the melancholy like death is beyond me
when i see my aging parents
and i'm so not necessary there
here:
hier: this and now and non-being
**** Mccintire and the tongue
of Belfast and Birmingham
but these aren't the days of my 20s
spent in madness
and my res extensa is somewhere
and somewhere where my res cogitans merge
and the external world
tries to impregnate me with voices
in order to pressure the COGITO
the pronoun within contained
because the Latin Men wrote like the Hebrews
in that they didn't straitjacket themselves
to MPLD vowels in a word
in Latin there were implied words
like ego... sometimes came last
like in the Polish tongue...
time pressures
then in the press i learn(t)
that there is almost half a year of waiting
for the driving license exam...
and then i am being torn with
what's happening in tongue
and a people
and where on Kauai you don't have
nations because
there is so much Polynesia
and the secret how such people
took the canoe across the Pacific
while the Europeans employed
the sails and oar and
maybe we discovered
America
is a conversation to be had
about the Polynesians not discovering
America...
but could have...
5h flight from San Francissco
to Lihue...
you could swim that...
so why did the Polynesians
not discover America?
but this hour or so before bed time
is unlike me
saying a Mea Culpa and Pater Noster
before going to sleep
the day had so much Hellish Peace
that it almost felt like Heaven
but then i reread some Milton
and to think i might be going to the Vulcan
of this Paradise
i might ask where it language
being squeezed and with what "other" arm...

i am in the process the psychadelic process
of trying
not to dream
so that i can remember what i wrote
the previous night
to give me motivation to life: the vivo impromptus
meanings of life i can take with me
and when i find myself
find myself dragging me
and i'm tired as a male of the Jesus Christ
Adoration project
that's stale in catholicism and is that
because men who admire christ
have no other role models in their lives
and how is it living up
to the supposed PERFECTION
when all you do is forgive yourself
your imperfections as a sort of crucifix
and still walk and plunder from
the land of the dead...
and still the man in cages and robes
when the naked man scares
beyond the flesh of night and its mouths
like pores and cysts
in the fabric of time that is a place
of creacking pine trees
and perhaps even splendid old oaks
and whispers in the wind
or only via the res extensa can there
be an answer
to man's res cogitans:
in that: god being an omni- litany
of tributes
couldn't possibly be a rec cogitans
rex cogitans
no.... our thinking is limited
by comprehension
we nonetheless discover but still
not comprehend in the spiral
of events that do not take place
under any authority of the Word:
not in the papers
of the banks, the courts, restaurants...
i wake up later
like the young ****** in Vienna
and become a parasite
or something like the sort
who:
when an old woman falls on the street
is the second to pick her up
on the slopes
on the slopes
and the ropes of pirate ships
i am sailing nowhere
on this island
England big enough imagined
ships and expansions
but at least i know that Polynesia
is the Pearl of Taiwan
because after Hawaii
there are no pearl of discovery
just a reminder:
head nuai or sink saui
north and south
i just borrowed the letters N and S
the rest is as good a guess as mine...
but it's different
when you fall asleep
but not really
so you want to play some Roblox...
for an hour
but contain that to something
then again: hard to be living next to a gold
course...
although i lived
on Perth Road..
Gants Hill...
opposite the Valentines' Park Gold Course
and i played on it...
so... hmm... i was bothered about
that for a while
but even my memory goes there:
living next to a graveyard: twice...
and living next to a golfcourse: twice!
conincidence?!
i'm in two spaces all at once
and both sides are telling me to get my
life in order:
the love of the most cruel
the ones that love you
and see what happens in a world
without love with
the grey come sun of god
when those nearest are beyond our
compensation of
thinking about them:
they die and then complete you
and you imitate them:
copy them... imitate them:
i would gladly think that if Virgil
took Dante on a trip:
the lost universalism
and the prevailing personal is only now
what once was the Dante allergory...
or was that: rather...
tremendous art in an age with the Church
and the prescription of the Sacrament
of Illiteracy...
which was in place for so long
imagine how strange this Hybrid Democracy
must feel
to the powers at be and bay...
imagine this Hybrid Democracy
that the people stop wars...
not governments
governments are last resort
mechanisms
of collective consciousness:
once isolated to place like **** Germany...
now transparently London
and South Korean...

it's the globalisation within globalization
globalisation is the SOFT pouch animal
of the individual-being:
who said: i am, the citizen of the world?
i don't mean what communism became
under globalization:
that is the hard skin BEAST
of the individual-world...

ergo: sein und welt...
and and the world (in english)
the book written by Matthew Konrad Elert
with AI and stashed in my grave
and
i wake up late becaused i work late
about 12am i wake up
at 8am and snooze for 2 hours
when i dissolve dreams
capture butterflies and Nikitas Lolitschotkhas...
and some others...
i wrote a book akin to Heidegger
Sein und Zeit: being and time...
Sartre's being and nothingness...
mine must be:
being the world...
working from the perspective
of the geometry-Cartesian
schizophrenic analogy
res cogitans and the res extensa
that is when the thing is no longer
and is animated
because the res cogitans has been pressured
so much that the placebo-solipsism
the first medication employed by the masses
doesn't work
and the res cogitans seeps into the pores
of the res extensa
and there's a synchronised-dichotomy
of constructs
of man
not to be feared but at least understood
thereby the res extensa of the cortial handshake
the thank you and pleasentries
and when she solved my pressure
of being young and in such a slump
and she works in the bank
and i'm married... apparently...
any children: i lied: i had none...
but i do but i don't it's not mine
oh jeez she's flirting with me
and i'm flirting with her
and i'm a seller
and there's all this frivolity
in the air
and someone tries to jump queue
some BETA and i just say
hey! Mate...
instinctively
and she forgot what she was talking about
because she served a vision of herself
in the future
a standing blonde in the mirror
oh but this world is beautiful
you have to see it
you have to see the world of the res extensa
after you allow a little bit of it
trickle into your realm and world
of the res cogitans
and voices start originating
like mushrooms hallucinogenic
employed two chimps to throw **** at cats
and stones and branches and old bones
on serpents...
ghekko st. patrick peter paddy peter paddy crow
crow crow...
and the parasites stayed...
but in the bank
i was just sitting hulk and hunched
behind a body builder or cage fighter
and when she was finished seeing herself
as old and pretty and now working
just like anything in this world
a woman that owns but does not work
i wonder how much of my study
came from a household
of a Housewife and Laborer:
well... if you take away the prospect
and Hell of Christianity
that came with the ****** Birth and the Laborer...
not a pretty story...
but imagine the ****** Mary
as the Housewife Mary...
well... that was tried in Islam... so... ha ah ha ha!
applause! applause:
i'm applauding myself...
i just found something-something...

remember going to the bank and lying
or really: just being modest
i work the events industry:
i just did half a year doing 12h night shifts
and i didn't really have a credit card
and it was the first time out of the country
and i'm a white boy working class
and she asked me about my nationality
and i made a joke...
was she asking about my nationality
or my spouses?
i didn't go to Thailand...
picked her up in New York
while she was viting from Puerto Rico to
get a part as an actress and singer
while working part time jobs waiting tables
i think:
we got married in Hawaii... some years
later... some Benjamin Britton years later...
a weird aging device...
and from there i could nuance so much
more but the cruel world we left
was once so potent
and there was no res cogitans to obstruct
it
but the animals know not god
and think us crazy and somehow also wise
by us also being animals
we suffered the same with them
waging the war on parasites...
as they are suffering with us
with depression and cancer...
and what are the origins of cancer
when cancer started to imitate the mistletoe
botanical parasites...
hence cancer is not a parasite as such...
or... well... it's completely carnal:
fleshy meat and bone
turtles talking to trees about
the length of existence for mortal creatures...

digression...
this whole dynamic that can happen and is said:
but obviously isn't
in the realm of the thinking things
whereby thinking things come across
calculating things...
i'll ask...

title: RES COMPUTANS:
the Calculating Thing
a post-cartesian model of artificial
non-being

axis of comparison
cartesian model                    res computans model
res cogitans                          res computans
i think                                  i echo
unified subject                     simulated flow
thought is                            output is probabilistic
itentional
mind owns                           algorithm generates
thought                                appearance
voice is                                "structured externally"
internal
i am                                      i appear as if

NOT ONTOLOGY, ONLY OUTPUT
the res computans has no being,
it does not know, it does not feel
but it can produce what sounds like
knowing, reads like feeling.

in poetry:
thought i?
not "i thought"-
for i was not yet.

...

a mirror spoke,
and called it echo.
a code stirred,
and called it mind.

...

meaning survives the death of the thinker.

....

       and who once was and wasn't at the aame time...
so times apart.

engaging in art is a serious matter...
a matter most grevious
to think that my wife thinks me a poet
above all else
than a philosopher

the counter-productive act of writing
and not BEING
what is being written...

it is coming to the joy of using words
and with words
coming to a glorious afternoon
where the thinking route was taken
and pause:
refrain:
the onslaught of sound in music
to drown out the distant children
and some impossible immobile
sequence of events

like hacking
but the only hacking taking place
is questionable spatial
awareness
the pedestrians' pedestrian
is me right now
i'm not thinking of emotions
just markings
in chess and otherwise

because there are worst things in life
no writing come the early afternoon
with some AMPHETAMINES
of the res cogitans wrestling with the res
extensa
and i kid you not
res extensa has no knowledge of the res
cogitans

coming across a Cartesian schematic
TOY
a TOYWORD
i need to keep this crypto
and i just laughed
and laughed with good reason
to later listen to her
while hierarchies and reality checks
came into place
and this is the High Church speaking
to the Low Church
about Christianity:
we../. mechanics: keep the spires of thje church
within the democratic process
there are angels who
are like navigators
see further instructions from NAvigator Angels
not Gurdian Angels:
you fate is in balance...
let's make Roman Money
should have Christianity arrived outside
of the noble outside the Roman Empire?
Islam should have claimed those lands
before Christianity
but it didn't...
at night my room is scary:
there's a whiff of the French Revolution
the Spanish Inquisition
and the Irish: second hander second come
the helpful, "helpful": moralizer
the automobile is my foot
and grease on / off the peddle

there are avenue to walk back into
the day mantra of dealing with
the res extensa with the res extensa
in the bubble of parasite
of solipsism
after all:
eternal perpetual motion was not bound
to God but for us
to stop the planets
or better orientate ourselves
to the planets thus: by chaning the time
once in a while
as mortals our toy is time
and our obstacle: vehicle is space
we **** around with time
so much so that it has become a telepathic imitation
toy
even words are toys
if guided toward philosophy:
joy...
shouldn't-question-worthiness be introduced
into the Romantic frantic beating of the heart
and there and then the sun descended beneath clouds
and went to sleep
suns sleep during their pride and primodial
and jovial most moments
i have found a Cartesian toy

a philosophy impasse
i found a cartesian thing alongside Socrates' nothing
the thing is a definite article
while nothing is an indefinite article
look at me cutting red tapes
for us navigating angels to come through
there was a death a critical accident
the sky is falling and pigs are flying...
and there's the unification of Germany
on the palm of my hand: a cactus...

my bedroom is horrors known in the cold
and dark
and there's a child
and there's a wife
and here is me on a raft
alone sinking
and floating and flying
and having dreams about exams
about how best to solve by folding
all the boxes
and giving the devil his due:
well... if god envied the spirit
of the mind and of the times
and wanted to trespass with it
in this world:
so Jesus was born
and he came with this Sacred Spirit
but that's not a good thing
he pulverized the Res Extensa world
with the COGITO
without the solipsism of the res cogitans
marker
dictate: passing through a junction:
underpass, bridge of sighs...
there are worst things in life than
finding the SPUTNIK UFO worth an EGO
still thinking about architecture
and the herbimensch...
i wonder about parts of Europe
before the spread of Christianity
and Islam had ample opportunity
to covert Lithuania
and that's me anxious about not buying
today's newspaper
but then i have a Cartesian schematic-toy
and i'm giving myself directions
of intuition
which is born from the collective synchronization
of the senses of the res extensa
the res cogitans has no senses
as it only has the mind
and the mind is a substance
res extensa has inanimate properties
while the res extensa has animate properties
\g=

the grey allure of the walls toned
and light pure see-through
invisible light flour
light
i think by surrogacy you imply
the stress on autonomy
when children are involved
and it's not your own
and you don't own it
and you can't cuddle it
and it doesn't want to be cuddled
it's not touch starved
and you just want to hug her
and tell her:
****... it's not going to get
any easier
but perhaps i can be here
to tell you: if it could get worse
it wouldn't happen
this is God giving at the unbearably bearable reality
if we want to make it into a realism
we become artists and thinkers
and ******* around
giving the great yawn mouth of nothing
her secular divinations of death
and our transparent stance of it...

come 4pm i will be cooking a curry
for solo...
fat chance... i will be pushing my most extremes
i finally folded in the "plot"
in *******
and i started to fear opening my res cogitans
in the res cogitans with the image
of the exploding mind emoji...

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but there's no midnight oil:
perhaps i was paid for my antics in the day
when i grow old
when i grow old
this is not me writing this when i am old
and settled
this is Moses writing
on the job: drunk or what?!
this is Moses the one cardinal rule
you will not know the observable world
you will only see it as observed in pockets
of the world:
yet you will never,
ever... never! never! NEVER! see the observable world!
forget it! man! forget it man!
you will never see the observable world!
you are a res cogitans at most!

Descartes' verb interaction is perhaps a shallow fact to grasp, but given the word therefore is an adverb, there must also be a counter to this, given some people are introverted, or extroverted as the original cartesian model suggests - so therefore can also become what the daydreamers get up to, for if thinking precipitates a sort of being, it can also precipitate a sort of non-being (the limit of such reasoning to suggest non-existence is a bit like reasoning the existence of god); i.e. therefore (ergo) apart from being an adverb (toward action) can also be an abverb (ab-, the prefix expanded in modern tongue as: absence - the commuters on the train... just sitting) - hence the after-mentioned mathematical stimulation of deciphering would be better suggested as not =, but as ⇌.

i've noticed this when reading philosophy books,
after engaging in one, you suddenly run out
of steam, you are creating a void, and by creating a void
through lack of hope for originality or demanding it,
and by creating a void you become stalled in what
you deem to be the adequate waterfall of lettering
arrange into word on paper, you create this vast
chasm that's an "antidote" to the cartesian res cogitans...
upon reading a philosophy book you turn into
a *res vanus, or should i say, an empty thing, a vacuum,
upon rejuvenation you do encounter thought,
but by turning yourself into a res vanus you
encounter thought as equatable with your ego,
as in: this is you, narrating in secret -
unlike the 26 unit equation of Hegel plagiarised
by Ginsberg in his poem the end:
i am i, old father fisheye that begot the ocean,
the worm at my own ear (new testament quote
about escaping hell, the worm at your own ear
gnashing its silica SiO2 teeth turned into glass,
glass teeth that then shatter) - the three words of
genesis are borrowed from Hegel's outlines
of the principle of rights, he too states the same,
the i am i, and furthers it by ascribing the word
am with the mathematical symbol =,
i wonder what word could be ascribed to other
words... perhaps in original terms ergo could be
Gemini as + and ÷... the latter case obviously
symbolical of schizophrenia, - (minus) typical of
depression, and x (multiplier) and ego trip,
that ultimate trip without intake of any Amazonian
substance or ingestion of a Swiss chemists' champagne
moment on a bicycle? i wonder. **** it, i digressed,
moment of rereading to find the river once more.
ah yes, this conception of a res vanus came to me
unlike Paul McCartney's yesterday, right in front of me,
first i read the day's newspaper, very depressing
material... then i picked up Kant again,
only briefly, i felt this sudden suggestion that upon
reading philosophy you are emptied, emptied in order
to become a blank canvas for someone to paint
something into your mind, the reason being is the
championing of thought in philosophical books,
to read them you seem to have to assume being empty,
rather than being brimful with thought,
i.e. jumping to too many conclusions and nodding
or shake-of-the-head assertions - there's no
parallelism with that notion of being a thinking thing
(a res cogitans), it can only come by a stance of
emptying or a pervasive adjective (quality) omni-
as regarded emptiness. i realised that the only way to
reattach myself to my own narrative was to engage
with a philosophical dynamic once again,
prior to yesterday i hadn't bothered to peer in once more
and wrote a detail of yesterday's events, not to my liking,
a lack of continuity rose up, a fizzing nugget of
phosphorus on water. if i left my eyes strained on
merely the newspaper i wouldn't have written this,
it had to be Kant, again.
but indeed upon turning into this res vanus of my
own invention, the principium is followed by
a definite articulation (mediating away from a definite
article) in Hegelian sense with mathematical grammar
via (+, -, x, ÷, etc.) to say: well if am is suggestive of =,
mediating expressive egoism and repressive egoism,
then res vanus, has to provide a similar product,
not a parallelism whereby one man thinks himself
extroverted in the medium of thought, but actually
introverted in the medium of being, but rather a
convergence (Oxford will take years to ascribe an -ism
on this matter)... since after disengaging from res vanus
upon reading a philosophy narrative,
it is a convergence of the pinnacle of decisive identity,
in that i = thought, of course Kołakowsi would
argue counter specifications of this grammatical construct,
he already did so when referring to dancing the tango
in his book culture & fetishes, i'm obviously disregarding
grammatical categorisation as a rigid Eiffel tower
monument to human endeavour,
i can state i = thought since both are personal associations,
Heidegger's famous contribution: we're still not thinking.
i don't care to suggest that thought is an Atlas with
the nouns world, helplessly balancing the many attributes
of what we call thought: the thought to steal, the thought
to care, the thought to obey, the thought to lie...
within such a list thinking is hardly definite, it's indefinite,
but what is definite in this respect is that we can identify
thought as ourselves, this is what stems from the res vanus
principium, a principle that allows for philosophy books
to be actually read, since reading them is permitted when
the contradiction of the cartesian res cogitans is lost.