The accidental immigrant

When a kid, he came from not much but dreams, broken, fantastic visions from of gargoyles supporting balconies standing many tests of time.

Now pressed compressed such baroque impressions , as to convey minimum of maximum loss.

Forever loss, Kerouac remembers Proust.

Guy sitting next here star dream bucks lonely as he’ll why not talk glances exchanged couple of days, passed, cannot garner, time, gave him couple of bucks he don’t remember, probably,

The balcony of light, in the second, heart, of Europe then bodies shot by soviet thanks and exodus without far thing to image in.streets littered with human meat bloody headless meat limbless hit by tank shell a boy freedom fighters maybe fifteen. Oh my.

Going back jet plane, booming ,ich been Berliner, at the border new something else may be.another sound boom Dallas massacre, paranoia strikes deep, into your mind will creep

Go back go east old man, with as much as can be carried not more what will they, no she say, after being immigrated to America 50 years only , All is island a lonely companion to a sea born goddess lady liberty standing tall her feet washed by froth like the incrediblescent desire toward an opening of the new beginning…the clothes that you’re wearing. Look at Soros, he did some.

Its useless to tell her, hey, you don’t know everything about America and how AAA can be last resort of contact after last call means you’re the only one left out of the door, or that the great escape comes only once in a lifetime can you wear flowers in your hair , and that to be an individual it is possible to fly on a plane called Jefferson with slick shiny grace as your only GUIDE.

And if he didn’t take the next job that always came around, then wouldn’t no way is be coming home.

Who said you can not go home again, angel?

I’m doing it , and she is as crazy as I am to do it on a she lace after the 20 the nervous breakdown, but holding on, for the little boy adores him, and depends , for papa his daddy is a rolling stone.

Daughter teary eyed cause how is she support him do the 9 to 5 and play with him tell him bed time stories and watch as he tearfully asks for you to play with him?

Says go with heavy heart, to see Diaclitus’ burial ground, so what of it, he is sure gone from there.

Already thinking booze will not lighten it up much, have it here every day for less. They went and torn down the aged family habitat , significant for two hundred years from which the gargoyles have ceased to support the view from the baclone which showed all the colors and scents of the slowly flowing river washing away all that was coming, and gone with the restless wind.

To : To Gogi Grant. the first hit he heard while breezing down Hyannis so long ago on way to library.

Below the afore mentioned the closing circle , the underlying circle of doubt, of acceptance, of the reasons.

What transpired, and What remained before , and the new world, the great doubt , a worthy subject.

Why can’t you not go to the heart of the matter like circling around it like a hungry cat around the bowl of milk, she might have asked with a gleam in your eye? For surely everyone knows the mechanics, but of the specifics , not much in disguise so ready ?

Its nothing less than Cantor’s search for the ultimately resting on the one, the overriding machine , of what more will be said.

Tacitly, with the reassurance that a composure can assure a certain amount of doubt of disassociating the visible from the invisible, which in it’s self, is no simple matter, as a clean cut is supposed to be, but it does present a posture of nuance, a slowly parting of a veil, as it were.

What is entirely extemporanious , the fear of it, the substantially of it. as demonstrative of the difficulty at parting , the knowledge of it as per a functional act of faith, never occurred to him dear reader, therefore he thought he would be absolved of this sin of omission.

He was thinking of his father, and his father, and down the line to the beginning , and now to his offspring, his grandson, having missed with his own son, now tries to fill the dots , in a landscape where the totality , gets closer and still closer, becoming a series of dots, losing boundaries. Interspersed with hidden meanings and outcomes carefully preplanned as though the desired result was presumed.

Is this an attempt to close another chapter in an already overbearing , vacuous background , on a canvas deliberately minutely washed, for effect , while the hidenness covers something going on in the labyrinth, or,
an obfuscation to contain some real or imagined damage? One never knows.

The background and the foreground bleed , into each other , as the ambiguous object becomes either more or less apparent or less significant.

Both, the old world and the new world became projects to be reckoned with,
very early on assuming postures of roomful of grayish steam. for planting a desired balance for a private space, where reticence blended with the minute orgasmic search for the whole.
This was his attempt to search that space, where all dropped from the need for revelation. The masks did not matter , as the posture bled into it and out .

He looked back at him with sorrowful eyes like I was deserting him. He doesent socialize well with other kids. God hoping he doesent turn autistic, and later when he is gone, may be scizotypal.

They have a fear of abandonment. The parents are very laid back. He is very intelligent. He has needs they can not even imagine.

Budapest looms in its manifold brilliance thousands of miles away and he can’t think.

Have an obsessive need to write.

Saturday, 10 am

Budapest appeals to me… but I don’t know why.

There must be reasons. Its becoming a popular tourist destination, may be you heard pdntje upswing in the number of people who visit , or maybe you read about its previous importance as the member of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, oensome other reason.

It is still affordable , and although member of the European Union, or still has not adopted the Euro as its monetary exchange, and the forint gives a lot of value for the buck.

Culturally and in science and the arts, Hungary has given disproportionately
to humanity.

Hope one day you will go there.

She is sleeping covered by shades, starting out on adventure , and hoping it will get closer. Biwacked by the gravity on mundane , and I wish to let her know of such ennui that hits wbweuone of the artificially, of being alive.

There is not much difference difference, though, and between the time of building significant being and mere existential decompression, it hits- hard, that really there can not be difference, where the subtlety of it becomes the function of time, lost on its enormity, based on its non transcendental beginning compression . It just becomes
more and more separated disassociated, and then linearly lengthened.

The cubic changes melt into general wash and that stays , where it suddenly occurs it has been always there, the gravity under impossible pressure, makes is come out on the other side.

Its the same in and out, and reversely out and in.

Budapest

Jet lag, no sleep for days, she decides to go to Zagreb on short notice. Anxiety over identity feel coming a part. What part? If it is its not a real one, for although all the world is a stage here gotta be real. So much unlike US, the boredom and the ennui turned into heisted up, into stratospheric dimensions, stranger in my own land, wherever strange, a stranger, people are strange if you’re a stranger, if you don’t stay where you are for too long , a stranger you become. Wify is sweetly cannibalistic, or be eaten alive, will I leave here as Irene, she became spoofed, she ended her life well almost, until they shipped off to Belleview, she also rose with the son, with drink in hand shaking, the sun rose, also, sharing tequila. No. Absolutely not. Not at all, by all means

Last night a bottle of strong eger bulls blood wine, go there a castle where women dropped hot water on Turks ascending scaffolds by the thousands
Same bulls blood ever where wine from…

I tell her we can check out one thing at a time, Castle Dracula is out, its only a replica anyway, love her or leave her, neither.

Son , on leaving told him, in pretty much the same situation, the customary control, get used to it no leave or stay, the man in the middle tied hands, for move you’ll see, you see. In fact it gets to be sort of routine.

Whirlwind 2 weeks, 1 day of jet lag every time zone, man, the loner, lonesome traveler, cut in , and cut out

As longer can contain to 4 drinks, be ok, for at least for her. She say little dying her grey out, tell her know, the way, toward south if the border .
Make more sense after sleep returns, try no pills.

They look and as if, no, they do not judge. At times ‘they’ do but try seeing as if seeing through.

Some buildings still unrepaired shot through . lots of confusion still, the heavy breath of communism hanging heavy , a better woman who says she liked it better them, no she collects 50 cents for bathroom, says for some who manage to create fortunes, its way better, bit then, there were no people sleeping in alley ways and benches.

1 woman her face buried in her thighs with arms stretched to the sky in utter and sacred trance of fallen angels, living in a payless eternal night one daring young man, gleefully with some measure of profundity drops a coin in. nearly empty straw box.

More to come, catharsis.

She doesent know. The way to it. So she pulls on strings and the grey mare, whipped you know in one square , and then you know,

that no one cares , for it can not think through and although she depends on him, for she does not hear , or think, but knows how to control the animal of love.

You can not know nowadays to love or hate because the element of responsibility is missing.

Fault and responsibility is of no use either, because that grey area is too dark, not like a while before , trust has disappeared in tonality, but has retained it’s color.

Will faint memory of of the patterned outline of shapes, of distant vibrations reveal some sign of intent of good feeling?

The social mileau and trust and security have certainly devolved except among the solidarity of even the underprivileged young, whose voice reverberates with poets of past, especially Jozsef Attilla

Weather turns cold suddenly. Going to Croatia. What happens when it gets cold? Very cold? In the Windows reflections become opeque and the mirrored effects remind of Odillon, supernaturally real.

The winds are hammering trees, need socks, the mirrors in a shop reflect puppets, and lots of socks of different colors, how weather changes mood, puppets, are signs of weakness, of duplicity and dishonesty, when the theatre of the absurd tries to use the same under lying character.

Oh, his is different because they are not

to confuse the one with the many, used contemponeriously, fishing, for a read herring and and an attempt to bait.

Reflexivity begins to move the internal mechanism of the machine, finding the place, where the ennui flies in and out and meet.

Its art, stupid, so obviously transparent, so much less then subtle and some know.

Checkout in an hour, another affordable 3 star hotel. 6 hours to Zagreb by train.

The Heart of Europe: Always has been in the crosshairs of public sentiment, but consequential only to the reactionary way of , as by consequence.

The first world war was an incremental example , where the Archduke Ferdinand, assassinated, was related to a Hungarian woman, of noble birth. His assassination was tangential to the pressure cooker building up, and it manifested as the 2 world wars.

But underneath it the atmosphere seethed with incredible force, that has been building since 1848, and the breakout became violent as it became unpredictable.

It was no accident that what came down was basically unpredictable as it was surprising.

Nationalism , territorial questions , and severe social class considerations were at the heart of it, and pretty much is at stake now, which leaves open the question of what has history thought us, and are we repeating it’s lessons , on account of having not learned them in the first place.

We are certainly at a cross roads, and the position has become much more unpredictable, hence the need for fore control.

This time , the signature key positions are less significant then then the signs, and those who signify , or measure them, therefore the derivations and their sign/significance in terms of their effect, demonstrates the shift toward more authority.

It is a fair accomply, so as to exert maximum pressure , to avoid the repeat of the great world wars, that the intervening sign posts between the late 19th and the late 20th centuries came to encompass.

The compression of these signs, bracketing smaller and smaller ideograms, is building a similar decompressing public domain consisting with receding rather than proceeding information flow, hence the duly interface of technical enhancement.

That such is necessary, is demonstrated by the cognitive compression of cognitive mass realization, and how right are they, who describe democratic functions of education as faulty at best.

It is of no accident that the heart of Europe be a.fledgling captures captured and caged within a radically compensated and hugely distended cognitive capacity, whereby the Austro Hungarian Empire has contributed vastly and disproportionately to easy the growth of uneven resamblwnce dessamblence with and without significant perimeters.

The stage is set between Democratic and non democratic institutions , by means of a nominally reduced translation, where only a pseudo Kantian-Marxian interpretation will mitigate the Heglelian- modus operans reduction.

Heaven forbid, the need of a new Sartre to re-demonstrate this movement again.

The wheels are churning a river of many under lying levels , and the need to become real, is of tantamount from both sides. Whether this can be done at this stage, now, or minor skirmishes skirmishes can depower the will of those whose hearts have closed the avenues of reason as compassion, is tantamount my first reaction to the fall pdntje Soviet Union as the coming of increasing instability caused by the loss of a sustainable ideology.

He ideology at first a sustainable Kantian synthesis turned pragmatic wait and see, again, some new formed synthesis(collusion) on an yet unimaginable level as a function of many in and outputs, this is the strength of a constructed idealism, which slowly subtracts the Marxian material element back to Hegel, or the abyss Nietzhe talks about, bypassing the brief existential epoche.

Thought up in some think thank, a long time ago, perhaps as early as soon after the demise of the Soviet Union.

Lets see what happens onto-philosophically.

Nuances of identifiable traits come through the formality of general expectations , pitting substantial substantial partial identifiable forms in an abstract cubic.

Whereas everyone is expecting a definitive outlook, -the remnants of a social support of the bygone social welfare state.

If not identifiable then the suspense -suspension. Is never ending, but is cut
into the partiality , internally, while a differential impartiality is displayed.

The modern benefits , serving some self interest.