So, Mister Campbell, and his mate

 times two.

God,  thirty year'nago.....

Now the problem with those European lands.... 

Is when you've got a 'connected'

 (GOD ALMIGHTY IF I EVER HEAR THAT FAKE WORD AGAIN

I CANNOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR.....  DROWNING THEM IN THIE ENDLESS REFRAIN

even she her briancells brainwashed 'flowed' away

by every ferkin word every day

to make them seem all sweetly Pretty Parker

the fake version, "have a nice day"

and forty ferkin years

i harked her.....

And still do.

Never mind the Englightbulbin' dark materials

can't listen even number one bard

" best ever song, you've all never heard

the word picture behind his perfect grotesque

 facade, but the picture will never die

no matter how hard

you try"

Anyway poor LA Belle France never had a chance

Despite their splendid "allez [fuckin] vous en" lore

I was told in bed,  by a native

speaking "thats the worst insult it means you are dead

tomee....

just go away....

True insultulative poetry

no need for ranty rudeness

just.....allz ....vous [polite] ...en

But there was always something a billion times more pestilent

Whether at fancy Sheraston City Squire hotel or menaderin by tent

Mine.... she even that night maybe nineteen ninety one or two

just before they were to get all " well we'll start a bigger genocide on you!"

A dark winters Belgrade night... 

America... she rings my bell

 or it must of been me her no signal all a bit fifty  years behind on thattoo

" do you mind if i marry him.....?"

Anyway fast forward a few years backward into well what was the point?

"Our book.. all that tooin and frowin across our pond.."

 

But an honourable friend of course stays friend even after the one best ever friend goes and befriends someone else, matrimonially....

And of course on their European tour

"come knock at my door, all three.."

the weirdest ever few days,  her the once sylphest beloved  sylph something of a fatty

but thats mutable, twas them the two men

every other word about their stupid little hightech flasks of coffee

, and minimalistic purity... 

fingers as if playing some virtuoso orchestra

i still remember Bill's 

He used his to "summon the dead"

The sweetnew American used his to herald the death..

of everything pioneer ... 

that infected here

with the obsession fingerplayed compulsive disorder

new order

just fooling around with their space age new age coffee flasks

Now thats a word picture worthe never forgetting

as i know is what the fine Grens over the water really need jeejhaddin'...

but they hadnt a clue

whom they were really up against and what to do...

but i did, or rather....

that's exactly the whole point....

Forty years ago nearly to the day...

I wandered out of a hotel in their Big apple and met the most innocent and perfect trio...

That is the whole of it

Bright eyed ...innocent

Boondock babes

No question of all that biblical bashin

(we wont talk about the gun under Margrets pillow) 

 "it never worked only good for trashin.."

The one perfect one, and all.... 

every quark wasting time vibrationally buggin'

 " Im the REAL fundamental particle"

stuck  between the ineffable  next reality 

and this one  not even visible magnifically

" fuck...i've only ever met one, definite article.."

 whom could never be remastered as perfect in every  original mistress of now, and we....

are in fact the product of every greatest bit of culture...

and kindof ignored Bowie....

(up the wrong  dead end local Cave

 but his two dead kids perhaps one day will speak, freely

of just what a tosser, 

of kids of cliffs, define: loser )  

Anyway Mister Bach's progeny.....

And her arty sister, taught me.....

Every single thing those Europeans missed....

One problem though nobody could know

Especially me innocent limey

The only one who ever truly worked her way into every smallest quark-vacant nook and cranny.. 

the lacuna between mere stuff,

subatomic unseen

  and forever ineffability

Thing is its impossible to put it into words.

(even if i would discover a decade later

flippin eck for all those fancy rockets and destroyers

they cant even make good housepaint for me to fix up christ-o-biggot towers... )

Why is it that Americans seem to only ever have a sell by date?

A "sell you down the river" ... 

sticker on their bum, as unbridgeable as that River Plate...

Every decade or one an' alf....

gotta runaway and .... tear 

up the loveliest and truest  photo of who they were

 

and quite sure still are, inside

and must Forever hide

As a service to humanity The Bible on Free Speech, for free, buckshee! saving you years and years wonderin' if you should care....

 on a finest yeterramble

no yesterwander....

landlopin up in them hillsyonder

(i don't hold grudges*,

 asked the Stroudent cliquine

 if she wanna guide and  a trudge

talk about my latest killer poem need an inside rail 'feminimine'!

experience is only half of it)

free substack audio will be turned into Youtube sermontoo one day soon ..ish

Free Speech - The Bible onnit. By one who knows.. but save yourself and forget about it in UK -NOBODY cares. Nor understands what it was for...this audio saves YEARS of your future life frettin!boutit

https://open.substack.com/pub/ralphschism/p/free-speech-the-bible-onnit-by-one?r=2jdt8a&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

Free Speech part 2, conclusion bits forgotten, share to save SO much frettin! as literally 99.999999% of UK wouldn't want it. Never mind not understandin it, as it may point a torch at themtoo

https://open.substack.com/pub/ralphschism/p/free-speech-part-2-conclusion-bits?r=2jdt8a&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

and even if your too effete to use the Substack

here in google filestore drive raw data

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1RDUHE45K6ykMOZ76cGW7-EfhODF_KSWs?usp=sharing

(NEVER ever edited, nor paused...i just meander and waffle

 for a lost cause

of tomorrow being free 

always... unlike she  - thisters,

perraps ik shall see her later )

photos of a silly naive  whatsap received yesetermorn still to add in here ....

i 'post' or publish then have to tweak posts never ready until a bit later or quite a few still a year later

unfinished (too busy laughing at their GRUDGES - i mean three years of them! ) but i know every missing link

* why we NEEDED all them Europeans, your silly internet (my so called 'friends' used to know about Europe, couldnt listen, the men that is, "have you worked IN it, worked FOR it,  loved IN it,  fucked IN it, EATEN gastronomically and SIMPLY in it, bred IN it, thousands of KM wandered IN it opened a few bank accounts IN it been arrested IN it, even hilariously and so enjoyably engaoled IN it ...over 20 or more years...well unless you have you know nothing such as ive never known well any European who holdes a grudge - that's a decidedly Sceptic Aisle kindof behaviour.... not innate as all humans are the same, merely constructed... which means you can dethefuckconstruct too....  why we needed Eurotrash all over here interbreeding interfucking intereverything..." and i gave up on them  - the silly so called UK men, by 2020 when you realised every single one [m.] had gone and got lost down their rabbit hole forever which wasnt any one way fun-hole merely rather dark...  and they're too mean to share the torch to find the way back out...especially the Quakers - my first some year male ... attempt at sharing reality....nope even Cambridge uni doesnt allow that - for a silly man to listen.... about somewhere he's only ever been on holiday...and even he after decades of Internationalist  'better together' goes and falls victim, prey...to .... what he only ever read on your silly interweb.... of nothing but unreality...never mind if anyone had said to The Pyrenean or even Foothill Frogs " you will welcome Macron and his technocratic townyism and shut up about it too...." nobody would needto SAY anything, as the pitchforks amassed would say quite enough....  there is no legalistic cohesive "EU"  - local identity is all quite fine and keeping to what its known forever.... silly city boys and girls try... but they can never influence any real hilltop peeps....  thats for them Rosbeefs over La Manche....   who never fight for anything unless its the gaze of others watchin their pointless non-performance...   them Portuguese got them bang to rights centuries ago " for the English to...see..[ the p;atinated picket fence all shiny and gloss, 

when behind the paint was rotten and flaky as candy floss"  )

Right there we go the end even if five years ago it obviously was... but what a fun half a decade in part 2, the ....??? 

except ten more days to go or is it nohh twelve.....

Now that's quite good.... ( " are you a clique of fools?")

 Now, 'tain't their fault....

As Poliakoff harbingeringed, in his 98 The Tribe, a load of tribes cults whatdyerknows which would 'flow' into every workshop, clique and gang of fools in the world moves over to the safety of the SW.... and any sane person had left their theme parks way before, as i did, even 1992 as they spread out from Fulham rd., potion sales operations all over, slowly   dribbling up through The Cotswolds in parallel with 'family assassinations' and all that which only come along when the big expensive SUV with 5k personal monogram on the front, can't be paid for any more... and thus 'identity' is nomore....

none of my business as any sane person in fact heard in 1979 my ohh my that year,  we - my thensane wonderful tribe which included Princess DI later the drug dispensary, we had on loop the great album,  and the great allegorical   thingumybob just a word picture of the really rather stupid book, that tried to hard to be the bible of the ones who heard the great album and didnt get it: "youtoo"

in other words if you have only skimmed one rather silly showoff 'surreal' book and then buy some little cottage off the tramps of Stroud, Hay, even in time Presteigne... Gweek all these places they later (much later than me who had run away only to escape them 15 years earlier, about 2007 being the big year...

all going on about some 'milennium bug' End Times...or whatever they obsess around...around,na decade earlier hadn't worked so they were bored of melodrama and decided to go and seed it elsewhere,  the keyword, melodrama... drama queens... or just bored OF themselves....

Anyway thats all impossible real history as they are so plenishingly abundant they cannot allow any real history....

Such that all 'this' the magnificent poet chubby Kev saw through nearly fifty years ago! ...and you will still have the tribes of HAtefilled smilers gathering now on Gweek park pretending they actually have some 'community' in any other way than transactional, and wanting to be prettier than the next Whickerine  flouncer.... so that they can fang-sink, them into Rupert's antique landrover which like;ly jhas a few million quids worth of mummy's L'Oreal shares  exchnaged for somewhere to park a few 'patinated vans' (he LOVED that yesteraft another refugee, from Wadebridge this time, and fine artist making jokes about the 'ancestrors' who had a real funky sense of humour in 500BCE as he showed me at great length " god it got SO greedy and fake i had to run away..." 

 Thing is about the Pretty ...parkers..parkups.... they can't laugh at THEMselves any more which is the definition of a clique and also the worst workshops ever ... and basically fascismtoo.... 

None of which interests me other than maybe over time weave something just a tad tenth as good as The Count's Resurrection " but tear out the last two seditious pages!!"

Being i don't think there is any other book or thinker who thunk better on how the 'working' class  are their own exact realised whatnots and some guilty aristo who tags on to save his own soul should be told to stay in his own posh compartment of the gulag train.... as " im quite alright without you thank you very much on your cross... furthermore i am in love with this splendid smelly tramp who i snuggled up to lastereve to prevent myself from dying of cold...but you can be our friend if you want until you get bored of Siberia..." 

Anyway .... nobody ever can even think of any joint humanity here there and everywhere...in The LAnd of only self 'realisation' that invaded my last territory 20 years ago.... funny thing not one know what happiness is.  (never mind a rare honest artist, perhaps because he was so 'ugly' in a nonmutable way, and so must never be mentioned as so,  and thus couldnt trade on prettiness )

 Or  see what you do NOT see is so interesting - often moreso than what you do....

" ehh so what do you call a gathering of fools, a clique?" (there is a backstory to that notfornow...)

I should have blurted out " a business!" as twas on my mind.... " like a business of ferrets [BIGSMILE] ...one difference they cannot be bought..."

anyway an evening of foolery ... not one had bought along any man....  it never occurred that i would be sat in a room of only woman 'artistes'... 

But of course when every word for decades (" ehhh avante garde theatre was invented like a hundred years ago nuthin new...") is rather 'seperatist' they get what they want..... (in Lower Sourcetown this is) a room where theyre all separated forever.... except well i did intro myself AS The Fool....

me whom thought one smile was real.... (long long knew that one! god every single incursion upon simple humanity you had thought they had invented twofacery the smugness and revelry in... 'passive aggressive' bad manners via being ghhostly!   )

Anyway if only they knew: what eight magnificent hours shut eye no matter what unless i am busy with the minor flotsam after their gunboats have been at it as so often for several decades...

I adore it the way at 0600 faces even if double sided that one met a day or two ago, at dawn after eight hours shuttersdownsville come back in absolute high fidelity... 

( i wonder if she saw me atchin-here.... quite deliberately?? ... 

she liked to speak quite sincerely...

some things cannot be faked nor sold, even for free)

Now the subtle art of.....

 (i don't lie, i have zero interest in any place in this whole place that sold itself to Mammon decades back.  My only interest is why he, mister Muttin'am, ranty

supposed beefy 

builder-poet,  

could be quite so sold out...

five yerars ago.

And then why the nexteryear, the so called hardnosed lady of her 'famous' stud

way up high in them midwales hills

 fine old stables left rotting for years...

and a man comes along to fix em up...

all one hears day in and out is the saddest sort

of naggin', even by her oldtimer dad.

And then gets gibbed - a fancy word for stealing.

The old-code being one always pays the day man, especially if he bought your groceries on the way up.

How could things have got to that?

Nothing SW even wobbles ones rainrepelling £1 hat

As every drop expected

Anyway yes at least i say it to people's face

Before pondering how to chronicle the commonplace.

All about.

So much more interesting Pastyshire without a doubt.

Lastereve the 'poets' gather.

And two rather good. especially the old woman rolly smoker.

To all four faces "sorry rude to sit at the socket all evelong... yes ive an 'offering' so you wont get me wrong"

"thing is ladies...or is it women.... 

last time i went to one of these

Bodmin, dead poets society [tm someone else]  if you please

All of them, all night moaning

about body, problem, illness

THREEblokes versiifyin  on  their prostrate!

of three there. [i saw their expensive antique landrovers pulling up, so much distress..]

i felt like goin' down on my knees...

surely poeming's to make you be alive, fight on...  eat the stingybees live

  one by one by the gobful  wholesale  hive by hive

But no merely moan,

 'cos of my prostrate i nearly [southern grammar]  stayed home'..

and the women with their far more aristocratic conditions... 

i left in the intermission

shouldv asked for my 'donation' back...

ohh forgot i have second sight and kept my pennies back "

 Anyway the subtle art of its impossible to make any bought in to their fantasy

think one has one millisecond of interest in their fantasy "community"

Just like hers down Hatesville way and i didn't say that! t'was she...

But i did see something beautiful today. 

Keeps happening  where least expected.

None of my biz,  my safety fencer erected.

(but who was that thisters waved at me ..." did you see her do you know her..?" "no mate not me.." 

No not her the fabulous book of old timers pictured.

especially the moorish lasses  haytruck laughing,  and i know not staged.

some real smiles do not age...

oops forgot why i even turned it on...

especially on a walking one)

Anyone else with empty unmajyycill little lives

 would say " its a SIGN! man alive...!"

The most ridiculous coincidence

As someone else said prior to this... 

But all it was 'for'

merely in truth to (though few occasionally mention reticently)

Is to remember everything still as class-ridden unconsciously

Bovarian cancer ate their brains " We're aware and conscious, look at me"

If you tell a Source woman - as always, middle, but in their small minds consider themselves just slightly cut above

" dyer know  that silver grey hair of your'n,  and i can tell no chemicals involved... truly is quite so astonishingly gorgeous i hope you dont mind me sayin so..."

The middle+ will look you up and down and just maybe force a smile

The middle- thats moody blue collar, cut above the 'working'

stood there so splendidly mean and moody and wont look anyone in the eye

her lapel borne camera's newage solution for that, 

catch em bang to rites in their abusive chat!

the only thing would make her kind happy

until someone loiters, prowls... awaits his moment

why not ... I'm content

And i couldnt stop her talking and laughing about how much time 

" it just took SO much time...and now i'm free! :-)  "

as usual the only sincere, smiley 

" well take it from me, its also TEN times more sexy..

as is your joy thats borne of sincerity"

  

 

so, it's almost like full circle...

 "no dogs Irish and diggers here.."

And they get a new pumped up little whippewrnapper of a  recruit their Tommy....

And all the  fancy dogs in Christendom...

For now that death cult we shall leave aside 

As the othercults ...

well the thing is when you go to 'THEIR' poetry bash 

in their Hampstead-on-hash

And there are only four there

Well, it's the definition of Narniac fantasy

 

I have no interest in whatsoever

other than how the fantasy came to be

is whilst pondering High Mts Of Serbian, freedom, 

all that interests me.

As nobody has done it, yet.

As they can't.

As it's their bubble

that frankly never was. 

As per....(allthat swanky posterage!) just four.

Me only there for the sockit.

splendid one too.

Thing is though yesteraft at exactly 

oops wrong camera what a pain to have to revolve and pivot round three 

just to capture the stories, not even for me

 

Ahahhhhh....full battery at thedawn...

 The... even if the best time is that wintering-the-fuck ..

around

05.15 and drifting back....

thisterone: " wow those gibbers... even if the first was exactly twenty years ago about thistime

of year.... 

' uhhh i just cant do it any more...  we kindof like to come and meet yer ferrits mine three and your'n....  but you'll have to come to mine.... [ horrid little Lowland pad, noise of the invaders just over horizon,  and proof pollytunnels make you mad]..."

Even if thirty years ...

the thing is what they steal these Southern lasses raised on the sharp edges of suburban Paperchase

packs of control, their desk then the suburbs then the world...

but never mine territory

Thirtyyears ago just do the JOB

Living in the coldest dampest very Olde Shoppe

Brilley

Rich landowners and his, overtly  ...Christian... agent

 Never mind a few years later: " ohh didnt you know...

'ohh how lovely a child to be born in our parish, [radiant smile]'  Segrot's

 tennant policy: up the duff, and a notice 21 later, off you go.."  

But that's another story

The only one that matters is the footings of thewall, no damp course, several years on, the first job, no consultation no remuneration

just DO it yourself....

A whole week  of pick axein' and tough ground diigin.

No fuss no liability no asking no self pity

Righty ho but twenty years

Twas that whole class, her a 'journalist' fiddlin' with her Paperchase

then polly, tunneling around the world on her internet dates

funny that, three kids back home

But because your guru is Rudolph Steiner

" well in my last life, i was a humming bird, and the next i might get to be a gadfly..[ even iof they only ever assume and aesthetically design, butter...fly"

off they fly just cos the winter is being winter.

At our glorious just at the snowline

But all gibbers - or charmy time wasters absolutely NO idea who they are...all the same, as they spread in like an oil slick  over their previous suburban pile of Paperchase ... neatly folding the world into their  English private schoolgirl, very very flat land as folding compresses, reality....

into nothing but sterility

As paper needs to be damp randomly creased and mouldy diseased...to be alive

Ahhh oui un artiste !!! 

sur mon playliste

 

 (for the smoking poetess yestereve..)

The meaning of success, and winning infact the battle and war...

The very first of the new phase of mad ones well she wasnt...

That first glorious winter we would natter and she even got mine humour, " get on yer broomstick now babe.... its only ten mins from your Laurie's Slad... and the very idea of Serfina makes any dad worth his name a very hard lad....."

But i could not even remember her name

And i never admit failed memory

But then you realise why, 

and what gettin one over onem

is

As they say time speeds up getting middle aged

well, when your  absolutely non-life is so so full of endless people pleasing bullshit and every word you love 

as Siren song one eyed monstresss

bonkers Odyssic poetry

Even the one nine months back

It really is a whole good as decade... feels like so rediculously much has been

between then and now....

it.....you....stretch time and feels like almost forever

all you want.

Bet you aint got it.

No workshops available..... only the work of you, can MAKE-DO

 

Right that other new word...

 But twill have to be tomorrow when i have for the first time disobeyed it.

Meanwhile ... at least one, only one and what a coincidence, smiled .. even behind her mask as they cannot cover where it really matters as her eyes simply exploded as if Mister Fawkes had done his job properly ..." god you made my day..."

But i wasn't meant to be there.... 

Anyway for now some passing soi called reader who doesnt know my mode 

wouldn't know. 

I adore The Source.... especially the Lower Dept., store region

It's absurdly majiicuw.... 

It just works.

And the other poutlying  places well them too

I've never been moor totally and utterly at one with anywhere.

And i don't lie to trip Advisor

oops a reload with better tile

now yes in The Lower reaches... thus far various versions " the wicker baskets... yoghurt weavers " 

But it would be SO easy in lingua Franca as every Frog knows what Les Camemberts...are

and "they just make me laugh....continually"

right the rest later

soon

anti-foodie oops that audio isnt up yet

Now....soon, raining on my parade is simply impossible

free bananas all that matters, ever

all my Miss Spells parody the child abuse,  how on earth do they expect the children to ever learn this hardest language a series soon... with accompanying series of endless moanin by the sign placers " ohh my kidz got lernin issues.."

right new image soon

old image rather 70s i liked them

ok SO poignant its daft

ditto

and most important philosophical zentip....ever 

soon

No 'brain fog'...ever

 The amount of times i have heard that as if it is some badge of honour

Some new club with golden medal currency

look at and remember  me,

 as tomorrow i wont even remember we

had this chat about anti-foodie cinematic Golden Globe

worthy DOin'....

or all the other chats...

Funny thing is if you live actually ...aside...

you notice how several times its ...cleared.

And just maybe...why

Anyway one day, maybe 

but every the verb to gib, just a stupid Pasty-fogged

showoff effnix variat of fibber

" i will meet for a coffee... keep you working at the job you're SO brilliant at..."

T'must be killed off 

with one small story of.... that which separates the countryman from...thee

memory

(about what i even said twenty years ago, never mind  anything in modern dayglo

of just maybe this one means her smile....

but i dont care if they don't

as thister dawn a perfect romantic deserted alonespot, is the definition of contented...and every single fib, leads to every single always cheery dawn .... if only they knew just how  oppoasite-effect, what they cannot help to do.)

...all little slightly obtuse hinted  refererences even from several years ago...quite clearly in my brain as i know how not to befogged...

you

and will soon be gotten backto, as i said i would.

Now, i saw this thing, briefly, and no disrespect to the 'sharer'

 as me myself and i ....and i am blind to all attributes, and know that now, is irrelevant...

if one finds the key. which is the exact opposite mirror universe to the one they pimp....

for the crappest books in the history of The End of Time....

Anyway being a prejudiced little bad remembered i always forget the non white greatest of em all, whom not only never bothered to sing songs about any so called 'gender' she may fancy, a bit of hand in handin' with along the St Justinian byways to show....

But was rightly out front just before the wonky one with her Blackbushe and yes its a scandal and affront to the chronicles of true modern poetry, that nobody bothered to film her ... there...

But i was there 1978 mesmerised,  quite close to the hems of her fine jeans,  god only knows how....

But one knows one thing if anyone had heckled " she likes girls" not one peep in the whole of that several hundred thou

proper counter-culture

 would have cared ....

And furthermore she wrote the real songs about not being all melodramatic and deliberately self hating the self for effect.... losing redheads and having to road trip off around the land to  show off your dilettante new hat that became 

all they took

and theyre everywhere!

(but hers for the price are bargain basement oops havent got to her yet, in the basement below here..)

(however in my private little real road trip, 

just around a splendid so perfect territory

what did i hint a few weeks ago?

into the lair...

its so interesting that its such a cousin of liar

Anyway the best ever energy! Despite weeks of gibberin' dangerous pants-on-fire

Into her lair....

" unlike ALL the rest whom peddle  this [ shamniac voodoo showoff] haberdashery

...you really do have such extraordinarily lovely just gorgeous real-bubbly ...energy"

i don't lie. 

***********************************************

....oops tangent all i was going to riff:

 .....and no disrespect to the 'sharer' as a whole Pestilent coupla counties.... one has absolutely no idea ever whats behind any eyes...

Even hers ... i thought i did. 

Even if i know i do.

But thats an uneaten agatop stew.... and forget

so yes some shared thingumybob comment....as something like 

"see yourself as a verb"

Now..i do have a truly dull and no entendres essay to write soon-now 

soon maybe

About how to get 'better'

as if anyone ever has i found the key.

Which infact, in one line is: holding on to that which we must

the duty responsibility  even until ..

or to quote the problem...

and unto dust thou shalt return  

well i hope they burn in fricassee hell

  as the whole purpose of their 'dust'

is to clean it away now'n again on this planet and reality now

And i know my bishes  in that a fairly ok one a few year'nago said on wireless fourchan

" hmm bit of an adjustment may be overdue...

fifty or so years ago it was a lot more about good deeds on this planet, now

but especially startin' all these dodgy infectious Yank evangelists..

infected even our mainstream,

 it became rather more about only 'saving' my pathetic little individual soul, now..."

which surely is a fine definition of NPD .... but no point screamin

even to a genuine high-up chalice weildin'  friend

(maybe definition that so Miss Used word: they can take a joke: "you  🙏" oops i was looking for the one with a laughing face exuding tears of total consternation exasperation, indeed pure Monty choking on his Python you couldnt make up their cant and vanity...  but the new age are always a bit worse sadly so the new age salescon snakey

 emojii really is the one to focus upon )

all they can think about is THEIR 'illness' til  their end.

Anyway if i had a spare £29.99 i would in fact pop back in and pay the entrance fee to her finest real pixie-energy salesroom

Or anyone to gift a jolly good deal, to...

But the greatest one gift there can ever be

i study deeply and live within this lost and bonkers iteration of humanity

All their endless illnesses...

A decade ago every time one wandered into scumhole Kington charity shops

the few pondlife floating patinated atop of the real layer of very thick scum

(sent out to keep their house prices uptoo)

The 'middle class' every single one all you would ever hear top o' their voices

 something 'wrong' with them....

but only a fool doesnt know, choices

never mind modern currency

Their lingua-franca 

decidedly post Farragian  putrid Aisle

" listen theres something wrong with..me"

is how almost all self define

and only a fool, me, wont buy into the communal gold mine

When thats all it is.

A tube of rather cheap glue....

gives y'all summit to talk about, rather than DO.

(as the FABULOUS biking babe said shetoo rants about!

"but, luv, a man cannot....sorry if i did in your local pub, well,  there is a verb to be glassed. )

anyway yes all of that .... 

" see yourself as a verb"

I happen to have DONE ... a fair enough share indeed no more than mine

stopping singlehandedly one tescohomes development, and far far more radical

monitoring dead otters badgers and ...erraat murdered

never mind puppy farms, her gold mine

(deep in the heart of Hay infact you cant be more in the heart of it as every other yoga poster she pumps out for two decades, tell you she is !!)

And all this stuff i LOVE

Never ever moody furrowed brow or unkind

merely as honesty truth about where one lived

is indeed healing 

all that energy 

keeping inside, or pushing out, for cash,  fantasy

i do believe takes away from the fine natural system of natural immunity

But theres the far more subtle matter

Of when you KNOW you must...

even until the last speck of dust 

you became

But have the greatest ever tragic interuptus

(i even have him recorded, at my door ... fat blue line)

so cannot

A strange thing happens.

The exact opposite of every stupid word became their stupid selfloving tyranny

To be cont

 

 

So, all life is ..

 Thing is they think they are just SO SO 'original'...

So so the first one in history to smiley-pretend

friend, fine mutual beneficial cooperant...

enthusiast at philosophical chat on "what can WE do about all the cant.."

just grateful employer...

Or "lets meet for a drink next thursday"er..

As a worldwide

 meandered from the moment of official adulthood

as good as

(as least she saw me in my very first original green still fine old sturdy backpack turning up unexpected other side of the world - but how sad just the other day seven years on almost to the day i heard Bolivia has gone spivvy sportspub;  as i said to that Bush the whole world all the same.... real travel is in fact to the wasteland of DO something where you dont WANT to do it )

one sometimes needs good info, and if not around all that much due ones long ago work patterns, well you dont get many chances for a nice drinky-then

 rendez vous up the road from S ken

Thirty five years ago I meandered off most assiduously

"This awful London lot.... cannot ever ever keep to an appointment

mean what they say.... ALL, one and all so flaky!"

And what has been the ohh so dull only real life history

They spread like a puddle of  murky water filled up by badly maintained roadside ditches topped up by a passing shower

Even high up in the once farmer proud-jobbing hills.

 

Only one word. Flaky. Thirty five years ago i knew, and acted to get well away... so any exasperation is the wasted time of the fool. Merely marooned as the flakes snowed even on these cedars...

which was a book that showed how literature really went as pumped up and wank as them - all hype about murky  dreaminess within,  but little substance

Anyway THE only thing about life in Gibbertite lands, or even silly girly '#vanlife' fantasy which actually doesnt exist only in their youtube videos or bumper stickers, they wish to momentise... 

is thrift.

A fancy word for save a fiver here, ponder the cost-benefit of spending that fiver to get there....

thats all.

Nothing else.

But if only it could be as fun a  thing to artify and perform as the fun they dont have showing all the 99% of bad art ...

Because as sure as ferrits are, it really does, work...on the soul.

Now...all i care about is equality...

 especially when it comes to the 'story'....

And even if i don't care about those not of my own identity...

Us actual real minority.

Those whom don't have that 'Catholic' thinker's inner setting of i want what you HAVE (ref a few days ago) 

And also who read Eric's magnificent book, just the title all you ever needed..... all you needed to know To Have or to BE...

like when i was about bloody twenty three

I do know that there is a mass brainwashing. 

Especially evident in places where one needed real identity: we are all innit together;

tree fallen, pigs out...

muck in!

muster in a team no matter what you 'feel'

about your neighbour's nonsense the night before.

Or what every younger female out on a walk seems to know

in these Southern lands:

that some other person male incoming, is guaranteed to be Misscreant

Now funny thing is if one wants to get all equality of story

Surely The First...

(now i have a fabulous chronicle of many a hillside chat with many from the other sex ALL of whom when poised a question: " so would you prefer to work in an office of fellow females, or us  guaranteed abusin' dodgy pervminded lot....which would you chose prey tell?"

Every single one, their expression told their truth: " ...***. " what do you think? answers on a postcard. Even if i never read any comments as theyre all by those too mean to put their money where their fingers are never mind i know i am right i dont have NPD and require someone else to agree...)

Anyway so ehhh  i know the data and stats .. about 1:4 and even 0.0001 of those 4 is evil or missguided to say the least, but number one, well she did literally torture her own cousin in her Tower for 19 years and then  get her serfs to bucket of bathwater away all the blood after a de-heading... possibly just copycatting Henry the  worse a few generations before.... who knows.

But one thing for sure it wasn't for which denominational cause and effect, it was merely the denomination of the times as was and will be forever,  the bling.... 

i just wish that some moron hadnt removed the ONLY good thing online which was a Gollum thing doing a skitty '"preshuss" thing 

over his bling.

had many million views...  numvber one rule in the new kingdom is dont take down good stuff its selfish and a bit weird like Gregory of Shantaram.... even if his appalling book, their 'bible' even Agent Z's... is so nasty about junkies he caused to be junkies through the back door....

Defo NPD when a writer makes and also millions of social media impressions worldwide and then tells the world 'delete' them all and me...

A perfect example of HAtesvilleism.... they put their table out only until.... ?? i dont quite know what but ... until they're rumbled? or what...but they never say so they never use their own awry journey as fable to others they merely run away ...not crying as tears are healing too...

especially when the tearfulness is over just how Missguided one innocently became....

Like EVERY single illish person i knew of many  whom allowed the witch doctors in, their front door ...all so sweet and healery and all that reikii.... 

so so clever " well... [£30,k later] ...i still don't really know if some of her treatment may have worked.....  some of what she would guide me around was seemingly sane and good advice..." 

blessem one wouldnt want to break their heartstrings which tied tight the treasure chest " and has been known about for free, for ever.."

Anyway the faery tale is particularly evident in the real rural lands.... if one can sto long enough somewhere to collect together many  perfect examples of, how the ladies of the land are just as unable to actually listen to sense (" you will lose FAR less to the lawyers hovering you now if the two of you put BEHIND you your feelings... and compromise on the settlement.." just astonishing how in fact one sex could never ever ever back down ever and the amount of formerly family farms around Horrorfordhsire the lawyers got all of....is the real 'equal' story of the land ... ) 

Anyway all i care about is despite every gibber and tragic aloner  i have an even better memory than ever and i remember that near enough a year ago in here i 'lost' a new word came to me whilst as usual speedtyping  one predawn on a windy cliff... and partly finished 'posts' from even three years ago....

One totally unfinished but i put up part 2 of the wonky Serb's  weirdo wedding scene jst a few days ago... but don't know if i should change it from 'unlisted' to public i just dont know but i know every single realisation over a dull but the most thrilling ever endless decade of fun... rain or shine... came to be true... 

Anyway SO much here is only part written such as Miss Ohhh Jenny ... or in fact Chloe..

Now there is a pattern:  i care about only in-context, fullfrontal, journalism..balanced... in the round.... . and dont care about exact data when it comes to whom Chloe had around to tea whist focusing on ONLY a woman she wanted to impale on her pen when Marchant and others FAR worse examples of truly hateful books (and io knew some of them..) 

so on a  sort of silly 'recue mission LASTERWINTER TO KEEP MYSELF COMPANY IN LONG LOVELY NIGHTS OF NINE HOURS 

OOPS ACC CAP NO BATTERY LEAVE

https://www.tortoisemedia.com/listen/dangerous-memories

and the REAl problem is this awful new book on 'wintering'  - i listened to excerpts all the same women always " ohh we are so in tune with nature and need wintyers to plenish we are ENTITLED to them..and then will have natural zen so we dont need as much pollyfilla round the eyes either..."

wrong

the EXACT opposite and i am expert at dozens of very very long lonely winters middle of nowhere nobody to show off my lovely new 'Wintering' coffee table book to...

its the EXACT opposite - meaning, summer any rural peeps who doesnt even own bedroom curtains and body clock set to awake at 0530 regardless ...you sleep a bit less... autumn is lovely even if i only like 50 degrees of raghead sunshine with out even a sunhat at midday

because some nights you end up "plenishing" - forgive the artlessness i have SO many photographed posters about abundant plenishhation  and even more baby words (at £75 per 3 hrs donation suggested") in fact theres a pattern: around the heel and toe its far more total spiritual in your face spasticity  and brighter not quite as Central London production standards..as one moved North the production gets far more, Asma's PR agency standard... very very posh.

with concomitant hikes in the price of...fish

(ing for your purse especially if its real leather...)

I have  20+ years only one rule in writing, as any judge knew ..if one uses the word 'concomitant' it means i will eat your fuckin wig as roughage,  AFTER eatin your balls in public and spitting them out as sour and inedible... even if you were the last sweetmeat available on the planet.

And being they were a bit noble-men each did defer to that correct meaning quite respectfully infact....

Anyway...ehhh....  so much to finish off, such as get her sacked, as i got Hedley (number 3 judge in the whole UK civil system and BBCs fave and earmarked for top Honour) sacked...quietly..in 2006 or 7ish after he met me and made a mistake...

The pattern....

where is it? a brief blast of sunshine every ray must be used two per vancab warming up for free...

so i cant see if i already put this up here

https://www.tortoisemedia.com/listen/dangerous-memories

so yes wishing to complile a whole large page about fake shaman and how no Jenny Come Lately Former Sov could even slightly compete with a forerunner GENIUS  embezzler...i mean its funny all those ex Cheltenham Ladies mummy fucked em up so there she is  screwin' em with such genious for many thousands...

i forget her name its in the mugshot files of some gaol....

its a piece of gorgeous storytellin...

could be about half the incame to The MArches from about 2010 .. especially that one in Clun but theyre far far cleverer and will never be caught even if they certainly did abuse nastily my kindof little friend the poor woman victim Pippa..(photod here 2 ish years ago)

Thing is..... ok i know every single bored female who left some suburb is on a 'journey' of 'self realisation'  - even Charlotte Church in her thing earlier this year god how we laughed !!

mad emoney with crap music bought a house near my 25 year back stompin ground cos no HAy loons ever went to Rhayader... so theyre cheaper and turns herself into eco Messiah...

i dont believe a word, never did never will as its all about bumpin up their property prices...

until it all crumbles ..

anyway...  Tortoise Media bought The Observer i believe.... i believe Chloe worked for them though can't be bothered to google again... 

Now... DAngerous Memories even if it has been surpassed by every much cleverer snake oil vendress (ok Holford and a few other blokes STARTED it  - many essays on that in drafts from 2 years ago! )  but en masse they came to emulate PAul...by HAy he starting it there mister 'sound healing' con artist ...  dressed up in a kaftan to hide his credit card machione constant company...and of course the puritain veneer of 'organic' ...veg....

grown ups like me ate for breakfast 50 years ago, with Ralph the First a pure pacifist beautiful mind and true yokel 

Thing is its interesting how the Miss Oh Jenny pass me The Observer and kick The Tortoise out the way all our 'slow food' slow ' everything' thats fashionable in inner circles ... a total lie as its the speed of the walking round here that defies all sense... they may as well be in the gym on drugs back in some city,  no time to stare...chat...lope...ponder... just BE...

ohh god near forgot the nontengential point ehhh.... 

may have to add a ps later (i often do so my sick lost speedfans who come here instantly i post may have to return too) 

Anyway yes.... The Tortoises... now any sane person who knows THE BODY and MIND indivisable... and has known a few 'osteopaths' knows a con when they see one or hear him...

There being very very rarely any specific technique to fix a bit and all those poor rich ladies who swear by theirs...well at least my once first wise goddess {even if the bling felled hertoo]  swore AT hers...a famous one father of her kids...Kashoggi's as it happens...

Now i am not interested in writing any essay here about the true healing: battle on no matter what

ohh yes its come back - and this is ALL i care to leave behind if only one thing as i knew a decade ago...  'wintering'

the latest ruse to RESERVE THE RIGHT....via the rights of some wankbook.... to one day pack her bags and go and live in The BAhamas when her royalties dry up...and the love they all so crave as mummy was a tad craven...

we have known forever that the winter is a good time to hibernate a bit... go WITH the natural flow of nature...

but then guess what after your smuggit phase has finished if you are areal narture-flower about 3 or 4 weeks, WHEN you are plensihed with more sleep and dozy times..
(and its often a bit too windy to enjoy 50km a week or afternoons dozing on the beach) . 

THAT  is when you sharpen your spear and find a victim to go and hunt...

THAT is what a bit of plenishywintering is FOR....

(i do have a recording that goes with this of the worst pious bullshit ever in the history of these fake goddesses Richard MAuybe having got a bit too wrinkled to pimp with his part crap)

recharge a bit after more energetic summers, and then grow up and take on the local polluter/ fake religious cult that has 11 billion up from 6 in 2019 and homelessness up 10% in the last year about in harmony with...

having 'wintering'ly plenished a BIT...you are ready for seditious battlin' 

bit of course can't find allies as theyre all frantically trying to find the last copy of her 'Wintering' nonsense that we all know was part sense centuries ago and like swimming in rivers i was when i woz 10 ... we didnt need to call it 'wild' anything..its just fuckin swimming...all these tragically bored women now colonise this colon ready crap..

As they darent DO anything with their 'wintered' plenishment like fight the landlady who is ripping off the council by renting out 'eco' retreats to poor women stuck on the dole as theyre far far too good for partners.... without even a pee bucket at £100 a week... 600 for the yurt ...

they wouldnt dare rip off so if a couple applied....

 sharpening up midwinter spears for hunting   causes.... even if ive finished forever as the last one was the usual personality disorder...

and her bees ...errata beloved dogs.... will forever be poisoned as i was quite prepared to be cheerleader for fun  as wintering witha  REAL cause actually makes you live longer 

Anyway yes where was i ...Tortoise

This needs an elegant few paras, but its worth listening to a for shamania embexzzlemania thats more old hat  - expensive 'cowboy'! than a holey nanaboatee...

but its the way Alexei (i remember ALL my previous refs many are merely quickest aide memoire for my todolist i never need as i care) or is it Guy or whoever narrated...and wrote...

the way they ONLY go for her.... 

like visciously as is appropriate although as weve known about snakey charmers forever it needs far more lampooning jokes....spomeone please tell these under 40s thats the REAL joke 99% of their issues politically are so old hat its daft RAchel CArson wrote about xenobiotics - likely more serious than one of many 'pollutant's co2,  in nineteen sixty two...

so yes her.... and him he is a HAMPSTEAD 'Chiropractor'  like not some EAst End voodoo charm salesman even if the same outcome... (and chopping wood, when your back is KILLING you...and mind bodily getting on with it as you have no choice... my 2006 discovery.. works and is free and does SOMEONE ELSE some good too....between the odd moan)

so in this absurdist Aisle 'chriporacters' well there was a famous one once connected to a real lovely real-sling hooker MAndy Rice dont think it ended well for him...

(i do have local pictures to go with this but later)

even if you are mad to use one  its also mad to think that among rich communities of stupid arrogant old witches they arent venerated...

So Mister C .. that Tortoise often used for story of his FRIEND just how and why was she so wonky....

the whole thing often has input from  him as her main local personal sort of friend...and he is called upon to theorise why she was so wonky blahh di blahh...

Biut he is never asked by anybody: " so you kindof always knew something fishy was afoot and over the years one fiscal black hole after another theres you a respected member of the voodoo elite who think your voodoo is indeed godliness.... but why did you not DO anything.....  help the many women she your buddy was embezzling.... defrauding stealing from...hurting even if it serves em right....  why not one useful word from you...could have at least stopped some of this... ?"

quite astonishing really defo pattern at the Chloe Times..

i see they are planning to capitalise upon even further with a  roadshow about all the crimes of the poor woman...

But when you've got them hook liner and sinker .... nobody ever dares join in wintering fun....

which is actually what GETS you through the winter and makes you live longer....and healthier and mojo-enhances no cash required

just a bit of a scrap now and then...because you can

The Garden of Remembrance....

 

now there is NOTHING more dull than polemic, and all Greens fail to remember my quite good line used for a decade " piety and earnestness, sorry, doesn't work..."

in that only juicy Voltairean nuttiness, Candida stuff (ohh i must to that story soon!..farmer Helen's [2 of 2]  truly evil seditious and extremely rude fanny-focused line,  when she knew full well i was going berserk walking alongside her in the hills in the glorious year of Lord how did this glory happen, me in the hills walking alongside the sexiest farmer of them all, and her lass nag-outfront, and the last thing i wanted to be reminded of was fannies she goes and directs a mad Missprint towards...."maybe it is a scratch and sniff book" only a truly secure country lass can be quite as vicious icebreaker with a  glorious gilded sledgehammer, to crack my nuts )  

to reprise but it matters!

Now even if  one passed on five plus decades of  what it means to be "human" up in hilly or very very aside places, the sweet way... in so many free one-to-one workshops over a  decade , aside in them hills or occasionally on The PAth of embezzlerSSSS ..... (" but dont fuck with me ive walked The Bowery drunk at midnight in the mid 80s when it was dangerous to even get off a few stops before it..lived a bit in Paree... even Belgrade when the bovva boys every one styled on Rambo, owned all the passin splendid totty..... never mind been for six months one of only five whiteys on a very poor blackpeep island.. who would be remarkably cheeky in a rather personal way at the local supermarket checkout.... and thus have learned never to react and just be..unseen... always") .. they wont remeber:

" the point of your intagraammed holiday  you pretend is a long neon clad slog for weeks around some silly Track .... a pilgremage or bucket list item.... infact just an adventure playbook load of plastic toys ..and clothes...... every day exactly to the schedule your step countin' device dictates...is that one may ponder WHAT 'change' you seek....  in the 'environment' you  go and seek it in..... on your Southern dosh ..."

there's no point saying that those fairly content living aside, especially born 'n bred there... not here  - or not often here [this whole PP], except so far one, her....to my absolute shock 'n horror as if saudade had gone and tattooed itself upon her forrid in ink that doesn't poison you drip by drip, from within...especially under the armpits... 

 but real aside where there's far fewer peeps.... is to remember the  conversation one had upon last encounter and  take it forward a tad.... 

never mind fuck me i had forgotten what that FEELS like so lovely 

the impossibility of anyone else (except her, once, remembering what was in an earlier conversation..)

So yes her woodland will be the Garden of Remembrance...in my mental map of my territory i dont need as i merely meander ..mainly, randomly... 

But that's another book, all of it.

One day maybe.

But even if i know all is connected  - the inability to remember or want to remember i guess which is what Miss Anne Thrope eats for breakfast with her goji berries, and Neals YArd yoghurt - as it was obvious 2 decades ago this aint gonna end well as the aforementioned are so expensive theyve no time to recall anything so busy hamsterwheelin' around to get/steal the dosh  to pay for the next new ...thing....

So i'm never bitter but to meet a fine open and funny man, in her Garden of remembrance and pass the time  discussing his daylight robbery vet bills for a monthly injection, [telling him or having the bravery as you canty tell farmers you know better: " ehh the science now knows better, arthritis held at bay by UV AND IR - ONLY UV and IR  give the synovial fluid its superpower evolved job its been doing forever, to munch at Arthur itis.... whicjh ONLY works - is triggered, by being in loads of the aforementioned.." ... donno about your mutt.. but no vet will tell you that.." magnificent man states " yes..i know that too"  and ex hillfarmers even if run out of town... dont lie.

....  such a beefy smokin walking man looking very good for his age.....to champion. Is even better.

Anyway i am only that the hillperson ...JOBS...efficiency 
when many years - maybe 1/4 of my life from age 11, tough jobs in precarious places where nobody will hear you scream if you chop your own finger off accidentally 

one does the odd job but it has to be perfect  - not only ones saftety without a compulsory chansaw cert 

or stupid steeltocapped boots when pumps and dirt

give you feel, and THE DANCE

so as to always be operant

in the field of "time and motion"

is the only way the pigsty gets fixed all alone when even its owner

braggs of her cred

but cant even manage to nail back the roof shelter for her 'beloved' Fakebooked such "high welfare", beasties 

(the real 'case study' to start with, soon) 

Anyway for a 100% pukka TIME AND MOTION, dancin, workperson  - necessary to flow from one bough with saw or billhook

cos the faery goddaughters bought the land dont give a fuck

even about simplest work-'man management' - which means dont nag

unless its part of a joke

I know what the 'flow' is for - have fifty years. To get through the varied jobs with minimum timewaste  per motion...

But even if i hate to admit it, i have an 'eye' 

All my life, for the image that perhaps sums things up

If i could be bothered or had the efficiency of a dektop and predawn socket well i would crop it

the moment i look in side their soul...selling

the same old ... well its just bragging

One day i shall get to my so many real photos of real realism...

and nature.

A series yesteraft of the true beauty of nature LEFT THE FUCK ALONE

this one does need some looking in the other camera store for the video version

which takes time 

and i got millions of these in fact for several years, but ONLY at dawn i have loads of little new dawn clips 

but theyre far more time consuming to work through for anything that DOES need to be censored, though are all universal of this moment now and tomorrow..

just art. 

 

 this one few days ago all that matters is 30-50km a week .... not vg, but some far more Sublime and evocative ones to come soon

But then there's the REAL countryside art...i have a photographic social history, of every 'gib' for 20 years.... poignantly pictured.

Things like how the ..'promises' or verbal contracts are never ever fulfilled .....imagery that says something about this endless Miss Anne stuff...

and inability to know the RULES of how their own land was tended and groomed...for centuries.

in pictures that tell a story ...even if obliquely, just a few verses accompanying, will change...

indeed cause the opposite effect,

 20 years intended.

...ohh lets give her another week....  

soon.