Inspired by Shel Silverstien’s “Hungry Mungry”

They’re coming. They’ll get me.
They’ll get me, and hit me, and make me bleed my young blood that looks just like theirs,
With skin that looks just like theirs, but something in me’s different.
As different as my mothers before me.

It doesn’t matter.
They’re coming.
Their dark boots clomp down the hall, begging to bash my ribs, or my face, or my shins, or--

--They’re here. They take their fists and their feet and their words, taking turns finding the soft flesh
Covered by my backpack and my shoes and my clothes and my bones.

They found me, and they’ll beat me, and they’ll **** me--
That’s what I think until--
--I change.

I grow. My shins and my fingers and my skull and my toes.
My body elongates, it stretches and lengthens.
I’m still bleeding and bleeding and still bruising and bleeding.
But the blows stop.

They back away, at least I think so, but my body pushes them farther and farther,
I’m pressed against the ceiling, pressed against the lockers, until I feel them give, and I’m free.
I break through the ceiling, I break past the rain, I--

--Stand up. My head skims the clouds, misting my face. I feel myself drift away from this place,
As my head reaches farther, my neck, my chest, my stomach, my legs.

Trees break beneath my feet.
They crack and splinter, just like the houses, just like the schools.

The ground gets farther and farther away, my feet so big they spread across the land and the seas.
I’m blowing up like a balloon, like Violet-*******-Beauregard, from that book I read in in the second grade.
I push back against mass under my feet,
Let them feel the fire, let them feel the heat.
Earth is flying too close to the sun, as I grow, and I grow, and I grow.

The stars drift around me, popping blistering holes in my skin as I grow and push against them too.
I stick my hand in Jupiter, in Neptune, in Saturn.
I crush Mars like a dirt clod inside my fist, and slap nebulas together with a flick of the wrist.

I am the sun, and I am the storm, and the wind and the waves,
From the place I was birthed--

--The place I was birthed? Where was I? Where’s that?

I look to my feet and see naught but a speck,
I do a summersault to examine it closer--

--Not an inch from the Sun, my home withers and dies.

But still I grow, and I grow, and I grow.

Earth is now too small to hold

Still I grow, and I grow, and I grow.

I see so many things from here, but I shan’t get closer, for fear they’ll disappear.
But that’s not enough, still I grow, and I grow, and I grow.

Pushing them away like so many I know.

I hope and I dream for this ride to stop, still I grow, and I grow and I grow.

I grow, and I grow, and I grow.

Early before the **** crows
I woke up to sing,"grow"
Grow grow grow
Grow Kirui grow
Grow and be a doctor grow
Grow grow grow.
And my mother could spent time
Gazing at me..
Could it be spirits ?
She could ask but never did she!
I was tuned and steared
I knew nothing but my song
Grow grow grow.
The world has constantly made me go back sing.
Grow grow grow.
I sing to restore hope
To enrich my faith ..
Grow grow grow!

You're as active as a thief's night eye;
You cannot talk yet, but you still try;
You are almost always hyperactive;
Yes most survive. But I think you live.

I wish you would not ever grow up;
That you'd be a baby, play nonstop.
I wish. I pray. I beg. I even dare hope,-
But then, you were born to grow up.

Seeing the silhouette of you as a man,-
Inspires the thought of 'Emmanuel Pan.'
Maybe then you'd not grow as you should;
Just so your world would always be good.

Please don't grow; keep your stature;
I still fancy your un-nurtured nature.
Do not grow big. Don't even grow tall,
So you don't stop looking up to your uncle.

I wish you would not ever grow up;
That you'd be a baby, play nonstop.
I wish. I pray. I beg. I even dare hope,-
But then, you were born to grow up.

I really don't want you to grow.
But you'll have to, I too know;
So when you do grow up, eventually,-
I pray you grow to be better than me.

Whatever happens, remember this;
Life's a puzzle; you're merely a big piece.
Grow bigger. Grow taller. Grow up kid,
But don't you dare try to grow stupid!

Be cool. Be funny. Be you tee full;
But you should not be too big a fool.
Laugh. Smile. Cry. Dance. Its important.
But don't do it just because you want.

Play. Have fun. Enjoy life's benefits.
But matches and girls are off limits.
Lose yourself if you really have to,
But never lose hope or lose you.

Get in trouble. Get out. Get in a fight.
Yes! You heard me right. A freaking fight!
I, too, fought for that in which I believed.
How else was our Independence to be achieved?

Lie, only next to your rightful spouse;
But only get a wife after you get a house.
Raise anybody who dares to mess with you,-
Only if you raise your kids to be better than you.

Grow up. Grow old. Grow wise. Grow a beard.
But never grow above the wisdom you heard;
Like money. Love family. Have an opinion,
But remember to always keep it as your own.

Change your clothes sometimes. Its OK if you do.
But never change into something less than you.
Live. Be. Do. Have. Its all good if the time's right.
Grow up someday, but chatter once more tonight.

Keep Smiling

to grow out my health
to grow out my self esteem
to grow out my sense of adventure
to grow out my happiness
to grow out my honesty
to grow out my bravery
to grow out my laughter
to grow out my openness
to grow out my vulnerability
to grow out my forgiveness
to grow out my potential
to grow out my inner mermaid
to grow out my trust
to grow out my creativity
to grow out my perseverance
to grow out my patience
to grow out my motivation
to grow out my willingness
to grow out my beliefs
to grow out my soul
to grow out my desire
to grow.

Just about the size of my thumb
Plant so delicate and dumb
little by little I see my henna plant grow

You don't have tongue to talk
You don't have legs to walk
little by little I see my henna plant grow

The sun makes you sweat
And rain makes you wet
little by little I see my henna plant grow

Up grows your shoot
Down grows your root
little by little I see my henna plant grow

One by one leaves sprout
Making you strong and stout
little by little I see my henna plant grow

In this season of spring
Sparrows around you dance and sing
little by little I see my henna plant grow

At times they pluck your leaves
those cute little thieves
little by little I see my henna plant grow

I give a miserly glance but I don't interfere
It is entirely nature's affair.
little by little I see my henna plant grow

Your tiny existence soothes my eyes
I can hear you when others fail hear your voice
little by little I see my henna plant grow

You are Sharing another plant's flowerpot
Don't worry a new *** soon we will allot
little by little I see my henna plant grow


There you will grow bigger and bigger
Your branches will become stiffer and stiffer
little by little I see my henna plant grow


Within you they will make beautiful nest
Sparrows with enthusiasm and zest
little by little I see my henna plant grow

And when you are big and strong
Maybe then I'll be inspired to write another song.
little by little I see my henna plant grow.
little by little I see my henna plant grow.

His father reminded him of the giddy times,
As if he forgot them.
He does this habitually,
Implying that a lot has changed.
Of course, because today isn't yesterday
And the present isn't the past.
He wishes it was like before.
He can't recognize his son
As if he's wearing a mask.
Grew through adolescence without him
As he put on his mask.
He can't recognize him,
But he'll continue to remind him
That they are

Growing distant,
Without being literally far away,
It seems like it though.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow.

The true colors faded,
After they were shown.
The underlying tone of it all,
Segregated by a labyrinth of walls.

While we were wearing masks
We couldn't recognize each other,
While we were wearing masks
We couldn't recognize each other anymore.

Growing distant,
Without being literally far away,
It seems like it though.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow.

He remembers the connection he had with her,
As if she forgot about it.
He speaks of how spending time with her elated him,
Implying that he misses her.
Of course today isn't yesterday
And the present isn't the past,
But he wishes it was like before,
So he asks if they could return to what they once were,
He asks if they could return to what they once were.

They're growing distant
Without being literally far away,
It seems like it though.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow.

Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow,
The miles grow and grow.
It seems like it though.
Growing distant,
And the miles grow and grow,
The miles grow and grow,
Growing distant.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

(Originally written 12/1/10,
Revised 9/23/14)

I need to grow up, I need to grow up, I need to grow up!
Everyone tells me so and I refuse to listen. I want to grow up,
I want to grow up, I want to grow up! They all do it so smoothly
but I don't know how. I have to grow up, I have to grow up,
I have to grow up! My life and I live in this parallelism, watching
each other run at a different pace. I have to need to want!
Crying old sorrows, watching antique chains, doesn't work anymore.
The have is to break free, the need to for my sanity, the want is to
finally be the grown up I desire.

It will break, hearts break, frankly all the time.
Its not because people care less or do it on purpose.
Isn’t it because in today’s life we know too much, want too much and leave so little room to discover something new about ourselves?
We live in a scripted world, reality TV being a perfect example.
Something as simple as a text gets edited until we press send.
Unless you are angry, ’cause that poison get unleashed without a second thought.

Why so afraid to make a fool of yourself?
Did you know that when you apologize to who it matters, you learn and grow?
Grow, you don’t change, you don’t break and even if you fall apart a little, its completely ok ’cause you grow.

Look at a tree, very few of the big beautiful ones grow straight up and then stop.
They start at the bottom, pretty small, then they get bigger and want deeper roots.
They grow an extra branch and grow a little more.
Someone comes along and picks all the leaves off one side, so it splits again and decides to grow more branches, so that it can grow more leaves to get bigger.
The tree didn’t get up and slap the idiot for picking all the leaves, taking away the part it needs most to stay alive.
No, it grew deeper roots and grew a little faster.
Every time it hits an obstacle it grows more branches.
Soon enough its this massive tree, yet it keeps growing.
Growing, not because it needs to over come a challenge.
No, more simple because it lives now looking up towards the sun and wants more.
At this point it might even have realized its purpose and decides to flower, so all the birds come back.
It strengthens the branch it grew during hard times, now because they are of use to someone else.
In the end when this tree can no longer grow, it dies.
Even though all the leaves die with it, the branch that it grew and strengthened still stands.
The birds still come back and even if they have no idea how great it once was they still use the branches.

So don’t crumble and give up when times are hard.
Take a deep breath, use what you have and grow.
Become bigger and stronger, don’t cut yourself down.
Just simply grow from there.
Look up and dig deep, just keep going.

i could tell you how certain stations on the London underground
smell, but i can't capture you this smell...
a bit like in that film Perfume: scents are lost over time,
with regards to places -
                            unlike the eternal pine forest...
or the zest of lemon...
                                         those are universal scents...
one could and humanity has: created a synthetic answer
and copied these scents... made synthetic tastes
a whole chemistry of a posteriori scents and tastes...
Kant and chemistry are a perfect combination...
given the classical schematic:

analytical                         analytical
a priori                             a posteriori
apples grow on               tomatoes:
trees and                          categorised as fruits          
carrots grow                    yet used as vegetables
in the earth                      the analysis being
since apples                     even though they grow
are a fruit                         on something: trees,
while carrots                    bushes, vines...
are a root vegetable,       analysis has found that
ergo?                                 they are better treated
all vegetables                   as vegetables rather than
grow in the earth            fruits, since one rarely cooks
while all fruits                 savoury meals with fruit
grow on trees                  yet the tomato is used
or shrubs                         plentifully in savoury cooking


synthetic                          synthetic
a priori                           a posteriori
■, ▲                                   in light of the given examples
(geometry)                        in the realm of the analytical
and the propositions       a priori: that fruits grow on
that come with                 trees or bushes
them:                                  there's the pineapple
e.g. c² = a² + b²                   anomaly:
or physics:                         pineapples grow on the ground
e = mc²                                (in the ground) like cabbage-heads
                                            grow in much the same fashion...

i always struggle with the a posteriori conceptualization...
in the original i wrote as can be seen above...
are tomatoes the byproduct of
analytical a posteriori knowledge?
i.e. they are fruits that are used as vegetables (used,
hell, even treated as such)... because you will not find
a tomato desert as such...
the classification of a tomato as a fruit:
given how it grows... would also invoke the cucumber
to be treated as a vegetable:
vegetables are not as juicy as fruits...
the flesh of the fruit is usually softer and certainly
more juicy... while the flesh of the vegetable
is more bulky and requires cooking and salt
to extract the juices oh a higher carbohydrate
concentrate of the fibrous nature...

pineapples... a fruit that grows like a vegetable
in the earth...
i like this "confusion" in my head...
i'm not going to clarify it...
            i leave this curiosity in my writing on purpose...
analytical a posteriori facts:
well... first having categorised the tomato as a fruit:
upon analysis... true: the tomato behaves like
a fruit... but upon analysis: after the fact:
it is better used as a vegetable...

         and the synthetic a posteriori truth about
the pineapple? then again: i know where i might be going wrong...
isn't synthetic a posteriori knowledge possible?
it's not as simple as the pineapple example
based on: fruits grow on trees while vegetables grow in
the earth... i can only find questions
on the possibility of synthetic a priori knowledge...
ergo? of course synthetic a posteriori knowledge
is possible...
    it's ingrained in chemistry...
what does synthetic a posteriori knowledge look like?

a chemist tastes a lemon... and he tries to replicate
the taste of lemon using chemicals...
he breaks down the chemistry of the lemon...
and? with due course... replicates the taste of lemon
without actually using a lemon!
he breaks the lemon to the basic components
of citric acids and whatever else is needed to replicate
the taste of lemon and grind it into a powder:
chemistry is synthetic a posteriori knowledge...
isn't it?

the examples i cited with the pineapples:
it doesn't matter that the pineapple behaves like
a vegetable when it grows...
apart from that sick idea of a Hawaiian pizza toppings...
pineapple? ham?! you what?!
that's not synthetic a posteriori knowledge:
that's just a ******* whim of bad-taste...
there's no actual synthesis of the pineapple growing
as a vegetable and the "ingenuity" of treating
it like a bad idea for a pizza topping...
the tomato: however... is a pristine example
of analytical a posteriori knowledge:
sure... it's categorised as a vegetable...
because of the way it grows... compared to actual vegetables:
but? you wouldn't allow the tomato
to be bitten into like an apple... you wouldn't bake
a tomato cake as you might bake a banana cake...
the analysis concludes: our knowledge of fruits is this...
and we have this vegetable: the tomato
that's a fruit... but it would be better suited
in being used like a vegetable...

synthetic a posteriori does exist... it just doesn't apply
to pineapples for the simply reason that they
grow like vegetables... they're still going to be fruits...
synthetic a posteriori knowledge is chemistry...
it has to exist because a pineapple is
not a synthetic a priori "idea" of TASTE let alone
virtue or however Kant framed it...

ugh... my first day back at Craven Cottage...
little ****** steward: i hate these hierarchies...
it's a petty army of high-viz. jackets...
   i wasn't the supervisor but i had some colts under
my "supervision"... i tried to smooth things over:
i did... in the end i wanted to see Fulham play
Liverpool... i spread the word around:
this is *******... they should have put us inside
the stadium...
   but... the weather was the loveliest and the Thames
was tide-out... two seagulls arguing...
in the shade: this part of London is truly mesmerising...
i love the smell of the Thames with the tide out...
in the shade under these mammoth-esque splendours
of foliage...
hell... i even managed to spot my first KONIK
(little horse)... that's slang for... those ******* that buy
tickets at the regular price... then hang around the stadium
and try to push the tickets at a hyper-inflated price...
the ****** was selling the tickets for £250 for two!
and this was after the first half finished!
i told one of the guys with a radio:
call this in...
                          i had to repeat myself about 3 times
before the management agreed to my concern...
they sent two spare police officers to the person in question...
he almost sold those ******* tickets...
one minute i see him pretend to tie his shoelaces
(he wasn't pretending) - his black cap
disappearing under the bushes... next minute:
wh'ah where?! ****** did a runner...
so he wasn't tying his shoelaces "on a whim":
he was about to do a runner...

                  that's ******* exploitation...
that's like: stealing... capitalism at its worst...
the ingenuity of crime: oh... but it's innocent crime...
it's i buy something for £30 but...
i'll sell it for you for £250...
                             now... it's not antiques! it's not a *******
van Gogh painting that has been lying around
for quite some time... gaining a repertoire and a reputation
as something good, worthwhile:
it's a ******* football match ticket!
hyper-inflation like under the Weimar Republic...
money good as "gold": "gold" as in winter fuel,
timber the new platinum!

after all: there was no real synthetic a priori knowledge:
chemistry is hardly a question of appearance,
water is clear, but so is hydrochloric acid...
what else is clear? sodium hydroxide...
                 chemistry was born from synthetic a posteriori
knowledge...
how many chemical experiments came as a surprise
a sort of anti-Eureka of synthetic a priori knowledge?
champagne springs to mind... lysergic acid comes
to mind: no one was actually trying to find these things...
e.g. they did not come about through analytical
a posteriori knowledge: they arose from
a dimension of the synthetic a posteriori knowledge:
by chance: by accident...

sure... i might be doing a ******-low-skill job right
now: and it is... i'll admit...
it's super **** sometimes:
most of the time my coworkers are either
over-bearing ego-maniacs fixated on hierarchy,
or they're lazy Somali youths...
or just plain-sighted Nimrods...
i sometimes leave my mind to wander...
that when i get the jerks in the feet like
i'm about to fall over... like for bearskin hatted
soldiers on parade...
but i leave my mind to wander:
it's not an insult if it's true...
                  no: when i was a roofer and fiddling
with inanimate things there was more focus
on the work to be done... dealing with people
is a crass differentiation from perfecting how an inanimate
ought to behave under your hands...
to turn a roll of felt into a water-insulated roof
with a roll of fleece and enough tar...
people are different: i'm sort of studying people...
gearing myself to hover in on children in schools...

if Leibniz preferred the profession of librarian
and a private intellectual life of par excellence...
i wouldn't think twice about becoming a primary school
teacher than being a secondary school
teacher of chemistry...
**** me: if drag queen hour is about to be imported
from America: i best (better) step in...
i just imagine: well... unlike a barren woman...
who has no children...
who goes into a profession akin to primary school
teaching... but then i'd arrive...
i know the obvious stereotype to battle:
PEDOHPILE! ha ha...
           Ava Lauren: just my type... plump...
full-bodied... probably the age of my mum by now...
that's my type...
i need something rounded of:
a 5.9 = a 6... just an example...
                
             but i let my mind wander... when roofing
you couldn't leave your mind to wonder...
i could... tell you of the specific scents in certain
underground stations... Baker Street? is that the one
with the Victorian arches, a station under the bridge?
i don't remember...
Putney Bridge is a beautiful station...
but today i took the route:
Romford via train... got off at Stratford... waited for a minute
for the central line...
(i love meditating on the topic of tubes maps...
there are only two important lines
in London... why? based on how many times
they intersect... the Central Line and the Piccadilly
Line... they only intersect at Holborn)...
travelled to Holborn... not sitting...
at each carriage there are these half-seats...
you're leaning back... standing-sitting...
i felt so relaxed... i gave way to the momentum
of the tube...
i was moving backwards and forwards...
head nodding... shoulders doing the mr. plastic-fantastic...
i almost tried to remember the remaining
tension in my body... the grip i had on a bottle
of water and a packet of tortilla wraps...
the rest of me was: freed...

when it comes to scents... that's one thing:
everyone knows it's a stupid idea to change tube
lines at Bank... why? well... Bank it connected
to Monument...
it's a city within a city: a London 2.0... oh oh:
yes it ******* is... never change at Bank...
anyway... as i was relaxing having closed my eyes...
i can tell you where the best sounds of
machinery exist in London?
between Liverpool St. - Bank - and Chancery Lane...
mind you... i cycle the route from time to time...
what's above? is not, what's above...
compared to cycling... this route is like:
watching the original Dune movie...
i'm strapped to a ******* earthworm...
or: being digested by one while listening to
the clag glug and clamour iron biting iron...
i sometimes do the "twirl" of the tube above
ground... just after Aldgate...
i head towards Brick Lane... toward Liverpool St.
prior to reaching Bank St.:

all the Piccadilly Stations between Holborn and
Earl's Court have this sickly sweet stench
about them... it's sickly sweet... it's: sickly sweet...

i remember back in St. Augustine's we had one
female primary school teacher...
some ****** proverb speaks the words:
woe unto you for having to care for the children
of others...
while i'm thinking: that would be a worthwhile challenge...
i don't want any of my own:
the fear of ******* them up more than
i was ****** up wears me down...
at least with the genes of strangers
i can send in an auxiliary covert party of my psyche...
who would i send in? the usual suspects...
Kant, Heidegger, Newton, Ezra Pound...
oh... the list is pretty long...

most probably Rumi hanging around with
Zhuangzi... Ovid and Horace...
ooh... terrible idea to start drinking whiskey
after binge-eating a watermelon...
the burps i'm getting back:
******* postcards from Uan Muhuggiag (Libya)...
i'm seeing camels double the number of their humps!
not good... absolutely no good

burp... ooh... this watermelon will not go down
so good... while i worry about *******
myself come tomorrow morning...
unlike the Red Hot Chilly Peppers singing
the fames of California:
what do i have? i have the countryside of Essex
and the incursions in the concrete staccato
of London... i can mediate this...

              burp: well... at least it's whiskey mingling
with the juices of a watermelon...
i much prefer that to the half-digested acidic
meat of any sort...
                 that's healthy burping and healthy farting
for your...
hmm... investing in children... that's an idea...
i once remarked to a boy in a supermarket:
you know... how a while i thought animals
were incapable of seeing 3D objects
in a 2D canvas: i.e. why wouldn't animals
watch television with men?
today i had a "Fred" pester me for a bite
of my tortilla roll...
i would have given it to him freely:
i wasn't that hungry...
   so i asked his owner: so... what's his diet like?
oh... Fred has had pretty stomach upsets...
he spent the past three days eating mulberries
from a tree...
ooh! i love mulberries: who couldn't be more upset?
the dog or the mulberries?
ugh: these kind of people:
that have their dogs on a ******* vegan diet...
hey! Fred! bite into this tortilla wrap!
i have learned that the food man eats
if also eaten by a dog tastes better:
after it was eaten by man!

o.k., fair enough Fred... you have an owner that
deserves having you: but no children...
i'd put you in the same category as a child...
children, dogs, cats...
things that might stir in man the unusual:
certainly not Darwinistic / genetic investment
that might reduce a man's hormonal balance...
mate... you look at me that dumb-***** eyed way
one more time... let me pat you on the head
like i have... you're coming with me to the land
of eternal tortillas wrapping around chicken
and bacon: there's no "yes" as there's no "no"...

but that's London for you...
            and that's also Essex for you...
i spent an entire day in London?
where did i find those cheap-*** beauties of womanhood?
i didn't find them in London:
i had to travel back to Romford to find...
i sat down to eat a snack bucket in a chicken shop:
three spicy wings, some chips...
mayonnaise and some chilly sauce...
a 7up... £3.50... i enjoyed the meal
and thought about: nothing...
nothing is usually hard to "think" about...
you get into geometry: to prolong your time at pretending
to look "cool"... when eating alone...

i hopped on the bus... watched two hunchbacks
of an elderly couple "manage" their way own:
what cruel fate... the extension of mortality
via science... may i never see myself
that old... reduced to being the child of Atlas...
no... i don't care for the sensibility of secularism
and science...
old age transcends both of these:
it's the reality of old age...
prolonged old age is best renowned
and celebrated by lizards: turtles most in fact...
mammals look weird...
mammals look weird when their life is prolonged:
unnaturally: via the basis of science!

start giving out re-prescriptions to people
with a a faith in science but no hope in hope...
start selling them hopes of eternity...
this materialistic "eternal life": is drawing us closer
to no closure...
there comes a life: there coms a death of said life...
it's not fair to pretend that the inevitiable
is "not" going to happen: it will...
the tyranny of old age...
                  by the standards of the Benelux:
i'm more than willing to bow out...

who knows! i am not willing to simply live
for the awkward presence of strangers
on a basis of anomalies and non-intrusions
of some freaked-up formalities...
to hell with that: i have no evolutionary-existential
plight of  "conscience" that might make me suppose:
on racial grounds: that the human "effort"
will disappear: outright: completely:
sure... chances are... humanity will be governed
by more people willing to ***** cities of death via
the pyramid... people engage in the magic carpet
flights of Islam and pseudo-Islam from regions
akin to Somalia and Bangladesh:
my problem? i can't live forever! can i?

et scriptum est...
i like being toyed around as being the idiot...
it helps me grow...
and it was so written...
                ergo? ut necesse sit!
(and so it must be)
  ha ha! ah ha ha h ha ha!
vulnus ferrum:
                  sanguis respiratio
scratch of iron:
breathing blood!
            
mortuus est mori: the dead must die!
vivos debet mori /
vivos non sunt exceptio!

i work among people that make my intellect:
CLOWN!
   i entertain them... i must...
but their intellect is about as much:
grappling as... i don't know what!
i'm out of metaphors and aphorisms...

                        intelligence is discouraged when it comes
to a working environment...
           i'm like Leibniz... i'm unlike Newton...
my ambitions a "cowering" in a personal enterprise...
i like the individualism of m own enterprise:
i don't hope to solve or save the problems of
a common man... nope!
                
last time i heard? the train has arrived:
i also heard: the train is leaving...
well... i'm i geared up:
what do i care for the famines in Ethiopia?!
i don't care for claiming responsibilities for
people who don't take responsibilities for
themselves!
starve?! **** it... why not?"
oh right... one of the Somali types?!
pretend it's work by hiding behind the bushes?!
ergo? behind the bushes i pretend to shower you
with free bread and pork? don't like pork?
eat dirt instead!

i'm done: free-loaders: i'm done with them...
i'm so ******* with these Somalis that you can't even begin to comprehend!