skaelikiw | wikileaks supreme court

skaelikiw | wikileaks supreme court
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@braingarbage
#jasup #assange #wikileaks
maintain hardline kopimi

two flowers

your butterfly lashes
upon the coil of you
flashed heartily a thanks

i could not ever reach you
he took my hair and hands

it was for good of art
it was forsooth
unthought
there was no thinking in that yes or your exciting no

no no no
your no gave me so much joy

his yes had so much too
i can't understand

what are the chances

will you lose me
i have no empty promise to chase
i have no lies
we have no words and language
i am covered in the swaths of sound
i was naked
and you spun me robes of sound

lovers
i love your lovers
i deserve nothing
i'll take nothing
you are exploding in my mind
there is no you or he
finally you are one person
i love you both and so am so disturbed

deep into the hunger of my empty bed
my loves true

a way with no

you had a way with no
more ways to say and how
no sat as pretty on a plate as a gumdrop

and then i could watch you smile as i had at it
then yes you say in threes, across ether too.

denial was your suiting, in grey upon grey
dandy suits.
i can feel often now, the excitement of days, the empty way with her you miss me.
and with him, i you.  and with her, he me.

soso.

my love my denial, because you would not glean to touch me, so too then i meant into a dried flower, crisp to the touch and ungood.

your hunger sat sick into chemical prose.
i could never leave you for good.

the way of your love near destroys me, as i search for some meaning in him.
i taste his breath and his freedom, you were not laughing for him.
the while i was waiting to tell you, that admire you might ,what i've done.

the love in your face is uncertain, except when you
are twisting with pain.
i see you before the garden.
and taste your ear in my lips.
i hope she'll have all of your children, and then let me visit their cribs.

and if i could settle in sorrow, and live deep into one of his songs, you might find a new melancholy,
grew thick with the days and the way you told me no.

and see me there robed in the gold sorrow of his song, and the beauty of your face would know no name in time

but i would sit in his dawn, where sorrow makes true love die

and then you could not reach me or would
i was ever yours and not his to have
but then at least, the sorrow of so many petrol nightmares
might take comfort in a love so keen as thee
but darker

crushed by perfection

you were my love, with butterfly eyes, i told you you were all
summarily clearing away all thought

my toes danced upon your grave
i sought your double to entertain you
crushed by the cruelty of your no
you will not find here my way of denying
i want you both so

and when one love became two, i understood
the happiness that comes as a brotherhood

you would relish into my destruction the length of time

as sprawled into springtime i would be
dumber by days

my stomach is full of hatred for the superfund rivers swamp stew
i walk there and dream of a higher paradise
with air more perfect by years

stockholm i hope you spit in my face

my pain knows no location
he misses me i can feel the pain that waits for him
as he returns to a good sick day

i feel his slumber and his cold sleep
you had a way with no

incubi infects me with life force---when it was apathy i loved

quite concerned about my lack of creativity today

concerned with my scholar obsession

concerned with demonstrable intelligence

concerned that perhaps too i might need to demonstrate something here on interweb

wiki
demonstrates everything
and

the private personal demonstrates little

evolutional biological approaches to understanding human behavior in sublime reductionism wrest out strengths as posited wealths---

seductions
of the seducer's diary, kierkegaard

by this blog i do thee seduce
how so the literary is the erotic, at least today for me, a rupture to my deadly apathy

an interlude with a wraith, a spectre, a magician, an incubus----has torn me from my lassitude, for now all i want is him, a way back to that comfort of him
i am possessed by greed and disavowal

as my interest in the law wanes and my nihilism
hits all time highs

anything i might possibly say seems utterly foolish

and most things most people say also seem foolish

even so much zizeck. especially
i wonder where is the motiv?
the next cigarette, the next beefsteak?  the next lover?

where from comes theory?

how is the hyperdigital the hyperunreal?

where are the ties general, less than the particular---how is the letter to a person more that to the entire internet?

who is a recipient of knowledge?

sense:
time
directionality
the "setting" sun

the increase in pollution, every day

impinging mortality.

squares.
square rooms.
etages.
stages.

planar existence.
planes or plateaus.

mental calisthenics---shiva destruction---jains---ahimsa---anarchy triumphs . . .

waiting time
exile
freedom
refuge.

sonic joy.i am tired of my own mind.

i am tired of the internet.