That’s the typical Sartre misunderstanding: you have a great in your own eyes conversation with a friend on phone, and when you hang up you suddenly get impudent tone, like ’I was saying this’ I here underlined as hell.. then it is like the American whom followed you on the way, and was funny and like was agreeing with everything.. but suddenly you get confused: you say good bye, and suddenly he displays like he knew ’what was the deal’ ’all the time’ like he was just ’testing testing testing ’ you, like those so called ’Sufis’ sitting there in the statue form of the classical ’The thinker’ and not getting their asses out of the waggon,.,,
And that last tone, of self ascertain is so obnoxious I think.. Jack mused to himself after the talk with Yunas, that as usual ended in him saying good bye in a hurriedly and humble manner.. Because Essence came before Existence.. Contrary to what Sartre claimed.. But life in itself taught us, that Existence came Before essence..
‘But I am happy’ Jack thought like Jack Kerouac, ‘to live love and laugh.. thus neither comes before the other.. but the worldly life as experience is Existence before Essence.. but in reality Essence is before Existence.. get it??’ he said to his imaginary talking partner, one of them which he always had at hand, and now more tangible than ever, actually existing somewhere hiding.. like his women whom travelled 1000ands of kilometres to Tokyo Japan JUST TO HIDE FROM HIM.. at distance they dared to exist and somehow express their extreme deep love and admiration for ‘the master’ but when getting close, they ‘hid’.. and was so horny their vaginas pulsated and was like turned on hot all the time, together with their minds whom was like transfixed in a trance..
‘Only the humble will remember’ Allah said in the Quran.. Well.. Those Americans never remember anything essential,, just exitence stuff like what they could use against you in collusion.. But Allah was the best of planners:
Säkerligen planlägger dom en komplott.
Men jag har EN PLAN (my italics) jag planlägger ock..
As Allah says in Sura At-Tariq in the end verses..
Tokyo Talk in bed
About that obnoxious behaviour Prophet Muhammad spoke about, saying: the one whom hears a good speech, and then gets fixed on some detail that was to its disliking, is like a man being told by the shepherd: go into the meadow and take a sheep!, Mr! It will be tasty! And if not you eat it, at least you can have it as company.. We don’t eat our friends you know.. So if all the animals on earth became our friends, we would have to suffice with vegetative food only.. But I think there will always be a shark, probably a white shark in the sea, that will always be our enemy, or a crazy crocodile cruising around the rivers of Africa ready to strike even a lion wanting to swim across.. And so we kill these and eat them.. Or a black mamba, coming on aggressively and one single strike that hits you, and you will be dead within 10 seconds.. These are dangerous things.. But now go in and take a sheep to yourself dear friend, and don’t hesitate..
The watch dog is running around barking and directing the sheep.. But that strange fellow goes into the meadow and approaches the shepherd dog instead.. Seeing it we wonder about the strange and appearing more strange intention.. What is that odd fellow really interested in??, like evil people are; you have something they want, like the sheep, and suddenly YOU are the real target of the operation.. Like Odd Wingdahl and his stupid sons; when they desire a girl, they get to get to become ‘best friends’ with her guy.. The guy, feeling flattered: I am suddenly friend with the great infamous very famous writer family of Odd Wingdahl and Ebba Fitt Pattström.. THEY ARE GREAT PEOPLE HAVE TO BE GREAT PEOPLE’ the guy tells himself in his trance.. It is like he is getting high but at the same time a heavy object somewhere deep inside himself is dragging him down.. He feels split shame, and strange; ‘falsk blygsamhet är det värsta jag vet’ as Ernest Hemingway wrote in his suicidal state, in his great period, before the Noble Creep Prize made him experience exactly that same split in his character.. And finally ‘they’ claimed he ‘shot himself’.. Seems rather they had incentive for murder, since he used his Noble Creep Prize to get Ezra Pound free from the mental hospital where he was tortured for the rest of his life, lest Ernest Hemingway had mentioned his imprisonment and persecution by the jews in his Noble Creep Prize speech which went viral all across the earth..
The Americans we had met had all had this fault which Hemingway and Pound didn’t seem to be affected by, but I guess it was a general flaw in the American character, maybe going back to Columbus the jew devil, deciding to ‘wipe out’ the Indians which were living in American continent to have it to themselves, which they succeeded with.. ‘there will be God’s coming across the sea, and they will be white in their faces’, ‘like ghosts’ someone might have added, ‘cause that is what you will become when you have this silly religion telling such stories just to make your medicine men interesting..’ So Americans were mostly hypocritically pretending respect for you, until they got some advantage, then they were not late to get the gang together and bang you to death..
Well, anyway.. Odd Wingdahl D’evil of his sons and him were also like that; they slipt down in the armchair beside you like a Noble Creep Prize coming down supposed to make you happy, with that strange casual limp movement.. That should already tell you something.. ‘Why me??’, well the answer was some kind of homosexual perversion inside their sick brains, which made them want to crush you with the girl they now already were fucking in one of their secret apartments they had from Svenska Bajsakademien, with the blinds down and enjoying every second of your property in orgy motion.. And as they slumped down in the armchair beside you, they turned on The Noble Creep Prize beam, so that you ‘would become happy’.. ‘Just let me do a little.. maybe I get tired of her eventually..’ And you like, feeling that split, but not showing.. If you show it, they will at once turn their back on you and designate you ‘a loser’, and then the girl will slowly sail away from you like a boat Columbus sailed on leaving Spain over a sea not travelled yet before all the way to America over there somewhere beyond the horizon, and you will most probably never see her again.. But she will be stuck in your memory, and the passion that is now in you, and which you can’t live or be any more, will become a weight around your body, which will drag you slowly but surely, like a snake gulping down its victim swallowed alive.. And the comodo varan will bite you and follow you just waiting for you to get lethargic enough to fall down and not ‘make it ‘ any more or further.. He liked you to be dead enough for being stiff, so he can gulp you down, but still alive, so he can see your terrified eyes and hear your terrifying roar, as he takes a grip with his mouth, just a little like this so he can hear your scream and feel your fear, what you will know has to come, that black hole in his stomach, before he more violently throws you back a little tilted to the side, and then gulps you fast and straight down his disgusting big throat, to that stomach that awaits, the living food, writing in pain, as his gases and chemical compound hits you in the face, and you perish slowly inside his body..
Well, I was thinking about all of these things as one of those stupid sons suddenly slumped down in a chair beside me, beginning ‘a nice conversation’ .. you see.. you get it.. it was very nice.. so he thought.. so when he finally left, he was certain the awaiting victim hadn’t noticed anything..
Well, you will see.. I mused.. The lion is strong, and trusts his strength.. He knows God is the Greatest, and thus wants to make judgements all the time based upon The Will of God, and in this way, the lion realizes, he will become King of the jungle.. He might be slow in his judgement, and the other animals standing there, showing their teeth more and more in grins of contempt; this big beast just standing there !! Ha ha!! Looking like he will be Porn Gorn to Death Agree gorged to death.. The flock of cattle is running all around him.. When suddenly the lion wakes up and gives them a gaze which makes them beginning to back down.. And a little rat is the last to get out of the way, as the shadow of the lion in the savanna step sun grows like an insight coming upon the starers; ‘money honey dildo saldo!!’.. ‘yhea nice poem..’ ‘just as nice as Odd Wingdahl D’evil’
Well, suddenly the big male lion takes a leap, you see, before you do the leap, you have to scare ‘the starers’ as to be undisturbed by their fixation.. everything depends upon the mind, my mind, God’s mind.. So when you have made ‘the starers’ back down like that rat which was now seen like a weasel hurrying down its hole to be devoured by some snake surprising it in one of the passages, then you have freedom of movement once again.. Like, if someone stares at you, and you say something, even if it is a nice saying, you don’t need to be confrontational, especially if it is staring based upon fascination for your person, your beautiful golden mane, based on love, and also even if it is a latah imitating all your movements; well the latah then wants to get free from its bondship; having imitated women all its life, the latah finally becomes a mirror to anyone in the environment with authority.. ‘well better it is possessed by me than D’evil’ you think, and let it keep on staring and imitating your every movement..
So suddenly the lion took an totally unexpected leap, and took prey from the flock of cattle that was having a stampede ‘party’ all around it.. The taste of blood in the mouth and flesh for the family..
So that man, whom instead goes into the meadow to take the shepherd dog, is an odd fellow you think.. It seems like he WANTS ME.. but FOR WHAT PURPOSE.. Well, you will find out, I know.. I thought as I saw Marcel Wingdahl’s back walk away in the passage of the school corridor.. The pain of knowing that you are not worth anything in comparison with the Mammon worship of Whoredom which the woman of yours will be ‘so happy’ to enter into, as soon as those ‘attractive genes and good looking bodies’ calls for her cunt to come and make it deep hard and wet.. Like pain writhing inside, and you thinking: ‘why did I do it.. why couldn’t I simply have not had any girl friend just like Allah instructs in the Quran.. Why was I so stupid as to take a girl without marriage.. And why do I not fight to establish Islam in my country, so I can be protected against such satanical attacks like these..’
Well.. It happened.. I was lost suddenly.. I knew my Free-day woman had done the whore act suddenly, and that our future, her beautiful super model body, and so pleasant cunt was not tasting for me anymore, but for D’evil and his party.. Fights every evening, where I noticed that she was always leaning towards sailing away in the final act of leaving, like always wanting to end with a pretext to break more and more, and split our relationship.. She was pulling, being pulled from me, into that dream of ‘big beautiful apartments.. status.. and sexy genes for me to make it with.’ And haunting me was the memory of Marcel slumping down in the armchair beside me just so casually and relaxing that it was almost scary.. Like just ‘speaking a little casually’ with ‘his best friend’ .. And me left with a big black hole in my heart, like suddenly wanting to take a knife and stick it there, seeing my blood spurting all over the room and dying.. My last breath of thought supposed to be: ‘I wasn’t good enough for The Noble Creep Prize.. Me me me.. My my my..’ sobbing heavily ‘darling.. ‘ breaking down in tears on the floor.. And you wondering: was it homosexual perversion impulse??, to eat that guy which they had envy against?, and the woman thinking automatically, and without any proof: ‘that is real male hood.. my now D’evil Marcel devoured my ex JUST LIKE THAT..’ snapping her fingers triumphantly.. Admiring his gym body building chest, telling herself what a good ‘deal’ she made, killing her ex and selling his flesh to D’evil party..
And that laugh was stuck in my throat as I died on the floor that night in tears that was like floods and the room was filled to the brim with my tears and suddenly healed me.. I woke up lone but suddenly sane in the room towards the wolf hours 3 Am or something.. the darkness outside of Stockholm was haunting me, but somehow suddenly felt intense and safe, LIKE IT WAS ALL OVER.. I wondered about it.. It was like I had walked through a gate to another dimension, a more base dimension but at the same time ringing with realization.. And then it started again.. That devil laughing in my face.. They were of course at this moment in the night making it as hell in his bed in some beautiful apartment they had for cheap almost free rent from Svenska Bajsakemien.. And she was moaning so pleasantly, and I getting stiff, remembering her beautiful body that I penetrate.. But now it was him.. I had to had orgasm I felt suddenly.. But knew I was absolutely not allowed to touch my stiffening penis at this point.. It was like the pleasure subdued me suddenly more and more, like a poison going through my body, that wanted me only to give up.. let go of the revenge.. let go of the feeling .. that otherwise was righteous wrath of God, wanting to go RIGHT NOW, with a knife ready in my hand, to the place where the zinah with my wife, now robbed from me by D’evil party, and stick that idiotic disgusting devil that was laughing straight in his ‘best friends’ face, like SOO EVIL, stick him down and severe his stupid idiotic head from his disgusting creepy body.. that slumped down in a chair beside me so casually.. that is how it all began.. one day.. ‘not so long ago’ I thought, catching myself with beginning to go insane, like that detail was growing SO IMPORTANT in the circumstance, like that little detail ‘somehow was interesting’..
I mean.. I was about the be destroyed, and my thinking was supposed to circle around a little detail if Marcel began his coup against me and my family life ‘one month ago’ or ‘two months ago’.. I mean.. I was going crazy.. And the D’evil laughed in my face, I saw that as his body began vibrating in pre-orgasm movement with my wife whom was having such a good time with his dick between her beautiful sexy legs.. And I heard her scream of sex as she came, and he was keeping on, and laughing so hysterically really, behind the back of course, not showing her how he gloated in knowing I saw what was going on on distance.. And boasting: ‘I am fast right..’ ‘When I once begin, I make and cut your dick to salami slowly, to feed her mouth so she can be satisfied with the taste of your pain.. It was actually exactly 28 days ago.. I am FAST RIGHT??’ and Marcel Wingdahl was laughing so hysterically and with absolute pleasure of evil identification, he came in my wife in a scream of pleasure of them both.. And then everything was still.. But I was still lying on the floor screaming back and forth in pain, like not knowing what to do with my body.. And the dick mine pulsating still hard pulsating, just wanting to have that orgasm that now had been stolen from me so unrighteously..
In madness sort of, I rocked back and forth, trying to throw myself to the right side, and then the left side.. But the comodo varan knew that his poison would be effective.. He laughed so happily as he stood over me, ready to throw me a little back snapping a little at me as the hear my screams and try my flesh; if I was ready to be swallowed while still alive, that tasty meet, ‘I met your wife today.. she was happy’.. You beginning to look downcast.. ‘Are not you happy your wife was happy..’ you knowing he will tell her.. ‘I am anyway happy when she is happy.. ‘ patting you on the back and you looking like a school boy whom has just gotten slapped by the magistrate, and then patted a little on the shin, hiding his now red face and supposed to be ‘thankful’ for not being slapped so hard more.. So so so.. Buckle up now, and smooth out the wrinkles which I caused with my hitting.. We are having a whole beautifully functioning society out here.. Tomorrow when you go out, which will now be in about 5 hours, on your way to your little work you see, you will see smiling faces of women, and they will giggle, and you will look down cast and stupid.. It will ruin your reputation.. Instead I want to see you happy, I mean making a grin against the surrounding LIKE YOU WERE HAPPY.. then your reputation will just get a turn, since everybody will know you are crushed inside, and not happy at all.. but if you look down cast they will laugh at you together with Satan, together with me, AND THE WHOLE WORLD..’ this Marcel thought, based upon the REPUTATION of The Noble Creep Prize which his father always handed out, with so many other ‘prizes’..
Well the comodo varan stood there over me, and I knew I was going to be eaten alive, and that my scream was only going to make him high, his eyes going up in a ‘YEESS!’ like when he had orgasm in my beautiful super model woman which was now so happy to ‘get status apartment and a lot of money beautiful luxury and everything.. good genes and beautiful kids..’ Well it was just to scream and die.. A death digested in D’evil’s stomach I knew was awaiting me, and that I at this point could do nothing.. Last thing coming to my mind was supposed to be the memory of Marcel slumping down in a chair beside me so casually and relaxingly 28 days ago, already had begun with my wife at that time I was supposed to think, like that clue was a VERY INTERESTING THING to find out at this point, me lying there poisoned and stiff in body ready to be eaten alive, digested, a coagulated body dissolving into SOLVE so to speak.. ‘solve the clue issue’ the D’evil was laughing..
And the night of 3 AM Stockholm was out there.. A darkness in the air I saw from my window.. The fucking had stopped at least temporally.. And I could look out the window, feeling that mystical feeling of the darkness outside the door outside the window, and I was now supposed to yawn, and utter a ‘hah’ tilting my mouth upwards like ‘Satan somewhere below 40 degrees, feed me the poison of delusion which you call reality’.. But I did not do that.. Instead I took a sharp knife and went out to find that bastard.. I was not going to let myself be eaten.. I knew imprisonment and torture for life was awaiting me down that path.. But I did not care anymore.. Justice was going to be served.. I was going to force his disgusting door.. How I did not yet know.. But that I would succeed.. Well.. ‘we can always try’ as my wife told me when we began our fucking.. Determination predestines your existence.. And I had determination.. Like a terminator exterminator, I walked down the empty early morning streets.. No.. It was still in the middle of the night I ascertained to my satisfaction but still shocked; all that pain I had felt, and only 10 minutes had passed! It was like the CLOCK HAD STOPPED.. And a broken clock was also right 2 times a day.. Like 2 knots that was slowly coiling round my heart that I was now going to cut off.. Making salami to feed my future wife of that penis that had been making zinah with my wife.. I went out into the darkness when suddenly a police patrol car passed me.. It slowed down a little as it had passed me, like suddenly they knew what I was about doing.. It was indeed horrifying.. If they caught me at this point it would spoil my future.. Well I kept on walking in the dark.. ‘they of course wonder what me doing alone out on the empty night streets’ I was supposed to thinking.. But I knew they were out after me, to hinder my fete compli of killing that devil that was about to devour me alive, they were out to protect ‘Svenska Bajsakademien the most esteemed institution of Sweden’ and protect the whoredom of my wife they had put me in.. The were ‘Hor-isen’ as the criminal gangs of foreigners called them so rightly, ‘Poulé-ice-en’ in more latin interpretation, poulé meaning ‘young girl’ in latin, but also ‘prostitute’ in French.. telling us how young attractive women really felt I guess..a trick of words..
The gordian knots were supposed to be cut off, and I regain my gorgeousness.. The rest Time will tell.. Only tell..
The women had set up their own operation in 2014 already, ‘to see if HE MAKES IT THIS TIME’, called ‘Stavberget I Gamla Stan’ – ‘there’s a queue you see to be penetrated fucked and pregnated by the master’ women told other ‘less attractive-than.thou’ – well – it was true – you can’t argue with facts – I loved all women.. but time of course couldn’t suffice for everybody all the time.. well – proud and possessed by Satan as they were in Sweden – they threw me under the bus, in Sweden called the constructed glass mountain ‘glas berget’ finally – where I was supposed to only see reality through the plexi glass door at a torture department for the rest of ‘eternity’ : ‘no more fun honey.. girls wanna have fun and I AM fun right.. and by the way I NEED (knee in your crotch) MONEY honey.. none can be better than our own special D’evil Odd Wingdahl beby.. or rather IS PERMITTED.. so #MBallatonce, we throw on the trash heap beby.. together with your now broken face.. ‘ again Ulrika smiled into his face.. that triumphant smile – and pushed him over the ledge from the big height.. well,. – that was in 2016 – November 28th.. and so he was hurt – but still alive since he had been created out of light like an Angel.. and thus could fly..
They had pulled down his fly constantly.. and now they didn’t know he could fly.. High upon energy ‘energy is eternal delight’ he knew he could endure the torture of the forces of Mordor, the cold winter wind whining.. whining and whining their lies.. Lies they was to brainwash you that you could trust..