Diary_3004_3_Selfporträit with body-warm thoughts

Mjs oduesP. Thinking out loud.

Pause, think about it, what it is: that I can do nothing and have no talent for anything and rattled through all the tests, and because I'm trying, to work somehow through myself: i am very vulgar, everything, what i do is vulgar and primitive. But the primitives consider me pseudo and therefore artificial. And now I even run out of milk on the new stove, because I pondered my misfortunes and inability to arrive in the world, a few seconds too long. How would that have gone without the ME-Cage with MJS.

It is so: for educated people I am stupid and vulgar, for simple and uneducated people I am pseudo and wanted. In the end it doesn't matter, since I live UnderGround in all aspects.

But I'm currently lazy to self-accuse. Afterwards I'll make something small out of it, by pushing it a little bit away.

I'm still learning German.

I have to tell myself, that for all laziness there is a difference, whether I blurt out my always body-warm thoughts or manipulate them, by tufting them a little linguistically, so that I feel, MJS may not be completely vulgar and primitive as it really is.

I only have this now, discovered so late in my life, I mean: this strange amalgamation of primitiveness and ingenious instinct in me. You really can't do anything with it, nothing, in the world. Because I am an animal 100% but not, although I was at home in nature, never in culture, clearly, and therefore a human being too, diametrically opposed to it 100% not am, I don't feel in all the corners of my body ” human”, I believe, i am so much as “musically” and “intuitive” and born brainless, that now from my attempt, to educate myself a little, a bizarre and strange fusion has arisen from properties, who don't go together. In my heart I am still this bundle of intuition and innocence, in the cells I am all the innocence and nature, but because they said father:

, finally use your brain to think! He always said that; i did it. And the misfortune or the oddity took its course. I can never be one of the smart ones, But the stupid can't do anything with me either. To be really beautiful, Then a few architectural things were missing, that make up the feminine, about me, and both my attempt: To bind an intellectual partner to me as a fool of nature failed and vice versa; As a bluff sack and complex primitive thinker with ramified intuition and emotional intelligence (haha) to please a simple partner, went in my pants. Ordinary people cannot access me, Women never liked me, and in general I am a construct, and so not 100% Tier, because an animal is not a construct, but 100% I'm not humane either, otherwise I wouldn't be so UNDERGRound, but a brand, a goods seller, a prostitute working out there with u in the world on their human terms etc, this body-warm anticipation is something for WP, I think right now, it says something about me, I make no attempt at abstraction or manipulation, what literature would mean in my imagination. Why always this effort, to rescue a content from the inner self into this strange space, where no less than myself have to say: now it's art, no more navel gazing! Now it's pseudo, no more innocence! Now it is no longer primitive, but cultural-like. But it is pseudo anyway! And it doesn't give a shit, because, what I do: it never goes from me, it always stays with me, in me, though, because I don't exist for the world. And I have no illusions, that that will change, because the older you get, curious people seem all the more curvy. The freak turns off the light and goes to sleep. Until it again has such a nonsensical hint of self-infliction. Life could be so comfortable, so pleasant….