Take my head breath off away ~ (O enemies of SpinozadeSade) and my headideas jump around ... verse-breaths .... Of thinking and thought. ...(SpINoZa with a lampshade... a whip~ O O SoPHia you Wonderous Bitch! (out of nowhere) Miller's Hamlet Letters.... and the thought makes me reflect., to wonder, what's the passing over? the bridge from one idea to another? A man smoking? A woman gyrating in bed, another giving birth. Two others inviting me for dinner. what trouble speaks the name philosophy. Two bodies fucking, three rutting, a train gathering speed. A hyperwarrior pondering resurrection theories, gnostic glasses, and chinese checkers.
So then the 120 enemies of Spinoza __ Jill's manner of living. A geologian cracks the whip! a masochist obscured in gifs and furs. A blonde hiding out in her lampshade. Perhaps a woman anally concealed in wrapped gloves. Or oraments named oil, acrylic and papier mâché. whatis love and shit if not the vomit that spews back at the dog returned to its own puke. How does a period end a question.
(Echoes naturally of DeSade O sad!Sade)
Nietzsche, I 'm quite certain calls philosophy a woman, and so bring your whip! O you Hooters!
In any "Event" to the postilion posting .
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One they fucked their wayright past Rembrandt's digs. forgetting the rest. came. home. got food went to bed reading Plato.
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