Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

I believe the one – the one guards me –I love-kiss the one

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

the one has opened me to everything

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

the one has thought me singing – the one has made me make an oath to the poem

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

through the one I experienced one truth

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

he-one charmed me through she-one – only through she-one I am also he-one

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

only I am everything through everybody

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

only I am everything and only everybody and everything is I

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

the one is the weakest – in the one everything disappears – within the one

everything transforms – into You

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

within the body of the one all beings are

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

within the heart of the one the younglings of all beings are

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

within the brain of the one the poem of all beings is

Art is the Voice of God – the Voice of the One

within the will of the one is I You God

first of June

first of June again

it’s raining

it’s first of June

it’s always the first of June – the first of June is forever

it’s raining with November rain in the beginning of June

it’s pouring and pouring that cold June-November rain

transiency is eternal – the first of June will pass

hey first of June that June-November of Yours is still pouring

You allure me June – You allure me rain

You are juneing me June

I am juneing You she-june

mystical unity permeates all beings

hesychastic prayer illuminates all beings

I

Eckhart – Palamas

transiency is eternal – the first of June is passing

I am a warm soup

bloody lip

blood into the spirit into the word

transiency is eternal – the first of June has passed

again first of June You are eternally not passing

Art is God’s Mother

Art is the Bud of All Beings

art confirms art 

Art is the Bud of All Beings 

art confirms singing 

Art is the Bud of All Beings 

singing confirms art

Art is the Bud of All Beings

singing confirms singing

Art is the Bud of All Beings

confirmation of love loves confirmation

Art is the Bud of All Beings

identification confirms identification

Art is the Bud of All Beings

Your face confirms mine

Art is the Bud of All Beings

Ad Reinhardt confirms Ad Reinhardt

Art is the Bud of All Beings

swearword confirms sweared at

Art is the Bud of All Beings

I’m a whore gigolo

Art is the Bud of All Beings

delivering-lecture to Djordje Stanojevic – his friends and all beings

last night from 18:30 to 22:00 – who knows Katalin Kesery tell her

that I love her and that through Godyou the definitions of art are budding and kissing

Art is the Bud of All Beings

every word that I have spoken confirms the love that I have created

with my left hand fingers I’m caressing the fingers of the right hand

I’m on the sea shore

do walk sometimes instead of me for all beings

to the one who doesn’t understand what is written in this blessing

I’m saying clearly that it’s written I kiss her – You my beloved

writing is kissing

reading is fucking

let’s kiss and fuck

it hurts me love me

good writes good

beautiful writes beautiful

me in Your skin

Miroslav Mandic in Your hands

unsolvable now lives in eternally solvable

God just God 

anger

how tender is this word

with forehead ohm

word anger – with bee ohm –word honey

with body ohm

sometimes millenniums are needed so that

the conclusive importance of this irrelevant blessing is recognised

dedicated to You through who I am

somebody needs just a moment to feel that I am immortality actually within them

sometimes I’m nothing else but my mother that got born within You

I love-kiss You crazily my only loyal fool

when in some motherfucking cunt of worry You feel that everything went to fuck

remember then that in this cock the pussy of insouciance is budding and that everything

has found its peace in the pussy of gratuitousness

I am a stone thrown at the whore that while flying transformed itself into the love for

the whore and immaculate as well as righteous ones that are constantly throwing stones

at the chaste and innocent ones

dedicated to...

Miroslav Mandic is Everybody’s Mother Art

there is no coming back – return is eternal

God of obedience – obedience to God

every word liberates me – girly-swearwords especially

when I remember people that are dying of hunger now

every word of mine is a swearword

when I remember humane killings that are carried out now

in pharmaceutical industry and meet industry every breath I take is a swearword

high viewing figures commerciality and citation rates are leading into

communism liberalism and fascism

life is a constant horror of facing up to our own selfishness

life is a constant horror of facing up to our own egoism

life is a beautiful struggle for love

life is a wonderful struggle for immortality

I love to write so that every word that I write down fucks with the next one

I

am

ashamed

I

am

ashamed

because

of

love

I

am

ashamed

because

of

love

and

everybody

that

are

convicted

because

of

love

I yearn to tell You who I am – I am God within You

I kiss Your shoulders

fuck my back

mother is the moment of the defined

You are the naked woman on the grave of my mother

father is the primeval of abstraction

You are the naked breasts and arse on the grave of my father

so that war which is going on now would stop forever. every war

any war. as well as the worst war between woman and man

You are the nakedness and everything somebody wishes for themselves

...finding ourselves in the time (transiency) of the world, man’s nature

is subordinated to the insecure and changeable movements, because of the

changing and deterioration of the world. when it comes into the unity with God, however

human nature will be in ever-moving condition (αεικινητος στασις) and

constant same-movement (στασιμον ταυτοκινησιαν) eternally existing

around the One that is the Same, Single and Only One – Maxim the Confessor

ever-moving condition – winking – everything different in the same

radiant tranquillity in the nerves of the Universe

mild pleasure in the muscle fibres of all beings

I-am-ing

with-one-word-all-melody-of-all-words-is-flowing

I am a monument to all whores that have saved the mankind of self-devouring

mines of love and scientific inventions are in the whores

my words are whores that kiss all beings

smell of dill

I is dying in You through fucking

You gives life to I

I resurrects I

holly is the fucking

holly is the breathing

holly is the writing

marriage of a girl and a boy

I got married the minute I got born

life divorced me from You

I’m coming back to love – I’m coming back to love – I’m coming back to love

love resurrects

kill me with cock – You used to tell me

I live for every word

dusk love-kisses dawn

I am a diary of myself

I am a diary of the word I

I am a diary of the word money

I am a diary of the word fucking

I am an every night diary of the word night

I am an everyday diary of the word day

I am a diary of repentance of all beings towards all beings

I am a diary of soft leather of the one and only leather

I am a diary of all my defeats

I am a God diary

I smell Your fragrance

we are again in heaven

I live Your loyalty

we are gardening the garden of life

I am one from You and not one from two

I am one from one and not one from many

baby potatoes are cooling down

lettuce

gratitude

turtledoves

heath from the morning

I washed my sandals. I have to take them to the cobbler on sawing

I drew 64 Buds are Singing to the Bud of All Beings

I drew Blue Rose and started recording hundred and fifty third hour of Blue Film

I will drink these two or three sips of the second coffee and get into the heath

1736 kilometres are behind me – 38341 kilometres are in front of me

dancing and singing

I love-kiss You First Time Second Ten Year Walking

walking should be undertaken not writing

I’m meandering – looking for the shade

I threw away the envelope with 50 dinars in it on which is written happiness love health

I drew Good Walker underneath which I write number of kilometres I walked

I threw a ball in the air but the sun blinded me and I couldn’t catch it

all people live in jail. nobody dares to open the jail doors and get out through them

one child dared and opened the doors. the rest have immediately swarmed up

and run the child over. people in freedom are now talking how brave they were

and how they got out through the door. they don’t mention the child. they have

killed and buried the child in their hearts. this story came to my on

the rise of Mother Angelina Street

through entertainments and sadness’s

through comfort and insensibility

through indifference and violence of authorities

people live in jail

love is a child

courage is child’s heart within a man

freedom is to live for the child within oneself

only 3,33 kilometres – let’s go child

if I wasn’t a child I would have killed myself

I’m walking for all the children that killed themselves

I can’t go further down this road I need to go back

I stopped and by watching without even a blink

I’m hunting the hunt of the white cat in high grass

the cat at one point jumped aloof and high and caught the lizard

grandpa is cutting a hedge sitting on the chair and his grandson is holding the chair

so that grandpa wouldn’t fall

cut down sour cherry tree thrown away to junkyard still lives and ripens

I’m nothing without the child within me

I’m nothing without love for younglings of all beings

forest paths are still wet from a lot of rain

when tears start falling

with Ana and San in Botanical Garden. San watched fishes and turtles

I saw my magnolia

I haven’t seen her for few years

she grew

quite a girl

green girl

taller than me

I plucked off few dried leaves of her

she’s young

solid

her leaves are big

she’s full of juices

yearning for light

yearning for soil

yearning for water

surrounded by air

grown through love

cared for from other herbs

her trunk is high

she wants to grow more

when I planted her she was up to my chest

it was autumn – 31^st October 2004

it meant a lot to me

it means even more now

the first tree that I have planted in my life

the tree for the book

I love one and only sex – sex of all beings with all beings

I was enjoying water lilies

I live for You magnolia

all mine is Yours

I’m watching You on the photo and I feel that’s me

light kisses light

my green one

after the first word it’s already easier

I’m walking like millions of human beings that were walking

all these millions of years

in my youth I thought I won’t be able to live if I’m not able to jump

into the water all my life but then I didn’t know of the beauty of walking

a woman put the leave on her nose

so that it doesn’t get burnt on the sun

with this spoon you can take a bit of life and drink to the sweet eternity

Miroslav Mandic you shine up on me with your modesty

an old gentleman is coming closer to the wall. an old

madam is watching the roses that she is passing by

make me richer with your life – says life to every being

on these steps in the woods I was the snow last winter

if I wasn’t living through God You poem

I would have lived through God You poem

sun is on my bare back

skin is the way towards You

while I’m picking my way through the macadam over which I’m walking

in my Croc’s shoes I’m thinking of canoes in which I was sailing in my childhood over the calm sea

I feel You sea

through the sun and bare skin I’m on the seaside

I kiss the vestals and monks of all religions

I kiss the vestals and monks of all virtues and ideals

I kiss the vestals and monks of minerals and plants

I kiss the vestals and monks of animals and spirits of nature

I kiss the vestals and monks of people and their customs

I kiss the vestals and monks of higher intelligences

that bring about smiles on our faces

I kiss the vestals and monks of one and only God

I kiss the vestals and monks because they

constantly kiss and guard all beings

I bow down to the puddles on the forest path

with this spoon you can scoop up a bit of will

with which you will encourage yourself to constantly rejoice others

if anybody asks about me I’ll tell them all about myself

if somebody asks about me tell them

that I’ve just kneeled and kissed the ground

kiss the ground and You will

ground smells of putrefaction and constant birth giving

if somebody asks about me tell them that You have kneeled down

for the first time in Your life for the joy of all beings

if somebody asks about me tell them that You have

for the first time on Your knees kissed all beings

if somebody asks about me tell them that

flies are flying in front of me on the forest path

if somebody asks about me tell them that I can’t live without You

if somebody asks about me tell them that I don’t live but I’m

singing and kissing Him

I

wash Your face with water

smell You through soil

breath You in through air

kiss You by light

saying sorry makes up for everything – I said to the cobbler

who said he’s sorry because he didn’t finish sewing my sandals yesterday

more and more a lot of the sensations remind me of sensations I already experienced

bees are drinking water from the remaining puddles on the path

hey remaining puddles

I find Wittgenstein’s last sentence tell them I’ve lived a

wonderful life more and more wonderful since I also live such a life

grass within me

through my nerves leaves are shimmering

with my steps I’m knitting the silence

with my groin I’m kissing the road

kiss my thighs

You meander down my spine

if we understand each other in one we will understand each other in everything

if we love-kiss each other in one we will love-kiss each other in everything

if we live for the one the one will live for us

if we love-kiss the same the same will love-kiss us

if we kneel down together we will be one

I picked up a blue stone hot from the sun and I’m holding it on my belly

it’s nice to see two guys on the road having a conversation

when I don’t expect anything everything that is already is here

a woman was coming towards me. on the half of the path a dog barked

the woman picked a stick up of the ground. frightened the dog

that’s where we parted and finished our story

I’m sitting at my desk

I’m sweating

listening to rockabilly

I’m drinking Boban Generalovic’s wine

I am the sun and grapes in that wine and blood of all-love

the blood of all-love love-kisses blood circulation that permeates all beings

orgasms are circulating the blood of consciousness

that is cleaning the Universe from emotional laziness

orgasms of creation are fucking the creation of orgasms

with yellow water flowers – don’t weary on us fucking – don’t give up orgasm of recovery

You

do

me

enjoy in Yourself – You are adored

in one moment I become You

in next moment You become I

Your absence is so physical

o

ouch

h

ouch

my friend

just

kiss

her

her

I’m waiting for You with these sentences

eight

I kiss the pussy of every being that at this moment is giving birth to a body of love

I kiss the only pussy

are first three words of the Hymn of All Beings

wash me up with Your tongue

is one of the three songs that I wrote yesterday in the Red Notebook

waves are smashing on the rocks

rolling stones are stoning the rolling

I never have enough – I’ve had enough

I’m enjoying the unspoken

I’m silent – I’m walking – I’m kissing

with my back I lean on a tree I lift up left leg and I lean it as well on

the tree and I’m calmly waiting in the shade for the green light to come on

whenever I go on with some nonsense I feel how existence is rejoicing

universality of a word is found in every word

every word speaks about everything

history of transiency and transiency of history

paradox of history and history of paradox

of his history about her and absence of her history about him

history of history about history of history

history of crimes about the crime of history

history is the peak of tacit

I believe in history of those that don’t believe in histories of last ten thousand years

the one who winks is the history – I wink at the winker of history

I learned more about sex from Foucault’s sex than from his History of Sexuality

I’m sniffing

o

o h m

m

I’m singing along

love is constantly sniffing the hymn of all beings

and is singing it along to everybody’s heart

56161^st blessing of mine – I’m drinking rakia

56162^nd blessing of mine – I’m very sad

56163^rd blessing of mine – I’m very much alone

56164^th blessing of mine – I’m rejoicing because I’m drinking rakia

56165^th blessing of mine – I’m rejoicing because I’m writing that I’m very sad

56166^th blessing of mine – I’m writing that I’m very much alone

56167^th blessing of mine – that is as it is. that should be endured. that should be kissed

56168^th blessing of mine – every particle of dust celebrates my loneliness

56169^th blessing of mine – dried out boards on the opened doors

are celebrating my despair

56170^th blessing of mine – doors without comeback from

the misery of the city poor are supporting me being completely pissed off

56171^st blessing of mine – abandoned little shop I kiss Your sweat

56172^nd blessing of mine – big old linden tree on the corner

You are the smell of Chubura

56173^rd blessing of mine – You turtledove nested on the top of the concrete pillar

56174^th blessing of mine – You car tire in the abandoned car shop

56175^th blessing of mine – You only left over rose in the dried out rose-bush

56176^th blessing of mine – honourable people are gathering

cardboard boxes on scrappy cart

56177^th blessing of mine – wind You are rattling the torn off poster

56178^th blessing of mine – high grass next to the gray tin fence

56179^th blessing of mine – painted bricks around little window

56180^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia so that I would survive

my and the despair of all despairs

56181^st blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia and I believe

that I’ll survive the despair

56182^nd blessing of mine –I’m drinking You rakia so that I wouldn’t

deceive anybody in our name

56183^rd blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because I love Firchi of my youth

56184^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because it’s dangerous to love Firchi

56185^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because I believe in overdrives

therefore in Firchi’s as well

56186^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia and I wish love to Firchi

in his second life

56187^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You Johnny Cash who are acctually singing

Big River

56188^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because the irony has drunk

the brain of the cleaver ones

56189^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because parental love is deceiving

the virtues of their children

I have never met people who became better people after becoming parents

56190^th blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because You rakia

are surrendering to me deeply

56191^st blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia so that I would never give up

56192^nd blessing of mine – I’m drinking You rakia because I believe that I will

transform sadness into joy

fifty six thousand hundred and ninety third

blessing

of

mine

I’m

drinking

you

immortal

love

creates

immortal

life

I’m more and more sad and more and more thankful for every word by which I kiss You – You and all beings –

Goddess and family of mine

I’m walking

I’ve bent

my

head down

to Bekim Fehmiu

I’m sitting

at

the table

tears

are

glaring

Bekim Fehmiu

Glaring and Horrifying

glaringness of the decision

glaringness of glaringness

I’m

exhausted

thread

is glaring

I’m trembling

everything

that

isn’t

everything

is

dead

with sky

I’m protecting

the earth

my

innocence

is

free

I love the sentence when it is

wrapped

and

turned

into

beauty

while I’m taking a photo of the remaining plane tree on the Boulevard for which

people are fighting and with which they are fighting I see that it is

a plane tree number 198

I lighten up because every week I write 198 blessings

each

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

33

blessings

trees

of

number

198

life

for six years now I’ve been living and working with number 198

I’m dancing and singing through numbers

I gurgle-buzz-through-numbers

I’m counting trams

I’m counting fucks

I’m fucking with the immortal one – immortality to all beings

198 blessings for 198^th plane tree

coincidences happen more and more to me

encounters

identifying

simultaneous same-identifying

yearning wants to yearn

love wants to love-kiss

all paths are just one path

here

it is

just

go on

it’s

a wing

it’s

concurrence

let’s enjoy

in each other

I’m going into writing

there is no postponing

Violeta will soon come to help me in packing

hundred folders 21x30 cm

around forty fascicles

six folders for smaller drawings

nine folders for a bit bigger drawings

two big folders for big drawings

four tin boxes with running shoes of the Rose of Wandering

ten or so boxes with pictures

another five or six packages with works

nearly two hundred packages with my books

four plastic bags my clothes

two desks

chair for work

three mounting shelves

some nick-knacks from the desk and off the desk

nick-knacks from the floor altar

nick-knacks from the window altar

computer

Branko Popovic will move some of it by car on Sunday

Dejan the carrier will come with two workers on Monday

Jelena Besir will help me during the moving out

and will stay afterwards to clean up a bit the apartment

Violeta Jovanovic will be helping me during the moving into

the Nest on Ban’s Hill

the most important is that right away on Monday

internet works and that the links on my website are not missing

I’m walking – Violeta is packing

I’m theorising the relocation

I’m relocating disagreement into agreement

through agreeing I’m contemplating

I’m contemplating love

I’m kissing contemplation

I’m thinking of the great work of Bekim Fehmiu

who created from 1987 to 2010 through refusing to be a part of

the lie and evil and didn’t agree with misusing his acting talent

every day is a struggle for every day

life loves to be love-kissed

life loves to love-kiss

it’s pouring with rain

Vesna gave me the keys from the Nest

everything that anybody needs is love

I am love

I love to love

I love to be loved

Miroslav Mandic loves me – I love Miroslav Mandic

I love rain – rain loves me

I am love and who are You

if You love-kiss – we are the same

I don’t do anything else but love-kiss

I love-kiss freedom – freedom of love-kissing

I love-kiss everyone who surrenders to the other

God I love-kiss You – love-kiss me Miroslav Mandic – says God to me

through love-kissing I’m God

I love

the one who loves me is loved

the one who loves is justified

Miroslav Mandic couldn’t live if he didn’t love me – love

he would have killed himself if he wasn’t loving – but

Miroslav Mandic same as me love-kisses those who kill themselves

so that they could carry on love-kissing

my friend – You are one – my friend

one is our wife

one is my husband

I am love – my words are love-kissing

I am one woman – woman to all men

one man – man to all women

I am woman-man to all women-men

I am love to everybody’s love

I am love and my love and Miroslav Mandic’s love are

the same and the one and only love

love-kiss

I love-kiss

love-kiss

I love-kiss You

at the last moment I love-kiss the piece of the first moment

last time at the desk in the Little Flat in which I have

worked and lived from 1^st December 2006 till today

I’m watching the green football pitch in front of my window

20:21

I’m sitting in front of my TV. I’m drinking wine. I’m dictating to Violeta

I’m exhausted. yesterday it took me and Branko two journeys to move all my belonings

and today I done one more trip with Dejan and his workers

in new Nest still chaotic. and it will be for next couple of days

I’m happy because the moving was successful. but I’m

sad because I don’t have the internet and I didn’t put anything on my website

I don’t even know if I’ll manage to do it next few days

that’s inability that makes me sad – inability which I accept

wine is very soothing

Jelena Violeta Branko Dejan and his workers are so soothing

heroes of my moving

I went to the internet café. my laptop is not reacting to the wireless internet

even though I don’t know who the twenty or so people who

visit my site every day I miss them anyways

we are a kind of wireless connection

just through heart

one heart

I feel nice writing blessings. I do that better

than moving furniture even though I did a good job of moving

sweat was soaking my t-shirts

I was hoping to wash dirty t-shirts in a washing machine but it’s not working yet either

I made a bed from books

length – 9 packages

width – 3 packages

height – 4 packages

a bed out of 108 packages of books

here I just discovered that there is no hot water either

I was pissed off but it is so sweet. goes under the moving

in couple of days it will all be fine. until then it’s my goal

not to get pissed off. but rather to enjoy everything I don’t do

it’s rather incredible how blessings always work

word calamity is more beautiful than the calamity itself

it’s also interesting to wash yourself with cold water

it’s all the ball that I’m creating and writing

through which I’m circling already sixth year now

wine is slowly disappearing. day is slowly going by

in these moments the summer is beginning

longest day in the year. gentle outset towards the winter

God is male fucker

God is fucking

God is female fucker

heavy pleasure and silence

fucked

18:42

today as well the whole day in chaos

tiding up the working room and room with my work

today as well I couldn’t do anything in internet cafés

airplanes are flying over Ban’s Hill

fly dashing ones

I got wet in the rain and I was sad because I didn’t out put anything on my website

yesterday nor today

but I felt nice outside

rain drops on grass blades

faces of all people here are unknown to me

tonight as well I’m drinking wine in order to survive the sorrow

even though I’m even more sad after the wine

I’m thinking of the Fernando Pessoa’s drunkenness

happily sad

until a moment ago I was listening to Billie Holiday now I’m listening to Cesaria Evora

I remember how I loved certain women

loneliness is so sexual

I’m listening to Charles Mingus

I’m excited by good beings

I’m tired – my eyes are closing

I have on my desk three live-forever plants that Vesna Lopicic gave me

I can hear the rain – I’m with myself

knowing that somebody will read my words when I put them on the

internet makes the words sexy paths and unfuckable bridges

I peeled off two cucumbers with the potato peeler

I sliced four tomatoes

bread. a bag of tartar sauce. a bag of mayonnaise and loyal margarine

are waiting for me

wine is giving strength – I’m loyal to ecstasies

yearning is a skin that wants to set itself free of itself

light-like sexuality

great lovers – consciousness and conscience

I love-kiss you my work desks

I am the presence of all beings that have ever lived

I am all younglings that is getting born at this moment

I just love-kiss You – fuck me God fuck me

wow how beautiful it is – beauty I’ll never betray You

wow how good it is – good I will constantly love-kiss You

1999^th day of Miroslav Mandic book is expiring

I just got a call from mister Srdjan Valjarevic who wanted to see how I was and to wish me all the best

two thousand days ago I started to write Miroslav Mandic book

I didn’t get half way yet

in the spring of next year I will be half way

morning of the two thousandth day is passing in hope that today in my ex Little Flat

that is empty I will be able to put things on the web-site from Monday and Tuesday

I’m in the Little Flat. on the internet. I hope that I’ll be in the position

to put things on the web-site

I will be assisting myself like this until next Sunday when the new Nest gets the

modem for internet and until washing machine starts working and hot water running

I will be coming here in the Little Flat every day to put things on the web-site

then I will be sending them to Ivana in Scotland for translation

although that also will be a bit late

I’ve put it. I’m relieved...

18:42

I’m tired from walking over the city hills

I walked with Jelena Besir from Ada to the Red Cross

I stepped into the mud after the hippodrome. we have passed through the greenery

full of rich houses. we picked up apricots from the ground. we lost the blue shirt

I’m tired from going up-hills. that will be from now on – to cross them patiently

I’m more peaceful because I managed to put things on the web-site

Robin helped me

machines are such good and servile creatures

days are flying by

two thousand days in creating a book

it’s a white book – a book of red strawberries

a book of all beings – a book of pebbles – God’s book

a book that constantly twirls and kisses

a book that fucks with all beings

a book prayer

i just love You

everything I say – book sings. everything that book says – I am

thighs in thighs – swear-words in prayers

I think of all horses that have transported people and their needs for thousands of years

I kiss every mare and every horse

I am a mare – a horse and a mare within me

I am a horse – a mare and a horse within me

it was very exciting to write this sexy book these two thousand days

everybody who love-kisses rocks

I think of letting somebody know about it but as always I don’t have who to do it with

because there is nobody I believe even more in You my beloved

if I could hyperlink it I would have hyperlinked John Hammond who I’m listening to

hyperlink me beloved

female singers are the most loyal male fuckers

male singers are the most loyal female fuckers

female fuckers vestals. male fuckers wanderers

vestals and wanderers are five and a half year old children of two thousandth day

female fuckers and male fuckers

of

joy

health

freedom

transformation

loyalty

love

creation