الخميس، 27 مارس 2014

PLEASE please reply!

I went to Brick Lane, this morning, I found it after eating a Turkey and Cranberry sandwich, I sat on the pavement and chewed it groaning...

I have a problem with anything that tastes different, anything spicy or extra sweet, in fact, anything that tastes of something...I gave myself up to eating it, but I had to store the second piece, to have with cappucino, with enough sugar and milk to take the taste away....

Dammit the tea I got later, was Earl Grey!! I had to stave that taste off with two cigarettes in succession, and then I drained the whole cup in one...I was in a 'cool' cafe DAMMIT! I hate anything cool!! I luv it, I lovvve feeling cool, and looking in mirrors more than at women. Bite, bite any women.

Any pretty girls, any gay male couples, anything like your clink clink easy listening dub house chic crap playing in the background, your flyers full of whack whack, white bands with a loser fat middle-aged bass player, in a beret...your damn well-applied graffitti 'paintings' in gallery spaces, your smelly gallery smell, of gay mens feet...the £800 priced pencil drawing copy of a photo next to each other, of distorted unrealistic, 'hobos'...

the big, vintage shops, of over-priced mod military jackets in grey, with BRIGHT YELLOW Hemlines and edging, HSITIT next to cheap crap Pakistani shops selling Leather, things...over-priced Internet Cafes...queers carrying bags of sainsburys shopping into their shared flats together...art school types, art school MIDDLE CLASS DAmit!!


I got one one pound book, called Qajar Paintings, that is, DAMMIT, a book full of lovers and dancers, all

looking exactly the same.

Weaing huge birdlike monobrows, a little bit of hair in front of the ears (peculiar to Persians) that curls upwards and long..."Mannie, Mannie, thats mannie...that one her, oh look this couple kissing look the same...me..."

chubby faced puggy black-mono-browed, upper-class freaks...

In the cool caef, which was half, outside?? in a car parking street, sellign beer from fridges at a stall, and upstairs, all in the dark, long leather sofas, and pillows on a bench rolling round a pillar, i dreamt about Persian Royals, I will PAINT, myself in my bandana holding a cigarette, in the manner of Persian Royals...
I storm powered someone I wanted dead. It didn't happen.
I called Allah again.
DICKS, royal DICKS...
He got a divorce and a death at the same time....
DAMIT!! I'm really too...any...
I nearly cried.
I dont know whats next, its not a cool ride. Its full of 'hessians' expecting a ride. Its the death of soul. No-one will suceed. I'm pausing this computer and going out for a cigarette. I'm going to bread, one iced bun, yum. DICKS.

The Reason For Death.

The place broke, Raeffetta, Amorelia...they disgusted Kings by singing red. My extra definition of red, is that way of making a sickening joke, that way of blatantly being sick, it's a teenage and often male disease, a little differ to jewish red, the Emelbert red. The damn Hell-Fire Holy,  red, that sparks from your eyes and blazes through all the doors, destroys the demons... lots of different reds, a crimson red, a dull red, the Holy bright red, even the strawberry red, that soul colour of cool thoughts, that works through all the Reds, and cools the Fire. The burgundy is a little red, women love women. The brown red of the Earth, the Colour of the Earth, poor little Louis buried in the earth. The red in the deep purple. The red against black. The red shoes. Red letters. Red hearts, blood. Single Mothers. single mothers, oh well.

The Raeffi were 'took'.

Taken by evil, possessed by demons??

I don't think even communists could survive the new Red. The new Red is especially British. The young girls are red now. I think they caught it from men. I don't see where they think. It is classlessness defined as wit? Anyway this disease has been encountered throughout my travels. The best is, that, I'm a Dag. I try to red and they sigh and turn away. Or I go over red, and that's it. I'm being 'out-of-order', because usually I'm polite, and for me to say red, is to be going over the bar. If I'm 'out.of.order', to them I really mean it. That means I hate you. It's upsetting.

"You silly bitch! You said she was a Dog."

So, they know I mean it, I really don't. I can't class red, and that was the disease that infected me that day, because someone kept asking me 'what do you think of her' all day; the disease that day was: 'to repeat; what you know is 'out.of.order.'

F*** it. Back to the History of Planet Jesus:

People are psychotic, they go to War.

The Raeffi's were a 'People'. They were 'Charlatan' (oh my.) I was brought up to say 'Gosh' by dead people, the dead people I know do not swear...that was red...

that was a scaffing, heartless sentence, emotion is paramount to dead, so ignore me.

Who thought they 'was' the 'Best!' ?

Amorelia didn't need oil wells. They needed soul-less Hate. Everything was cosy, until a whole country got 'took'.

Who started the Took?

"If King Aus was King, we were spittle." That was the jist of the interview, it was the Opinion of A People.

I am really angry.

I have a startled blank dull feeling and a painful neck from reading hours of red. I am really angry, that they are wasting my time, they have friends!! they make this known. I am not mentioned. Then I read long tracts of 'why you people are special to me.' And I turn red. I get blocked into this tract, and think, now I don't want friends. Is this Autistic or Aspergers? I am full of blank questions, and that turns my friends red, I mean the ones that actually bother to meet me at weekends, and then when I do elaborate in conversation, I repeat the facts, and then afterwards I realise, description or emotions are needed. Or perhaps a red joke. Dammit! I'm glad, to be 'out of your life.' I have nothing and nobody expect dead friends, dead children, dead heroes for friends.

I get embarrassed. I don't want any more dead heroes becoming friends, anyway I ran out of heroes. Note: find obscure heroes, notably mexicans.

I hate Modern Art. It's too read. I have a list of Nazism in Art;

1. Very high profile Art Magazine you find everywhere; A black and white photograph; A naked woman in a bath, not much water, washing her long hairless legs, with large boots level to the middle of the bath, big leather boots with lots of straps and metal connections, on the side of the bath in the corner, a framed photograph of Hitler.

2. A book on show in the Whitechapel Gallery window. A blonde kid, with a milk moustache and a side parting like Hitler.

Anyway there were more, but you've seen those ones, a jewish woman in fancy dress, as Hitler.

3. Another art magazine. A story of a german photographer, meets Hitler, and he tells her of the 'Creation of a New Religion.' I realise he is referring to the Religion of Lars Shalom, but he has stolen it. And made it redder.

4. That saucy story of Tamara Lempicka and a horrible Italian pervert, in a kids' book, an old copy I suddenly decide to read after having been given the book for 12 yrs, because I hate all her Nazi paintings of Nazi's and

oh, she's Jewish. So.


I Hate This

I really hate stopping and asking why the Raeffi died.

I hate the name,

because I was drunk, in that little garden, trying to flick the goldfish around the pond when I sang that name, and because Polly was on TV, in a film where she played Mary Magdalene, that night, it was surprising that they had even allowed the television to be switched on. I stayed in the garden past bed-time, I had just the chapter about a vision of a snake and Jesus, a snake crawling over my arms because I was sat on my belly, writing, snakes walk on their belly, and anyway that 'jesus-man' who came to talk to me, was 'too evil, what is happening.' He was a serpent. Things like that can cause a spiritual death. I fought him a lot after that. Not just because of that, but I'd been left in the red. Bad red. Impossible calls, weeping women. No one there.

So, I stop on the name and think oh not again.


History of Raeffetta and Amorelia:

I was talking to his friend, there was another man there, perhaps in a cloak and hood too. There were bright light blue lights in his eyes: God. Bright red lights, some frenchman that jumped in the back of the boot of our bus, and followed us tot eh sea-side, red eyes; equals: Devil. It was unfair, why let a Satanist jump in the back of my car? There is a book itself concerning this french man, I figured he was the one involved in all this Holy Blood?Grail 70's important. It was the Satan man who cried he was the blood of God.

His eyes turned bright red in  the tavern. Anger. Whoever got those eyes would die.

Someone had put a bag of coins on the table. Buying a prostitute. The man in the hood with the red eyes, told a parable about the use or misuse of money. That was the clearest part in my memory.
These stories I remember so clearly, but I can't explain.

His friend was Judas. You saw this, and you knew Death.

You scaled, "If you are, You are."

You told him Heaven.

I knew this was the best friend.

hhhmmm...this will look hate. That's why I don't know why.


UHUHUHUH I didn't Kill Him by knowing this, I was the silly witch that kept speaking in his mind, while it looked like he was hiding out in the city. I had completely lost my mind. But I kept to him. I was cruel to tell the one I couldnt work out would kill, maybe I had my own story. Maybe it was odd divine. I just wanted to the tell the one he was with. It was fun. I even went past myself to the voice. the voice said:

Redeem me. I want to Love.

It couldn't have been evil.


Now both of us, we're soul. We find Love. We have hatred. He tried to redeem the Satan. I gave up on Him. It was simple, this was the War, help me now. I get Shekinah. I've brought Torah. I've married Shekinah. I've brought Christ. Shekinah says it's wise. ' It's not Sell, it's Face. ' "You did it before I was wed. You are right! I came alive in red !!!"

She is King.

Aldo Raine: Adam and Eve

I've spent a good week...I had three days, to stay in the garden, chuffing ciggies and drinking tea, with yes, gallons of whatever kind of alcohol is stalking me.

I danced, a funny dance all round the garden, jumping over the dog shit, one little lump of pooh...the "I have for you... desire!" dance over some one's head, and this semi-conscious automatic dance, where I turn into a big chimpanzee, and then I could see my Arabian son, copying my dance, so I built him a computer game, with platforms and flight power, and well, if they fall down a ravine, they're dead, they died five times, skill! ; Mario! Grandad said "Hey!! Marrrrria!!!!!!!" and some guy heard us, and built a game, I wanted to kill grandad, I kicked his chair over because he was drinking, kooper, because I thought he was Mohammed, I was pissed again, kooper.

So, I didn't spend money, and gave Nan a £20 note for her Catholic Hospice, I didn't want to tell, because it's breaks, Holy Law, but I told you..the day before that, I walked a few miles to Nan, and when I got there she wasn't in, so I had to rest on someone's wall, because I could see;

A chariot, of silver, being pulled by 8 white horses, and no driver, then drums began thundering through the skies above the houses. Then, something creepy, whispered over my shoulder, I didn't want to look, but, I was crying KILL KILL DEMON DEMON...He said:

"You are Jesus!" I was drunk, I had another mile to walk...I began singing, but when I sing I'm


Aldo, that was the skies!! I knew I was hanging out with God himself, because when I got stuck with a joke or an act, he played on;

He made me Look like Aldo, the guy, played by Brad Pitt, in the new film, Inglourious Basterds...it was swell...but back to the walk-stop

someone sent a rat down from the skies Just a rat, no Yay, there we see a demon we'll help, no they mocked me with a rat; (search Matishis) I saw where it arrived, yet when I looked, it turned into something higher,

a very muscly man, covered in thick black hair, and it cried;

"I'm Satan"...I looked at it, and it took my soul, and got sweeter. So, I thought; "The one who sent the rat, can leave Heaven!!! and I can just delete this thing!!" And this;

Eve, found it, and I heard the babies born; twins;

and they sounded grotesque, they were screaming, and one of them called out; CHUCK, in a loud man's voice...

And then I heard others, a family, that greeted me, a nice GOD family

Adam has created 65 thousand Heathens, Cain was despicable, Eve was dead...Abraham was King...the men of cain are part-white/part-ofare...which means, they bred with Africans, who appeared from, Heaven!! As did Abraham! They were very white, y'right MELANIN.

Southern India, Yeshoda and King Vishnu-Amarati, the third king of Arabia, got angry with Ashu's Cain, but they, the Gods; were still holy, and they sent kings and queens the colour of dark blue to Earth...Darjeeling sweet,

Ashu was a thicko...Abel turned on God, He said:

"Sick man, Ashu is like the (!!black!! which means SINS!)...Eve is bride, Eve mine...Ashu fat mack..."

Aldo likes Negro ladies, some despicable thang says he was lynched for being, no, he has an eye for the ladies...

It was Abel, then Cain yelled; "I fock froggg I fuccccckkkkk!" ??????? I can't look at any of them...Aldo is funny, he and another jewish criminal have killed; see this; 175 Naaaaaazi's, 75 muslims; toll up to 3000..a nice square jewish number... We fitted LASER EYES and the baddies fared firrrreeeee

smoker, be right back.

Time Traveller's Wife; I hated it...I was Aldo in the supermarket, I got back from that RAT walk; and the story, despicable, Jesus appeared and Baby Elijah appeared in my belly..and then Osama, I have to interview him, because (Allah cut in); "I don't want to see your voice, so Lars can take over the St.Peter's job..."

I want to see through Being John Malkovich;

He says: "BECAUSE I'm Carl!! They don't want me!" swarcz swarcz...I'm a primary school teacher, I'm ddancing up the stairs, Mummy Polly can leave because she swears, I can see bin laden bunker there are demons in their toilets, women are being killed daily, I'm dancing round the bathroom..I can see what Ashu left;

He puked; and logs/pieces of black hell wood appeared...I can see the world I partly know the secret, Nachman saw the Throne, because I wanted to look;

It's two girls, greeting each other outside school.

I said Nachman would die. I didn't know what he thought, he was crying; Father they've died!! They are Light! He said; I want this God...

Because it's pure...
I'm tiny in this street on the wall, and I want to look through;

I'm a huge white soul, covered in a veil, the Arabian countries, there, is a giant devil coloured fence/wall, two walls...devil colour is like; black, with knobs on..

that's it.

And still the drums...but you can't hear, can you?...nightwish-end of all hope...

Cain walloped Abel...---


No Cain left.

That was The first Holy War.

---fought between YOU and ???

Grandad is german, he has sent men down, I've jsut seen a very young man knife a yellow demon, this is END IT

withintemptation(this is dubby)

Someone is Dead

الاثنين، 3 مارس 2014


she had massive green, bird-leaf eyebROws, that had been snipped at and picked...they thick, thick even when she was a baby...a little squashed face, all these vampire lines around her lips, white face, a squashed nose, snipped at the end...

When we walked the mosque, we talked, I followed the little woman in leather jacket and cow-girl boots through the hall, clicking my fingers, thumping my thin arms, like easy waves, 1,2,3 skipping a little, a man gasps and clasps his chest crying his love, and he falls back against the door...looking at white face, with little white hair...we walked through a door, and entered the girls side, a dinner-night, full of large tables, seats squashed together...the first time a girl sees Jannah and she wails, turns round in shock, and walks away, I laugh, then wail and step towards her...I laugh again, and say:

"Oh dear! the first time she sees someone from Jannah! And I'm dead!!!"

The maiden went back to a youthful age, her thick wavy green hair, and massive black eyebrows framing huge dark green eyes.

True Love is green, Jannah is green...

Later, I have to find the mosque toilet...I feel tall, and walk to the beat of the Quran recitation blasting around the halls...I wave my hands and click my fingers, my soul sings the Surah, exact, I try to listen to my soul and hum some words, I'm walking to the beat, with black long hair, and rich dark purple coat, embroidered with a silent pattern...I turn towards the man's section and enter the door...A man holds it open for me as I walk through, and he bows, my head is high, his clothes turned to a sparkling silver...embroidered hems and edges...