about little more than 1095 days of prayer, which means, specifically, I pray in a chair, in a bed, round and round a garden, on the toilet....

I know there's a war, and I prayed Sanity....

If men and women in Arabia or anywhere else, have to be tortured and killed, then let them die quickly...there are other alternatives. Just a quick little heart-ache..."Cut into their heart and you have a quick death..."

The men torturing them:

"Let them know Hell, make them die..."

We sing:

"A-audo billah himena shatayni ragheem....."

We prostrate, we stand up...when we prostrate again, I cry out...


to the right of me, like a secret black door, a tiny white light, shines on and then off...

I look at the women in line, and wait to bow...

I get on the floor, and then stand up...

My right hand blazes with red flame, on and on, the fire flies through my hand, and disappears into the floor as I bow and  touch my hand to the floor again...

I was in delirium...

I wanted to let every muslim I knew what had happened...it got horrible, I kept repeating the same things, at once I expected them to see, without explaining...

These were important things for me to include before I finish the blog....

Sallam alai ekom

السبت، 10 سبتمبر 2011

The End of The Blog

I've found myself repeating my stories. And making things worse...

The Tale has been told.

This is the End of the Blog.

Please find some more stories:






الأحد، 28 أغسطس 2011

Lars and The Books

I like to think I have a Life...I have lost the best book; one I wrote in Rehab, I forget the year, but it was early summer, the garden was huge, with a smoking shed at the end, and a little fish pond...I was taking different types of drugs for different mental illnesses, and I added to those with some stuff magic, the round red pills got me hyper, and I added to that, wibbly woof, a Planet Jesus drug, and some little dark blue blocks called American LSD, or acid something...never touch the Dab-alien, a dark grey evil-looking powder...

So I began the first page of six hundred pages, tied together with string, which I got with the pads from a trip to the post office as I was collecting benefits there with the staff. 

The first page, was about Amorelia, it went from a description of a Choosh dog, which I first saw, in the corridor, my wife holding it's lead, it's an actual reptile shaped like a whippet, and very dangerous, that she had one on a lead, shocked me, that she lay on a bed, in the rehab conservatory (no sitting in the living room, no TV) like the image on my dark blue t-shirt, an image of a woman with long flowing hair, holding a sword, floating around her, shields wearing the Union Jack, faded through red, to orange to a green...the model....cool...it went from the description of the Choosh dog, to some kind of Burrough's like, ritual mourning...then, at the turn of page 2, became Jewish women, calling me as they were dying...where I guessed, in a camp somewhere in Germany...I would make a great journalist, I write as it happens, and I didn't give my self time to let in any type of emotion...

I was aware that lack of emotion was the most disgusting crime...the worse crime.

I wrote what she said when she got home, and carried on with my book.

There are two books, of around 300 pages each. The second book started with a story of two homosexual men, sitting in a garden, one of them spots a gang of gorillas, and chimps, and there are some sort of jokes in it, about invisible monkeys. But the second book got tainted...

I had extra books. I had a red thin hardback book, containing songs, the songs were in Punjabi, they were Holy Songs, for some reason I already knew that, Hindus Indian's, worship God by making and singing songs...It was a translation from the depths of the 1st book, and contained songs of Chariots, and Horses and Swords and Worship.

There were chapters, containing conversations with a Demon, whom I mistook for a girl, until I heard:

"Wear a Purple Bra...."

"You want me to wear a purple bra??? I'm writing the blood of David is dead....do you  really want me to get a bra???"

Lucky for me, the book was more important, than the serpent sex, so I stayed at the desk...I had a little room, with a chair and a desk, I stood a little out of the window, with a foot resting on the roof, perched on the window sill, at night, to smoke roll-ups from butts of roll ups, from the butts of roll ups...Once, when I crept out into the garden, late a tonight, I saw, a river full of reads, and the most frightening hairy orange arms, reaching into the water...a Neanderthal, I expected, or, "that thing...." and I dreamed about the little baby on the basket, floating along the hallway, on the end of my long robes...

I wrote down the lyrics of the songs PJ Harvey was working, in the dark,big scribbles and little mashed up words:

"The Wave Winds are Billowing!!!"

After her lyrics; I wrote about a man watching a concerto of violins...

Next thing I know, I'm on top of a cliff, with King Gray, in Emelbert, in the last war, watching for the dragons demons flying towards us...We are just about to die, and he tells me he loves me, I say I love you too, I die grotesquely, I am burnt to a crisp by a dragon flame...: "Only her feet left..."

Next, I'm wearing muffles over my ears, with a roll-up in my teeth, in the snow...I'm disguised as a boy, and I'm in a Russian Gulag in Siberia...I work there...And the only Russian I know is "Dah..." Then I'm found somewhere by Russian soldiers, discussing Americans, The Americans are God, are you God...are you good...don't care about Americans, no good...then a Jewish man, watching us says he will take me away and marry me, before anything bad happens....

Then the worse book. The second book, was becoming total Hell, not in the way I wrote it, but in what colours it made, and what;

Was being read between the lines....

Start on the story of the Choosh, and pick a special language, use the pen above the writing to pick up each word...and glowing, new, white words appear...

The first language I chose was Aramaic, because of Adalia. It involved the word Sedition, I didn't know what that word meant...Then Greek, then Chinese, some Japan...a lot of annoying Japan,:

I am a star! I drive the car!! I go far!!! The car is a star!!

And so on for some pages....

The Arabic was amazing to me. The Book and the Sword!! it began...The thief holds a dagger, he holds a book....

Kurt Cobain got involved

So many stories were coming to me, so quickly and with little of my own thought....

Molly and Ben and Eloise. Something off-key form the other books, a saga about three people in one couple, and that never stopped, I could always go back to the story of this threesome, if I was a little lost for words, of the naughty Ben who visits Priests, and then makes love on the beach, sings and defies, always wondering whether I am put-upon Eloise, if Polly is Molly...Molly is the bitch...Molly is out of order....

There was the Story of Our Little Sister...

"What shall we do for her??? Silver Palaces or Cedar???

WHAT do we do when she gets into the car, with the knife or the fork....

The book shone like the moonlight outside one night, and I heard many voices, women's voices,, I turned towards the window, still at the desk, as the words I had just written, actually danced in swirls in the air, and spelt;

I Love You...

"This is Elf Language!!!"

It was late so I went to sleep, I went to sleep...

Everything is dirty after that.

The second book, began to shine dull disgusting colours, a dead silver, a deep yellow, a black grey, a lime green, a dull red...the stories were all in the same vein, though I stayed away from translating this one....

I had no idea why this book had got so tainted, because I don't think I had shown it to anyone...

Anyway, that's all about why I'm trying to write in this blog, and rediscover some of the stories...

I'm tired...

السبت، 20 أغسطس 2011

The Lizard

the mental health care worker, also the one I see as the house-keeper said:

"You know what!!" Put her in the bloody temple, "Thou Who Doth Defy!!"

She has a man at home, who recently became obsessed, with "the devil, I'm getting sick of it, he is always watching the god-channel, and talking about the redemption, he wasn't like this when we first met, and it doesn't stop..."

I hate this woman so much, she used give me palpitations, if my room wasn't clean enough;

"Right, you know what!! You're going back to the hospital!!"

It was so terrifying I shut the door to her, and was in shock for some days, the days after forming a plan, hiding when she was around, and avoiding her presence as much as possible...

...it involved praying for my life.

One day, when she came to check up on me, I managed to get her to shake considerably, because she got an invisible powerful shock... so much so, that she jumped back as I opened the door and wailed "OHHH! OHHH!" As she had no idea how to stop it, she stood looking at her feet in front of my open door, crying "Oh! Oh!" she stood shaking extremely energetically in front my quickly closing door and exclaimed "OH! OH!"

"That's it! I'm putting you in the fire!!"

I wanted to put a form of ghost in front of the door every time she appeared, but no ghost, no angel, was willing to help...still I shook, and still now, I ask who is working what shift, when, so that I can erratically clean my room from time to time if it is her, as for the other times i don't know why I'm messy...as for her jokes, damnation. I find it incorrigible to hear English Jokes...

(note I've been reading Conan Doyle, The Lost World, and The Poison Belt, for the big words influence, in the last few posts, but here, on blogs I make no effort to actually do any kind of 'proper' writing...)

I shared some milk at the fridge with the: "Satan who hath Fire..."

The other man, referred to always as a boy, likes crying out ;

"JAH!! Selassie is the form of God himself!! JAH, Jah..."

As he also likes to talk about sex, some of his singular exclamations apart from things like ;

"Elephant Man!!" when he see's 'the Satan that has Fire';

or "Ronald McDonald!!", when he passes me, have become:

"Evil -Doer, Fornicator!"


The Blind Mice, and The Lizard With the Flaring Tongue

There was a little mouse, with a rather larger than normal head, zooming back and forth, out and behind a flower pot...I spoke to the mouse, and discussed the Emelbert-ian evolution of the Rat to the air around me.

"You Mouse, are a little thing waiting to bite me, your mind is gross, you have a terrible hair, you have dusty feet, you have a grotesque soul, bought from the enlightened...you pity me for being bought...you sail through blood drinking and delight in Hell...you were made. by...me."

The computer keeps turning itself off...back later.

EmelBert:  (Bert-meaning=Planet)

'The Happy People' were once grotesque in manner and function, their minds of a mixture of pharoahic laws and the basest Satanic influence from humans in the development of their thought, a small soul, open to anything that came through, their look was three feet tall, with variations, lime green mixed to lemon white, almost transparent skin, thin membranes, large heads containing considered, minute brains, long, forked tongues of various length, a voice hissing and curling, they developed a mind-voice, twinkling in a monotonous background sound of fuzz, tails or no tails, stumps of tails, tails of various shapes and length, writhing evil long tails...

The Happy People greeted the Emelbertians, the rat-people; in the first quarter of their human-like development, long after, their shapes and sizes had been almost fixed, at the stage of being introduced, to a soul...it was a dark shrine, under the ground in the giant nests, of branches and moss, they came from different planets, perhaps different galaxies, different universes, I can see the position of  these planets when I look up into the night sky. Planet Jesus glows dark blue, Emelbert is as lost as Hell, a star surrounded by a haloe of dull dead white, yellow, hot red, and deep black.

Yes, Emelbert is like Death in it's people's eyes, thick deep black un-seeing eyes, that hide where they look so it looks like they cant see anything, but they are able to see through the darkest places, they watch you with no emotion. Where the Happy People had become pharoahic, was a surprise. They had been thrown into the puddle, and left like that...tiny and many.

Someone had introduced the concept of a Temple, to both species. The men who did this were Earth-men. Inside the underground tunnel I could see, through a window in the wall of my room, the squat extremely hairy Rats, stood four feet tall, and fat, huge fat bellies, behind a table, they had a manner of all chattering and whining and screeching together when one of them started to talk, it was a language...it was a dead soul-less electronic-sounding speech.

What I assumed was Cups of blood, stood on the table, the rats beckoned the lizards; the Happy People. It was a ritual of welcome. It was a dead.

It was dead. Everyone of them had the aura, not of death,

but of dead.

My first idea, was to set fire to the whole place. Abominations, Evil Doers.

I had met the Emelberts before at a much higher level of evolution. King Gray said, something memorable: "We've been through some knocks, but hopefully, we're back to snogs..."

I am now going to investigate what was left out.

The Fire raged, then the poor things began to squeak.

Those eyes were like jumping black beads, trying to fight their way away from the rest of the face.. The Happy People came down the stairs. There was an aura of evil in the tunnel, as the window first opened.

Nothing has come here to explain.

الخميس، 11 أغسطس 2011

The Wedding

I'm actually excitedly waiting for my sketchbook to arrive from the back of a taxi, instead of spending much time on the computer, actually doing nothing, reading what i always read, and playing what I always play, the 'death' has lifted, and I've not so much noticed, but 'noted down' that I have a sort of small smile playing around my lips, I'm not hiding inside some tiny room waiting for the hell downstairs to leave...I like watching the rain through the doors, it isn't always weeping,  and I'm spinning on a new leather chair, sunshine has lost the fiery ball in the sky, and I don't boil over in what was said, and I don't get the piffs, and everything that shouldn't be said has remained silent...

 I have some kind of monster I'm trying to corrupt, in pen, in watercolour, in oil...to be part of a painting inspired by all the Turner's, and the Constables (Hadleigh Castle where I've been many times, though I've never seen it look so wild, as he cut through all the surrounding fields, to add in the Thames River, and now the ruin sits on regularly mowed lawns, this was painted around the time his wife died, and it is also wild, the colours are gloomy, and the clouds are thick and and dark, dirty and wild, and the Van Holst's (Goethe's Faust, the favourite one, sorry, Gerter, not, Go eff)...I like the depth of the green background that melts into the fairy's face...Turner paints the worse kind of figures, he has a mighty Hercules (I forget quite who) in the middle of a storm, waving two bendy sausage arms, with a fat blobby figure...all his figures are fat blobs, all I have to do is work out how to paint an immense amount of oil paint layers for the sky, and what detail to put into figures, and what damned historical type of story...I've been introduced to another German Royalty called Herkommer, which I must research for grandad...I've shown two friends, a picture I stood in once, Absalom's Tomb in the Kidron Valley, the goats have gone, I think the top has fallen off the tomb, and now it's surrounded by gravestones...I have to be a little more transfixed by the evil face of the Man Who Taught Blake How to Paint...best to avoid even looking at the thing...

 I'm drawing images; from images I see in shadows, in the worls of woodwork, in dirty splatters on walls, on myopic faraway details, on spillages, on messy paints on walls...and I keep finding monsters...a dog like dragon standing on a pig like beast...a 'sky monster' like a huge bat with scaly skin and many wings...I want the Constable clouds, and the Turner landscapes, cliffs in the corners...made up buildings, G. Moreau's figures...some 'fairy blobs with snaky bodies and human heads' which appeared on the dried milk running down my mirror...

Now I forget why I am smiling.

Perhaps I should write here what was said.

I hate to listen most times, and this time I'm being assured that not listening isn't all that bad. I've gone to them clearer and wiser. And this time I like hearing them, instead of the worrying them.

Well, I'm going to put a little sketch up here of my dog monster...

I heard don't worry about a thing, "You are welcome to Higher Heaven...." "You have Eternal Life..."

الأربعاء، 3 أغسطس 2011


I called God once. I went all the way through voices in Heaven. I've called quite a few times, I hear women, my friends, my family...all up in Heaven...most of the day, I'm in miracles, coloured lights, that are speech and each colour signifies emotion and soul...and usually it makes me weep, sometimes I'm well enough to talk to the kids, most times I use the madness to tell them I think I'm in Satan, then I shake and weep...but at the moment this:

I have a record I bought some years ago. It's heavy metal, 'an old school' type of record, songs about Thor, men with battle-axes going to war, wolves, mountains etc. Ozzy guests sings on one of the tracks.

I had completely forgotten that the first time I played this record, I had called God...I wanted something with a bite to play, my CD player hadn't been working well with any Cd's I put on, but this time, it managed to work, without showing up the error sign...I sat with my book on my knee, when track 6 lit up on the player, and stared at the red number,

Track 6 began as a garble, and continued un-intelligibly all the way through, it squeaked, it destroyed any type of instrument, it flashed forward, jumping, and squealing, faster, and faster, some of the noise went upwards, all of it scrambled, no vocals, like a strange language, I would have to think over and try to translate.

I guessed that it was God's speech, God, with a type of brain that can think at astonishing speeds, and that has thousands of thoughts at once...a type of computer mind, bringing out lists of numbers which make words, and control everything in the universe.

I'm sure, track 6 only does this on my copy of the record.

I jumped to the first thing, i could think of to hear, a deep wrathfull man's voice said:

"You will never become Law."

I quietly began to die a little, because I've entered Law, in Islam and in Jewish stuff, and that is mostly a correct observation, in that I don't effectually have any religious law...then I decided, No, this can't be God.

I went for a short walk, to buy soup and chocolate, the soup for my preparation for Ramadan which began August 1st...I listened to the record as I walked...there was another voice, it was a lighter girls' voice, it was sweeter, the words were sweeter, it was my 'japanese girl' the voice of my own personal Boddhisatva...I chose a woman's voice, because I would love that more than I could a wrathfull man...God is sweeter, than any type of Law, the Law is different, holier, wiser, easier...I repeated the sentences, one I remember only and most of was:

"Do not be afraid of going to War..."

I remember more, right now, and I will write them down:

"I will fight in soul, we will become One..."

and in the scramble of track 6:

"Sought me, Sought me, sought me...."


I began Ramadan in a flash, all alone, I looked up the date and saw a picture of soup and dates, I went out and bought them...I woke up a 5 in the morning August the 1st, and bowed, I said a little of Al-Ikhlas...I bowed again, wanting to talk, I saw dark green, black and blue, I left the room, without listening, I don't listen, and I'm rather sick of it, the plan had been to be completely alone, and think of nothing while I drank soup, also to taste dried dates which wasn't an appetising thought, I put three on my plate for afters, and nibbled through just one which eventually tasted quite nice...I tidied up half of my room, the next day and found my Salah, my four previous prayers were now; null and void. I washed my face and snorted water up my nose, which felt tickly and made me laugh...washed my arms, left the water dripping freely to dry...read through the complete ritual of prayer...it was a long list of long sayings to repeat in just one sitting...

I picked a corner of the room, and stood with my hands next to my ears, said:

"Allahu Akhbar!"

I said: Protect me from Satan!" ("I've been in a lot of Satan...")

Went through; Al Fatihah quietly, with hands over my belly, swore once, over a long list of other sayings...then stood bending over, unable to get my head to line up with my knees, then;  prostrated, looked at the book in my right hand, from the floor, and said:

"Sabhannna Rabbayil A'laa..." this is to be said three times, got confused about where to put my left foot (under the thigh) and realised I hadn't bowed on my toes...stood up again and did that properly...and then very quickly, gave up and turned round on the floor, to go back to the other book I was reading...

That was at Asr, and that was the only time I prayed that day, I was in a car at seven...and then grumpy at night-time...something about being at Mum's meant obeying mum's Law, especially, obeying, by eating duck and hoison pancakes at 8 o'clock, and chocolate at night...it's nearly Asr, again, and I don't want to, because I've kicked myself down again...despite deciding to actually go through my own Adhan...

Which I've let 'out of the bag' now...and maybe that's affecting something...

الأحد، 17 يوليو 2011

Father Muhammed

"Lu-weesa!! Lu-weesa!!" 

I was thrumming through the alley at the side of the world, dressed in blue side-long pearls, one Imam's hat atop the head, coloured in jewels, a black and a white, the trousers were cut above 'delicate' ankles, they were darkest blue (the Mothers) (note; I am 'quoting some-ones eyes'), the shirt was black, she wore jewel, eight white bangles, one crown, (silver with flourescent blue elfin inscription; "We have Love Forever) on the right hand third finger, a light in the left eye, a wink...she walked through a barren wasteland called the Temple of Love...

..."Lu-weesa, We Still ('stop it.'). We are going to fight! I am the Lord-King!!!"

Lars thought Stop. She didn't want to fight. She wanted to soul. Where she walked was glass, where He sat was like a glistening fool.

I called them because I went mad. I called every help.

The Rabbi's Epiphany:

الثلاثاء، 12 يوليو 2011

الاثنين، 11 يوليو 2011


I have a empty bottle of water, that I use as my 'Ramadan Box', I've started filling already, devising 60p to one pound each day. No fifty pences. For teh reason, that, even though they don't 'fit in the box', they are too special to actually give away. The two pence won't get in either, so I've decided on adding only one penny coins, and of course the twenty's that make up sixty pence. No pound coins, under the reason, that that is not change.

There's a gypsy van, behind the tree, at the back of the garden fence. And just one fish left in the pond.


what is it about this Turkish girl, with the classical Royal Ottoman face? , and what the Hell is going on with all the Love Lines around us?

She probably stares at me, because "I have an interesting face...yes, I'm Greek Cypriot...I say that because it's souls. " she probably stares because I'm nerd, no need to describe things, but as the jewish boy said, "French women are (generally) haiier..."

The Turks created a genocide.

"When I was at school, they were always calling me German..."

"I like your husband, is he pretty?"

"What if me, and my boyfriend adopted a chinese boy and made him wear pink? And turned him into a poof"


Then a few months later:

"Why did I see you have me?"

I lay down to rest, and  I see her hair flowing around me, a brief very clear vision of her hair swaying and her head turning.

"What about horse willies..." it drives me screaming nuts.........always bad talk around me.

"Is this sick, you're in my bed?"

"Men would always look at me, because I had big boobies..."

"What if I'm a lesbian??" she disgusts me with a few months after meeting.

The teacher is flirting with the jewish boy, because I dare. "I dare you to flirt." this was supposed to be:

"Becud she vants your Love."

I've avoided that Love, since the marriage in the metro station in Paris...I just go nuts, and stare away from her, I go nuts because I hate all my work, and she picks the crap. "I reckon, I reckon...for a very long time, she sounded like she was weeping when she spoke. Because even though I'm on the other side of the room, she is mind-reading me for an opinion. And I reply in an angry manner, it was going that, I either stayed silent or I got too angry. And then I would lauugh.

"Yes, it's long and it goes all over..."

"I'm dead, dead. Why did you do that?"

Why did I see her again, in bed, wearing slightly see-through traditional turkish pyjama trousers. Hareem trousers.
then she stares at me, whilst I'm consuming her home-made meat-balls.

We are walking down Brick Lane, I'm hopping beside her. She is talking about something I expect, burning gay-men, I found myself agreeing, and very elated that she agrees with me. I stay silent.

"Do you like Gay men, Lars?"

"No, I 'ate them..." ("NO, I ate em, I eat em, I  burn them.")

I'm abit high, being out and about, and I'm sure her Dad is Sultan. So I begin my silent chat.

("Its wonder! Blood of Sultan meets blood of an Anglo Saxon King!!")

We walk into the Beigel shop to pick up food for everyone...it's a shock, it's a filthy walled, place, a little cafe, grime all over the counter, run by a fat english man, and a short cockney blonde woman with thick arms..."Yes, I did find Noam Chomsky in your bedroom,

I cant remember why I was there...."

The fat woman starts laughing and pumping out her arms merrily, it reminds me of Mum drunk, with similar thick arms, kinda punching the air...so, I throw a joke;

"Agh hahha, found Noam Chomsky in your room we did!!" I get a tea, it's a special tea, 50p, with lots of sugar.

When we walk out, I spin round to look at her, I turn soul, I wave my arms in circles and do a little bow to the blood of Sultan, dressed in Islamic black, a black box hat on my head.

"Do you think it's Providence?"  I ask her?

She looks up at me briefly. ("You're keen....and you're pretty....") HASHEM! Found it!

"Maybe, I'm King Cnut blood, King C*(&*(! Grandad alright Grandad!! King Alfred!! King of England!!!" A week later I find out Grandad is very ill, gone blind, unable to swallow, with pains in his face, yet the entertainment for Grandad continues...He says: "Good Girl.."


الثلاثاء، 5 يوليو 2011


(Katie B-Broken Record)

Shonie exclaimed:

"You've met a Shit??? Are you bazza's?

Atashe sank everything.

"What??? WhattTTTTTTT?? WHAT is that THING!!!???? exclaimed Hannah, beginning to violently shake, as she pointed....

"It's me! Lars! I slept on the floor!!!"

"Lars!! I remember, you kept crying sin!! You said I was the wife of shit...You said, she's a baby, rest...." (I said, on the single one blanket bed in the hospital, "Oh shit....I have a wife!"...it translated; this wife is shit...)

"I said : " OH Shit!! You're beautiful!! ""

(Ya, shit...O, shit...an aswad red...a red light...Arabic book for beginnners three,; 'Oh (Ya) My Fatima, of Al Quds, Palestine.'))

Dad said:

"Hallo there, Lars!"


She couldn't look at Atashe, as she slid through the door, heavy head of hair, whiter than white. SWELL. It's tiring, being awake after today, and I'm terrified of bed, only because bed has become an event. I was terrified in the car, happy at the bus-stop, happy because Sultan and Mummy and I, greeted the german exchange kid at my sisters school, with "Ach vat, mein digger?" Then the teacher starts shaking in her chair, and 'i think she has heard a baddie.' I sent Sultan a white toy car, made from a car that passed the bus, just like a remote control car that he can control with his fingers, then I see my toddler levitate. Worries, and worry. Can they hear the baddies?? So, the event, has become swell, except that I'm terrified, today has been light, apart form two spriks of paranoia, once in the bowling alley, I ignore my other sister in her tight pants and her new all-over tan, which, well, actually looks like a real sun-kissed glow, not, orange, because each time she throws the ball, she does some kind of shaking butt thing with legs wide apart, and I think slightly of our childhood, with her mousy brown very curly curly hair...(and now I can hear demonic laughter)...and something about when she fell off a pony in the mountains in Wales, my pony was white, and she landed on her head, and I cried, and expertly turned the 'horses' head, and 'cantered' a little...that was 2 second recall...I have 50 second terrors and thoughts and talk, that seem longer, much days wasted, pasty and fatter in front of screens and fears...and once at Grandad's...ol' King of Bavaria, the paranoia's at Grandads...so I talk and talk to the little sister, try some polite german , questions, talk about my collection of german music, and about a gallery show, and where I got a list of german music at another gallery show, and dad's eyes going black twice, because I remember before I hit ten yrs old, in weeks it seemed like his hair had suddenly become tight brown curls...something about he works forever on money, and I wanted a pound coin for a guitar hero arcade game...and how he jumps me in the room, while I'm trying to put foundation and eye-liner on, without actually having had a shower or teeth wash, my hair not even reaching the bottom of my skull, but suddenly curlier, than it could ever have been, being dead straight, as a toddler, playing with toy cars, dead straight, lemon blonde hair, and what looks like giant black eyebrows on a baby, that picture always reminds me of when I swept wall-paper across the floor, of an Iranian Jews house, and the ducks walked by staring at the floor, and I'm sure I'm someone special at that moment, and Prokofiev, R and J, is on the radio, and she looks Chinese like in that photo. So, I spend an hour, or more, telling baby all about school, and leave the day brighter, because I didn't see her when she was a kid...

Shonie is tire me...The thing is; When Dad walked in behind the open, door, which gets stuck on the carpet, I jumped physically, but looked and saw no fear, like when an electrician in the house made me jump at the bottom of the stairs and actually scream, because, his, face was fat and round and covered in dark red and yellow...when I looked at Dad , he shone gold, and I said; "Nay a demon, but an elohim..." then I had to go through, Why is he Elohim?" I tell people I tell strangers, through the doors.

الأربعاء، 29 يونيو 2011

The Raeffitti

The Raeffitti are wise enough to weep on buses. The boys wear black beard and suits, the women, long black hair and long black skirts.
Becoming Sire is mine
Birches  You have a Heaven Light, Why will I cry?
I know now.
I will Burn Fire.

الجمعة، 24 يونيو 2011

Amorelian History, Planet Jesus

For New Readers:

this is a brief history of a planet our Universe called Planet Jesus. This is not fictional, it is a real live place, beginning life, when Lars met Jesus in a rehabilitation house, he time-travelled, he saw parts of Jesus' life, he talked to him in the walls, he was there when Jesus died, Jesus died near evening, in the summer, in a small conservatory in England...Lars went into the garden and sang. It was dark outside by the little pond. Lars turned gold, his hair sweeping the floor, he stared up at the sky, and saw the blink of a star, God awoke, and blinked his eyes, he gave the star Life;

Planet Jesus has people just like humans. And a few Tribes, here is the brief history of Amorelia:


the Choosh, is a reptilian dog, shaped like a whippet, lethal.

Av 1: (After Vater)

Jesus Arrives, his name is Lars Shalom. He looks odd like Fire. His name is Sacred. He blue-lights Lover. He brought Delv Fire! When he spoke, we were Choir! He turned at the door, and flow...he rived Alber, he congratulated Heaven, he began singing: "I am here, I am Jesus."

Now. We are Over. It is Year 928 a.v.

95th Avah.

928 A.V: The Raeffitti Tribe die. Everything skilled. The reason is Hatred; "If Mother is Hell, Die!!"


-King Ows/Aus

-Queen Avah, marries Princess Louise of Raeffetta.

-King Louise, Father is, Queen Avah.

Prince Skalls. blood of Queen Avah, Princess Louisa.
-King Ama. His Children: Prince Skales. Prince Aber, Princess Redeem, Prince Ama.

The next 5 Kings.

Princess Louisa marries Sergeant Amethra. Two children.

-King Arthur. Children: Two Princesses.

-Queen Atel.

Marries Prince Jesus of Amalia Atine.

-King Eselvar.

-Queen Louise.


-King Ouisa, and Queen Lafti   (the UFO appearances over America)


Flora and Fauna:

The Gripe: a miracle wonder! five stars on it's back, made of black fur, and tall back. Stars, white fur.

Flora: Tall like weeds, beautiful, the Star; shines, it has grievous petal and black scars, it is white with laden of blue skies.

The Sellar: An evil 'prick'. It roars, it has House, it eats people. It's black like hatred, it squeaks. Black and Tall.

The Esvar: A special cow. It has hooves, we eat it alot. It is yellow, and a little nerves. A dark red hair.

The Speaker: A twit, black and red. It is a call-bird. It has turned beak and white fires. head: black with stars.

Meesa: Another bird, yellow, (looks like a chicken, with frightened messy sharp looking feathers on each wing, bent over long neck. a black beak, quite thin and long, big eyes reptilian eyes, black and rimmed white. Yes I can see it...)


Amorelia is spartan. It is the Voice of Soul. It is Lord Amalia. Amalia is the first House, Amorelia is second, they are close by two Avence (province)...Amorelia wars like Heaven. It is to the South of two worlds. It is just north...north to the north pole? by a range of seven hundred turks, approx: ,similar in location to Earth's a place called the Mediterranean. We have two seas. We share Amalia with the princes.


to be continued,... special events of Planet Jesus...

الجمعة، 3 يونيو 2011

السبت، 28 مايو 2011


The aliens came back!

Small white UFO's twirling round and round in the sky...it was the Planet Jesus 'guys'...

Previously there had been a mission to land on Planet Earth, and construct a way of bringing World Peace. It was honestly a God Mission.

Of course, on the first landing I knew off, some time ago near Christmas, they called me personally from the skies...3 scout ships shot down over America, and a huge Convoy ship about to make a landing. Why they choose America, I don't know. The King and Queen of Amorelia were on the mother-ship. America went to war. As seen previously on here, there was no peace-talk, and America did not relent, they killed many of the aliens.

I threw God my hand.

White House, a fat-man in uniform:

"Obama, you little faggot!!, 107 of my men have just been found dead!!!!!"

The guy on the ship taking the calls, laughed, and threw his hands over his head...

"Lars!! We're here this time to be real!! The last voyage was many years ago...It was a 'pariah state', we reckoned 95% were fail. We can't turn back.


Well, not to discard linguistics. I'm a little sure 95 % means well (???)

Sometimes, it's hard to write down, what you dont actually know, hear or see. It's all from God. Sometimes I think runnign away with my own little thoughts might be a little more sensible, perhaps I can piece some nice poetics, all by myself. Lately, forming english sentences has been a struggle.

Anyway, it's exciting stuff, and I don't just mean the grammar.


What was happening on the UFO over Earth.

Men huffed, and burned.

It was spontaneous. (keep with me here, this is Amorelian language translated by God, into a jarred form of English. Which we call, 'Anglo'...)

"The Anglos are failing, death, death, death...."

"There is much to go..." said a quietly, surely spoken, man in charge (the King (?)):

 "I will present to them, Him. Let me be Him. Hashem, I go..."

Then he turned from the radio controller, in the main room, The King: dressed with a long necklace of dark purple stones, and a bright blue suit robe, (not unlike that colour on the Israeli flag, which I soon imgined to a lighter sky blue, not the blue that represents a silly, joking mind. The suit cut straight, but a little like a hippy's clothing...a kaftan??)

He turned away, hands clasped behind his back, and stared for a moment at the floor. He wanted to speak to America.


I imagine he used a hologram message...

What he did was; "Turn full Ship."

That mean't he was gonna fucking land.

At that moment I was singing. I was dancing in the hallway at the front door, of a house, practising some high-kicks.


"Brutal!" He began, and Loud..."I am King '----' (wow wow a strange form of my own name, named after me!!) he continued:

" Heavy...."

"You must have Faith. My Faith is Love." (drdrdr)

he whispered; "Be bunions is thud...."


"My Queen shall settle the matter...."

"Hallo. I am God, (NOBLE PROUD QUEEN! an old-time queen!!!) Lars thoughts) ...Become Heaven...."

The Americans burned.

It was Shaytan, they kept singing:

"Keep Hell!! Keep HELLL!! KEEP HELL!!!"


She died, and sang.

I was singing, at that moment I was eating dinner, at at table with mad men and women. It was the first clean dinner I had eaten with other men.I eman, I felt ! clean...


When they sang Peace, I giggled: "You are a manky man eating dinner near me!! I am KING!"

The convoy settled.

The King said:

"We go..."

الأحد، 15 مايو 2011


 I decided everything had gone wrong over the Eurovision contest.

I was sitting in the kitchen, I forget what happened but I started see-ing Mum in front of the TV, being slapped in the face, physically or in her spirit, being attacked. I walked into the toilet, and stood behind the shower door, in boxers and t-shirt, and began to pray.

I rocked, and every now and again, head-butted the shower door, I probably prayed a maximum of 7 minutes, I tried to call into Heaven (where I sleep)...when no-one replied I decided to. take. matters into. my .own hand.

I flew up into the Temple, deep black light (deep sorrow) flew against it's walls. The temple itself was in gold light. My hair turned dark brown (another type of sorrow, a why)...and I stared at nothing, but the walls I could see Mum through. I didn't want to cry.

I decided I had to chuck every man out of the Temple, because by rights they shouldnt be running a Holy Temple. Something is corrupt. I threw them down, and saw balls of light hurtling down to nowhere. By rights, I should enter the Temple, and the slapping would stop. There is a gruesome little charactureof a man in a fuzzy beard wearing a baker boy hat, exactly like my hat, exactly like The Fiddler's hat, exactly like King Gray and the Emelbert aliens, exactly like a war-time red jew, the type of jew I've seen in a film, one that pulls down Nazi posters, paints Communist insignia on walls and shoots Nazi soldiers in the stomach (called Men at Arms, or something, i forget). Just the hat. And we're calling we're Red.

I have to chuck them out, because my job is the Temple.

I discovered that last week, when I stood at the kitchen door at night, smoking and spoken Dhikr, and silent Dhikr. And I get a funny hat. I'm dressed in a suit-like robe of deep black and dark purple, and a long round silly hat on top of my head.

I've seen that hat.

It's the High priest's hat.

"What are you going to start doing?" I say, to myself.

"You are going to tell everyone God made you High Priest, and they are going to kill you and cry you are fool. And you are going to curse and keep talkign and kill them too..."

"You are going to do exactly what you always do. But what about what you wanted to do..."

I spy Mum, and the slapping stops. And so have the tears.

I chucked them out and it stopped. I told their wives, but I was too far going just to start laughing, and cussing them. I said, you better get them back, they aren't in Hell, "...exactly, but hopefully somewhere lower, I wouldn't want to wish them purgatory or Hell, and I'm the new High Prist." but they've gone.

"Because they are men, and thats not right for Temple. Everything is well, now, I think they may have brought something Evil."

"Mum is OK, because I took my intiative, and I bring saved..."

الثلاثاء، 3 مايو 2011

الخميس، 28 أبريل 2011







my eyes light back, i mean i go to weep, and they get larger, not bright, somehow bigger, and cleaner...
There's no news...no thoughts at all. No news. Bring the paint-brushes home, finish a picture. Marry, seater. a crown of wiry air, slight sweat, no smell. Lazy in work. Don't care about future, qualifications, just prepare a amount of books, to read in long future, when you will have nothing to do but sleep....somehow you will get back to a secure place, or get ill and old, and en up in a care-home, so amount types of books. And wait. OWen Jones and arabesques calling, abandoned places and skies. Palaces. 

The fight has finished, it left us winning without a whisper, we cried the light, and every-one rested....the rest was most in the heathens, but i rested, because living this easy, shouldn't shake up the days. The infidel was just discarded and forgotten, I wanted to fight, I fought everyone, then I called further and further, transgressing through images and figures, to reach a higher point, like a little star-cross, glowing red. It will take two weeks, two weeks to destroy heathen soul. So anyway, they got to sleep, but where they were sleeping was in the fires. Over.

I decided they had gone through a burnt day, and I stayed quiet.

I'm happy, even though there's no fair vengeance.

Just quiet.

الأحد، 3 أبريل 2011

The Evil

"Ok, I'll dig it...play on..."

Right, I have to explain, because it's urgent to soul, no-one seems to understand that, i just get screams:

Ooh, there ain't no other way, baby, I was born this way / Baby, I was born this way

Some UnHoly War;

I hated her songs, I hadn't even seen the videos, but it was hate...

It was a spell, when she became popular, that soul was being destroyed...popular with the kids, something forming, something forming in their light, that turned them a sickly grey, I saw it once, on the train...

So I let it play, I listened out the lyrics.

Then I got dizzy spells again, I got the same, feverish, fainting, I had got the week before, when Satan itself arrived. Supposition.



pyramid sing- radiohead

a white haired woman in arms.

"Soul, soul, let's kiss like they're dead, "

" wei vant to fight.
they're dead...!..."

I was see-ing the highest lights, I was kruerk von abad, I soared into hatred....think, think 'doing'.;

a jewish soul in a german bride, you are white heaven. That woman wanted God, and so did you and so, you were King.

  1. you thought you were time-travel, so you wanted to collect photos, clothing, trinckets...wicked, you went wicked, the photo, of you gasping, open mouth full of blood, in the arms of a weirdly and why, smiling woman, not lovingly holding you, but a little like she was showing her pet-dog, blood flowing down his face, holding him up to smile at the camera also, like smiling and exhibiting you for the camera, as though you were her happy-child, not a thin, choking, blood-covered victim, of a beating, of a beating for a photo collection.

And you wanted revenge, you wanted to make sure she was in hell, and then you saw her shake and gasp, and you wanted her out of hell, you died wickedly.

You said, let her sleep, go where-ever she is meant to go. just forget, but you were in shock, not in shock of the photo, which had to be looked at, intellectually, "that was hurting me, power, power to avenge..." You where in shock, of what was happening to her soul.

You said: "Have you got the photos? Throw everything there away now...."

Because before you wanted that collection, you thought of it alot, more than that, you wouldnt think of anything else, like Hero,like a spell of heights...

 just that weird uniform.

الأحد، 20 مارس 2011


the days, i forget...alot has happened, the sunny afternoon, the birds started talking to me, as i smoked on the patio...Ahmara's mummy, glad to see we're married?

"We're married? I am a girl! We are married, already!?"

It was just put, it was just her, flying to my part of the house, she was no more than ignored...I wanted to teach English. So, anyway, Nan told the typical, when she was  a baby, and then how Afghanistan fell, she said it fell in soul, wehat she actually said; it was when jew's cried them to soul, so that; "And we all, fell...."

So, i spent the day, reading a hard book, a hard book about Afghanistan, a very horrible story...it wasn't the book that made me appear, someone made me think it was time to give a little more soul, to the guys crying, strange english; "It contains nuts." in an east london accent.

She didnt get as much chance to wash as me.

Was wasnt I hearing?

I began this strange, 'you touch me, i catch a disease.' So, desevrdly when I jumped oput of my bed to meet dad downstairs, and put a few things in my holdall bag, with a large rip at the bottom, 15 yrs old that bag. I felt ill. The staff-woman, who had really begun to piss me off, because she never stopped talkign and had lately taken to arguing with me, forced warm tap water on me, i sipped it a little...Cried she was a bitch in the car,a s my whole body, felt faint, weak, and very hot, with bits of puke promising to show up. So, what i've been delibrating that I wont die, well, holy. I will screaming bitch like in the car. Cancerous lungs. Cigarettes. Tune yourself, to paintings, drawing, reading....I started a few pages of sketches, in pencil and paint, quite a nice style as well, drawing in the dark under lamp-light, just shading, where the shadows fell on my face, adn leaving out detaisl, but the dark parts showed, chins, noses etc, then i painted some more, attempting to re-create the pencil drawings, and then hung on that book.

I didn't blame her for the disease, just said it too many times. I listened to her mum weeping, had to show I was listening by laughing.

"I caught two sentences, ok, ok.... I'm surprised you are glad about this, quick...

The book, with the terrible stories on it, taught me about moslem marriages. The bride and groom sit together and hold mirrors, they are meant to look into each others mirrors, before that, in the engagement party they eat sweets...or was that Eid? Taught me some Afghan words.

The disease left.

Something else happened, at night-time, as i jumped back into bed with the book. I began with this, "I ahve light from Satan to make an alternative heaven, becasue I was too white, but still Satan...." Because for some reason, she had started crying out she had fall, and that was the night, I attempted to defeat the Taliban, by cutting a hole through each heart, but Allah, put the knife through hers, but why wasn't she in Heaven?? That is the thing that would make you very ill, if you thought you had cursed someone into falling out of Heaven, because of your own doings...very sick, in the mind.

Then in bed, I heard Shaytan, I heard it call out from under the floor, and i just sighed, I've heard it so many times. So, I said, "I am in Love. I want..." I wrote this to a class of arabic girls: I flew what was happening, because I was actually screaming for help ...and when I threw it completely into my soul, it screamed, I had given 'God-bed', and I worried, "When did I give Allah, bed? Did I go to Heaven?"

One of the girls, said in an Asian -East London accent...(which is a special accent, it's cool and sexy..she's the one who gives me laughs, because she pretends she is very stupid, to make up for my stupidity, and says things ; like; "What if you were dead, and you didn't even know?".)

"Shaytan said, she gave Allah, bed, and Allah said; "My Wife is King!!"...I thought I would DIE, if she was bonk...I screamed and thought, you are going to die!! Then God said, I love Jews."

The teacher wept; "Your wife is King!" a small voice, and a pretty voice.

"Man, It died, sick."

It died sick, because I threw its voice through my body, and it cried out I was Him. And then, it sort of collapsed into itself, and made a large noise like flatulence, and it burst and died. Everyone giggled. They were amazed that I called, and that, ..."...if you love Him you're lighter than Hate..."

I wasn't sure about writing this.



You ate, fruit bread, four slices after another with chocolate spread, a whole pack of jammy dodgers, at once, dipped in bad tea, cheap bags and not enough milk, follwed with a half eaten pack of prawn cocktail crisps. You hoped she wouldnt see, when you wandered down for a mint and chocolate mousse, and back for cuddles, rolling around telling her to leave , because I am back trying to  hide under the duvet with a chocolate easter egg.

You have to write something wise, because the last post, you forgot soul. In the last post, so this is about Afghanistan:

The photo of her was taken 25 years back, that means as she hit teens, i was still a baby, at that time she lived in a refugee camp.

The first time, you held her you carried mountains. My body felt like it was spinning, Nothing like that before, pyhsical force of flying round and round...I was holding mountains, they made a face like a king, a long, straight white nose, a black-straight haired beard, and hanging moustache.

you shouldnt listen to music, and you shouldnt eat.

I was holding mountains, i was lying under a mass of rock, holding it up with only my shoulders.

"It is 1432, in 1264, the heathen year, Nanny said, the heathen year, it was, a girl landed in Spain, an arabic girl, and met a hebrew boy, adn tehy flew away to the north, and they arrived in the Emerald Isle, which means it is green, like you...and so, that is nearly a thousand years ago, 1264, which is what year is that? some 800 years back, i work it out, i am in 2011...and mummys name is Danu, and there was a king, who married into greek, because the Aryan tribe travelled further and further north, you dont know arabs were in Ireland. And i see another nanny in my eyes, with long curly hair, run out of a building on fire, with a baby in her arms, becasue of the vikings, like germans, Vikings are big and blonde. And i saw this in Robin Hood, because I thought, I want to see Fael, which might be my dad's Irish name, we have all different names, so many names, and so I call grandad Fael, and he was a King of ancient Ireland, and watched this film, in the castle, a castle is like a palace, but it is fortified, and European building...wolf-hounds, i own those...so, i wanted to see what my ancestors look like, ..."

Black, Sell for eating food before someone like that...

Speaking Afghan or Farsi or whatever came quickly...she still wanted to learn English, but i didnt know where to start with showing her.

I covered her with my duvet, to keep her warm, but i dont think she wanted a duvet, and so I tried to pray at the same time, anything bad would just turn away and walk away, there should be lots of love.

The night before, I took a knife. If the knife went through her, thats can only be God. Imagine; I was trying to destroy a whole army, at once...

السبت، 12 مارس 2011


We drove across half the country in the darkness. I was in agnosing pain. I was already dead, when she screeched I was too much to order, "When are we going?" I sat on the stairs, and nearly cried, i was crying quietly: "I don't think I want to go now, I've changed y mind...". Djamphirs and Svetochas, Pashtuns and Hazaras (chinese looking Arabs, wives taken, villages burned), in Afghanistan:

"It is half-price!" said the refugee.

She had followed Mum to the shops.

We exchanged cigarettes. Lots of cigarettes.

We reached the city.

She had followed the mum, because her friend had these amazing bright green eyes, glowing from under her dark red, robes and scarf, on the cover of New International. That was some years ago now, I found the magazine in her kitchen.

We always exchanged cigarettes, because I hung on her cigarettes.

What the girls are doing now I don't know. They had even sat together calling out,

"It contaaaaaaiiiiiiis nuttttts!"

In my lower country accent.

Barbra Striesand

Gomez. She is the Gomez now, because she stared in a dream that created a Fear and Loathing dream. Hips on adrenal beds, and large black moustache, and Yoko frizz hair.

And a banal, steeeeeeelll way of mentioning my mental health.

I walked from the patio to the kitchen through the hall, to the coded and locked thick door to the office. I spun against the walls carrying a divine book, I was taller, I wore black suit, I wore a black fedora, I was still a girl, and I had long ringlets hanging over my ears, around me crowds of similar looking women danced, alot of Yoko frizz, mostly blacks, in long silver dresses and robes, up the stairs in crowds on the walls, spinning and singing.

We didnt go out, all sunday, I was mildly pissed, I had a lot of spots dug into little caverns on my cheeks, the spit from my bed covers I forget to wash, lots of times I wasnt even brushing my teeth, but my lips were especially bigger and redder, perhaps they were after taking a round of Gingko Bilboa for a whole week. I spent the weekends, in minds, different kinds of minds. When it was sure we werent even going to leave the house to watch the city on Sunday...I cooled. I got cooler and cooler and I cuddled the cats, and I actually thought, In between the sudden joy, I stuck on some films.

I watched the Bogart film together, half sleeping on the little sofa, and then, when alone,  I stuck on Clerks...

It was hideously stupid.

It had always been my favourite film, I would say.

The jokes were disgusting and disgusting, but then I remembered the first time was when I had seen it was in a haze of cannabis smoke, and so it was my favourite film. I killed her there, because she was on the computer, adn I said: I attempted sick, because I was still sick, but spring was glancing the air, and I could still kiss...and I was getting bluer, I was turning light sky blue!!!!!!!! When I think, I can time my laughter to the conversation around me or to the radio, because then they dont ask me why I am laughing.


"Boids," she said, with a little kiss, leaning against a fence in the dark, perhaps a huge tent overhead. I'm not sure what she was doing exactly then, probably looking at a nice boy...

Organic milk, and sweetness.

Until I went out into the garden after watching Revenger's Tragedy (shakespearian talk, a play by ???)...lots of 'gay' brothers all trying to kill each other, some nice silk jackets...

"Friend...just told me, you are finding it hard to concentrate..." IN that fat-white-woman-pyschiatrist up the street-cow, accent, that keeps appearing to 'wise' me, in her speech, every fucking time....Somehow I decided Grandad had done this, long-distacne to kill me, and he was still finding prostitutes....somewhere in purgatory...it had to be someone with a bit of magic, I decided it was Grandad, 95 yrs old, nearly blind, and alone for some of the time in a flat, you have to walk upstairs to get into, where Nanny died...Nanny who was the one who would, get me to help her, make my own bed...

Inner scream..."I'm not even speaking to her, and she's on facebook..."

When it got close to pub-time, I had died in bed upstairs, I was suddenly too tired, and I was prepared to sleep in teh house why they were gone. I got up, and we all walked there.

When we got to the back entrance of the pub which was at the top of the road on the corner, we heard screaming, I spotted a black coat, on the pavement some steps ahead...a beautiful woman in high heels, and very short skirt, was punching the Pub's back-gate with her fists, stepping backwards, screaming loudly, and then slipping into a western accent when I 'observed that she didnt have an accent, use an accent...

Then she began bashing the wooden gate with her skull. That woman who can headbutt, started to stumble towards me, past the open boot of her car, as I quickly and slowly walked over  to the other side of the road, to cut her at the pavement and get away...She looked at me for a second and ruffled up her hair, with a dreamy blind smile...When I said, No, she turned and stumbled back towards the wooden gate. We got in the pub. Friend, had attracted very fat men with glasses at the next table.

"Are they pids?? These men are perverts, you can see this, they look normal, but what are they ???"

Then I noticed how gorgeous she was, a true blonde, straight bob, and big funny goggle eyes, and a clean clear white face, she's  a vegetarian, even straight for the organic milk, which I was ordered by the fat-woman not to touch...

"What am I then to this family??" My first show of desperation...

We walked home, fuck, I dont know where we walked, because I was Cola, and then friend had bought me a pint, which I drank so quick because I was cold and tired. When we somehow gathered , oh no, because someone had to find that woman in the streets make-up which they were bending over and staring at in the dark, and I heard; sick; a discussion about how they were gonnna say i had gone nuts again, etc, very intelligent evil talk, so I staggerd back tot he road, no-one could pronounced. It was the night before, I forgot the whole day, blood...I made a magical thing, when I passed my hand over my womb,a dn

transported an egg to any belly I wanted so I transported this egg in the street, adn got happy , grabbed a waist...

We stoppped at a stamp=collecters mall. I bought Republic of Iraq, stamps...I walked ahead, and turned, danced backwards clicked my fingers. In sleep I came back put the hand on the belly, and zapped away the egg...

She was still leanign against a pole in the tent, staring and smiling tiny:

"I vant to put."

She bended in bed and cried; "Black bitch~! Black bitch!"

Then She said: "I vant."

الجمعة، 4 مارس 2011


write jewish soul

she is like light. she gives me depression, highs, and shaking screaming, bothers, heated necks and buzzing brains. death. then, at those moments, i dont know whats happened. and I dont know what happens when i'm soothed. It's not drugs, that i think are making

me sick.. And then i saw it happen. So, it was saying, "I love thee..." Even if the lover isn't in the room, even very far away.

Someone prayed the damned Hell, into something resembling sweetness, i think there is a rule, somewhere that says dont pray for the damned. But we pray, them short, and we pray them lazy. We have to keep them resembling a bit of light, to save others.

She came back, on the dya the other one came back...

Elton John.

"How many people did you call to God here?" Dangerous,

"How many converted?"

There's some problems in this battle. Like having a sense....of hearing. Something enormously yellow and yellow ochre, flew over the bedroom ceiling.

I adjusted to Spirit, when I feel sick, I wave a hand over my head and say Kosher!

"It works it works! I feel well!"

We complained. Someone let in an evil day-sleeper. I am intent on killing again. I clap my hands. I clap- like thunder, spark my hands,d raw a melting burnign crucifx into my hands, and BAM!!!!!! every evil man is dead.

I just rest. Something fell out of our bed, It was a tiny creamy white bald man with a wrinkly face.

Sorry, but it was Elton John a homosexual. It turned, that she had called him, about God, and about being a Queen for God. He heard her, he cling onto her soul, and I am crying out: Bad Hashem, Bad Hashem to our souls!!

It was funny he said something freaky, but he had planted himself there for a long time... it he said was gross, but it was funny.

Then I can hear evil voices this time, on the radio I carry about the house...It's bad, I have t find God, and tell directly, I cant find anyone about this or we are dead. Clap hands.

Last night, i walked the street in the wind. The wind said: They are going to fight her, you must tell them no...

do it yourself, you do it. I'll do it once. No hope...A sister prayed the 'baddie'...I call out, to him, He says, I'm am shitting out of my ---- (butts) I see that I see yellow ochre...I see yellow ochre from your bottom, enough,......

These homosexuals probably think I am an Israeli man.


I am going to go through her small album today, 'uh huh her', because the guy in Stories they think is a 'sexy mouse'...well,huh.

I am going to win!

الأربعاء، 2 مارس 2011

Insane 3

i saw her. walking around that room is vices, you overcame a terrible hatred.The stars were singing, the family wept like king. like they wanted to know why.why tell them he is homosexual evil? why let him into heaven? where did he light, i came into heaven alone, and everyone suddenly suddenly got a passport, why cant you see what he called? The misery is his. So, so what i saw, a terrible light around his . bum. and then me, i'm trying to walk home through the streets in the dark, at 10 at night, somehow, light is calling someone to try to. especially.

castrate me.

castrate a woman, by cathching her on a fence. and saw that, i saw damnation, and i saw my own light when i crossed the light.

burgundy, and strawberry. 

strawberry; cool, liberal god.

burgundy: women who love women.

damn, walking around in damnation...

"HE calls a pid, to his bottom..."

hahha, i'm mad.

anyway, we're trying to right.

lots of girls dont even know what meant satan.

Insane 2

Serpents, the way i call for writing, mean't, from God, to 'have bed'. So, i joked and jumped about the bed.

I let every one of the words that didn't have time to form in my mind, out in the bed.

I couldnt save. He only said 

'have bed.'


coffee intake....three instant and two cappucinos four teas one cafe...usually, three to four mochas and cappucinos a day.


led to me rolling around the room. yoga positions. tai chi, very slow hand movements and balance of feet.


totally, madness, mad talk rolling in bed.

'serpents' odysseus


forgot my sandals out of the entrance of my room-door out to smoke. greek slippers. greek bed. hands together, elbows wide apart, a floating head left to right.

totally dead nuts, the toilet is locked up with thick tape across it...the inside of the toilet is still covered in a puddle of pissy water, because i opened, then put the tape back over. i didnt do htat last night, instead i crept in that corner, placing hands in patiular places of the walls, with silver lights coming from my eyes. Then i went into the hallway, and collasped in a weird dance by the door, the door covered in a foot of muck and tea stains.

I have never been this aware of going totally insane, and as impossible to prevent, so i just let the talk, i woke up this morning imaging the exact same, I cried out:

Pray me, cool!!!!!

The manager of the house repeated in cynical undertones, 'PRAY me. cool. 'tut''


i got the bus and came in to work. I know have a length of wood painted in turquoise and bits of silver, i'm trying to draw and colour in a tree with no leaves.

I hate the art, now.

I should, in such a angered way, draw lengths of scribbles in black and red, like a polish jew, like toploski, like auerbach. But i'm light. Light needs light. Always light. 

I need to know how to right.:

I will try to write last night: I ad to touch mummys foreheadin the cafe, adn tickle a bit of hair, to know she's alright, because, i went evil, over tajweed, i wne tso evil, i refused to sing, and threw somehting bad at mum and heard her crying in the corner, then when the HAfiz realised what was happenign she led the prayer in the next ayat of the surah, i went like a majestic, absolute refusal...evil and deadly refusal to save. Then hair -grabbing silence...then sweet, slow reading individually.

And when I got home, I finally died.

الاثنين، 28 فبراير 2011

The Artist

I lost what I was going  to say about the Artist.
I didn't thank.

Temple 2

there, dire, diabolical, a good wife for a jew. shame on the family.
let me go for a nutriton drink and a smoke,
 evil little men that kidnap blondes and put them in the back of the car.
I knew always, I was writing 'volk' lore. I knew it and no-one stopped it. Even the ones who knew, wouldn't have stopped it, they just sighed, while I hopped and rolled up and down the stairs, through the doors, round and round, hopping, stamping, sometimes marching, sometimes dancing, and always talking. The garden to the doors to the garden, just a little room of planks and a built open hut with a bench. I was the light part of the Reich part, deadly words. cynical jokes, desperation for ...acknowledgement.
put. put.
What happened?    
"It wasssssss a juck event!"
that thing was christ, that thing was? a serpent. It roars like Ice, it evolves in german...it solemned Love. It burst through FIRES!!!!!!!! FIRES!!!!!!!!!! "Volk this, volk that, always Christ."
The serpent!!!
Just expect to Death!
Just expect a song, somewhere in my bed, some new song, I knew all along....I wasn't surprised but I was getting a little disgusted. Didn't anyone want to save me?
juck, juck.
"Was it gorrrrrrrgeoussSSSSSSSSS??"
You are gross.
Angels eyes are silver.
Get sick of colour, get tired of colour.
My wife made Art, abd the Jap girl looked at her walls, and called it:
"A little plate."
It's impossible to read heathen hebrew minds, I had wonder why I was Japanese.
Japan eyes have discovered the colours of the New Temple. It's a stuck type of wonder, it's simple.
I played cards at table, and when the game was finished, I stood up,  I put my forehead to the table, said my thanks and walked away. I went out for sushi, in the dark, thinking about japanese minds and japanese girls, and geishas and fathers. There was one girl for me at the washign sink.
Nans arrived, to the Artist, and translated my steps.
I could read only japanese minds and though about japanese culture, and heard the yellow in the supermarket and supposed japanese whys.
Why, why were they killing the Artist dead? It was to me at the card-playing table, like a knife to the heart.

The Temple

just keep weeping...
lots of fight, lack of...awareness...why do you talk to them stupid, and then let soul cry you are them?
The Temple Mount Visit.
beds. Beds are good for thinking, and see-ing, and looking and staring;
When I went underground and prayered under the wall, I prayed everythign that could possibily be prayed for... running into important parts of my life-time. I said, I was getting Hate and that was a tiny bit lied, because I got that after.
IN bed, I saw what emerged from the rubble and mess of Soloman's Temple, a huge creamy white monster ahd awaken, I stated last night, this was of imperative importance to the Jews, and the rest of the Holy World. Some of them replied, it's just dyke...so:
I wanted to see another voice, Jah, Jehovah, Yahweh, the Great, the Good:
"This is the soul of a man-lord in a woman."
Someone painted a beard on this monster, that seemed to be trapped in my vision, as just waking up from a slumber:
"This woman is Holy Law."
Anyway, I got into a fight, and that was as far as my vision went...
(to be continued)

الخميس، 17 فبراير 2011

The Goyim

Men fighting me, disappeared, a door lit round their bodies, the door was neon blue, Emelbert's door is neon-blue.

So, they became the evil Goyim government. They developed a manner like rat-men. They had a similar look.

They were men that were sure it's Death. They were Hatred, they were a population of Hell.

They destroyed SOUL, and they bombed. The war was like this:

"You are No!"

"We are King!"

Emelbert was a stone-gray place, everywhere was rubble. Most of them ran and moved to the continent Spix. They also remnants of demons, witch-like 'rat-human monsters, cackling and screaming, red, yellow and black...

If i fought, ...I would only lead...i would be aware of Love... would i get a temper?

painting has gone. Love has arrived. 

I'm not working hard. I'm dropping that and then this, so it adds up to work...and now I've got a soul...it has Become.

The guys....that means the angels. The angels hear me scream like a Valkyrie, as I run up the stairs.

The last and the only first, to bring swords over Gomorrah, agreed with me and came back. I see an imge of a square circle of men in red and black, bring down each of their red swords together...to kill the English men. The news is; I speak Angel-language. I'm a High Angel and not a Dead.

I'm back to kisses. I remembered how to kiss....

الثلاثاء، 15 فبراير 2011

How they appeared.

I made the dabaliens.

I made the dabaliens (the Vors-Hag), when I was alone, in a dining room...lots of things happened in this dining-room, where the table and the chairs were a drak colour, and there was a print of a painting of a large red-haired women in blue with blue wings, and blue winged cherubs. It was where I made a model airplane, where I had a fit in the corner of the room as many women all dressed in black ran through to pick me up, it was where i met the lawyer, where i wrote a chapter of my book, where i set the lion out, to run through the hallways.

I made them by thinking of a monster. The monster was reptilian, 12 foot tall. It had a mind, but I had decided it had no soul, so the made was carnal colours, and thick-set. It learnt KILL. It's first word was kill, it stared, then more of them appeared. I said:

"You have no soul, but a mind...I don't want you...go..."

I drove a space-ship in the living-room. I sat on the sofa (which we were forbidden to do) and I saw space in front of my eyes....I saw a huge slow-moving ship, and many smaller rounder bright silver and blue fighter planes.

Previously; in the mental-hospital ward, I first heard them. They made an announcement on the TV. They had monster voices, they said they would destroy the man-dead, and tehy were watching the Planet (Earth) from above. Someone had seen them also, and he began to 'thrill' their minds. Kill and thrill. Which thrill.

I ahd fire-power, I sent fireballs and rockets through hte ships, I could see the reptile soldiers.

I was smoking alot.

I got an idea.

Everytime, the whole of Britain, lit up a cigarette, magic would explode the Dabaliens brains...and to know they had died, I would hear them exclaim:

"With that, I'm dead!"

This drove many smokers insnae, because they would hear that, everytime they puffed on smoke.

I got a day at home, in my carpetless flat, with a table one chair, and a mattress on the floor, adn also a radio....I cant remember how, I had already killed Satan...I decided to read through Iliad, by Homer...

I heard a woman in the wall.  I talked to it, damn I probably flirted with it, I was probably going to have sex, and I only  realised she was the Dabalien Queen, when I read my friends father's name at the front of the book, and it said:

"What mean't that?"

I chopped off it's legs.

They landed on Planet Jesus.

الأحد، 30 يناير 2011

The Adam'a

the jewish aliens, 1935.

The Adam'a is a jewish sect , on Planet Amer, also found in Jesus...

They wear black matador hats, stripy jumpers, blue, white, grey and black, (a mixture) then I come in with black and neon pink tzallit, back in...only I am allowed to wear bright colours, specifically because i invented that though and they said "Fine, do that....I don't like pink..." everyone wants rules.

Heaven is IN...it's inside...

Levels, smevels....they say there are levels of Heaven. So, I think;, it's : dimensions...

It's safer to hide something inside. So He did that with Heaven, caught in a twinkle in the eye. Going inside yourself, rather than walking through a door, rising a soul from your body in death, so everyone gasps, and trembles while they watch a golden soul, shaped like a brick (Mum says; "It's shaped like a Weetabix..") float upwards into the sky.  but, they do more than, tremble and gasp...they fuck you up...I don't trust to have anyone look at my soul, they might shove me an opinion, go nuts and grab at me, and shove me down the cellar. Anyway we're safe, because souls are so maginifencentally light and powerful, they can get home. ..

Going into sleep, regular sleep. What if I forget to pray before sleep? I did never think of that. I just sleep. Because that was, right, "You were right about that, I did never think...but, I won't do it..." Thats called Heathen...but, all day, I'm talking and fighting and thinking, and praying...and telling. Telling, when I sin, because the regular Heathen world, has become more dangerous than I thought...dangerous to be around teenagers, dangerous under the sun, dangers in the TV...it's a mass red arising ...it's got sicker...perhaps I talked about them and had some of them shot down...sometimes I get sooooooooo depressed about old aquaintances that still go out, clubbing and drinking, because I don't do that anymore, I'm so glad not to be doing that, but then I get depressed, then I remember, 20/21, and I was massively depressed to be sitting on a club stool chain-smoking, once a week, staring intently at the dance floor, actually thinking about God, and a big black, that arrived a little later, but turn an intense blue.. I can't remember what, the thoughts were, some comparision about 'moshing' being similar' to 'prostrating in prayer'. Some obsessive want to see a girl...obsessively she had a type of colour, a type of hair-style, a type of meek...I look like I stay at home at weekends...and I'm just hiding from the reds and I'm also married with children...(not, to be confused with 'jewish red'...which is a type of hero of the war-time era')

OK, this is stupid, I'm trying to grab some theory on dimensions, inner worlds, and have just written bad rate jokes, thank you Martians.