Journal

Woke early …morn was trope of birds floating gently in the air. Greedily devoured mom’s sweet tea. Smoked a lot of fags. Clouds lay in mystic colors …orange, purple and violet. A butterfly perched on my hand; it was a saint bringing me good tidings. My significant other in Cochin gave me a reply that she delivered a baby boy. How I long to make sweet love to her. With vermilion sprinkled on her forehead she looks very beautiful. That Filipino cunt that I had an affair with is really a bother. She is become an old hag. The sun became a shining ball of light. How I long to lead a retired life devoted to writing. I long to bring my significant other from Ghana and I long to make love to her. Poems bloomed like flowers. I have been writing for years and how I long for fame and recognition. Is my writing so really bad? Yes, my poems have won some good reviews and I am so happy about it. I am running short of money and I desperately need a good paying job. In my mother’s school I am paid a pittance. I really hate my mother the old hag. She wears a gold necklace and I long to wrest it from her. Yes, I also hate my conniving wife. She has taken me to asylum many times. Cops are a real fuck! A fucking astrologer wrote imprisonment for me …luckily nothing of that sort happened to me. Astrologers are fucked up assholes. I admire the beauty in simple things of life. I need to win a windfall and buy a house in the hills in Munnar and live with the rest of my life with significant other. My significant other is Grace and she is so charming and beautiful. Am I progressing in the art of writing? I really don’t know! I must be. I am so fucking fond of writing. Time bring a syllable of thought. Music what passions you bring to the soul. Charm is an enigma …a mystic solitude and passion is her sister. My soul is a brothel of pollution. Luck you are a tame brother. The sky lay as mystic white feathers. Bards of poems flew in the sky. A poem rode a motorcycle. Summer is come and I am waiting for the monsoon. I am thinking of the houseboats lying in the tranquil backwaters of Kerala. I long to spend a night in erotic ecstasy in them with my significant other. Time has become an erotic stream of thought. Christianity is an Armageddonizing religion. Christ you are the biggest egotist. Religion is a stinking chalice. Time, free from the pain of lacking money. I am a swine frolicking in the sea of thought. Life is a surrealistic painting. The artist of life is the body. I am shitting a body of thought. I want to enjoy passions to the brim. I want every day to be a financially lucky one. Windfoliate my petals with joy. I am a Cervantes of Postmodern Fiction. Time relieve the cramps of bad luck. Life feed me with luck. Life is an extreme and there is no middle way as Buddha said. Nietzsche, I owe you poems of roses. When will Time heal the wound of my body? Nirvana I wing you a harp. Poems of joy wake my body up. Sing a joyful song to nature. Melancholy you are a trembling chain. I need a well paid joy. Christianity tyrannizes the soul. Passions run into a river that’s deep. I long to be gratified in sex. Sex is a pain that hurts. My lovers are far away: what to do? Pain, you are a bleeding anathema. I want to surgicalize my wounds. I want to sensationalize my feelings. Brothel is the dope of the mind. Passion you have to sterilize the body. Orgasm is an epic novel of the mind. How to slutify my mind? I am creative, poetic and Epicurean. I have been an oppressed child. Time has to heal my wounds. God arranged a marriage that was fucked up. I need to go to Ghana to see my significant other. I want to make love to her. Passion, you wing of hope. Time is a serial killer. Luck when can I expect your good tidings? I am not willing to deny my life and take up the cross and follow Jesus. Can a virgin conceive? Bah! Baloney! All religions are prostitutes conniving innocent souls. I am going to Nirvanize my religion. Devil does not dance to my tunes. I am confused about my worldviews. I have worshipped the Devil but I have found that’s no use. The Devil is a fucked up stinker. Why can’t God be permissive about Sin? I have wasted 48 years of my life. That Filipino cunt is a fucked up rat. Woe, I give you a big fuck. My wife is fucking cunt. Muhammad brothelized religion. I don’t canonize saints but I canonize my dick. Time, don’t treat me like a dead duck. I am generous and liberal with money. God you are a Scrooge of desire. I have to strangle my wife and mother. Oh God I would love to kill them. They are my worst enemies. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Patience I can’t wait to torch you. Windfall, you owe me a big applause. Time, free the wings of my body. Refuge, you are a whore of thought. I have been dreaming about a windfall but I have not been lucky in getting one. Why the fuck is that? The All Seeing Eye the Unfinished Pyramid, you can go to hell. Masons babble hypocrisy. Luck is a demon that has not been kind to me. I am a fucked up brothel and a stinking asylum. I curse the day of my birth. I am not speaking vain words. Heaven and eternity don’t mean anything to me. They are just a fart. Woo time to win me a windfall.

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Daily Journal

Woke up quite early. Traveled to the town to buy cigarettes ….saw the beauty of dawn …the sky arrayed in many colors …..birds floating gently as a poem……I was filled with joy…..bought lottery tickets…my Pisces horoscope predicted that: a lot of money gains will come your way….lucky is considerably favorable on your side…..worshiped Lucifer, Mammon and Ahriman. Got into a tiff with my wife. I want to divorce the fucking bitch …that fucking whore. She is really a pain in the neck. Arranged marriages are a fucking waste. That silly old fart wants to confine me in a psychiatric asylum. She …the bitch has done that thrice. Yes, I want to retire from work and lead a contented life as a Writer Artist. In my dream I saw chocolate. I searched the dream dictionary and it said that I will encounter something that is good and lucky. My wife is a beastly cunt. She never sucks my dick. Before penetrating her, I give her many orgasms with my tongue. She never even washes her cunt properly. Yes I have to live with my significant other. I long to travel to places and countries. I am 48 years old and I am tired of working. With Lucifer’s help I can lead a comfortable life and I want to devote the rest of my life to writing. My worldview keeps changing. I am really confused. Should I worship the devil of God? Yesterday I got a small windfall. I thanked the Devil for it.

Daily Journal

Woke early morn ….had dreams about my childhood ….I could see my dead grandpa and grandma in my dreams. Feel the love of early tea striking on my lips. Poems woke up in my heart. I have a new significant other and her name is Grace. She lives in Ghana. I want to go and meet her there and make passionate and erotic love to her. Today had to go to the registrar’s office in Aleppy. On one side is the road and on the other the tranquil and seducing backwaters. Lush paddy fields swayed and kissed in the wind. Storks dazzled themselves soaking in the luscious water. Saw a horde of ducks waddling in water. Saw a resort and in houseboats. I dream of spending a night with my lover in one of those. It’s been ages since I have smoked weed. The euphoria of it is fascinating. Can feel time slowing down and the arousal of lust. A cop stopped us on the way and our pollution cert. had expired but he did not fine us. In the registrar’s office accompanying me was my wife and accountant. A demon took over me and I started watching porn in my cell. My wife gave a fierce outburst. Somehow I feel, me and my wife are not made for each other. I want to bequeath her the school and the house and move out and I also want to divorce her. On the way back we had tapioca and roast duck …..Oh my it was so tasty and so succulent. Somehow I feel the devil is using me, my talents as a door mat. I removed all the posts that were praising him. I am really confused about my worldview. The Christian worldview is pure and righteous and difficult to follow. There are no rewards for worshiping the devil. Yes, Camus is right when he said life is meaningless and absurd. Yes, I badly want to go to Ghana and meet my significant other. Need to win a windfall.

Letter to a Lover

Sunset is hued with red and purple and I am a poet watching its beauty surface. Romance is in the air….a passion which I feel in the heart…..Are you romantic darling? Your body is lyrical verses of poetry and your eyes are twinkling stars. Your breasts are figs of Lebanon. Your curves flow smooth as a Grecian urn. Let’s make the sweet poetry of love …..I invite you to my bed ….Long to taste all your sweet orifices and orgasm you to ecstasy.

Letter to a Lover

Your letter filled me with so much warmth. I have instantly taken a liking for you. My love for you fills me with poems of the heart. Beauty echoes a treble, a chorus of melodies of the heart. I am a poet at heart and if I have food for my romantic soul, I am a happy person. I call you in a poem and caress you with guitar strings of the heart. Your feelings are so profound, so majestic, so filled with grandeur. I would love to satisfy all your desires of the heart, body and soul. I would love the mornings to wake up with you, with you lying in my chest….and flowing you with sweet kisses. Yes, I would love to make coffee for you and watch the beautiful colors of the sun with you. I would love to write poems for you and sedate you with love. Yes, I am dazzled by your beauty, your soul full of love. I hope you can come here to Kerala and visit me.

Letter to a Lover

Dearest Darling Honey, how was your day darling. Well I woke early in the morn had coffee and meditated upon dawn. I hope your day went off well. Honey, I miss you so much. Beloved, I long to make sweet love to you. The nights we spent in Kuala Lumpur were so erotic, so tender, so passionate. Darling honey, I miss you so much. Passion vibrates from the heart. Your body is a musical fountain. I long to drink your passionate orifices. I long for you so much. We have been in love for so many years. Our souls, our bodies, long for each other. Sweet is your tender love. Love has been music, an emotional bonding between us. Passion lives in the heart. Let me melt your lips with sweet kisses. Let me embrace you with loving passion. Let me make love to you like erotic music. I long to be with you in Kuala Lumpur. My nights are so cold without you. Your breasts are an art, warm soaking melons. Your nipples are oodles of sweet affection. How I love fondling your pussy hair ….inserting my tongue deep into your crevices and orgasming you to lyric of poetry.

 

Three Prophetic Dreams

rahul gandhi

The Lord God Jesus Jehovah put me to light sleep and in the sleep he gave me visions: the first was the fate of India: in the vision I saw the Pharaoh of Egypt (the Indian electorate) anointing Rahul Gandhi with fine robes and ornaments. Yes said the Lord: he will become India’s Prime Minister in 2019. He will break the Guinness record of becoming the world’s youngest Prime Minister. The Lord told me that he should trust no one and should be extra cautious about his security.

The second was a song I composed. The Lord told it to teach the children in the school.

The third was a Tom Dick Harry Porter asking me to sell the school. I tell him in crude language to get lost. This is my ancestral land, my inheritance (Abraham’s bequeathed land) which the Lord has given.