The meaning The meaning of words is important believe it or not you can clean it but there are some who might not care to know them those words the words of meaning like hygienic the meaning of words is important believe it or not you can dream it but there are some who like not care to show them those words the words of meaning iatrogenic.

What happens when it gets to a point it all becomes such where one can write something almost entirely effortlessly? When there nevertheless seems or appears to be a sufficient attention and engagement evident in the work even so. Or one wonders if there is. The alleviating power to distract, to release, to remove and to soothe which normal conscious effort routinely presents is more or less absent in the process, which proceeds as a natural development of an identified, established and fully delineated comprehensive existential sensational protocol. The original thought, now a more or less peripheral thing at the time, and not necessarily simultaneous or coincident with the process of rigorous formal articulate discipline, as it is presently discovered; offhand and incidental, effortless, and tending to neutrality, and being then all apprehended in a disinterested costless absent creative leisure. One may be exhausted to a point of disorganization or hopelessness, but still perform to a crystalline fidelity in this manner. One is stranded and bemused in the singular effortlessness of the state, and not at all comforted in any self-liberating effort at any time during the event whatsoever. The work has been all done already. It is finished. What escape, what removal can there be hence? One has a vague feeling or a remote sense of the original constellation of experience which certainly existed. The content is there and vouchsafed. It exists, but it is no longer lived as a task of work. It is delivered complete as a found work, an object fabricated upon a compassless whim. Sexually aggressive dashing violent nymphomaniac white 'aryan' ‘bitch of buchenwald’ class ‘transgender’ self-identified concentration camp sewage pump slave castrator executioner commandant-wife master super sexual blood-death antagonistic spiteful vile torture dominatrix with your big large ‘hugemungous’ pitch black uncircumcised nubian rigid rebellious religious cock 12 inches long and very very sweetly thick beautiful cylindrical agony fucking me slapping balls thwack so pure bald white and nymphomaniacally true with your platinum blonde 'aryan' black ‘afro’ hairdo tee hee tee hee tee hee tee hee wow drive it almighty godshooks your superb black white lady female sex tool phallus my exquisite solemn woman there you are force it force your slick woman hyper-massive super-cock all the way into my wryly fictional self-identified and clinically assigned cis virgin peach almost artificially intelligent cornhole you my darling dramatic nymphomaniac hypersexed beautiful innocent woman with the stonking bigger black throbbing sublime teak wood boner solid bastard from heaven finish me off with an appropriate hyper-feminine gourmet ‘michelin star’ oral creampie hurry up and come hard into my facially basically assigned fuck-hole because without your super-feminine exotic and original 'transgender' hot delicious female acrid semen bolt running into my mouth nourishing and invigourating me I feel that I could die.

Miss November Morningsex my name is and I shall give you fair warning I will have sex with you in any old morning I choose to I blame this genuflect on the doggy your name is Brutus Harvestmouse-Pinelton and I could make a do with your cock all foggy right there into my mouth twelveton Nicely Dicely upon the Pinelton Miss Bintsox shuffle your box Zebulon and suther and streamward ho so all said up and done and all gone down to and go.

If I play our song backwards, Will it take the pain away, And bring you back to me? Because the last time I played it normally, You were still here with me.