“In reality, nothing really changes.”
Sets up pausing, structure of prose poetry
-also idea of constant that is broken- without change in regard to what- a more massive concept- ennui or lulling adulthood and routine
-research | exploration of an abandoned building or city or new place as foreigner
-desire to know and it [the place]’s own desire to be itself. Society, like a haunted place - or a shut room, often wants to be let alone- all the while being| inviting waves of human interest.
‘concentrated’ ‘clear’ ‘lost’ like a flurry of atoms within a desk and the navigation of Miss Frizzle amongst them- schoolchildren aren’t supposed to be in desks
probably shouldn’t be on desks in Brazzers videos
it wasn’t sexual when they into the human body or a volcano or a hurricane.
It was explorative research for learning
like an expat within
their new community
an urban exploration site
the apartment building of artists and stoned musicians
‘grey’ ‘dusty’ ‘old newspapers’ (out of order, me not them)
‘history’ ‘rubble’ ‘pillars’
clearly a building- he said it, but I see not
that, but a city- the whole place
as with boundaries like walls that
guard the border or just the edges
of social situations and shops when one
doesn’t know the question or answer or language between
is too high too climb- especially when high-
which at least some or all the time we all most are- so questions and shops
and bakery treats and whatever
go unanswered and unboughten
and out our ears goes one word
and in comes only the hush of half
another- are these the pillars
rebuilt by women after the war?
stuffed with news of
dead men- are dead men the creature
-grey- you imagine
tentacling you from the corners and while paranoia _____ from the ceiling
did you know that some people don’t feel paranoid- and would describe the feeling of being watched called their own good sense of watching out for themselves or if they are like my Catholic mother- St Christopher- once I read a story online- read probably fake- so I’m telling you a lie knowing- about a car accident and the only injury of the driver- no mention of passengers- Jesus is my co-pilot or others- is a cut on their brow from a pendant of St Christpher that flew off their visor and broke the skin above their eye- let there be blood- the walls of crushed cars- like the walls of cities or minds- elastic and given in to pressure from external sources
Mention of the ‘Schaff S’ which when I read this for the first time said silly and had all these grammatical errors like did before a past tense and capitals which I took not as purposeful but defiant. Except when I woke up this morning and read it again they weren’t there. This seemingly is a user error.
Anyway on I, even though I just stated II, a brief interlude- we never learn about the ‘building’ ‘city’ ‘self’ or whatever metaphor I’m building with someone else’s words- and with no permission or incitement of theirs, but because it was on the invisibly signed contract of the internet and I am American and thus related to the sisterhood of the NSA I took it upon myself to not only read (read watch) but create my own file. You’re welcome- but since the text offers no questions and I offer no real answers besides unfounded thoughts - which could refer to the whole state of critical analysis- the believability is in cited notes and assumptions- but anyway the unknown narrative ‘occult’ ‘esoteric’
there is no finished thought here- we never find anything out from the author- we like the author are a stranger in a strange land- we have no further information to go on and must only wander and come to our own conclusions- beliefs in our assumptions- the author merely in time out of time just goes for beer with his colleagues and brings jokes
this is familiar, but the building city country is not familiar- it could be with more research, but just yet there is nothing- we are only using our old basis our own ideas and past to understand what is before us.
His food is described as though by a vegetarian or an anorexic. ‘putrid’ ‘haphazard’ ‘skewer’ ‘undulating’ - makes one think of sex- ‘wobbling’ and later ‘murdered’ meatglory’
one or this author is hardly surprised that that author was sick from the ‘living shells’ ‘hot innards’ and the new community that held an uprising as ‘revolutionary and dirty’ as the author had mentioned himself with animal on his face. For either the vegetarian or the anorexic such food is foriegn, is a ‘new community’ - again stranger in a strange land - one that must be purged or digested (read assimilated) but that sounds too Deutscher in Deutschland or for the culturally relevant French in France- so maybe that author felt repelled by the building city foriegnness like his stomach against the new community of ‘putrid’ ‘revolutionary’ meat.
Kebab as author as rejected revolution
When Magical Realism Steps in as Rocks
how this thought about a story that is not mine by a person that did not ask me to read or write anything became a selfishly subjective talking to itself is the question of objectivity and original content. am i inspired or additive or usingly connected or compounding. it’s like the scene in the Departed when the undercover department asks if Leonardo DiCaprio knew what they did in their department and upon saying yes it was basically calling them cunts. similiar to that scene these thoughts are only loose rememberings of quotes that fit my own thoughts. this author claims no real understanding about that author, but yet. here we are.
Magical Realism. Rocks do not rise up on their own.
Or so dictators thought of their masses of people
these rocks too are dirty revolutionaries that pelt the ‘local’ (read German or at least more local than an expat) family that are having a heimlicher moment of being at home within themselves and their lived and their apartment and their ability to drink beer [being caught with almost any alcohol in your system has disastrous effects on your driving record if caught by police] while the author who has been in the un-home of the abandoned building, city, self is outside the familiarity of home- is the rocks that rise up against their familiar staying down and drive the locals inside to protect themselves from the intrusion against physics and external sources.
the outside comes inside
or at least forces you inside
one the home family is confronted with what they do not know
and they go inside
while the neighbor the author the stranger in a strange place
watches a fly that flies in straight lines and likes this new world where things are changed and new and what is home is foreign and anything can be beautiful if you look at it the right way
observations from the bucket: http://newscenario.net/#joseph-hernadez