Now one can adopt pompous words like 'profound', 'the sublime'; and anyone who uses "wild grace" needs a long swim in 5 degrees *
c
sea
Not by me
as I merely pity
Of course the worst modern day
form of 'hate'.
"pity me....moi!"
Now, one of the many things that has been stolen is being French.
Though they stole it themselves starting fourty years ago with all the 'sportif' attire.
(we me and Les Grens would mock a little then " ohh its so ugly and inhuman" Eurpope was almost perfect but not entirely)
I see or have seen is now compulsory all over London-on-Sea
Everywhere they aren't any"thing" unless seen with the latest fancy expensive running titpouchy thing in which to keep their apps and keys i guess.
Though a few days ago the one displaying " Everest marathon" on her ugly running vest thingumy - very clean i noticed so likely she bought a job lot so as she could carry on defing herself by that past event, all her future-life, really did take the gold medal.
For what i do not know.
As actual change is rather good.
But all of life one word i banned was art
A household of mine yoof addicted to art - to what?
show off, define? I aint stupid even if art seems to make you a bit stupid and oppress all around the fringes
Art of course is a testament to a fairly groovy 'intelligence' compared to nags or ferrets - though if you live with the latter over many years. I mean live - let them be all over your lounge and lass for years... you know they have their own unique beingness
But why ban 'art' as a word in my head, or from trickling out of gob, for all my life until about 55ish..?
because...
Well, mainly because artISTS of mine acquaint, were always so unhappy....
And certainly always had a painted on patina of something wonderful they couldnt even see the light of day, through
Which is terrible hurried 10-minutes of battery left, not-profound extemporisation just to remind myself that being on the cliff edge is really all there is - keeps you alive
And ...
(being ignored is also literally the most powerful artful jab up the bum there is in a good way infact it should maybe be called the light triad.... what was i listening to lastereve? something i must put it in the chronicle about how the 'energy workers' are the last of the snake oil lot to yet be outed as ...
Another day - planned for several months, i have the data)
no camera at dawn can ever ever capture the actual art of getting to this dawn, and somehow the world wide drowning in fotos ...
Well, Thomas Bernhard predicted it in his magnum opus ultra rant which works as art as it makes you squirm
“I despise people who are forever taking pictures and go around with cameras hanging from their necks, always on the lookout for a subject, snapping anything and everything, however silly....
it continues ..
But then as i think i am the only person who in London-on-sea actually sits for a few hours in the sun and reads a real book ...
whats the point as reading long unsweetened books is the point
Art ... the 'art' of, remaining a little arty farty within... when you see how 99.99% of ex city smiles are so so completely painted on.... however
To be able to extemporise at the cliff yestereve and even have her, superboots, linger .... chatting with a tramp - they begin to move off, it is a London-rehearsed act probably learned in childhood.... " i cannot profit knowing him, [or her i guess] .."
I was very almost shy until a decade ago, and i didnt go on any 'course' or follow any 'guru;' I'm such an arrogant cunt I've never followed anyone in my whole life, ..no one ever, and the one greatest poet is only just about tolerated as a presence in humanity perhaps as he doesnt open his gob very much as i never met in face-to-face life any 'artist' with anything actually profoundly human to say... never mind their act for the cameras...
But the art... of keeping her ... wild eyes.. gaze.... something deeper.... lingering at the cliff edge yesters...
the art of ... 'relating'
yet another sop
for cash and clicks, sorry sad but true
actual 'relating' is forged out of the real heavy metals used in her lance aimed right between my eyes... and smelling bad, too.... when previously world expert at always being ahead of that irrelevent game of, what passes for 'one of us'
