This is the post excerpt.


Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. 

Dialogues with the Self

Isolated, marooned, despondent, me a piece of shit. The world and its wishes smile bitterly at me. I sink in my wretched abyss disappointed. Am I schmuck of disaster, noble of countless mishaps? Forge my soul in the shit of hell. God and the Devil are ruthless metaphysics. Lady luck brings woe to me. I feel like committing suicide. I see Camus waving at me and saying things will be alright. Is it my delusion or is it real? Sex is a dead prison. My wife a Pentecostal bitch never opens her thighs to me. When can I have the poetry of lyrical intimacy? When will sex become a poem of lyrical beauty? When will a woman become warm hearted and tender to me? When will she make me open to her orifices? Angst plagues my soul like a psychopath. The bitch of a wife has locked me in the asylum many times. My ego is so deflated. I am locked up in the asylum of defeatism. The grace of God is so ironic. Why did you die for my sins? I don’t need redemption. I need to taste the relish of Epicureanism. Why do you close all doors for me? I am carrying the cross of a wretched life. Sometimes I wish to be shed of life and be a still-life statue. Devil, you are a mocking penis. Why can’t covetousness be a virtue? The world of values is a carnival. When will the rites of ecstasy shed her lady luck on me? Me a being? Amazing! Metaphysics is a pile of muddy water. Transcendence is a hyperbolic cunt. Dissolve the consciousness that is in my body. Sodomize it with a poem of beauty. Bitch wife, I have so much love to give and yet you don’t want an iota of it. Bitch wife, you have made me sick in the mind. God is a fucker who closes the doors of temptations. My soul is a whimsical butterfly. Eros is tranquilized death. Bitch wife, all I want is a caress, a kiss, a hug and you fucking bitch you deny it. I have stopped reading astrology. Karma is warped in the neurons of an angstual plague. You fucker be kind to yourself. Give your heart the freedom to love. Don’t blow your soul to smithereens of existential shit. Nirvana, I have found you perched on wings. When the present is bleak, how can I anticipate a bright future? What a joy can sex bring? I long for you darling. Yet you are so far away. When can we make love like the old times? Passion is the ocean of ecstasy. When can I resurrect my body with sex? God, you are so kind to me that you keep my pocket empty. If I was in your place, I would have been tempted by the devil. My wife is a slut of boredom. Every day the bitch kneels and cries before you. God you have denied me so much in life.


The demented astrologer says this is a period of trials and tribulations. Why cast your shit on me, you poltroon. Venus shits in Mars and Neptune urinates in Leo. Fortune smiles with a fart. Tarot you are anal agonies. Why the fuck can’t you draw luck to me? Why blaspheme my soul with shroud of obscenities that make me withdrawn from the world. Astrologers are fucking shit holes. Psychics are assholes. Tarot readers are motherfuckers. Yes the moon is on the ascendant with a big bum. Sun is a shitting ball of white in the commode of Jupiter. Woe to you, I hate you all motherfuckers.


God! Do you have to be virtuous and so pious? Why make me feel ashamed with the concept of sin? What good is life if life on earth is a misery? I become repentant, yet you are not kind to me. Why mock at me with goodness? Why can’t you tolerate my inequities? Why can’t you grace my fortunes? I am not the nails that have crucified you. I am not the hands that have been washed in public proclaiming that you are innocent. I did not betray you with thirty pieces of silver. I have not liked the wife you adorned me with. When you say that: I am the way: truth and the life: it makes no sense. I have searched my within and found an abyss of angst. David committed adultery and yet you forgave him. Since 2013, I have been living with a bitch of a wife in a rut. Lord why don’t you feel pity for me? Is there room in your heart for the fruit tender kindness? Have you forsaken me forever to live in my misery? God, I am heartbroken, weary and tired with the ways of men and with you. Solace is an existential worm.

God is Kind To Me

God is kind to me is an ironic, hyperbolic idiom bequeathing misfortune, bad-luck, sadness, a pathos of literature. When it comes to windfall gains: God is kind to me. March has been a month where God has been kind to me. I smile at God being kind to me pathetically. Things don’t seem to go right with me and God has been kind to me. I feel so wretched and God has been kind to me.

Analysis of Homer’s Odyssey through Neologisms

Homer’s classic Epic—Odyssey belongs to the cannons of Greek Literature. Odyssey is a description of the return voyage of the epic hero Ulysses after the Trojan War. He is faced with insurmountable problems with the sea God Poseidon being against him. At home in Ithaca there are various suitors who are greedy for his Penelope. He is successfully able to overcome all the problems and slay the suitors competing for his wife. Here I would like to analyze the Odyssey using newly coined neologisms.
Meta-Psychosis is a condition where Gods and Goddesses intervene in the fate of man. In the book we counter various aspects of meta-psychosis. Let’s look at the anger of Poseidon on Ulysses causing him to be ship-wrecked. Then there is Goddess Athena who pleas to Zeus so that he might be rescued. We encounter the hero being caught by the wiles of the nymph Calypso and Circe. Meta-psychosis in a modern context applies to humans who are subject to the fate of their destiny.
Demo-anarchism is coined from democracy and anarchism. In the state of Ithaca presuming the death of the protagonist there are a number of suitors competing to gain their hand in marriage of Penelope. This can be classified as the existence of demo-anarchism. Penelope takes a bold stance and evades the wishes of the suitors. The Trojan War was a war fought on democratic grounds and it can be compared to the Gulf War where America freed Kuwait from the hands of Saddam Hussein. The decision made by the God Poseidon not to favor the journey of Ulysses is also a state of demo-anarchism.
Paradoxis is a peculiar trauma faced by Ulysses when he is ship wrecked and stranded on various islands. He faces the condition of being in paradox of being human and being God. Yet he remains steadfast in his faith to be loyal to Penelope and to return to the island of Ithaca. When confronted by Calypso and Circe he is successfully able to evade their temptations by the intervention of Gods. Paradoxis also refers to the conflict of Gods weighing down on the fate of Ulysses.
Meta-colonization is a symptom of Gods being colonialists and interfering with the life of the hero. The wrath of Poseidon and the ship-wrecking of Ulysses all point out the birth of colonization in a metaphysical sense. The whole history of European colonization has its birth in the poem. We find the character of the actor in the poem to be democratic, seeking the pursuit of democracy by the strength of character.
Mytho-poesis is the characterization of the web of the super-natural and natural elements into the craft of poetry. Ulysses faces a mountain of problems while on his journey back from Troy. Some of the problems are created by Gods to test the character and strength of Ulysses. The poem Odyssey is intensely subjective and bears the catharsis of poetic subjectivity.

Analysis of Bertrand Russell’s Problems of Philosophy

Appearance and Reality
Russell questions the absoluteness of knowledge and the discernment of the problem in Philosophy.
What is the distinction between appearance and reality? Things which are known by perception are labeled as sense data. The collection of all physical objects is called matter.
Russell quotes the Philosopher Berkeley who said objects do not exist outside the senses. This I think is a deception. Objects exist independently of the senses and come into purview if we are cognizing or perceiving them.
Russell describes the problem of appearance as being philosophical. Is the reality of seeing a thing real? What happens to appearance when we approach its microscopic or macroscopic composition? For example: the size and heat of the sun increases as we go closer to it.
The Existence of Matter
The author introduces Descartes who used to systematically doubt and through his doubting came to the conclusion—I think therefore I exist. Philosophically he asks the question of objects exist outside our senses. I would like to affirmatively: they do.
The Nature of Matter
Physical Science has reduced all objects to motions. For example: light has waves and particles called wavicles.
The first advocate of idealism was Berkeley. According to him everything exists in the mind. Here I think there’s a misinterpretation of Berkeley’s thinking. We have to cognize or perceive and that we do with our senses.
The word Know is used in the sense of two things. First of all it means the absence of error. The second aspect of it is knowledge gained by the senses. This is called by knowing through acquaintance. For knowledge by acquaintance we come to knowing of things by our senses. For example when I see a table, I perceive that it is a table.
Russell is not clear by what he means by knowledge through description.
There is an acquaintance with universals that is ideas like whiteness, brotherhood and justice and so on. Nouns and verbs according to Russell use descriptive content.

There are three laws of thought. The Law of identity: what is: the law of contradiction: nothing can be and not be: the law of the excluded middle: everything must be and not be.
One of the historic controversies is between the empiricists and the rationalists. Empiricists maintain that knowledge comes from experience. Is knowledge a priori or a posteriori that is existing before the known or after the known?
Russell assumes that all mathematical knowledge is a priori. I would like to say that cognizing the verifiability of mathematical truths is a posteriori.
The World of Universals
Do Universals, ideas like justice, truth, brotherhood exist in form or as ideas or are they to put in practice. Plato was wrong to assume that they exist in an ideal form.


The Moon

The crystal ball was out early, hanging as an immaculate witch in the sky…I gazed at her like a poetic ornament…I was tantalized by her reflection on the mango tree…I felt my phallus being sodomized by a witch…I became a poet and started writing poetry…There she lies gazing at me with poetic splendor…She made me a wizard of imagination…I said a hi to her by pinching my nipples…There, her reflection is falling on the window sill of my house…I am listening to Bach and eating electric sandwiches…My soul is over amorized…Witch from a coven, yield your poetic soul to me…Yes, I have fallen in love with you….