Bog Miroslav Mandić Bog

I’m on the Ostruznica levee

it’s completely covered with grass

nobody is walking over it so there is no path

I’m enjoying the beauty of its body which I can see in its mild bend

when I was a child I was watching how one levee was made

hundreds of horses and hundreds of workers were working from dusk till dawn

peasants were working on the ground and workers with soil

soil is wondrous

it gives birth

channels are done in the soil. levees are done from the soil

elementally

I’m under the influence of elemental and I’m in the element

walker

singer

rhythm of all beings

I live what I live

I sing what I sing

late autumn vermillion salutes winter snow whiteness

earth is heavens

life on the earth is heavenly

people make atrocities to each other and to

other beings and they make hell out of the earthly heavens

this morning as well I was reading about atrocities one nation does to the other nation

I never say the names when hatred is in question so that hatred wouldn’t spread

greatest evils are done in the name of family nation and God

greatest killer is the feeling that You are right

committing the crimes in somebody’s name is selfishness

and stupidity greater than any other selfishness and stupidity

biggest lie of them all

even though I am sad because of those everyday

crimes and atrocities the joy of the very life is invigorating me

while gardening with my steps through this levee heavens

I hope that this garden will bare more and more heavenly fruits

heavenly compassion of all beings towards one another

heavenly love of the powerful ones towards the powerless ones

heavenly freedom of the powerful ones within the powerless ones

heavenly elementally

I live what I sing

I sing what I live

let’s

let’s go

we are one

sure we are

only ones

everybody

melody and harmony are one

all rhythms are one

you excite me

you excite me as well

I fuck Your heart

it’s yours

with irony man defends himself from his own weaknesses

with wittiness man hides his imperial and colonial crimes

I’m crying

I’m also crying

sweet is agreeing

as sweet as it can be

agreeing is the road

rose on the road

president of the world Julian Assange

holly bird of the world Nadezhda Tolokonnikova

again I feel like crying from beauty

and me from goodness

everything is so simple

and innocent

all boys are mother-fuckers

all girls are fucked mothers

swearwords are mine…

…my lullabies

everything I say You already thought of

everything that you say creates me

Bud

is budding

I thought of writing in next ten or so meters 33 blessings from what I see

while I was writing them I felt within myself unreal beauty in that simple reality

ripped off little branch on the big surface of concrete

I will write slowly through these five kilometres with which today’s walking finishes

goodness is sometimes nothing more than the very solitude

what is here everything is

nobody sees that I am God

for the very same reason I should see that myself

You

god

is

a

courage

to

see

that

i

am

god

in anybody’s warm tears

I slowed down and I’m enjoying more and

more in tiredness that is mildly overwhelming me

not only that tiredness is overwhelming me but the

beauty of the word overwhelming is overwhelming me as well

overwhelm me overwhelming overwhelm

wonderful is the encounter with words

I’m writing and suddenly I’m meeting the word suddenly

once and suddenly

for one and suddenly yearns my soul

I’m in the arms of a runaway child

in the arms of all particles in tranquillity

birds particles

whoever You are I feel more and more Your love

I just wanted to write say anything before

I turn off on you when my voice recorder turned off

after the splendour of the very writing writing aids are also splendid in writing

tools

stiles

pen and paper. graphite and pencil. typewriter and computer. voice recorder

even though I’m against weapons and against instruments I admit I love some tools

tools for writing. tools for listening music. tools for fucking

all of a sudden I got excited with the female one who

guards the male one that is guarding all beings within himself

happiness of solitude is in the very happiness

whoever wants can drink from this blessing

whoever wants can feed from this blessing

whoever wants can find a bed and love in this blessing

whoever wants can get wedded and find a home in this blessing

not even a sun ray wants to shine without you

I’m listening to Ljiljana Petrovic Batler

I’m listening to Miklós Sebő

I’m listening to Portishead

during the Walkings for Poetry I was singing

Gloomy Sunday in unknown places during gloomy Sundays

I’m listening to her

I’ve listened to her many times

Billie Holiday

Billie Holiday is Billie Holiday is Billie Holiday

sorrow sings marvellously

suicide attracts marvellously

marvellously day is crumbling

I crumble into crumbles

I’m a stranger above all strangers

small slights alienate, small courtesies integrate

Timothy Garton Ash

only love for all beings is worthy of love

it’s very hard for me to write and that’s very beautiful

it crumbles

looks like my subwoofer is breaking and that’s what makes me sad

I love to listen to music with strong basses

strong basses are like heavy sacks

slave liberation

grapes are gone

I’m listening again how Ljiljana is singing

whole of her body is in her throat

she embraces with the throat of sorrow

flowers are in her mouth

everything is in vain but only in vain is singing

sometimes only epidemics of suicides are not in vain

multitude of whales stranded on the shore

why

sometimes only child suicides are preventing and redeeming horrible wars of grownups

grownups stop the wars your children will kill themselves

hey Miroslav

yesterday evening I bought a new subwoofer since the old one got broke

basses are even deeper

heart beats

sacks sacks

beat brother beat

beat only beat

beat of all-peace-universe

beat of all-myth

beat of all-beat

beat of being

words beat

music beat

they are one beat

beat of the one and only mind in all minds

beat in all beats

beat in all bulls

(beat and bull are similar words in Serbian: bit & bik)

steps steps steps

beat of a moment

beat of eternity

beat of a fly

beat of an elephant

beat of goodness

beat of beauty

beat of road

beat of rose

beat of sweat

beat tears

beat of God

beat

god

three words beat

two words

one

bud

I’m alone so that I wouldn’t be alone

I’m alone for everyone

I’m alone so that a beloved other one wouldn’t separate me from a third one

I’m alone so that a beloved third one wouldn’t separate me from one and only I

I’m alone so that beloved I wouldn’t separate me from God

I’m alone so that the beloved family wouldn’t

separate me from one and only family of all beings

I’m alone so that the beloved nation wouldn’t separate me from all nations

I’m alone so that a beloved man wouldn’t separate

me from minerals plants animals and higher beings

I’m alone too much to be alone – I’m with all beings

I’m alone too much to be alone – I’m with everyone

I’m alone too much to be alone – I’m happy with everybody

I’m going only to the market to buy bread and chrysanthemums for Slava

the rest of today’s ten kilometres I hope will walk several from twenty or so visitors of my site

I bought three big white chrysanthemums

they smell of snow

in my childhood for St. Archangel Michael’s Day almost every year would snow

the smell of chrysanthemums apples and pure children’s souls

and no one will ever know that in the letter is you only you my love

and I’ll be watching in the distance and searching the silence more and more

the fact that you are here in my bed without any clothes on

from Banat all the way to Srem clouds are low

fuck me Slava

I’m Yours God’s glory

I would love to read again a collection of Serbian swearwords Red Bank

swearwords are prayers of innocent ones

beggars’ love is gratitude and love of God

cling on and curl up with me

all beings – we are one

nobody is less alone then me

I’m off to the other table. that’s where are waiting for me

wheat. candle. bread. wine. chrysanthemums

bigheartedness of the rejected ones and generosity of the imprisoned ones

beloved Nadezhda and Julian and myriad anonymous one in jails

and all beings at one and only table of the one and only family

in one and only cosmic Slava – Slava of all beings in each being

Cosmos for me is – everything and piece – Universe of everything visible and invisible

I am the Universe of everything visible and invisible

there is a vast field of visible which is still invisible

only invisible can never be visible

actually that invisible with visible and still undiscovered visible makes me the Universe

not what is still incomprehensible in comprehensible

but the very incomprehensible which is forever incomprehensible

not what is still inexpressible in expressible

but the very inexpressible which is forever inexpressible

couple of days ago Srdjan Valjarevic brought me Wittgenstein’s Tractatus

I was very excited

I thought to myself it is the most beautiful book of the twentieth century

turfs

barefoot toe sores

skinned elbows

squeezed out ulcers

cuts

disturbing salvaging

wasteland liberates

road and rose are then in virginal fervour

innocence redeems everything

cling to me cling

curl up curl up

meander

You’re within me

i’m

within

you

tomorrow I’ll begin the work While… it will be hundred and thirty two plainest photos

photos of Your sex and Your immortality

while You are doing anything during the day You will be able to live my love

while You’re sleeping

while You’re licking Your lips

while You’re calming Your heart

while You’re writing the sentence which You’re taking the photo of

I’m in a jiff

powerlessness permeates me with love

it will be a road of hundred and thirty two photos

every day through the winter until the spring

while sleeping You can feel my love for You is the first

out of hundred and thirty two photos of the work I’m calling While…

I’ll be putting them every day on the Bud link of the website miroslavmandic.name

last one I will put on April 25^th 2013

it will be a story about the source of holly

everyday from which You can drink love every day

while feeling not loved You can feel that I love You

while rejoicing You can feel that I love You

while doing and being anything You can feel that I love You

I’m walking down the side rail tracks in Bele Vode

many people who lived in last hundred and fifty years

feel nostalgic about trains platforms railway stations

people who lived two hundred years ago didn’t feel

nostalgic about trains because there was no trains at that time

they also didn’t exist three hundred years ago when

Spinoza in 1677 in his Tractatus politicus defined four ways of enslaving a man

put him in chains

take his weapons and possibility to defend

paralyse him by fear

give him plenty material goods

a flock of sparrows on the branches of not picked rosehip

six pigeons are squatting on the electric wires

workers are demolishing what they previously built so that they can build again

vine leaves are withering

oak leaves are yellow like yellow-brown pears

I remember how last summer I was taking photos of grass on this road

I made 33 photos of grass

33 photos of leaves

hundred and thirty two While… photos are four series of 33 photos

winter dream in the den of love

in that den I will be reminding You that somebody always loves You

I love this mudslide on Bele Vode

I saw rocks and felt aliens live in rocks

everything is so close

world is created now

while I was going through Bele Vode I was sad

while getting out of Bele Vode I’m joyful

on the edge of Julino Brdo ten waste containers are placed like ten crows keepers

I’m tenderly thinking of Spinoza

some people are the Universe

tender like a breast

brave like milk

I have made 17.144.857^th step

twelve thousand kilometres in less than three years

in order to encircle the planet Earth once more until

December 31^st 2019 I need to walk 12,796 kilometres every day

I’ve walked twelve thousand kilometres with daily average of 13,207 kilometres

rhythm rhythm rhythm

steps steps steps

words words words

step by step time

step by step space

word

by

word

poem

when people were dazed with the discovery of a wheel

they were saying that the Universe is a wheel

when people were dazed with the discovery of a clock they

were saying that the Universe is the mechanism as precise as a clock

dazed with computer they are saying that the Universe is a computer

designers are talking about the Universe as design

informatician as information

bankers as bank

for me the Universe is a poem

one and only poem

poem of all poems

i

am

you

are

i

am

god

a moment ago I met with my Elvis. I was meeting him for three

years almost every day on the Boulevard. I haven’t seen him for year

or two. he was joyful as always even though he is disabled and in a wheelchair

whatever

and

whoever

universe

is

for

universe

and

elvis

i’m

singing

a

poem

of

love

twenty eight thousand kilometres more in front of me

seven years and thirty six more days

I hope I will endure

poem

of

endurance

sings

the

endurance

of

singing

poem

is

an

oath

to

singing

poem

is

love

through

which

poem

love-kisses

poem

to

poem

little Gypsy is singing in the bus and nobody gave him a single dinar

great singing is without any dinars

let’s sing sing sing

we are love

white chrysanthemums on the table

white like snow

Monday’s birthday

Monday of November 26^th 2012

every day is its own birthday

every day is a new day

one and only day

first day

every day is the only one until midnight

every day is a new day until midnight

poem

from

midnight

till

midnight

every day sings to everyone who is within it

I love to feel understand and start loving those who are foreign to me

those whose feelings thoughts taste and behaviour I despise

not agreeing in my youth with existing condition in society. with

current image of the world. with career. I surrendered to the open sky

to God

to the beginning

one from which everything was created

that’s how one and only one has revealed itself to me

eternal now

the very life

everything that is constantly intertwining with everything in everybody

everything which is the one and only detail of everything

mental

sings

mental

mental

love-kisses

physical

body of the one and only body is within every body

one and only body never dies

one and only poem never ends

I couldn’t resist this plane tree leaf. I picked it up and – I’m kissing it

every day is a day of gratitude to all days

gratitude is joy in every day

every day is a husband to each night

today is today’s birthday

a day without snow with chrysanthemums white as snow

bele hrizanteme na stolu

bele kao sneg

rođendan ponedeljka

ponedeljka 26. novembra 2012.

svaki dan je samom sebi rođendan

svaki dan je novi dan

jedan jedini dan

prvi dan

svaki dan je do ponoći jedan jedini dan

svaki dan je od ponoći novi dan

pesma

od

ponoći

do

ponoći

svaki dan peva svakom ko je u njemu

volim kad osetim razumem i zavolim one koji su mi strani

one čijih se osećanja mišljenja ukusa i ponašanja gadim

ne pristajući u mladosti na postojeće stanje u društvu. na

aktuelnu sliku sveta. na karijeru. predao sam se otvorenom nebu

Bogu

početku

jednom iz koga je sve nastalo

tako mi se otkrilo jedno jedino jedno

večno sada

život sam

sve koje se neprestano prepliće sa svime u svakom

sve koje je jedan jedini detalj svega

umno

peva

umno

umno

ljubi

telesno

telo jednog jedinog tela je u svakom telu

jedno jedino telo nikada ne umire

jedna jedina pesma nikada ne prestaje

nisam mogao da odolim ovom listu platana. podigao sam ga i — ljubim ga

svaki dan je zahvalnost svim danima

zahvalnost je radost u svakom danu

svaki dan je muž svakoj noći

danas je današnjem danu rođendan

dan bez snega sa hrizantemama belim kao sneg

allow me to whisper in Your ear so that everybody can hear

all cells within You are love

some of them are pigeons

some swallows

some butterflies

some flowers

some meadows

some clouds

all of them are circling like joy within You

rejoice us – they are telling You

we love-kiss You – they are telling You

love us – they are telling You

they are trembling

meandering

waving

they are love-kissing each other through love-kissing You

they are nourishing each other through caressing You

they are singing each other through celebrating You

allow me to carry on whispering in Your ear so that everybody can hear

all particles within You are birds which fly high under the clouds

flying from one branch to the other

from one roof to the other

flying over the streets

rivers and mountains

seas and oceans

they are whirling in the wind

they are bathing with rain

they are shining through the sun

birds within You are created through love

birds within You are receiving and giving through love

birds within You are and live through love

allow me in the end to whisper You once more so that everybody can hear

this whispering in Your soul will never stop

warm wind is carrying the smell of rotten leaves

light rain is gently pattering over my coat

I’m happy because I’m in the air

happy because I’m walking

happiness is joy which beauty feels in goodness

happiness is freedom which creation feels in walking

happiness is truth which singing feels in creating

happiness – indescribable is

happiness – unspeakable is

happiness – reasonless is

every being celebrates life in itself

living in beings life is happy

living in beings life is eternal

living in beings life is life

alive

life

is

god

of

god

alive

life

is

alive

life

of

god

alive

life

is

happy

life lives in joy of all beings

life lives in order to celebrate each being

soil is full of fallen leaves

that circling of leaves is wondrous

greenery gets yellow and in the end it shimmers like gold

for ten years I was drawing leaves

for ten years grass

if a prerequisite of politics is to discover that You know who is Your enemy the

prerequisite of poetics is Your revelation that everything and everybody is Your friend

a flock of sparrows has been vigorously and joyfully flying in circles around me

without sisterly and brotherly love for all beings

man’s story about man is a sad story about egotism

I’m still impressed with joyful cheerfulness of the flock of sparrows

I’m climbing to the concrete bridge in order to cross the river

birds fly over the river in a second

god’s creation. continuation of creation

and new creation are one and only creation

one and only one

my only love

hello young wind over the river – I’m shouting from the bridge to the wind over the river

the length of my step is seventy centimetres

while climbing on the bridge I’m counting how big is the

radius of the circle with circumference seventy centimetres

eleven point one centimetre

I’m imagining my steps as wheels which radius is eleven point one centimetre

good evening wind – I’m shouting to today’s wind over the river again

today’s wind is warmer than yesterday’s

one man in the middle of the river fishes in the boat

four kilometres upstream I swam across the Sava last summer

while thinking which word to use to describe the

state of refined yearning through which I’ve been living life

since I was born the wind has lifted fine sand in front of my legs

beginning-of-winnowing

is that the word

shining

living life like the sun’s shining

winnowing

living life like the winnowing of snow

getting-wet-in-the-rain

living life like the raining

every day impregnating everything

every day be impregnated with everything

sawing life

living love

eating God’s brad

through male movement of the bridge a woman is lighting up a cigarette in the wind

she is putting the lighter back in her jacket

she is it zipping up

with great pleasure she is inhaling a second drag

wind is carrying her hair

wind is fluttering the grass

while saying wind is fluttering the grass I felt

something magnificent in that wind is fluttering the grass

wind is fluttering the grass is the greatest monument in the world

singer is sowing words

poet is sowing poems

I was born as a sower of the words

I was created to saw myself

in the pussy of a poem

all my words are breads and poems

in the poem of a pussy

I agree that those who are bad should become good

but I also believe that the good ones should become miraculous

miraculous God

the same way that it’s hard for the bad ones to change and become good

it’s even harder for the good ones to give up their goodness and become miraculous

it’s always and only about my change

creation of transformation

implementation of promised

overcoming of created

transformation of creativity

love is the only change which never stops

what’s new neighbour – asks one neighbour the other one

we’re making new from old – responds the neighbour

a woman

a man

they are one

on toes

daily portion of everyday

certainty of the swept away

strudel with poppy seeds for lunch and for diner

and two three bites of bread with oil along the way

sudden change of rhythm is always good

the rhythm of repetition always clings

I love You

wind in the night is swinging the traffic lights in the empty street

You are my life

atmospheres

a thigh tucked to a thigh

midnight walks

anything

whenever I say anything I said everything

somebody

somewhere

somebody somewhere

somebody somewhere in my heart

somebody

somewhere

in

my

heart

is

god

soul is trembling with love

soul is kissing with throat

through sacrifice of love soul love-kisses the victims of love

mystics of sacrifice liberates all worlds

through

horses

throat

it’s great that you gave him money – I said to a girl who

was giving money to a beggar. she blushed and smiled gracefully

a

flash

of

innocence

love

flashes

grace

sparks

the secret of love is that every being can love-kiss all beings

the secret of love is in the light through which

each being can light each nook of the Universe

the secret of love is in a poem which shines with impossible

poem

is

a

horse

which

is

talking

to

us

my

male

friend

poem

is

a

mare

which

is

singing

to

us

my

female

friend

boulevard

of

saturday

in

the

poem

of

boulevard

everything has started and all of that has started now

the secret of now is that everything has happened now

that everything is happening now

that everything will happen now

the beauty of now is that it also happened now

imagine that what happened now

I love words when they get out of body

I love body when it gets out of word

I love words when they are getting out of heart

I love heart when it comes out of words

I love words when they come out of mind

I love mind when it comes out of words

I love words when they come out of words

I love words when they come out of words

I’m thinking of hooligan sparrow whose love I constantly feel

free of charge is sexiest and the most expensive

I love-kiss You my beloved hooligan

dusk is setting down

I am constant gratitude and admiration

today is my Jean-Luc Godard’s birthday

eighty second

miraculous life is happy in anyone who is miraculous

Ye Haiyan is holly

Ye Haiyan or Liumang Yan or Hooligan Sparrow

I admire her

I admire sparrows

little sparrows

Ye Haiyan

Nadezhda Tolokonnikova

Julian Assange

while walking in the strong wind next to the lake I’m a little boat in the open sea

I’m whining while thinking of locked up Nadezhda

locked up Julian and wonderful Hooligan Sparrow

I’m trembling with love from love in their actions

I’m trembling in the beauty of crow’s wings with which happiness is flying towards me

I’m crying and I’m happy

happiness is freedom

freedom is happiness

I’m crying and imagining how with this cry happiness is flowing in the blood of all beings

I’m crying thinking of tranquillity and non-aggressiveness

of Lionel Messi the best football player of all times

here they are on the road

shy freckled girl and frozen runaway boy

through strings of stamping

through jaws of wandering

through dear burdocks

through the spine which twists from liking all beings

to fall into the enthrallment of the other through open nostrils

to accept with bosoms the other into one’s own tranquillity

shy her and frozen him

freckled her and runaway him

miraculous

happiness in the blood of all beings

chirrups

just to let You know

yes it is yes

today is my sixty third birthday

twenty three thousand eleventh day of my life

midday bells of love are actually ringing from my mobile phone

I’m in the house. on Saturday and yesterday I got a bit cold. maybe I also caught a virus

sun is shining outside

I’d love to go outside but outside I can’t go

Ivana will bring me medications and food and one birthday cream pie

I will grind lemon and mix it with sugar as my father used to do

I’m taking a photo of my face for the link walking

I will drink two glasses of Petar’s wine

i

am

miroslav

mandic

i’m

singing

miroslav

mandic

am

i

Ivana brought plenty of things. we spread it on the floor. it was a real birthday

today I’m starting to read Bertrand Russell

I’m preparing myself for Wittgenstein’s Tractatus

I’m on my own

g

o

d

enchanting reduction

this morning Zelimir Zilnik sent me a photo which he took

on December 1^st 2012 in Taiwan in which can be seen one very old tree

underneath which Zeljko is sitting and in the subject was written You, tree and me

you

tree

me

reduced enchantment

both sides of the same

I’m thinking of poets

I’m thinking of Zineta who said about her life with

her late husband whole life child-like and friendly love

iTunes is playing at the moment Six Days on the Road

coachman-like

truck-driver-like

walker-like

coachmaning oneself

managing oneself

being both road and rose on the road

on one and only God’s road

innocence of the rejected ones

used handkerchief

light of serving

seven hundred and twenty eight of those who saw this video

I’m completely knackered

my nose is constantly running

my eyes are sore and full of tears

my forehead is sore

I’ve no energy

it looks that I’ve got a bad cold

a drop of tea has fallen onto my desk

yesterday I took off the desk the thirteenth table picture and put on the fourteenth one

it is now just whiteness of the paper

I love art which becomes on its own

through tramping a path

by steps which are polishing the stone

by accidental traces of pencils on the wall

I was in the bed for two hours

I put the hat on my head

Ivana brought me food today as well

I will make Russian salad

I have one more glass of Petar’s wine left

only when I droop do I see how tired I am

exhausted

the road is long

God will give

I’ll get up

I’m breaking a sweat

for moment to moment music lifts me up but then again nothing

I’ll manage somehow

Russian salad

then to the bed again

by now everything is already wet on me

I have to change

poetry is in everything

throughout this week I’ll be listening to Henriette in the end of the day

the light of serving

seven hundred seventy of those who saw this video

dedicated to Ye Haiyan Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Julian Assange

nose is suffering

eyes are full of tears

already a second t-shirt is wet

the fact that everything is poetry saves

Ivana just brought me food

ajvar and beetroot

margarine and thick juice

fuck what a lunch and diner

then Bertrand Russel and film tonight

Gloria by Sydney Lumet with Sharon Stone made in 1999

a remake of John Cassavetes’ film with Gena Rowlands from 1980

I really love John Cassavetes

some people were always exciting me

and they excite me more and more

people without power

people in whose hearts the hearts of all beings are beating

Cesaria Evora

song Henriette

poem

gives

everything

and

poem

asks

everything

heroic in almost nothing

in the very it that is

approval of goodness

approval of miraculous

approval of approving

another changing of the wet t-shirt

it’s more comfortable in dry

ajvar and beetroot are already waiting for me

but I have seven more blessings in front of me

another t-shirt will be soaked with sweat

loyalty feels like singing some more

singing

is

nothing

else

but

loyalty

serving of all particles of all beings

serving to all particles of all beings

serving

to

poem

and

singing

the light of serving

eight hundred forty of those who saw this video

dedicated to Ye Haiyan Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Julian Assange

I’m happy that I’m going to listen to

Henriette today and see what the number of visitors is

I feel a bit better even though while drawing 64 Buds I started

feeling coldness from the window and immediately felt the sensation in my throat

when the House warm up a bit more I’ll dust it and clean the floor

before that I’ll go to porn sites

bowing

sanctity

I despise made up stories in the literature

rowdiness

illusionism

cockiness

last night I’ve changed wet t-shirts several times

today I’ve changed them third time already

later on three-four times more. and God know how many until tonight

it’s very pleasurable after the wet t-shirt

and sweaty skin to put on warmed up dry t-shirt

this morning I managed to shave after several days

I won’t go out till Monday after all

and I hope that on Monday I’ll be able to walk

then slowly

like viewers of the video Henriette whom today is eight hundred ninety six

like when Rachael shouts wow after Bridget’s solo on the bass

I can’t avoid mentioning Gretchen Molannen and her passing away

not only to mention her but to express my love forever

I love You Gretchen

Your life and Your passing away Gretchen have not only great

sense but will be an inspiration and salvation for a lot of people

I would have been sad if I didn’t write these blessings about Gretchen

love is one

that’s why I’m writing next two blessings

I don’t like barbarianism of the civilised ones whose violence and evils are countless

number of times greater than those who are called barbarians by the civilised ones

I love you civilised ones even though you don’t know what you’re doing

I was on porn sites

wiped the dust and floor

cooked pasta

I’m listening to Amy and Rachael

radiant from the light of serving

eight hundred ninety six of those who saw this video

dedicated to Ye Haiyan Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Julian Assange