Měsíc: Únor 2021
Let’s taste it. Ochutnáme to.

Let's taste it. /For You / Lubomír Tomik the old seasons are disappearing rusty gears of time bends in the wind it wasn't yesterday not tomorrow the old seasons are disappearing I'll wrap you in a shroud from faded rose petals I sewed them together pieces of intestines a bone of ribs not tomorrow not yesterday one heartbeat the old seasons are disappearing. You.

A teď je ten pravý čas na …..Hotel for insects.

Kvůli použití zvukových efektů prosím doporučuji poslech ve sluchátkách. Due to the use of sound effects, I recommend listening in headphones. A zavřít oči, prosím, vážně…díky and close your eyes,seriously, thanks.
Hotel for insects.
Lubomír Tomik
I cut sawdust boards all over the ground,
making at the hotel for insects,
nailing nails avoided thumb injuries,
blood splashed only kimono
the back wall was covered with canvas
used reeds bamboo drilled wood pie
bag of pine cones all at the hotel for insects
I sipped from steaming tea with honey and plum brandy,
it's hardly spring I thought- What the hell am I attracting to a beetle?-
Colorado beetle of the setting sun? Meadow horse sadness ?
I just smiled.


Drobné náhody.
Miluji ty drobné náhody..kdy zapadnou události do sebe…dám si na své stránky odkaz na song Hurt….od NIN Hurt. – Midian Poet pak večer na otázku Floor Jansen ,,Jaký by měla nazpívat cover“ na její Youtube kanál jí píši : ,,Hurt from Trent Reznor, please,Floor.“ …jdu si TEĎ udělat kávu…puštěný ROCK MAX …jaký song tam asi hraje….,že by ,,Hurt“? Yes.
To ovšem není nic proti ,,Situaci kolem Seiferta“ Píši si z někým z místa ,kde je Seifert pohřben, náhodně to zjistím, smějeme se, že až někdy pojedu na kávu, zastavím se tam. O několik dní později jsem u přítele, knížka od Seiferta na stole. Včera večer jsou u nás na chvíli na návštěvě známí , manželé…znovu padne náhodně jméno Seifert, ne z mé strany. Už se jen usmívám….a v následující větě od přítele jsou slova…,,,,vykládání karet“ už jen ukáži prstem, protože POD stolem, zcela mimo výhled dotyčného leží náhodně kniha o vykládání Tarotu podle Crowleyho….nevyhledávám tyhle události, přicházejí sami,dějí se, jako když si před návštěvou studia vytáhnu poprvé ze 78 karet Crowleyho tarot – Malá arkána – Dvojka pohárů (probud.se) a Ty jsi se mnou…stále a jen pro Tebe :
Pro vládu naší země mám jen jediný vzkaz: They rejoice for a century.

They rejoice for a century. Lubomír Tomik they rejoice for centuries as if it was over and they did not have to fill baths full of water they rejoice for centuries as if it was over they rejoice for centuries and rot just as long and they then put hands in the carcass of themselves palms full of rotting flesh they will not stop feeding. they rejoice for centuries.

Znovu a znovu mi berou všechno. Všeho do času.
Poslední cesta mezi okresy ,než vláda zakáže cestování .
Vedla i k Tovačov (zámek) – Wikipedie (wikipedia.org)
Spanilá věž.
I stepped on the dried bird’s skeleton. Pro Tebe, má lásko.Ze srdce.

Kvůli použití zvukových efektů prosím doporučuji poslech ve sluchátkách. Due to the use of sound effects, I recommend listening in headphones. A zavřít oči, prosím, vážně…díky and close your eyes,seriously, thanks.

I stepped on the dried bird’s skeleton,
Lubomír Tomik,
and the tiny chest cracked,
I limped
someone put a bottle in my trail.
she pounded me with dolphin skin,
THE MAGIC beauty of His being,
someone asked:- A shot?-
answer: -Tomorrow, or in eleven days.-
It started to rain, the car chuckled uncertainly
water splashed out of the exhaust,
then he rode in the rain, in the distance over the mountains
it flashed,
he drove and thought of the man,
who burned his poems in the boiler room of the steamer Orizaba,
rolling black smoke
covered the sea
long
mourning
ribbon.

Queue in the supermarket. Fronta v supermarketu.

Queue in the supermarket. Lubomír Tomik the beauty stood there thinking about the people in line in front of her there stood a guy thinking about the people in line in front of him I was standing there I remembered a beauty and a guy telling me what they were doing in line at the supermarket I remembered it and thought about the people in line in front of me On the twentieth day of March, thirteen hundred and forty-five, it looked like a sale of plague bacteria. Good buy, man.


Zvuk zachycený při procházce městem.
Sound captured while walking through the city.

Sound captured while walking through the city. Lubomír Tomik Sound captured while walking through the city it was like an echo of a shot, during the uprising. The heart rose, tore through the chests of all involved, there was no one to hug anymore there was nowhere to write for mercy. Our hearts are mostly nice bitches, she thought, that beauty.

The saddest poem of all.

The saddest poem of all. Lubomir Tomik Cute druids fall from the trees, when swans take off above the river they flutter their wings. Butts sing in the quiet bays of adolescence, ejaculation on wooden piers and moaning in the tents, the humidity of the saturday nights, the taste of the mouth alternating in the evening, I stood with a bottle of wine in front of the stage, the band was terrible and someone grabbed my shoulder, I turned , She suddenly kissing me, in the hall I had in my hand Her tongue and breast in mouth, outside we leaned against a tree, she took off my pants and said after a week: - So, we will continue ? - I can't remember Her face.

Rozhodnutí vlády ČR o zákazu cestování mezi okresy,hnus…

… díky za nic, vzali jste mi to málo ,co mi životě zbylo… skutečně se mračím… zatímco Vy…

No… voda se vaří.
Fotografie jsou mé, z doby kdy se,, smělo „.
Where everything, was the other way around. Tam, kde vše bylo naopak.
I really recommend listening in headphones.

Where everything was the other way around. Lubomír Tomik In the embrace of Steel Dan, strangled with your underwear , perhaps red, before the eyes the specter of Mephistopheles , perhaps tousled by hell, Faust's spirit raises the veil of smoke Faust's house will serve my joke Faust's breath where sulfur tastes Faust's spirit The universe In the embrace of Steel Dan, strangled by a red bra, in fainting, the ghost of Mephistopheles before his eyes, the tousled hell hopping leaves hoof prints, somewhere in Dublin. Stephen, somewhere in Dublin.


We have to be STRONG
Realita.
Včera jsem napsal:
Nahrával jsem ve stejném Studio Shaark jako Root. Albert Hoffman řekl : ,,Realita je nepředstavitelná bez nějakého subjektu, který ji zažívá.“ Dobrá…jsem tedy já ten ,,subjekt “ ?
Nebo jsi to TY ? A já tvořím Tvou realitu ?
Děje se tohle všechno ?
Jsi skutečná ?
Jsi.
Dnes, teď, ráno.Právě se připravuji na další čtení, před tím si ale ještě vykládám Crowleyho Tarot, učím se vykládat několik měsíců, přesto, některé ze 78 karet jsem nikdy neotočil…míchám, myslím na Tebe, v rukou cítím, že jedna karta se otočila, míchám dál, rozdělím balíček karet na tři hromádky a uprostřed je karta, kterou jsem si nikdy nevytáhnul, otočená. Takhle.Tahle.

Realita ?
Odbíjel rukama čas. Time struck with his hands.

Time struck with his hands. Lubomír Tomik "He was looking right in front of him, he made a soft buzzing sound and time struck with his hands. " How I would like to take that bus and see you beating time with hands. Whipping by sea onions can begin!

You are my Personal Jesus
And I all alone
Flesh and bone
look on the telephone
He was born without bones. Narodil se bez kostí.
He was born without bones. Lubomír Tomik He was born without bones and his first feeling was the elasticity of the soul, the heart traveled up and down the body in a transparent liquid, resembling the reflection of silicones in the setting sun the interior of the body lined with desire the clumps of the brain touch the earth and the cold of the grave lulled him to sleep.

Nemohl jsem věřit svým očím…
…televize u Vás doma hrála tenhle song
For all poets…everywhere in the strange, vivid dream in this world now.
V dálce lampa na pobřeží. In the distance a lamp on the shore.

In the distance a lamp on the shore. / old navy / Lubomír Tomik / old navy/ in the distance a lamp on the shore yohoho on the distance the lamp is lit. yohoho through the fog through the heavy rain yohoho in the distance the lamp is lit. so rudder twist, old bro yohoho rudder twist, you're here for it! when you hear it crackling when you hear the curse all of us yohoho all of us yohoho not for a long time yohoho
Read and recorded in Studio Shaark For You.

Wandering the streets of Providence.
Bloumání v ulicích Providence.

Crystal Defanti


Wandering the streets of Providence. Lubomír Tomik From a soaked ditch flooded with blood and mustard Mrs. Defanti's body crawls on her back, It slid through the mud and men in uniform were leaking vitreous, The whites of whites whipped in a riot of vibrators. The first star in the sky in a moment I look into your eyes To those crematorium fires, The darkening blue of the sky pushes light beyond the horizon, Behind The Horizon Behind The Horizon Behind The Horizon compresses it until the moment of the coming Night, The red disk intersects with the silhouettes the last few remaining TV antennas, All palms pierced by Mrs. Defanti's heels You throw them behind your head and our hands come together bone intertwines with bone. United blood vessels fused with hearts, Night is coming in Arco cafe, Guests are poured cold coffee with a wink, Waving the wings of ravens with that eternal croaking : NEVERMORE Greasy black feathers soaked in rain with razor blades in which you don't dance much Mrs. Defantio is coming with an umbrella made of soapy male faces, the twists of the beard with foam fall on the faded lino with the sound of trampled candies at the foot of the gallows tree where the noose is long empty. Wandering the streets of Providence. All that someone else's skin they suddenly ride down. The period of FLESH is coming.





Mezitím ve stejném Studiu Shaark .



Nahrával jsem ve stejném Studio Shaark jako Root. Albert Hoffman řekl : ,,Realita je nepředstavitelná bez nějakého subjektu, který ji zažívá.“ Dobrá…jsem tedy já ten ,,subjekt “ ?
Nebo jsi to TY ? A já tvořím Tvou realitu ?
Děje se tohle všechno ?
Jsi skutečná ?
Jsi.
Dlouhé léto před koncem světa.
Long summer before the end of the world.

Long summer before the end of the world. Lubomír Tomik When I ran my hands over the greasy clay of You, wrapped in a drying peel of mud, burned from within with your own breath, long summer before the end of the world we just hugged, there was no time for anything more. There was no time was not time

Na značkách.

Mokrý písek. Wet sand.

Wet sand. Lubomír Tomik Put a noose of your hand with a dagger in your fist in the hole in the wet sand, And add something else there, something of Your soul. The water rises higher, just leave everything to yourself, locks his stash. Girl, Woman, Old woman The curtain is now torn down. O, the Great Unknown. You'd be safe if I wasn't here.



Zítra zbývá…

Lets Pretend
Two morning poems for You.

Long Margaret. Lubomír Tomik - according to folklore about the heart eater / biting is ONLY sound /- Oh, Long Margaret, I'm here Oh, here I am I have not yet entered this world and you want me now Oh, Long Margaret Oh, here I am I still can't see my mother's face and rot in your stomach all the time O Long Margaret Oh, here I am another heart was missing and the work is done!

Eat the saliva of the witch . Eat at the saliva of the witch and the heart will not grow again the grimacing beast withdraws the needle is waving its wand ,,vjechtica" opens the chest it will pull out your heart and crush it in its teeth dust from it then falls on her neck, on her shoulders on her arms, on her beautiful breasts in her lipstick smile the teeth will turn into knives beforehand eat the saliva of the witch and heart again GROW.
Dainty. Pamlsek.

Dainty. Lubomir Tomik Eyes glowed with orgasm, that's ragnarok thought to me, it's a rognarok, it's a regnorak, it's a ragnarok , and Fenrir is already wagging his tail. He would like a dainty.

Když se dostaneš na konec scény. When you get to the end of the scene.

When you get to the end of the scene. Lubomír Tomik when you get to the end of the scene the celluloid melts pours over the edge of the table flows down on you I draw shapes with my eyes on him pupil prints in the area just below the ribs in which electric shocks burst dry the other woman suddenly looks me in the eye in my hand Your breast in a cloud of fragrant smoke WE are at the end of the scene.

Dnes večer…
Summer smile.

Postavit na kávu a čekat. Stand for coffee and wait.

Stand for coffee and wait. Lubomír Tomik murderous creaking of worms in furniture, clinking triangles into men in fractions, choirs down the streets, a river of souls flowing around a quiet door sometimes it freezes sometimes it is dry and only sometimes, rare, comes out of the trough and sweeps everything in front of . Stand for coffee and wait.

Our old enemy. Náš starý nepřítel.
,,Our old enemy, the SATAN !!!“ -said priest at Sunday Mass.
I noticed and cut my ears.
I thought:
-Oh dear,, we’re in the middle of a soul conflict!!!

I když s Tebou jsem a nejsem…
…i když něco mezi námi je a není…dnes jsi se mnou od brzkého rána… pořád.
One of the first sunny days…in my garden…

On the gun carriage of phantoms E.P. Na lafetě přízraků E.P.



On the gun carriage E.P. /for You/ Lubomír Tomik On a carriage of ghosts of running water glued to the red tail lights of death, E.P. leaves and I wander through Venice, the gondolas collide, they shatter easily like couples in love in the early evening, just like that, it would be said. just like that /and E.P. is ...of course.... ...Ezra. /
Pro Tebe : I can’t survive NOW. Nedokáži přežít TEĎ.
Nedokáži přežít TEĎ. Lubomír Tomik Nedokáži přežít TEĎ bez Tebe, čas je gumička ve Tvých vlasech , natahuje se a smršťuje, čas je Tvůj úsměv, natahuje se a smršťuje, čas je smrt vedle v nemocničním pokoji při docela dobrém obědě, najednou zmatek a shon, několik týdnů jsem se nehnul z pokoje, max na na invalidním vozíku , záchod a potají do sprchy, po nehodě jsem znal jen jeden ostrov, na něm Ty a pokoj s vyhlídkou na život, po jídle se natáhnout a otočit na druhý bok, zavřít oči a díval se do Tvých, vše ostatní …nereálné, nedůležité….nějaká smrt při docela dobrém obědě, ve vedlejším pokoji, jen nedokáži přežít teď, bez Tebe.
I can't survive NOW. Lubomír Tomik I can't survive NOW without you, time is a rubber band in Your hair, it stretches and contracts, time is Your smile it stretches and contracts, time is death next door in the hospital room at a pretty good lunch, suddenly confusion and hustle, I didn't move out of the room for a few weeks, only on a wheelchair, toilet and secretly in the shower, after the accident I only knew one island, on it You and a room with a view to life, after the meal I reached out and turned to the other side, close eyes and looked at yours, everything else was… unrealistic, not recommended… .some death at a pretty good lunch, in the next room, just can't survive NOW without YOU.
Pustím cd a … I was left to stare….
…vzniku podobné skladby jsem se účastnil.
Dakhma . Tower of silence.
A dakhma, also known as the Tower of Silence, is a circular, raised structure built by Zoroastrians for excarnation – that is, the exposure of dead human bodies to carrion birds, usually vultures.[1]
Zoroastrian exposure of the dead is first attested in the mid-5th century BCE Histories of Herodotus, but the use of towers is first documented in the early 9th century CE.[1] The doctrinal rationale for exposure is to avoid contact with Earth, Water, or Fire, all three of which are considered sacred in the Zoroastrian religion.[1]
One of the earliest literary descriptions of such a building appears in the late 9th-century Epistles of Manushchihr, where the technical term is astodan, „ossuary“. Another technical term that appears in the 9th/10th-century texts of Zoroastrian tradition (the so-called „Pahlavi books“) is dakhmag, for any place for the dead.
The modern-day towers, which are fairly uniform in their construction, have an almost flat roof, with the perimeter being slightly higher than the centre. The roof is divided into three concentric rings: the bodies of men are arranged around the outer ring, women in the second circle, and children in the innermost ring. Once the bones have been bleached by the sun and wind, which can take as long as a year, they are collected in an ossuary pit at the centre of the tower, where – assisted by lime – they gradually disintegrate, and the remaining material – with run-off rainwater – runs through multiple coal and sand filters before being eventually washed out to sea.
From Wikipedia



Dance with me.
Dnes se mnou jen tanči, lehce, když bude správná chvíle, něco sem dát, pohladit Tě. Čas 2:52 , když … ale pěkně koukej od začátku. Nežijeme příběh? Myslím, že ano.
All the SCENTS of the world. Všechny ,,vuně“ světa.

All the SCENTS of the world. Lubomir Tomik The headline in the news reads: -All the SCENTS of the world- ... You can imagine the SCENT as beautiful fairies on a meadow in the middle of a dense coniferous forest, in the moonlight he runs there they jump from feet to feet and it looks, that they are nice .....bitches - Ha! And Gotcha!- Smile.



„Who’s there, my God, who’s there?“

"Who's there, my God, who's there?" Lubomír Tomik Ernest Hemingway knocked out a phone booth, it was only afternoon, guy in an old STB secret police coat with a leather bag and an injured spine entered a roundabout, the cars stopped indecisively and the drivers didn't know what to do, the guy in the orange overalls was walking on the railway embankment, for a moment he even seemed to be able to control the tracks and sleepers but then he looked at the track in front of him he stared until his eyeballs fell out and on the gleaming tracks they rolled toward the unknown, head to all the tattoo ink, Ernest Hemingway knocked out a phone booth, the handset fell to the ground, coins spilled, on the other side of the line was Ema Destin and she cried : ,, Who is there, O God, O God, who is there? "



The sullen man. Ten zasmušilý chlapík.

The sullen man. Lubomír Tomik Before he lay down under the sign No. 😯 called some Reynolds the soul was winking and was almost on the edge before he lay down under the sign No. 😯


Matyášovou branou.

Matyášova brána se zbytky někdejšího městského opevnění – vnitřní středověké hradby stojí nedaleko Masarykova náměstí v parku za komplexem jezuitských budov. Je to jedna ze tří městských bran, původně nazývaná Zadní, později Královská. Po požáru v roce 1609 musela být znovu obnovena. Další pozůstatky městského opevnění se nacházejí v blízkosti někdejšího arzenálu – císařské zbrojnice a na konci ulice Dlouhá (základy válcové věže).

A je TO tady, pomyslel si. And here IT is, he thought.

And here it is, he thought. Lubomír Tomik And here it is he thought, it was like a whiplash, creaking skin, blinding light, the bow passes over the remnants of the silhouettes of the pig casings Her hips curl, she tasted all that, young heart, young with a gnaw of darkness. And here it is he thought, it's here and he felt her teeth pierce his flesh.
Completely attack. Úplně napadrť.
Dnes speciálně pro Tebe, ať údery boxovací rukavice , které zazní, úplně napadrť rozbijí Tvou nemoc.

Completely attack. Lubomír Tomik under the blows of hands tearing me to pieces stomachs broken gushing vermilion in the palms of the wreckage of the eyes completely attack.

Boiler full of necks. Kotel plný hrdel.

Albrecht Dürer: Utrpení deseti tisíc křesťanů, 1508
Foto: Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum © KHM-Museumsverband

Boiler full of necks. Lubomír Tomik the boiler full of throats overflows and the characters as from Durer's woodcut, they disappear and appear above the surface of the saddled goulash of blood, wooden spoon disappears somewhere in the clouds feet appear the image is suddenly colored, is red, smudges of green, black to brown full of movement and lamentation: Halving a bull in a poppy field.
Just another fix. Pro Tebe, lásko. To Floor.

jUst anoTHER fix. lubomír tomik sleePing powdEr théNarDier has his pockets full lobsters whine softly they smile eccentRically rhythmicAlly padded cell next to the room it looks unusual in her eyes he spent five minutes viGorously in china than he lived ONly the life of cats before there are one more of us he stares into his eyes and they removed the skin from the headless hull grotesque performance he is one of those priests you had to put it on. a guy driving in the fog across an abyss behind igraine scattering from the cloak letters of the alphabet.

Happy birthday
Happy birthday Floor, my Teacher, my Queen.

There is always time for a kiss, Lulu thought.

There is always time for a kiss, Lulu thought. Lubomír Tomik And so she twisted her ass in the slow rhythm of the music, rippled hips, but it was useless, the bar was empty. She reached into her back pocket and found, she didn't even have any money.

It really happened … only the music was different … I don’t know what was playing when I was there … but the sadness in the tones of the accordion is accurate.
Mezi hroby. Between the graves.

Between the graves. Lubomír Tomik Between the graves you can smell cologne, -Hi Your feets!- I smile, between the graves you can smell cologne, the heart bursts under the onslaught of baits,tits,etc, paperback, between the graves you can smell cologne several african american guys leaning on a tree in the hot heat, goes through a ghetto somewhere in Ostrava opens the door you're there, you are naked and you are lying on the table as if nothing was happening. Then you just say: -You do five things at once. You have to concentrate.-
Mažu své básně . /Pro Tebe/ I erase my poems. /For You/

I erase my poems in PC. Lubomír Tomik I erase my poems. I'm erase them and now, now I'm getting ready for this one! -NOOOOO!!!!!- she shouted. -I will definitely be THE RIGHT ONNEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!- Is he still here?

Date on Fortress cemetery…scary.
Drone in the ears.

Když jsem Tě poprvé uviděl jinak

Someone else’s poem about me.

Someone else's poem about me. Lubomir Tomik the forest is the sun of my soul dark falls is my forest my soul is a forest set dark is soul sun My forest my soul is a dark forest above which the sun sometimes sets and hunters? They can't get rid of the feeling that it won't turn out well.

Nea Hellas.

Na konci jsme Ty a já, dnes…jedna událost vede ke druhé.
Evolution. Evoluce.

evolutioN.
lubomír tomik
and you don’t know who we are or where we’re going
and you don’t know either,
in the retina reflections of deer eyes
there is a shadow,
grunts
And it disappears in the thicket
The quail bit through the hawk’s throAt
and evolution?
diSappeared into shit.
Moment on Ukraine.

Vize prostoru a času. Visions of time and space.

At the ball at the opera. Na plese v opeře.

Read and recorded in Studio Shaark.
At the ball at the opera. Lubomír Tomik Plastic silicon dolls dancing at a ball in the opera and a hungry man, in the middle of a bombed-out block of houses, he sniffs an eye from the dead man's burnt skull. Spread your arms, Death, your time has come.

Spider sun.

Crowleyho Tarot na dnešní den…a karta je…
Crowleyho tarot – 11 – Síla (probud.se) …..Osoby narozené ve Lvu budou vašimi důležitými zrcadly, odrážejícími váš potenciál projevovat se tvůrčím způsobem.TY. Nebo pocítíte potřebu dořešit se zrozenci ve Lvu (21. července – 21. srpna) některé záležitosti z minulosti. TY.
Banální básnické haraburdí známé od 19. století. Banal poetic junk known since the 19th century.

Banal poetic junk known since the 19th century. /To Milan K./ Lubomír Tomik In the raunchy neighborhood of Edo the sound of wooden sandals crosses a stone bridge. Her eyes, she has a light canopy of sorrow draped over them.

Banal poetic junk known since the 19th century.
The title of the poem is from prof. Milan Knížák, Milan Knížák – Wikipedie (wikipedia.org) years ago he gave me a nice slap in his words, I needed her, thanks. Thanks for You time. These are his words:
„You use banal poetic junk known since the 19th century.“
Time …. a word.
Thank you ….words . But sincerely.
And after Your criticism, I wrote this poem…maybe special haiku.
Try to capture feelings. …..How does a sales woman feel?
Kapela Pantok ve zkušebně.

Impozantní chřestová polévka. Impressive asparagus soup.
Impressive asparagus soup.

Impressive asparagus soup. /For You / Lubomír Tomik part one. back to the scum in the traps of outgoing women, I tilt my head, closed eyes soak inside through the breathing tube they travel to my heart she stares at him in amazement he sees withered blackened bits of sorrow and hatred Hate. Sadness. But it was a long time ago. part two. dreams furrowed by ghosts flying sukkub attacking breasts, saliva leaving the mouth ajar, quiet delicious dripping I'm heading for the harbor barge full of white snow I'm heading for the morgue I cross thousands of lips blackened with opium tincture I walk through the crowd of demimondens with crooked hats I grab the Maguey worm in my teeth the real soul of every human being it is hidden in its own darkness in that unkind girlfriend of us all it is not advisable to look into this abyss you have to try: dreams furrowed by ghosts torn pajama by cocks, in which no one dreams those dreams anymore, furrowed by You we swim in an impressive asparagus soup, all around, over and over. From ,,Dinner at Minski " /2016/
Karta Crowleyho Tarotu …
…měla pravdu.
Tarot na dnešní nahrávání… – Midian Poet
Úžasný zážitek.

Z knihy výkladů.
-převrácený Pentagram. Splněno.

-Nápad spojený s dalším rozvojem čeká v hloubce a je udržován naživu, dokud nepřijde čas jeho uskutečnění. Splněno.
-Uvěznění v pasti vášní…. Splněno, jsem uvězněn v Tobě, měl jsem celou dobu před sebou Tvou fotku.
-Prožívat vlastní pudy jako tvůrčí energii. Splněno.
-Nevědomé sítě moci a závislosti… Nemůžu posoudit, ….NEVĚDOMÉ- to víš jen Ty. Ale ano, máš mne ve své moci, ano, jsem na Tobě závislý.
Samozřejmě jsem nevybral vše, co karta představuje….ale je to ..jiné, vytáhnout ze 78 karet zrovna trumfového Ďábla, bylo to….ďábelské !
A jdu poslechnout , co jsme s Pavlem vykouzlili…..další heslo z knihy výkladů bylo- Černá magie.
Splněno….,co je magie, co jsou kouzla a zaklínadla , než slova, psaná nebo pronesená nahlas ?
–
Minski The Cannibal.
Minski The Cannibal by Marquis de Sade (goodreads.com)

Tarot na dnešní nahrávání…
