Friday, August 11, 2017

+ WE SHARE OUR MOTHER'S HEALTH +

Jack was looking for something to do. 

 

Laying in his bed, half asleep, he looked up at the ceiling. 

 

“Is this what’s my life all about? Doing nothing everyday, being told what to do, and not getting what I want?”

 

Jack contemplated his existence every morning. 

 

It was hard for him to go to sleep because of his deep aniexty. His traumas would haunt him every night. 

 

Was it normal for a virgin 25-year-old to feel this way? 

 

Well, when he was 18, he got his first blowjob by a fat punk-rock girl. He later saw her again at 23 to get a even better blowjob. …Was she made for him? No. Already that girl had a kid. Jack wasn’t going to be with her. He never put his penis in a vagina.

 

Did he ever had a chance to do that? Or is he an authentic geek that lives life by his virtues? Will he ever get rewarded for being himself? 

 

Jack felt he had an illness. Although you could call it a mere self-confidence issue. He looked and acted like Elliot Rogers. Did he have plans to shoot up the school? No, not really. As an artist, he is for expressing oneself though avant-garde shock art. So he would be okay writing a fictional story about Jeffery Dahmer murder. But that has nothing to do with him. 

 

Jack was going to be a butler. One of his favorite anime was Black Butler. Maybe one day Jack can be a submissive, handsome, bisexual type of butler that is mysterious and has a “dark side.” Jack thought he was ugly. He wasn’t. He is coddled to death by his parents. 

 

Every year the O’Donald family would get a beach house in Miami. His older brother, that was only a year apart from him, went with his own friends or brought over his current-state-of-affairs girlfriend. Jack was always stuck with his verbally abusive dad, over-protective and delusional mom, and degenerate and nihilist grandmother. This of course would be bad for any young person growing up around. 

 

They say that in such an environment, a kid is bond to get autism or asbergers. Jack never diagnose with such an illness (his mom told him the public schools are doing that because they want money for the drug companies). 

 

There is a difference between weakness and strength. Ironically, a lie is perpetrated in the school system that the weak can do what they want. When in actuality, the strong, be it on the sports teams, the jocks, the popular kids, are the successful ones in life. Weak kids get diagnosis by the strong as “asbergers” for them to never reach a level of self-improvement. 

 

Luckily, Jack has been into White Nationalism since he was 17, and through his own discovery of Yukio Mishima at an early age, he become a believer in self-improvement. 

His dad had a personal gym he would use to get a better body. Jack would run for 30 minutes, lift for 40, and have a Whey smoothie afterwards. Doing this every day, and every other, cause Jack to quit for a week because his piss was turning pink. It was the trauma that would haunt his sleep that kept him motivated. 

 

He could workout today, but he didn’t want to kill himself over trying to self-improve. 

…what an ironic death for such a fragile life. 

 

Jack would cry in bed about the dream he had about Monica last night. The girl that would haunt him since the 4th grade. Why won’t she go away? Worse of all, she was in the same beach house with the O’Donald family. 

 

In sheer confidence, his Dad picked a house, where on the first floor, Monica and her new Jewish boyfriend would stay. 

 

Jack’s hearted beaten so fast. He didn’t want to exist today. Maybe he should go and workout so he get kidney failure and die. Why doesn’t he have a body like Mishima’s? 

 

Ever since he started his internet career as a YouTube personality, Jack gets an abundant amount of hate email. “You beta!” “You girl!” “You autistic fool!” “You pervert!” “You racist!”

 

Growing up requires to develop a tough skin and let the blows flow. Jack, at the age of 25, never felt he made that smooth transition into adulthood. In fact, he was never given consent that he “was an adult now.” Coddled to death by his parents, there is a facade over his life’s direction. Most young kids in their 20s become hardcore nihilist. How many other kids his age drink beer, do drugs, get promiscuous sex, swear every second, into popular meme culture and self-aware hip-hop references? So many people try so hard to be “norms.” Jack wasn’t a normie, nor did he every plan on becoming one. 

 

Jack had internet girlfriends from the philippines that would tell him “you can get any girl you want! I’m surprise you don’t have a girlfriend! You are an amazing person!”

 

…Why couldn’t he get a girlfriend? He certainly was qualified to get one. OK Cupid was there for emotional support. But where was the physical, the dates, and the future plans to get married? Internet dating is a scam, or at least free Skype sex for some. 

 

Jack did admit to himself he was “socially awkward,” but not on fact that he was retired. It is common for people to be scared in an environment they are unfamiliar with. However, after taking a summer position selling Verison phone service, knocking door-to-door in the hot streets of Philadelphia, Jack learned that much of “making new friends” is like selling a product. A disgusting game based upon free-market capitalism and the weakness of the intellectual. Always it is the natural world that winds. …something they never tell you in academia and the public system (not even Jack’s parents would tell him such wisdom. You could call them “spineless” by definition). 

 

Even though Jack also had a trust-fund,free money he could use for interest, his own car to drive to places, he was still a loner. After his mom would insist they would need to drive together. His dad would throw absuive comments not to go out of his house, while his mom would treat him like a baby. This bipolar confusion created a bisexual nature within Jack. His dad did not exist in his life. He didn’t know what it feels to have a proper and healthy father that loves his son. At times he could love his mom, but he wasn’t so sure if this “love” was rather a New Jersey lower-class behavior of trailer trash and low-IQ city slickers. Depentcny on one another because living on welfare was a trauma for her. It was Dad that came from the family of money, but he who also hates his mother, tried to start a new life working a long night-shift. A man in his late 50s who acts like he is in his 20s. Very bad for any child to grow up with. 

 

Jack’s older brother went through worse trauma. He donned the punk-rock culture and became addicted to ahcolh at a young age. Now his new fix is pills and pot. Often he is running away from home, but coming back to his room if he has no where else to stay. 

Although Dad has admitted his own flaws of self-projection and physical assault, he cared about Jack that he should stay away from alcohol and drugs. It was rare for him to be a normal person. Jack would not discuss any future plans with his parents. His mom would go and tell everyone she knew, and Dad would insult him. …Just like internet comments. 

 

Luckily, Jack was dating a cross-dresser by the name of Natalie (Nathan was his real name). His parents thought she is a good girl for him… usually because in the past, Jack has always brought an Asian girl back to the house. Natalie spoke fluent french, is an accomplished ballet dancer, accountant, and overall good person. 

 

Jack cuddled with Natalie, not knowing until later did she reveal she was originally guy. He did not feel shock from such behavior, and in fact insisted that he willing to have anal sex with her. Natalie proclaimed she was “a lesbian” and could not date a guy, even if he truly loved her. But here “he” was, at the beach house to get closer with Jack. 

 

Jack did consider many times that it would be nice to be roommates with a tranny. 

 

Crying alone in his bed, he looked at his phone. He had multiple message left by the same Fillapina girl that he has been in a relationship for three weeks now. The same “good mornings” and “I love you.” It was good emotional support. But today, he had to go near a girl he hated to be around with.

 

…Monica. 

 

The room was a box with two beds that didn’t have much space. The window glared out a light that promised a new and exciting day. For Jack, it would be another depressing day. 

 

He was unemployed. The same feeling would occur if he was at home. Like so many others in the nation, most kids “tune out” and play video games. Jack never played games. He wanted to use his precious time in a constructive matter where he could he use it to write blog post, make music, upload YouTube videos, workout in the gym, and even draw. The labor he puts in should be the outcome what he gets back. So many people could be becoming progressive artist than wasting their lives in front of a TV or going to the “bar” on the weekends. Jack tried to use his time constructively as a possible. 

 

The only thing that made him sad is that he didn’t have friends. He didn’t have a lover, and he didn’t have, what most people call, “a life.” …What is a “life?” How do you define that? Why do ugly people can live out a “life” too and while beautiful and isolated people, like Jack, have to suffer?

 

It sounded like Monica. Old Monica. Homley as hell. No one wanted her. Yet she tried to act like one of the girls on the cheerleading team. Her chinese family tried to aim her for success, but she failed to so it. Rather, she wants to “live her life,” just like all the other decadent Americas. Jack wasn’t apart of her life. She rejected him many times in the past five years. …But why would she? Jack was too good for her. She was a little midget with pimples on her face with an awkward smile and crooked teeth. Imagine a tall young man and a third world Asian girl holding hand on the boardwalk. It just didn’t go together. …Yet Jack still hooded on to such a romance. 

 

He was into puppy love. Monica showed Jack how to love. Graduating high school at 19, Jack discovered Monica one monday at board game night. It was only next week did they met again. And again, and again… 

 

Love naturally minded the two together. Even her hovering Chinese dad came over to drop her off one night. Jack felt pride in her. 

 

He didn’t know how to “game” a girl at that time. He just asked questions and probe suggestions like all young and inexperienced men do. Because of the violent nature of feminism, Jack was afraid of the rejection of the over-powerful white girl. Monica as a Chinese-American had little to do with that. 

Jack learned how to text with Monica. He spilt his desires and dreams onto her phone. Monica listened. It was wonderful. 

 

It was three years later did he found out that sometimes afterwards, Monica would be ignoring his text… even blocking him. At times she would say “I like you,” to the point where she was dating another ugly person, and then spying on Jack when he was out with his older brother and his little autistic friend. 

 

When Jack was 23, in mid-January when he transferred to a new Women’s college, Monica confessed that he was cheating on Jack. Jack cried the rest of the next two months. He was able to find a new Asian girlfriend, which he stayed with for a year and a half with. But when Monica made a confession to Jack, his heart was broken. Monica, the most ugliest and innocent looking person, cheating on Jack, a handsome and athletic young man. Monica was a disgusting normie. An ugly person with an evil soul. She wasn’t the person Jack sought her to be. 

 

Jack always questions his own behavior. …Did he do something wrong? Was he a “sock puppet beta” that didn’t go in for the kill and rather let the ugly “alphas” get her? What was wrong with him? Did he have a chance with her? 

 

He remember the day on his 22nd birthday Monica would kiss him farewell before she got on the train to go home. 

 

And then on his 21st birthday Monica disappointment Jack by not showing up. It rained that day. His autistic friends came over and made fun of him. Jack cried in front of his parents and he told them his personal story. It didn’t go good… as his parents, especially his mother, witness a “bad 21st birthday party” to exploit. He heard stories of his brother, his parents, and other kids having the time of their life on their birthdays. But for his mom and dad, they were only owning him and taking away his personal life experiences. 

 

Ever since the age of 15, Jack felt this power crept into his life. A natural urge any free individual would feel. For the next 10 years, Jack had to deal with it. 

 

…Was it his fault he still lives with his parents? He has the money to “move out.” $101,000 saved in the bank. His dad yells at him to move out and go die somewhere else. How could Jack move out when realizing that he is left in this world alone? That up to this certain point in his life, his 25 years, did his parents and his brother di not exist? Where was he to go?

 

When he was 15, Jack’s favorite book was Evasion by CrimeTHINC. It was a narrative book about “how to illegally steal things and live an anarchist lifestyle.” Many times Jack had thoughts of running away from home at that age. 10 years later, which felt like yesterday, things did not change. Jack graded with a degree in English and Communications from a runner-down Women’s college that has not purpose anymore. 7 of those classes had the same Marxist professor he always hated. His last class was a private session with him on Shakespeare. Jack was traumatized from the whole event.

 

And yet, it was only 6 months ago did he have to feel that terrible trauma one more time. His degree is crammed in his bedroom. Jack wasn’t so sure whatever it was an achievement or a mark of toutrue. 

 

Monica protected Jack 5 years of his educational career. She was there for him. From the four different schools he tried out, Monica was there to help Jack. 

 

She was downstairs, doing something. 

 

It was time to get up. 

 

Before Jack woke up, a ghostly finger entered his mouth. It felt like a human. A finger that would bend his lips. A soft whisper, “wake up asshole.” 

 

It was the sound of his brother, Darrin. 

 

Darrin, named after his father, was only 13 months older than Jack. 

 

It was not his finger, but the finger of a ghost. 

 

Jack woke up in a frenzy thinking it was his real brother. It was only his imagination. The feeling when sleeping on ones side consulates the brain and create a dazed dream that feels like reality. Jack’s heart was beating. 

 

Jack head to the bath. He looked at himself in the mirror. 

 

“Why did he? …who is he?”

 

In his late teens, Jack developed a habit of talking to himself. Since no one wanted to genuinely listen to Jack, he felt enabled to to talk to himself. His parents directed and regarded his “eccentric” behavior as a problem rather than a unique personality trait. Jack would make noises like a mewling animal near his parents, as a self-reference joke that his dad would call him “retarded” all the time. But for his brother, who was always out of the house, just neglected him.

 

Darrin had an older-brother complex. Although he was only a few months older than Jack. Jack was treated as “the baby” and he would always be referred to him by his nickname “Jacky” (which was quite embracing, since his family never once called him by his name of just Jack). Jack never was given or allowed the guidance by his family to become an “adult.” Rather, a facade was put over his reality. If he was to truly was to become an “adult,” he would have to move out of his house “on his own,” take his trust fund money, and invest it somewhere else. His parents wouldn’t guide him in his designs. But his dad would yell at him if he had the choice to go and his mom would persuade him to stay. At age 25, had a crossroad in his life he was never presented until now. Six months out of a college, a trust fund of over $100,000, and no friends or “social networks” that he know of. Jack had to find his “girlfriend” and possible “wife” on Ok Cupid, Match.com, DateMySchool, what ever convince he could find it at. The same with work. A friend told him about Indeed.com and Monster. Jack would apply at those same websites… building his resume and making petty lies that he was a normie so he could get hired. 

 

His spineless parents told him that “college would promise him a job.” Debt-free, Jack become skeptical of his so-called “college experience.” 

 

Within 5 years of his early life, he did learn about the world and how to write. Much of it Jack had to learn on his own. One bugs liberal teacher after another, Jack swept aside the propaganda and moved forward. …If the institution claims to be “liberation through education,” then, why were most professors and students following Cultural Marxist propaganda? 

 

It was last year, at the age of 24, did Jack read Arron Cleary’s book Worthless. A simple and short book (oddly published in 2011, the same year Jack started college), arguing that the Bachelor’s degree was universally useless in the economic world unless one makes sense of it in a new market. If Jack graduated with a “Frankenstien” degree of “English and Mass Communications,” therefor, to make money, Jack is suppose to teach English in South Korea and get his money through there. Ironically, most deluded norms “get” there college degrees in the arts that have practical foundation making money. …Jack, being a young 20-something entering college, did not have an agenda coming into college (in fact, Jack didn’t even know how to write, flunking his first English 101 class with an F). Through a series of different classes in the liberal studies (Middle Eastern history, Judaism and race, Japanese 101, Electronic music production, Sexuality and philosophy, Science-Fiction 1950-1970, Film history, Internet journalism, “Social Justice” in the Jesuit Tradition, Detective history, Tokyo Lit and Film, Left-wing “dissidents” in American culture, Foundations in Science, Calculus, Animals and fine arts…) Jack picked up many different perspectives and increased his knowledge about the world. However, these mere “survey” classes were not practical, but rather playful and consumerist in th end. It was his last year at a women’s college, did Jack realize that none of the material the professor’s taught was “authentic” with their actions. It came to his vision within Cleary’s book about the corruption of higher education, and Jack became falling down. At the age of 24, Jack had to suffer one final year in college. It was the worse year in his life. The same professor for 7 classes… annoying SJWs, Jews, bitchy white girls, and to make things set on fire, Donald Trump winning the election (it was the best graduation present Jack could ask for). 

 

Those 5 years felt like a dream for Jack. Waking up, Jack felt like he was only entering out of high school again at the age of 19. …Six years of his life flash by him. Six years later, he is stuck in this beach house… the same beach house he was at with his autistic best friend when he was 19. 

 

In those six years, did Jack fail to woo over a woman?

 

Monica was in the same house with her new Jewish boyfriend, Justin. 

 

Jack remembers Monica when she was 9 years old in elementary school. Jack, and his best friends, Dylan, Joey, and Austin, would play four corners together. Monica would pretend she was a jester to joke around while they played the game. Jack felt overwhelmed by such a friend. Years later, he would meet her again when he was 20 at the board game store. And within those five years, graduating out of college at the age of 25. Monica, who tried University of Chicago, who tried to move in with a boy she liked in Cininatti (which she never told Jack about, yet Jack texted her all the time when he was at Temple), and now moving to Exton with her newly found boyfriend on Craigslist (which took less than two months to become a couple—more like two weeks), she had to haunt Jack again in the same house he witness before his teenage years were over with. 

 

She was haunting him. 

 

Was Jack a failure? He had six years to determine his new direction in life. He dated girls, but to no success, did they have romantic outings or a complete commitment like most norms are doing today. 

 

Jack never had sex in his life. Jack never put his penis in a vagina. The only “sex” he ever got when he was 18 and 23. The same fat stalker girl that sucked his dick twice. Was it sex? More like a playful act. Jack never stripped naked in front of a girl. 

 

Jack was officially the 25-year-old virgin. Give it five more years, he would become the 30-year-old virgin. 

 

Was he a loser? He tried his best to get with a girl. It never worked out. Always on the first or next dates, did the relationship immediately end to “let’s just be friends.” Jack tried to be an Alpha, by reading the works of Roosh V or Goldmund. Did they work? No. One date he met from match.com, a Chinese woman of 28, where the date went perfectly well. Jack gave a welcoming hug, followed by holding hands walking to the restaurant, and a goodbye kiss on the lips before she got the bus. 

 

But like all women, there is always that “one little thing” she didn’t like about the realtionship.

 

This woman that Jack was “too fast.” She wanted no hugs, hand holding, or end of day kisses. 

 

…And the most embracing part, the woman found out about Jack’s avant-garde pornogrphic literature book about his love for Asian women. She called it “good writing,” but thought both did not match (ironically, on match.com). 

 

Jack cried. The date was a perfect example of getting everything right, but failing just with that “one little thing.” Was it a culture clash? He could of acted like a consenting robot, did not show signs of affection, and shutted up about his erotic fiction. …But Jack was so excited someone on the internet found fascination with him (it hardly happens). 

 

Why would two human beings, that are looking for love, would not get together? You think both sides would consent and accept the person who they are… 

 

“Consent culture,” they called it. A disease of Western man and liberal society. An “individual” would never know the true value of what nature wants. 

 

These dates kept happening over and over again with Jack. …Jack was handsome, good-looking, and strong like Elliot Rogers. But it was always the girl that told him “I don’t like brown hair.” Something so stupid and frivolous, that at the age of 20, Jack would of been married. 

 

“A 25-year-old virgin,” Jack thought looking into the mirror. He wasn’t a loser. He was accomplished in the arts. But was “useless” when it came to the job market or the pre-socratic world. 

 

The world ruled by chads and stakes. 

 

Jack wanted to be a husband and a father. Would that ever be possible in his life time? Or did the culture of his zeitgeist reject his personality and culture for who he was, refusing him to have a natural love in life? 

 

Jack put on some boxer shorts and a stripped shirt. …Jack never showed for his clothes. He was owned by his parents. Jack had low self-confidence. 

 

Every morning was like this. For the past 10 years old his life, he couldn’t recall an event that was special. He lived in the same suburban house in mainline pennsylvania for 20 years (5 years old is when he remembered moving in). Every day was the same. He had to go to school five days of the week, his mom stayed home, and his dad worked the night shift. Not once did he remember a stable time when the family ate dinner together. It was odd enough that his dad acted like a 28 year old in a 50 year old body. At first, Jack’s experience with his family was quite neutral. He thought verbal abuse was normal. Until he was 15, did he realize he was treated unfairly. At the age of 25, he was aloof to commit suicide. He prime years were being wasted by ownership from his parents. His dad told him to move out with his trust fund, but it was obsolete, since there was no place to go. Jack had no friends. His mom coddled him forever. Jack, just like his other white millibar peers, had the money, but lack the personality of his friends. He had a set of cards that made him get into a disadvantage. 

 

Walking downstairs, Jack would hear the screaming and rabbling of his father. Sitting there with his stomach out and his tattoos. An old washed-up chad from the gen-x generation that though he was rather a baby boomer. Jack felt isolated from his family. He would be so happy to hear the news that he was actually adapted. To have the same blood from a racially mixed Irish/French/Polish/Hungarian family was embarrassing. A pure mutt without any background. Middle-class, boring 9-5 work, and arrogant individualism. It wasn’t so much an innate thing, but a personality choice practice by a typical white person with a trust-fund, an upper-class background, and an education. This was the greatest poison among white people, their love for radical queerness. 

 

His dad was talking mindlessly to Monica’s jewish boyfriend. Jack would quickly walk past them without making eye-contact with either one. There was no reason for him to be apart of the dialogue (verbal abuse and awkwardness assured). Jack was conditioned to feel like he was retarded (and that was obviously not true, with someone of an IQ of 120 and above average handsome appearance). But how in the world was his dad an ugly looking wannabe gangster, and his mom and stay-at-home thot? 

 

Jack already imagined his diet today. A mix of Apple Jacks and Honey Nut Cheerios in the morning, potato chips at lunch, steak and stove-oven french fries for dinner, and a workout session to kill off the extra fat. To combat such useless food, he had to eat apples or bananas, or take his daily multivitamin, fish oil, Vitamin C, etc. 

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Old Asian-Aryan About Page

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hW7Eqsd9Z7c

I know what you're thinking. This “Asian-Aryan” thing sounds “degenerate,” “cuck-like,” or “Jewish,” and that the promotion of racial mixing is what the alt-right is against!

First, I do not advocate racial-mixing. I advocate “Asian-Aryanism.”

If the alt-right is to succeed, then everyone, and I mean every homogeneous race on this planet, needs to have some sense of self-determination and racial awareness for a greater good. That sounds great, doesn’t it?

Therefore, Asian-Aryanism acts like an alt-right scene for Asian-Americans. An anti-sexist, anti-nihilistic, anti-hedonist, Men-Going-Their-Own-Way determined to achieve an Asian wife, a professional job, and three Hapa children. This is for every Asian living in America, for every Asian-loving White person, and… for every half White/Asian child who…

Stop right there!

“Hapas?” …Hafus?

“No, no, no, no! You said you were against racial mixing! They don’t have a proper racial background! These bastard mutts and their sinful parents! How selfish of you! Either they choose their White side or there Asian side!”

Umm… Ok… but don’t they still have “degenerate” genes even if they chose a side? They are neither pure White or Asian. So why push it under the rug?

I think the best solution… for your own European Imperium or imagined Ethnostates, is to simply put all those dirty “race traitors” into multiple cities each the size of Wilmington. Call it an independent state.

Please, whatever you do, don’t go on a “day of the rope” scenario and kill all the pretty Asian wives of the already handsome and athletic young white men who are married to them.

Yes, you heard right, White males / Asian female… and Asian males / White female married couples with Hapa children, are allowed in the Asian-Aryan country. They must show the utter most devotion to a pan-Western-Confucius/Shinto culture of racial devotion to the new great race. That simple. Let it be known that to live as an Asian-Aryan, one must become an “Asian-Aryan.”

What’s that?

First, those people you call “weebs” are just misguided White Americans that need a healthy diet and daily exercise in their life. We want our men to have the bodies like Adonis. And for the women? They are already beautiful and caring to begin with. You may call our women “fish-like,” “insects,” or “gook-faced,” but you just don’t understand.

“Asian-Aryanism” is a prideful term, not a degenerate one.

“Enough science-fiction! Why are you even advocating such a stupid and troll-like philosophy? Can’t we all do normie things and not think about such postmodern problems?”

I have been getting tons of hate mail from the far-right, the far-left, normies, and disgruntled Hapas. I don’t need to argue with Asian women that are married to White men. All they have to do is self-realized what they have done.

You know, the far-right will say I’m “Jewish” and will want to throw me in the oven.  And then the far-left will say I am “insensitive” and not treating people as universal.

Guys, use your mind for once. This is not about you.

Asian-Aryanism is so controversial, that both far ends of the Western political spectrum, hate what I have to say. I believe, however, that both political sides know that Asian-Aryanism is righteous and true.

“What the hell is Aryanism? You sound like a Nazi! Better yet, that’s an oxymoron. Aryans are NOT Asian!”

Ok, “Asian-Aryanism” is a whimsical term. And it has certainly got your attention. But in the context of “Aryanism,” what “perfect” race are we talking about?

Once again, I don’t have to advocate racial mixing… Because it is already happening in most major, liberal metropolitan cities in America!

What is that perfect “Asian-Aryan” race I am talking about?

White boyfriends take their Asian girlfriends to punk rock shows, art galleries, nerd conventions, and vegan restaurants. Have you seen that before?

And later in life, the children of those WMAFs are sent to Chinatown or mainline elementary schools. Always in a hip, urban, suburban, stuff-white-people-like, approved location. Namely, Trader Joe’s and Starbucks are incubating the new race of people.

And just remember this, they can’t be “white” now! I would call them Asian-Aryan!

However, do point this truth out to any normie with an Asian girlfriend or wife. We like to call them a “new-cuck.” You get something like this:

“Oh no! This has nothing to do with me discriminating and choosing an Asian wife! I love her! And that was a spiritual and universal choice! I would of chose anyone! But I choose her! Race doesn’t matter to me! Why do you care what she is?”

Yeah right.

White man, you made your choice.

“New-cucks” are real. They are worse than just a “cuck.” Not only do they race-mix, but they deny their future destiny and race. Sadly pretending everything is universal. And then they go ahead and practice Asian culture and say it has nothing to do with that. This is exactly new-cuck behavior.

A race mixing White man or women who refuses to put their racial consciousness first, is an opponent of mine.

I am actually a European advocate. I want to preserve both the European and Asian races. Without them, without Mom and Dad supporting us, we would not have this beautiful culture called Asian-Aryanism.

I am not anti-white, and I hate Noel Ignatiev. I do not want to abolish the White race. I know “Jennifer Suzuki,” the pen name of some erotic-writing troll, would like to see Asian-Aryanism coined as the new White people. Maybe that will happen if the new-cucks win this war. But I would like to see in the future separate and conserved people. However, Asian-Aryanism is happening and is not dying down.

We are Angry Hapas, Asian-Americans, isolated White nerds and WMAF/AMWF couples, who just don’t give a fuck anymore and want to yellow-pill the Western world.

You heard right, I would like to yellow-pill you.

Trust me, Asian-Aryanism is a friend of all forms of nationalism and a friend of all far-left, edgy street culture. We are avant-garde and normative at the same time.

If you have an Asian girlfriend or boyfriend, take pride in that. Chances are, you might as well have kids someday! But make sure they are on the White side of things.

Am I confusing you now?

Look, make sure they argue and defend a state which puts both their own White/Asian interest first! We live in a society that denies White racial consciousness to White people and to every single half-White person.

Now are Asian-Aryans the new White or Asian people? No. You could “whitewash” Asians, and then they become “white.” And for the opposite case, you could send a Hapa to go study in Northeast Asia so that they become more “asian.” But whatever happens in the future, your Hapa children will develop a symbiotic destiny with other like minded Asian-Aryans.

“Whitewashed” or “Asianized,” the crossroads are leading to one destination.

Trust me, this has so much to do with White culture as it has to do with Asian culture. It’s why these duel personalities will eventually become apart of a single “Aryan” identity.

… Sorry, I am not advocating for other non-whites, like Blacks and Mexicans, to racially mix into Asian-Aryanism. Asian-Aryanism is a unique religion exclusively for the relationship between White and Asian people. I really don’t care about “muh freedomz.”

God bless whatever you do. But Black Male / Asian Female coupling isn’t a thing. And don’t try and call it “Afro-Asian-Aryanism,” because what I am doing isn’t a joke either. We are against the multicultural and diverse paradigm.

If you would like to associate with a darker and black race of Asian-American people, then make up your own institutions and find your own idols. Start with Billy Blanks and Jero. Look up Ganguro and Gyaru fashion (I love that stuff). Become self-determined!

I will support you and be an ally, but I will defend my Asian-Aryan people first. Don’t race-mix because you want a utopian, universal, brown-skin, “cafe-ole” society. I will then become your enemy.

I am against what Richard von Coudenhove-Kalergi once said about an “Asian-Negroid race,” oddly being formed to make a civilized Ancient Egyptian one. Nope. I don’t like that one bit. I get where he is coming from, but he is wrong on several points.

Coudenhove-Kalergi knew there was going to be an Asian-Aryan race. I know that feel bro. However, such a hypocrite he was, to support universal race-mixing in the underclasses, and the preservation of a single racial (((elite))) class at the top. I am not Black, and I have none of those racial traditions and background.

I don’t want my future children and grandchildren to look like Whoopi Goldberg or Aubrey Drake Graham. I want them to look like aesthetically pleasing, healthy, Asian-Aryan anime characters. To say Whites and Asians should mix with with African genes is quite offensive and destructive to what both Western and Eastern societies have built.

No, I am not advocating what Coudenhove-Kalergi has said before. He is totally misguided and was confused on his own racial identity. I am rather criticizing and fixing his utopia.  He himself was, by birth, an “Asian-Aryan.” And he could of been one! However, he has failed to see his potential as an Asian-Aryan and then forced a multicultural and Jewish elite, one-world government ideology instead.

The multicultural paradigm ironically has created a large influx numbers of WMAF coupling and offspring than ever before. In the diversity market, White men will choose Asian women over everyone else. The truth is harsh. This is another reason why the single-race utopia will not work. White men don’t want other non-white women, unless they follow their code of attraction. That is, the tradition of Western Civilization.

Asian women automatically win in this discourse. The ideology of Multiculturalism will be around so as long as White men truly get what they want from the globalized world, and that is the “model minority” of Asian women and their culture.

Watch R.A. The Rugged Man debate Jared Taylor on the Gavin McInnes show. Who are the two major races that are creating racism? “Asians and Whites,” The Rugged Man says. Those are the two new racist. Together as one.

When that ideology of “diversity” and multiculturalism is truly gone, Asian-Aryanism will replace it. Imagine all these new-cucks, with their Asian wives and half children, praising themselves in the future rainbow nation…

“We now live in a multicultural society! Everyone is racially mixed and we are free of racism!”

… Not!

Those fools! Whites and Asians are the only ones that have mixed, and now they are a new race of people that is ultimately perfected! That old paradigm was just a bridge for the East and West to perfect one another in a chaotic world!

Again, I am against multiculturalism and diversity. Asian-Aryanism is a “Plan B” philosophy if White Nationalism loses against white genocide.

The word “Aryan” is certainly whimsical. I am not referring to a group of “Asian Neo-Nazi” roleplay and cosplaying found on some image board. This is real what I am talking about. You might think “Asian-Aryan” is an inappropriate term, since why call normal people Nazis?

I am talking about a group of radical people that exist today and need to yellow-pill the Western world in order to self-actualized new-cucks into Asian-Aryans.

Why is Asian-Aryanism happening? Well, again, who wants to date a fat White, Amy Schumer-looking, blue-haired feminist? That of course, is a unique byproduct of the culture and nature of White women. And I will promise you, you will not find that in Asian girls (they have something called “yellow feminism” by the way, and that’s just a love for White men).

Asian-Aryanism is mainly a group of guys on the left-wing faction of the alt-right with Asian girlfriends. Some of us are ex-MGTOW who realized that not all women are bad, and only Asian women are the redeemable angels.

This is who I am. I am an Asian-Aryan. As well with every other yellow-pilled WMAF/AMWF couples and Hapas. We grew out of this “weeb” phase and now we are adults approaching reality.

We all make choices and stick by them.

We have all have duties, responsibilities, and growing up to do.

I will continue to spread the Asian-Aryan ideology over on my YouTube channel and beyond. Feel free to criticize what I am doing.

The future will be one day belong to everyone who wants self-determination and racial awareness. And that also belongs to every racially mixed group of people. Asian-Aryanism has so much potential.

Now, do you have an Asian girlfriend/boyfriend or ever wanted one? Do you like Asian culture and the West? I think you should join the movement!

Please check out my YouTube channel for the latest in Asian-Aryan activity!

Monday, May 15, 2017

How Orbitial Gots His Asian American Girlfriend

I have caused somewhat of a controversy from my previous article, “The Proud Beta Male.”

The argument found in the hard “iron” or “glorious” pill faction of the alt-right, is that a beta male is a disgusting troll or even an evil being. I have argued that the beta male is a good towards society, and that we should promote more of his righteous attitude.

However, the term “beta male” is often confused with the far-left, SJW normie types that hover around their bossy asian girlfriend 24/7. We call this the “orbital, beta male cuck.” Now, is this “orbital” (henceforth, we will call him that) a good thing?

I think it is best to describe the history of how and why the Orbital is promoted and around today.

No doubt about it, I have traumas from my undergrad years of college. Every day, from Monday through Friday, I would come across this geeky White Male, Asian Female couple that would sit on the bench right outside the college hall. They would be smooching and holding hands like some sort of high school, puppy love cartoon. The worse part of it all, is that the girl and guy would attend some of my classes. Right and before the classes would start, either him or her would have to kiss each other before the class would begin. When the class was over with, they would see each other after class. It was even more embarrassing to see both of these motherfuckers holding hands and walking to the cafeteria together. Even at awkward times, fucking holding the door for them was worse.

I was madly jealously. I really did like his Chinese girl. She talked to me a couple of times. I even told her, “I like your hair.” I could of been like Roosh V, and stole his girl.

Meanwhile, this guy would not say a word in class. I believe he had a speech impediment or something. I could not understand who was in control of the relationship. …The girl, or the guy?

These two kids, who I will not speak their names, “yellow-pilled” me to understand that there was a greater nature in the company of Asian women.

The boy was an obvious oribital. He was the president of the video game club, and his girl, an actress for the theater club. …I like to think that the relationship was manufactured.

But for this couple, are they really “having the time of their life?” I have analyzed Erik Erikson’s psychosocial narrative and suggest that it has played a signifiant influence in the millennial generation. Everyone wants to believe they are a protagonist to an anime, ironically, that no one is watching. The Orbital and his Chinese girlfriend is no expectation.

…Now is this relationship a good thing?

From the looks of it, everyone who is red-pilled hates the Orbital and his cucky actions.

Going down the list, we have,

1. Plays video-games

2. Asian girlfriend

3. Speech problems

4. Wears geeky or “nerd” clothing

5. Never speaks in class

6. Arrogant position in a meaningless club

7. Never looks you in the eye

…and so forth.

We might say that this Orbital is part “of a phase” and that “he will grow out of it.” That maybe, he will be red-pilled when he discovers “the truth” about the pre-socratic world. Namely, if he wants to do good in society, he has to become like The Golden One.

…But for all we know, he could be really pathetic in his entire life. He will marry his Chinese girlfriend and start the process all over again.

…I am very critical of the undergrad college today, as it has became a Disney-World vacation resort for late teenagers and early twenties to “experience life” and to let them “roleplay” out situations that they might do in the professional world. Ironically, when they gradauted at 22, the world IS NOTHING like college. The dark truth is that their young life has been swindled by an experienced and lying capitalist (namely, your Cultural Marxist professor and advisor) and are brainwashed with fantasies at a critical part in their social development. The system wants you to be a good consumer. To counter these claims, the college passively promotes “college dorm parties,” “drugs,” and “sex orgies” to make a student more “experienced” in the savage, decadent, guilt-ridden world we call “reality.”

For more information on the topic, pick up Aaron Cleary’s book, Worthless.

As for the Orbital and his harmless (and quite chubby) Asian girlfriend, what should we do with them?

…He’s really a harmless guy after all. He’s just trying to find authenticity. He’s in the pursuit of “the good life.”

But why is his life cringy and quite problematic for every fashy goy that looks towards self-improvement, and eventually Imperium?

The history of relationships and dating in the Western world is a hard one to explain. But I can best describe the problem, by a man name of Percy Shelley, who thought it was okay to write a “Hymn to Intellectual Beauty.” It was that a lover should be judge on “what’s inside” that counts. Later on, Shelley’s artistic expression was later turned into a science by John Stuart Mill. His essay, “The Subjection of Women” is an analysis and experiment to create a perfect, white woman based upon “intellectual beauty.” Give it another century, and we now have rampant feminism and the tragedy of the sexual revolution. As said by F. Roger Devlin in his book, “Sexual Utopia in Power,” it wasn’t men’s sexuality that was liberated, it was the women’s.

Our horrible dating system today is based solely on the ideal of “preferences.” If the guy has a six-pack, is a Christian, a lumberjack, and never swears, and yet his hair is brown and NOT blonde, it is therefore a woman’s right not to date him. She won’t even know what is actually good for her. You can thank the power of feminism and the sexual revolution for such a folly.

This outrageous “dating prejudice” has created terrible relationships between white men and women. Men are flocking towards Asians, and women are being picked up by black guys.

We hate the socratic lie of reality. The liberal establishment is failing. We known that the Orbital and his Asian girlfriend is only a mere byproduct of what is going on. Should we feel shame for him, or should we make him our mortal enemy?

That is the very reason why I wrote The Proud Beta Male, is because a good and honest relationship is open with a good communication. There is no mind games, body signaling, or meta abstractions to know beforehand or improve upon a relationship. This in return, has created the Manosphere and pick-up-artist collective. Why should we try and learn “game?,” when the best girl knows a man by heart? It should be straight forward like a “yes or no” question.

I believe that Asian women, and as well other non-white girls who are ignorant of the Western world, make the best wife in these days of the Kali Yuga.

So when I see Orbital and his Asian girlfriend, not only do I get jealous, I would of liked to have a relationship what Orbital has. The problem is that I disavow the new-cuck and pussy liberal behavior of the Orbital. I will go so far to say that he doesn’t deserve to sit in the halls of Xanadu, doing absolutely nothing but consuming and promoting the liberal regime.

The Orbital needs to get yellow-pilled. It’s how Asian-Aryans are made.

And chances are, he probably didn’t get the girl. It was the fat Chinese girl that had daddy issues and was looking to get with him to fulfill her bitchy complaints.

RAMZPAUL said in one of his videos, “What do you call a man who apologizes if he makes a mistake? -an honest man. Now what do you call a man who apologizes even if he has committed no mistakes? -a boyfriend.

The Proud Beta Male is unapologetic. He likes himself and is nothing like The Golden One. He is Ronnie Martin, composing futuristic electronic music for a utopian society. His intentions are pure. He is “pilled” on every subject you can think of. And it’s fine for him to act intellectual as well as to be a good guy that has a lot to give. He isn’t selfish or pathetic. He is a good guy that everyone looks up to and is a role model. He is your friend and open to talking anytime. He is an Übermensch for a new Golden age.

…And quite possibly, he could be an Asian-Aryan.

Middle-Class Midget Martian Asian Girls

I through with them completely.

When I was a teenager, I would bawl my eyes out, go down on my knees, and begged to be a good friend of these types of closet-lesbian Asian girls.

I’m a man now. I don’t bow down to racially-confused dwarfs.

But a few years ago, when I was in band, and on the cross-country team, and when I looked like some dumb prop from Degrassi, I loved these Martian-looking Asian girls.

What’s not to love? At first sight, they come off as a candidate for a honest housewife.

Really?

They are ugly, little, insignificant, tom-boy acting, 5-foot, kindergarten, Americanized, fucking GOOKS with glasses.

“Oh well… Beauty is the the eye of the beholder!”

As Jonathan Bowden once said about the “pagan ethics,” to paraphrase, “The smarter you are, the more beautiful you are, the more stronger you, compared to the inverse, that is, the more dumber you are, the more uglier you are, and the more weaker you are!”

And oh my! How ugly these girls really are both the inside and outside!

I use to text these girls daily like an honest boyfriend constantly would. I hoped they could still love me for who I was. I wish they would text me in my time of need. …Not to call myself pathetic, but I was fooled. These girls are fucking manipulators.

These ponytail coddlers act like their polar opposite, the typical bimbo cheerleader. These middle-class martians play mind games, act upon body signals, and are into meta abstractions upon dating. They layer themselves with this nice facade of being caring and loving. …Don’t fall for it.

These types of Asian girls (I don’t even want to call them “Asian,” since they are byproducts of “Asians in America”) act like they got a pair of fucking tits to judge people with!

The more uglier you are, the more stupider you are!

The best girl I ever out with, and lost connections with, loved me for who I was. This girl cared about me AND HAD A NICE PAIR OF TITS. Chinese, of course! She was beautiful, and I owned her. We were both beautiful, honest, and intelligent beings that gravitated towards one another.

And then when you start to think that you have a better chance with a gook-ugly girl, you might think to yourself, that you have an advantage because you got the money, and you look like a remarkable, healthy, white Aryan. Any little gook girl would want to be with an Aryan prince, right?

Wrong.

Ugly girls like ugly guys. They have zero experience and uphold NO social values when it comes to be treated with respect or chivalrous care. These little fuckers think it’s “sexist” when you hit them up!

I tried dating this one Korean SJW girl… I really did! She was nice and everything. The thought about her makes me pissed-off now. With my goggles taken off, I just see a little middle-class martian that has no right to be around me. She won’t even respect me for being a good guy. Why? Well, because I don’t apply for her “preferences” that she might have. To her, I’m a “creeper” and a “stalker” (with a fucking lean body and strong arms, really?), and that I “say mean things.”

If he texts you, you better fucking text back, or we will cry and get nervous if you don’t. Don’t leave us hanging on a cliff! We are not out to kill you. Any guy texting you wants to start a relationship. Is it a “yes” or “no” to you? If “no,” please, give me some time. We really love you. But seriously, you don’t even know your own fucking self. Any man, and I mean ANY man, can play “game” on you and “wife” you up. Was it your choice in the matter? No. It wasn’t. It was you being a fucking bitch and making men-woman relationships even worse. Thanks for promoting feminism and the manosphere game culture, fucking little gook girl.

Most of these video-game playing nerd girls hypocritically have ugly-ass white boyfriends. They don’t even have a college degree or a trust-fund. They work their ass off and wage-cuck at a 711 or some low-life indirect sales position. …Ha, and you think I like the “working-class?” Sounds like the slave mentality to me.

I’m a supreme gentlemen. You should be fucking grateful I find you attractive, even masturbating to you before bed. Every genuine guy does that. You have no fucking clue what you really want.

I am advocate of Asian-Aryanism. I really am. I like when guys have Asian girlfriends and nice Asian guys have white girls. However, there can be no alliance or collective with these new-cuck, bipolar closet-lesbian, Martian girls, with their fucking gross-ass, Call of Duty, Magic: The Gathering-playing Asshat, which we call her empowering “white boyfriend.” Fucking gross dude. This is the shit we are against.

Bitch, I tried to yellow-pill you, but you just don’t get it. You want to live in the white man’s world of “multicultralism and diversity.”

For fucks sake, I’m pretty sure having sex with Margret Cho is superior compared to your ungreatful pussy.

Most white guys, and black guys, fucking date-rape most Asian girls and have their bastard babies. All those mommies go into a fit and pretend it’s a new and stable family. Come on. You don’t have a say in that relationship.

How dare you disobey your strict, Confucius parents. Mom and Dad both want the best for you. Sure, they want you to marry in your own race, but if you really were healthy, you would go full on Imperium and choose the best white boy to go out with. Not that faggot you met in Photography class, lives in a dirt-shit apartment, has the cash, but fucking lies to you while you like to believe “he’s your guy.”

Fuck you, you little gook. Your fucking going out with a new-cuck and accepting the tragic fate which white nationalist call “oven worthy.”

And say back to me,“your such a stalker and a weirdo for saying all these things. Your a hater.”

…You just don’t fucking get it, do you? You hang out with my friends like it was one big narrative since our elementary school days. You take fucking selfies and claim everyone is your friend. When anyone wants to be open with you, you choose your friends to be open with.  I fucking apply to be your boyfriend, and I am still not good enough for you because I don’t like the same gay anime your watching.

Bitch, I lift weights and rock out to Xiu Xiu. I’m a Eurasian-American Hipster with huge pride and accomplishments you fucking wish you had. You should be asking for my trust-fund money, my degrees, and my social connections.

I will admit I have low self-confidence, but it doesn’t give you the fucking right to shit on me and say “seek therapeutical help.”

Your the one that sees me in the mall and runs away like a little insecure bitch. Cheating on me, hanging out with your wayyy cooler, now fucking ex-boyfriend, who plays Smash Bros and acts like a PC-little faggot.

Your the all the same. You think I’m some kind of stalker. I’m come to church with a nice plaid shirt, I shaved, yeah, and then you hide in the corner. Like your running away from me!

Do you have any morals?

You are all the same.

I was going to write something about “Middle-Class Asian-Aryans,” but all of them are non-redeemable and don’t deserve my support. All of them are race-mixing, low-energy fucking degenerates, ultimately controlled by the Jews who don’t care about you.

Those of you who find Asian-Aryanism beneficial are my true friends. Those of you who are the “new-cucks” need to get purge in the coming ethnostate race war.

Sorry for sounding like William L. Pierce, but this is the truth.

You little Middle-class Martian Midget Asian-American Girls fucking disgust me. Awkward handjobs, disgusting dog-slobbering blowjobs, flat-chested, insecure, full of daddy issues, …hell, I’m through with all of you. Your just like white girls. That’s what you really are. A bunch of bitchy white girls that are Asian.

None of you ever gave me a chance. Even when I come back to you, even when I sent out another text, you still think I’m some kind of stalker or a creep. Cry and tell this to your ugly-fucking beta boyfriend.

Fuck you bitch. If I hit a woman, it’s going to be you.

…Huh, as a post-script, this  sadomasochist race-play is turning me on. No wonder why most of you little gook girls like to be dominated by a white guy.

Whatever. True Asian-Aryans have beautiful and kind Asian women of the red sun. This is all about purging degenerates. No new-cucks allowed.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

POEM CLASS #3

4-28-17

 

The cocnept of the line. 

 

What are lines? What is the meter? The sylabal count? 

 

What is the sound of the words? Verse, how do you see it as an image? 

 

…see this collection of sentences?

 

I took the line breaks out! how can you break the line of the poem?

 

did you reaarange the poem in your own break?

 

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time

I have been half in love with easeful Death,

call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

to take into the air my quiet breath;

now more than ever seems it rich dies,

 

 

…The poem is by Keats! Keats did something different. HE SPACED THE LINE BEFORE THE WORDS STARTED. You, made it like a hiaku, she, made it like a longer poem.

 

But the original poem, has spacing in the beginning of the poem. Keats messes with the concept of the line. 

 

Ode to a Nightengale by John Keats. 

 

Once you caught the rymth, 

 

…for you can pick it out by phase. 

 

iambic sylabals. Japanese. 

 

da-da-da-da-da-daa-da

 

If “pain” dosent rymth, we should recognize that the syallbas match.

 

Lets look about another poem. Where the syllabus are diffenrt. 

 

Breaks can be hidden, or they can be open. Should the idea be open in a single phrase? Or, should the information be concealed, and be a cliff hanger? 

 

Shifting sand snow dunes

 

OR

 

Shifting sand snow 

dunes

 

 

Spacing can make you feel a sense of meditation of “space” of thinking about the concept of fine art. 

 

Remember, poetry, either it can be  lyrics to music or fine art. When has potrey been used as a straight forward lanauge? 

 

An Octopus by Marianne Moore

 

Moore experts ideas from national park brochures. She quotes or “cuts up” and uses “poor man plagaism.” 

 

Iamges using word as fine art on a war. Imagine if her poem was printed on a piece of paper, and sold in a gallery. What does the viewer see? Art?

 

 

Imagine poetry with no breaks! Think of it, like a “wall of text.” IS it still art?

 

How do you break it? Do you leave it alone? Is it rambling of English? What is it? How do we contrast the image, prose, and sound? Does it have one thing and not the other? OR does it have everything? Who is defining poetry and what is going on? 

 

Beauty by B.H. Fairchild. 

 

Imagine his poetry in one big prose. A wall of text. What is it? A Disgusting comment. Or fine art? 

 

Five beats. 

 

What is Seamus Hanley’s translation of Beowulf is like? Does that ever break with the Anglo-Saxon langauge. 

 

hand and foot, Venturing closer,

his talon was raised to attack Beowulf

where he lay on the bed; he was beating in

with open claw when the alert hero’s

comeback and armlock forestalled him uttery.

 

 

How do we operate words? Does a poem have to make sense the way its broken up the way it is? OR is it totally separate? 

 

Do we oppose something upon the words, or do we chisel the words and find the aesthic groove? What kind of games can we play it? 

 

The poem… can it be the shape of something? A picture of something. Can the words make that picture? Arranging the letters in different and cool ways. 

 

 

Deep autumn and the mistake occures

the plum tree blossum, twevle blossums

on thre differnt branches,

which for us,

personally

means nothing this coming spring

or perhaps none

on just those beaches on which just now

suddenly,

a grey-gold migratory bird

—still here?—crisping, 

multiplying the wrong air,

shifting branches with small hops,

then stilling—very

still—breathing into this oxygen

which also pockets 

my looking hard…

 

 

See how she broke the poem in her own way, from the original wall of text she had to comfort? 

 

Single phrases, routining phrases, single words, cliffhaning words. What should you do? 

 

Do-Do-Do-Do

Do

Do-D

-o-Do.

 

 

Embodies by Jorie Graham

 

Long lines and then short ones. Why does she do it. She wants you to focus all your thoughts on one big line, but then glancfully, as your skimming through it, focus on the short lines.

 

Again, this is a battle between “Attentive” vs. “Passive” reading. 

 

Deconstruction = Passive

Academic and logical = Attentive

 

 

Sea Change by Jorie Graham - Poems.

 

 

When somebody speak poetry, treat the speaker as an intrsument. Is it good hear the person speaking the poem? This will bring the topic of “Poetry Slam.” 

 

How do you distinguish the words between the speaker and devoted of him or her? 

 

Does your perception change when you hear poetry by a grumpy old lady, vs a beautiful young girl? And a masculine sneaky man?

 

Think of poem books as musical compistions. Verse, thinking about poem books as coffee table comic books / fine art galleries. 

 

Avoid yourself from reading the poem like a intructive lanauge. Think of it as a flow.

 

Contrast it with E.E Cummings and Jorie Graham. Cummimngs is playing with grammar and punctuation. Graham is playing with how we are reading the text and compromising. 

 

Poets, unlike artist, can control your mind abusing and explotiing logical language.

 

…Now, can you latch on to the poetry? Should you understand it? Do you get the aesthics that is being used? Text is used as paint, not words. 

 

 

Moore’s very image and stylish good sound words. Looks good, sound good, feels good. 

 

——

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

POEM CLASS #2

4-18-17

 

Find your poetry magazines in the basement.

 

The words you choose. 

 

Write a poem about the following objects:

 

Four points (this)

Fire, Water, Wind, Earth.

Every stab it’s worth. 

 

Silver and unique (this)

Use to get the treat

Check to see if the meat

Is pink,

Hear, take a seat. 

 

The fork. 

An instrument 

That we invent

 

Most used as a boon

The poor little spoon. 

 

 

What are the different approches you have seen?

 

Using metaphors. One surrounds the objects, related around it. A relic of those moments, than trying to articulate what it looks like.

 

 

Fork by Charles Simic 

 

Read this poem is about a fork. Compare it to yours own observation. 

 

…What are the words that stick out at you?

 

“Cannibal.” “bleakness.” “Right out of hell.”

 

Strong words, allow the emotions, to gain more meaning, by contrast. The fork is bleak.

 

These are techniques you can apply to be a better artist. 

 

Word scientist word juggling. 

 

——

 

“What are some approches to write about a box?” 

 

Can you write a shorter poem about a box. More vivid and buzzing about the poem. Appearance, sensory, arousing… how can words do that as a reader to you? 

 

The poet reader is different from the average reader. THe poet reader is a viewer of fine art. He treats text as looking at fine art. 

 

What are different apporches might make it less about the box and more about aesthetics? 

 

A poem that will make a box that is present to use but leaves us with a specific feeling. What is that feeling you wish to convey to the observer? 

 

Try and feel the box. 

 

 

Shark tooth ribbon 

Compass of the north

Lavendar rug

Pointing to the south

 

That’s the secret.

Not what we known, 

But the esoteric images

Best bet, a treasure lays

 

Hidden in an ocean

Far off, 

On an island

With lot’s of sharks

And huts made of bark

 

The box is a key,

Of buried treasure 

Own by a lost Space cadet.

 

 

What are the images that you used?

 

What is the difference between adjatives and uses them in the world? 

 

 

An assorted collection of scabs picked off,

Smashed with a stick till the skin was soft,

Which his client drinker, and then fatally coughed. 

(dusty cup?)

 

Now, pick a poem from one of these books, choose / steal the words. And use them in a poem you made. Choose words. Cut and paste. 

 

 

(84)

seventy million

 

(117)

The city like a stone

dancer’s blood.

 

(44)

Life is not just sand and sun

for the crocdiles

 

(29)

a shadow stream.

 

(The penguin book of modern Urdu poetry. Selected and translated by Mahmoud Jama)

 

The Dancer’s blood

Soaked naked in the mud 

Majuranja smoke

The city is a stone

 

Our sins are condone

Life is not just sand and sun

Sex and games are always fun

For the crocodile,

Lives in a shadow stream. 

 

 

seventy-million—

crocodile—

stream—

sky —

sea—

god—

vanurable

throat 

lily—

embrace—

toxic— 

inuratah

 

 

The crodile god

That killed seventy-million

As the hindu gods embraced, a lily

From the sky, 

down onto a toxic stream

 

The sea of lost souls.

Vanauble to those who

drink the water, as they will get sick

Of soar throat.

 

The inurasha of four marble 

Bonging after one another.

 

Do not disobey

The crocodile’s leisure

…Ribirth and resseurction.

  

 

The word selection created it’s own shape. Did someone use it in a word that you never used it before? 

 

 

John Hogson: Upon reading love letters

 

…You should also look into lounge twisters and incorpparate them into your own poems. 

 

Dylan Thomas - Poem on his birthday 

 

— 

 

Poetry: Either clear, or is it dense… all words with meaning buried under it? 

 

The Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe. Hidden meanings, words used out of context, narrative like a barque fantasy, but means something else. 

 

Lisa Garley - Box of Blue Horses

 

She used the same method… she couldn’t write anything… and she saw a box with blue horses on it… and heres the poem!

 

How simple poem design can be. The differnce between poetry written on the spot vs. poetry written as a collection of words that sound simulating and collecting. 

 

 

Samus Healy - Badgers 

 

 

Do drugs and read Finnigan’s Wake. 

 

 

Poets like talking about words and getting high off words. Like smells, tastes, seeing, hearing, it takes a certain perversion to be a poet. 

 

 

What is the feelings that the poet is trying to get across for the observer? Will the obersver actually “read” the text? Or is the text just pretty and aesthically pleasing? 

 

 

You next assignment: Use a notepad, or your phone, and record in your memo… a word you like. Collect these words. As your collecting these words, put them together to make a poem. 

 

Buy a small notebook. Use your phone. If you like the word “meandering.” Record it… and put it in a favorite word dictionary… or make a verse with it. 

 

(save your word bank file. send it through email.)

 

 

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

POEM CLASS #1

4-12-17

 

Haikus:

 

Sunset falls

A thosand windows

A building collaspe

 

Frog on a lillypad

Looks at a pond

Echos with wrinkles

 

The sky is blue

Tints to an orange

Fades away another day

 

Twenty windows

Look down upon

Two couples walking

 

Cars drive by

While people walk

In a new direction 

 

Three color markers

R-G-B

Boards of Canada

 

Tomorrow I will do something

And then 

go back to bed

 

The littlest number

From A to Z

I saw drones

 

Five fingers type

Words with pictures

Meaningless and Useless

 

The dog barks

At his owner

To go home

 

I forgot your name

Life is unfair

Nothing is real

 

Raindrops fall

on a red wheel barrel

That I didn’t write

 

Tomorrow’s Harvest

Is where 

The dead will reach

 

Beware 

The Friendly Stranger

He said.  

 

 

Kobayashi Issei (Haiku writer)

 

——

 

The brown little dog. 

Three cats in a window.

-Are held togther 

-Pack together

-Wait for their owner

-Inside for the winter

-Waiting for the spring. 

Three cats

Brown dog

Waiting for spring

 

 

Poetry = Greek word that means “Making.”

 

The space between things, that you are making, makes a new lines, and concept. A new line with a picture. Another line with a new picture. New pictures following each other after one another. 

 

Inside

A Rooster Hen

Is envy with green 

 

Three concepts that follow on after another. 

Blinding rays

Warm breeze

Loud cars

 

——> Three images. A site. A feeling. And a noise. 

 

Observations. Of the echo system. Shifting through the echo system. 

 

Poetry 

Is bury, bury

Dead to me.

 

-Ron Sullivan 

 

Da Da 

Da Da 

Da Da Da

 

Also, take note of how the poem could also sound good as well. Swinburne. Shirley Shooks Swinful Sins. 

 

The way the speaker who is speaking the poem is also a musical instrument. The words that the speaker is speaking, is not a logical or systemic way of lanagage. 

 

If the poet speaks/sings, “go die,” he is not telling you to “go die,” as to kill oneself. He is rather expressing an emotion like to “go die.” 

 

The Death Ray 

Shoots through 

The breeze of Mars

Past Jetson cars

 

====> Rhyming is a techinuqe that can make the poem sound better. It’s not an applied rule. It’s a technique YOU MAY add your poem. 

 

When listening, focus on the way the poem is present. Then, reflect back how you feel when you heard. This is called “aesthetics.”

 

Listen to Ron Sullivan’s Xing. 

 

…You may want to look at a ryhming dictionary. 

 

…Play with words. That’s all your doing. It’s a game. A game because you are bored with the text. 

 

 

one cocoon

in the stone Buddha’s 

lap

 

 

Ezra Pound

 

In a Station of the Metro

THe apparition of these faces in the crowd;

Petals on a wet, black bough.

 

(Americanized Poem)

 

The difference between those two lines. 

 

 

Darker Than Black

Something to Do 

Have a Black Celebration

 

I’m Waiting

For the night to fall

to makes things bearable

 

Motorcycles fall

Turning inside 

An infinite gash. 

 

(moving objects, instilled objects, ups and down tehcniques).

 

$24

For three comics

I could be saving money. 

 

Green clouds

Around the bus

Going nowhere

 

I fall down endlessly

Down a red tube

And into a mircowave

 

Crying sorrows

Bleak well water 

Porno video 

 

3-6-5

9-1-7

5-8-11

 

For every time

You said the word “Microbe”

I deserve a quater 

 

60 second wipeout

The world ends 

Make my bed

 

Elliot Rogers 

LA Dogers 

Hob Goblin 

 

I ride down

Four trees

A big swastika 

 

…What is the discplene of poetry? What makes it aesthic? What makes it ugly?

 

 

Basho

 

In Kyoto,

hearing the cuckoo,

I long for Kyoto.

 

A complicated emotion to a simple experince. 

Keats - On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer. 

 

An expensive copy of a book they liked. 

 

A poem about their experince. 

 

Keats didn’t like Shelley. 

 

Poets.org

 

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Alphasmart Neo2 Test

Hello. So this is my first piece of writing with the AlphASMART Neo2. I dedicate this piece for Rabbit. Rabbit was intersetered in picking up the 3000. I will give my input on my first impressions writing. 

 

I am sitting in my living room looking at my puppy. She is eating scrambled eggs that my brother cooked for her. I am not sure whether I should look down on the LCD screen or should type looking forward. 

 

Testing… Testing out the the spacing. 

 

Ok?

 

Alright.

 

I don’t have the driver installed. It’s way too old for that kind of stuff. This machine is about 10 years old for the price of $22. 

 

I am quite comfratble using the Astrohaus FReewrite. But i might take this machine up as the homework killer and portable typewrite. I use my phone for internet surfing, and home computer for shitposting and watching videoss. THis machine is the  writing process. 

 

I have to learn more about that else this machine can do… I forgot that this machine has arrow keys.

 

Spell check? I won’t bother. The on/off button works fine. This Neo 2 came with a carrying bag. If the device is left on, or the power button is paused to too much, corrution can occur. Wait for the file to load and delete it. That’s what happened when i got this device. IT’s all fixed now. 

 

Let’s see… No use for the printer button. That is totally obsolete. The “find” button might be useful, to check for instances of repeietvie words. 

 

The “Home” button takes the cursor to the top of the page. The “End” button takes the cursor down to the end of the page. Way more useful then using the arrow cursors. “Applets” is not really useful. Maybe for a apps program. 

 

…Let me check the back of the device…

 

Hold on…

 

…”Neo automatically saves your text when your write things.” Ok. That’s good.

 

…Just watched an Alphasmart video on the topic of it’s function. The other function I find interesting is ctrl+O which is opening files. This device can save extra files for later… Not sure if i will use it for any beneficial purpose. 

 

…Now the last thing I have to find out if there is such a thing called a “word count.” I do bleive there is a “characther” out. This is important, since I want to focus on writing a least 2000 but nor more than 2500 words for a file (who knows?)

 

…Let me check on that.

 

…Crtl+W is the most important command. The word count. 430 words right now. 

 

Alright, so I think I got everythng covered on the Neo 2. 

 

This is a good device to get Rabbit, I can see it surpassing the Astrohaus Freewrite Already. Now I have to check file transfer speed. I have to plug in a USB cable and let it export the file into a textpad. 

 

Unlike the Freewrite, I press a button and it’s there. 

 

This thing might be a better choice than a freewrite. I can tell. 

 

This device will save you $450 bucks. 

 

-pe.

Monday, January 16, 2017

HELLFIRE TEMPLE DRAFT EXAMPLE

Hellfire Temple Draft.

 

1

You are in front of the Lengendary Temple. It is a big, Aztec-like, building. Trianglar in shape. The entrance you see in front of you is dark. You light on your tourch. As you enter the temple, the jungle ambience becomes silent. All you can hear is the sound of your footsteps.

 

You light your tourch in front of the wall. An ancient drawling shows that of stick figures throwing spears at a large square pig. 

 

There is an intersection between the wall.

Should you go left? - 2

Or should you go right? - 3

 

2

The left path leads you in front of an indoor lake. A lake inside a temple! There is dripping sounds coming from the cieling. The water is brown. It dosen't look like anything is living in it, or is even healthy. There is a sidewalk path next to wall. You sidestep across as you balance your torch. The lakes essence is mesmorizing. It feels like you could fall into the lake and drown. It is a scary thought. 

 

Ahead, you can see a glaring yellow light at the end. It must be an exit. 

 

However, there is also a pebble besides you. You have thoughts to throw it in.

Should you throw the pebble into the lake? - 4

Or ignore it, and countinue towards the light? - 5

 

3

Nothing written.

 

4

You throw the pebble into the brown water. 

The pebble dives into the water with a large "blup" sound. The lake is indeed deep. It echos across. The lake must strech a long distant ahead. The dripping of water countinues. Nothing appears the be living in the lake. Only you exist hear with your torch. You torch could possibly fall into the water. 

 

You quickly sidestep and reach for the yellow light ahead. 

Turn to - 5

 

5

Slowly balancing the torch and side-stepping against the wall, you reach the end. The glowing light is quite large. Observing it, the light is coming from a relic shaped as a bug, The shiny glow is emitting from it's back. It's six legs clinch to the wall. The thing is not alive. Right beside the bug, a hollow corridor streches. Pitch black. Good thing you have a lit torch lit. The bug's light looks pretty handy.

Should you further examine the bug? - 6

Or should you walk down the long, dark corridor ahead of you? - 7

 

6

You put down your torch and try to take the bug. It comes of the wall. The bug is quite light in size. You notice that at it's mouth, a red glare emits. It is a very strange relic. It could be worth money. But it's not that important. You may put the bug in your bag or leave it where it is. 

Countinue down the dark corridor.  - 7

 

7

The dark corridor your walking down is far in distance. It is a straight path forward away from the lake. The sound of your footsteps echo. 

 

You see a wall up ahead. Lighting the torch up against the wall, another temple drawing is apparent. Stick figures with squares. A foreign langauge reads across. It's neither Egyptain or any familar langauge of South America. You feel the wall. Dust covers your hand. 

 

There is another intersection.

Should you go left? - 8

Or should you go right? - 9

 

8

As you walk towards the left, pebbles fall from above. You look up. A loud shifting noise can be heard. Something large is in this temple. You sense some kind of danger up ahead. You walk faster than before. 

 

A sharp turn countinues to the left. You light the torch along the wall. More esoteric langauge and sqaures appear. Nothing makes sense.

 

As you reach the end, the corridor turns to the right. How long will this endless hall go on for? 

 

At a distance, you can see outside light. You rush towards it. 

 

Vines and leafs block the way. You tangle your way through the debris. 

 

Try and cut some of the vines? - 10

Use the torch to set the vines on fire? - 12

Or push your way through? - 11

 

9

As you walk towards the right, pebbles fall from above. You look up. A loud shifting noise can be heard. Something large is in this temple. You sense some kind of danger up ahead. You walk faster than before. 

 

A sharp turn countinues to the right. Ahead, you can see some kind of statue. You walk towards it.

 

It looks like some kind of golem creature. In the center, is a shining diamond. Behind the golem, is another path. You have curosity for this thing. 

Should you examine the diamond? - 29

Or ignore and continue?  - 30

 

10

Reaching out for your hatchet, you cut through the vines. You want to use your torch, but you decide to wave it violently, and put out fire against the wall. There is sufficent light ahead to see where your going. 

 

The vines are thick. "Whish" movements with your hands cuts them. A little force is needed. 

 

Pulling the dead plants aside, you can see some kind of monument ahead. It is outside. The sun's light is shining. 

Countinue towards the monument. - 13

 

11

You use your might and force to grapple the vines and push them aside. Some have thorns, others just fragile. The vines hurt your hands. LOSE 3 LIFE. 

 

Your hard work pays off. Scarped and dirty, you finally reach outside. The sun is bright. From the distance, some kind of outside monument stands alone.

Head towards the monument. - 13

 

12

Waving the torch, you use the fire against the vines. They start to burn. You use much fire as you could. The fire gets incresingly bigger. You push your way through, but get burnt from the fire. You have made the situation a little more difficult. LOSE 3 LIFE. 

 

You use some of your canteen water to put the fire out. The fire is not effective enough to start blazing. A right amount did the job to kill the useless plant life.

 

Ahead, you can see some kind of large, outside monument.

Push towards the monument. - 13

 

13

You are outside. Abandon buildings hover around you. In front of you is a large, diety figure, sitting alone. It looks like Buddah, but nothing like Vishun. Niether Christian or Islamic. The figure is praying above. Wings attached to it's back. Eyes on it's stomach. Could it be an ancient God admired by the old temple people? 

 

Looking around, behind the diety, you see some stone hedges. A howler monkey can be heard. Life exist over hear. There is another building in front of you. And to the right, some kind of house.

Head towards the stone hedges? - 14

Go to the building behind the stone diety? - 15

Or head over towards the house? - 16

 

14

You walk towards the stone hedges. Chirping of cicadas can be heard. 

 

The hedges circle around you. Four big hedges with strange language written on each on. A stone path countinues towards inside of the temple again. The aura around you is suspcious. 

Should you examine the first hedge? - 17

The second hedge? - 18

The third hedge? - 19

The fourth hedge? - 20

Follow the path, and head inside the temple again? - 21

Or go back to the stone diety? - 13

 

15

You head for the building behind the stone deity. The buildng is a large. It an eroding, phallic building reaching for the sky. There is a door in front of the building. Maybe there is something living hear. 

 

You walk towards the door. 

Knock on the door? - 28

Or go around the building towards the stone hedges? - 14

 

16

You head towards the house. 

 

The house is the shape a moneky's head. The opening is the mouth. Light is inside the house. You decide to walk in.

 

Walking in the room, exoitc pots are on display both to the left and right. You look at the pots. One pot has curvey lines, another zig-zags. The other two pot has spots on it, and one with stripes going up. 

 

Crumbles of stone fall from the ceiling. Something is moving. 

 

Then, the door outside shuts down from above! You are in a trap!

 

You are now stuck inside the monkey house. You go up to the door and try to push it. The barrier is too heavy. 

 

However, there is a new path in front of you. It looks like your traped inside.

Head towards new path.  - 22

 

17

You examine the first hedge stone.

 

Written on it shows a sheep-like creature. It is red. Three lines are etched under. 

You step back. - 14

 

18

You examine the second hedge stone.

 

Written on it shows a dog-like creature. It is blue. One line is etched under. 

You step back. - 14

 

19

You examine the third hedge stone.

 

Written on it shows a dragon-like creature. It is green. Four lines are etched under. 

You step back. - 14

 

20

You examine the forth hedge stone.

 

Written on it shows a ape-like creature. It is yellow. Three lines are etched under. 

You step back. - 14

 

21

You pass the stone hedges and head for the path that leads inside the temple. You can see light at the end. There is no need to use the torch (you may put it out if you have one lit). 

 

As you walk down, the outside ambience dies out. Your are inside the silent temple again. 

 

You reach a large room with glaring sunlight from an open patch from the cieling. Th sun provides light in the dark temple. 

 

In the center of the room, you see four pillars. You walk up against a pillar and feel one. The pillar goes down. Surprised, you touch it again. The pillar goes up. 

 

There is another path to the right. 

You countinue along. - 23

 

22

You leave the pot room. The long corridor streches to a new room. You are anxious. Hopefully, the falling barrier was just a concidence. Right? You see light coming from the end. 

Keep following the path. - 30

 

23

The path in front of you is pitch black. You have second thoughts to touch the pillars. Should you mess around with any of the pillars before you go? 

 

You may write a note. Describe witch of the four pillars you want to press. Either 1, 2, 3, 4, 1 and 2, 3 and 4, All, or any combnation, etc. Keep this note for later.  

 

 

 

You light your torch, and head down the dark path. - 24

 

24

The path is dark and silent. You hear a flutter noise. Possibly bats are somewhere. You light your torch above. Nothing. You walk further down constantly inspecting with the torch. 

 

There is an intersection. 

 

Go left? - 25

Or go right? - 26

 

25

You head left. 

 

In front of you, the flame of your torch light up a dead end. Above, a group of bats are sleeping. 

 

One is awake! He sees you and flys down. Fight the bat!

 

BAT

 

ATTACK: 2

BLOCK: 1

LIFE: 14

 

If victory, - 27

 

26

You head down the dark corridor. Hopefully, you will not wake any bats. 

 

You come across a door. This door has a face on it. Two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and a red diamond in the center of it's head. You push to door open. 

 

 

 

27

You killed the bat. Scared, you quickly head the other way.

Head towards the right. - 26

 

28

You knock on the door. It is quiet. No one answers. You decide to open the door. 

 

Inside, there is a staircase the leads upstairs, and a viasable kitchen. Things look old and abandon. 

Walk upstairs? - 34

Or head for the kitchen? - 35

 

29

You decide to take the diamond and look at it. It is shiny, probaly a precious medal. You carest admire the diamond. 

 

All of a sudden, the golem shifts it's head! It is staring at you. I's left arm slowly is moving towards you. You back off. The golem's legs break out of it's sleep. The golem shakes itself. It is walking towards you! It's arms want the diamond back. You are scared. 

Give the golem the diamond? - 31

Or fight the golem? - 32

 

30

You are in a giant red room. It is big like an audotorium. The thought of such of room is puzzling. Who uses this room? The floor and ceiling are made of ruby. 

 

Thing in the center.

 

Check thing?

 

There is two paths. Which way?

 

31

You quickly pass the diamond into the golem's hand. It grabs it tightly. However, the golem lifts its arms up, and shakes them violently. He is still reaching for you!

Nervous, there is one thing to do. - 32

 

32

You draw out your machete. You start a fight!

 

GOLEM

 

ATTACK: 3

BLOCK: 0

LIFE: 17

 

 

If victory,  - 33

 

33

The golem falls to the ground. It's head tilts to the side. No life is through his body anymore. You swat the body a couple of times to make sure it is dead. You grab the diamond out of his head. Looking at it, you decide to keep the diamond in your bag. It's worth the fight. Shook up, you wipe of your body. You run out of the room into the next. 

Head for the path. - 30

 

34

You walk up the long, curving stairs. 

 

You have reached a room with a carpet and latern. Someone must be living hear. Overhead, you can see an open door. It look's like someone is in there. 

 

Roll a die.

3-6, Tiptoe near the door and spy. - 36

1-2, Make noise as your walking. - 37

 

35

You are inside the kitchen. Everything is made of stone. The brown table in front you has scattered papers. The langauge is unknow. The charachters look like a bunch of scribbles. 

 

There is a metal sheild in front of you. It is somewhat big. Looking at it, from the botton and top, it looks like it can be used for something. It might be worth money. You may take the sheild. If you do, add +2 block to your skill. 

 

Nothing much is in the kitchen. Ahead from the window, you can see the stone hedges. At the moment, they look more intresting than this abandon building. 

Head outside towards the stone hedges. - 14

 

36

You fall onto the floor with a loud bum p. “Who was that?”, a voice from the other room cries?

 

Som eone is in that room . You hear footsteps com ing your way.

Should you stay where you are? - 38

Or charge at the person? - 39

 

37

You quietly walk over to the other room . You see a green-skinned wizard brewing a position in

his caldron. Should you m ake noise? Or attack?

 

38

The person walks towards you. It is a green reptile wearing a wizard’s coat. “Who are you?”

He says. You explain your story to him . The creature turns out to be friendly. “I am Gardu,

keeper of this building. I have no idea what is inside Hellfire Tem ple. I am only doing

research for m y own experim ents. If you plan on going on through the tem ple. Please, take

this arm or with you. It does not fit m e. Hopefully you can put good use to it” You obtain the

arm or. Add +1 to all of your stats. You wish Gardu farewell, you exist his tower and head

towards the stone runes.

stone hedg - 14

 

39

You charge directly at the voice. You push him onto the ground. “Alakazam !” The creature

scream s! You get burnt by a fire spell. Lose 4 life points. The green looking crature goes

back into his lab, steals som e special am or thing, and cast onto his spell. He dissapears

without a trace. Getting up, you walk into his labatory. Obviously, this is som e kind of

wizard’s keep. Nothing special is useful. You alm ost had him too. Outside the window, you see

the stone hedges. You take out your m achete and prepare for anything worse to com e. You walk

down the stairs safely and get otuside the building. Head towards the stone headges.

stone hedge - 14

 

——