Burroughsova Carsonse, z Místa slepých uliček.
Naked Nahý lunch oběd.
Toto se mi stalo, kombinace věcí synchronicit všechno na jednom místě,místě.
7:11 ráno s Burroughsem…
…teprve teď přeneseno do pc, i audio, bez střihu zvuku nahraná náhodná kapitola z Burroughsovy novely Místa slepých uliček, nahráno a bez střihu u stolu na fotografii , která je sama střihem zní
Karta je ,,Ďábel“ a jsem v tom až po uši a je to úžasné !
Číst Williama Burroughse. Lubomír Tomik Williame, Williame, jak je, v Západních zemích ? nakazil jsi všechny ochotné virem Slova, vítaly Tě transparenty a davy na mezcích ? Slova z těch sladkých ty nejsladší ?
Wiliame, zakousni se do čarodějky Kiki !
Read William Burrouhs
how are you,
in Western countries?
you have infected all the willing with the virus of the Word,
Did banners and crowds on mules greet you?
Words from the sweet the sweetest?
/ Please, listen audio above and sorry, there in no translation, they are accidental words from book/
William, bite the witch Kiki!
Picture above from Promethea- is a comic book series created by Alan Moore, J. H. Williams III and Mick Gray, published by America’s Best Comics/WildStorm.“ Number 12
Poet Video ,,Turbulence vzpomínek.“
Turbulence of memories.
Turbulence of memories,
sucked me completely from plane…
… and not at all,
and in general!
Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci Poet Videa z oblaků je…. taková, že mi malinko vyrazila dech. Začínal jsem před třemi hodinami s kartou ,,Umění“ –
Jen pro připomenutí- 22 karet velké Arkány, 56 karet malé Arkány, dva Mágové navíc…to máme osmdesát karet.¨
Včera -publikace ,,Cesty do romantiky.“ ,,Ďábel.
Dnes publikace ,, Turbulence vzpomínek.“ Ďábel.
Co zítra ? M.L.V. 2022 ? 🙂 !
Looking forward to !
A příprava na ni, teď.
Třetí postava . Macbeth. Všude William. BurroughShakeSpeare. ,,Přání pro Tebe.“
Přání Lubomír Tomik její přání jejich popel fotografie laděná do směsi černé látky a dřeva vždy mne zabiješ její přání jejich popel otevřu dveře a Ty tam pokaždé jsi, rozkoušu a spolykám ostří nožů obalených medem Tebou, tím pohledem mimochodem XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Wish Lubomír Tomik her wishes her ashes picture tuned into a mixture of black fabric and wood you will always kill me her wishes her ashes open the door and you are always there I bite my teeth and swallow honey-coated knife blades You, by that view, by the way XXXXXXXXXXXX Karta na publikaci slov stále pod opiáty proti bolesti je....,,Aeon"
Čtení v nedělním jarním mrazu… A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou . ,,Kapitola padesátá čtvrtá -Mistři rizika-dokončení!“
And I held astronaut Peters by the hand. Lubomír Tomik Chapter Fifty-Four Masters of Risk - Completion. Sometimes it seemed to him that everything bad ended in the bad times that were over. But if something happens that excites us and separates us from the irretrievable past, then life will once again shine with dizzying colors like the carnival that has died down on the verge of maturity. -But I don't want to lie. Yes. Life with me dragged me around Alaska.- -What were you doing there? - -Trust me, I did what I wanted.- -You would think you were in the Klondike at a time when there was a gold rush .- Tata Iwi answered willingly.-Klondike… I don't think it's worth a word. It was much easier to get a box of gold than to get rich without dripping. We didn't take the rifle out of our hands for a moment. When someone knocked on the door of our hut after sunset, I first started firing and only then I asked who was there. It wasn't a gold rush… rather bloody. You can't imagine how raw a cultural person can be when he is intoxicated by the desire for mammon. -Sorry, I don't like it, darling. ”Suzanne said, twisting his nose with a towel. -I didn't think about what I was doing.- William was silent. The old, familiar, sweet smell I could feel as I approached her shadow in the house. -Why are we here? -I was suddenly thinking. -Plop !!!! - suddenly the air around us filled up. - Moreover, the move, "said the Captain. -I have a pile of records and a pretty big turntable. But we could take a taxi.- -I can arrange it. I'll get a car- said Tata Iwi. -Well that's wonderful. Friends -? - -Yes! -they all said at once. The captain smiled. A hand emerged from the darkness and tugged Tata Iwi's ear. - Hey, Grandma!-You should have a machete with you, you run around the rainforest just barefoot, what if a snake appeared…? - "Captain cried in an unexpectedly stern voice." There was no word of his own. The wind suddenly grew stronger and stronger. Grandma's milkman screamed and screamed and screamed and Tata Iwi whimpered in pain and the Captain laughed. William didn't expect anything and knocked Grandma's milkman down once. She lay in a pool of blood, barefoot, and growled: - My goat… my granddaughter..save his parachutist? William… Willia… - and she exhaled for the last time. -We going home! ”A wide Belfast accent shouted. William shoved the revolver into its holster. A man came forward. -It was like this, Commissioner. I could not come to the repair earlier, because the boss… simply the material has not yet arrived.- -Talk to the point! - -I couldn't tell the lady left. When someone orders a craftsman, they should at least leave a message with a neighbor.- And quite up above the jungle are figures in overalls. They rise higher and higher to the sky and stretch thin wires over the jungle. End of Chapter 54. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Karta Crowleyho tarotu na publikaci slov je..... https://probud.se/tarot1/crowleyho-tarot/velka-arkana/996-crowleyho-tarot-16-v
Čtení v děšti na sobotní večer pro Tebe ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou“ Kapitola padesátá třetí.
Napsáno více jak před deseti lety , jakákoli shoda se skutečností je náhoda nebo synchronicita.
And I held astronaut Peters by the hand. Lubomír Tomik Chapter Fifty-Three. Risk lovers. They parked in front of a tall, narrow house, the windows on the ground floor were closed by faded net curtains. A battered brick wall, a trickle of water trickled down the broken gutter, leaving a slimy green stain on the front steps. It was a two-story house, and the upper broken beams towered over the branches of the trees like the strange keels of shipwrecks. A dead house among thousands of dead houses, whispering the message of a bygone era. Everything is coming to an end. Somewhere in the suburbs of London, someone plays a gramophone record and the quiet, deep and hoarse voice of the singer Varja Panin came to us in silence: "My dear, it's a purely feminine point of view- "Try to stop me, do a miracle There is nothing so magnificent in the world Make it a big bomb She couldn't blow up Someone is calling me from the outside, I don't want to be alone now " -She says, in fact, he says he has bad blood.- Bobby said. I smiled. We walked in silence after the song ended. The world of adults differs from children's only minimally. It is a world where rapists are at their best, where excuses do not satisfy anyone, least of man alone, where cowardice corrodes the soul and you don't care. -That's what the song is about, ”Suzanne said. It's thundering and raining. The tree branch flutters sharply in front of the dim light of the street lamp, casting grotesque shadows on the glistening sidewalk. We missed the playground. Abandoned. We walked in silence. From the course we went to the cenote dagrado-sacred well, it is not strange that the Mayans, who worshiped the god of rain, considered the well sacred. There are no rivers nearby. If anyone knew at all that an underground river appeared and lost again in the underground jungle, then it must have been only the chosen people. And suddenly, in a place where the water was nowhere, a twenty-meter-thick layer of limestone collapsed and sediment appeared. Shrubs and trees disappeared under the water in the depression, and the white walls in the middle of the lush green forest demanded sacrifices like the teeth of the big mouths of the rain god. According to legend, the most beautiful girls threw themselves into the well. They dressed them richly, adorned them with precious jewels, and led them to a well under white bedspreads. However, a special group that examined the bottom of the well in 1974 proved that girls were not thrown into the well. All the skeletons found at a depth of thirteen meters belonged to men. Daddy Iwi, in an anachronistic swallow attire and with his knees dropped, bowed silently to the ground. It was a success. Everyone laughed. His lips are pale and his eyes shine dangerously. His mind immediately began to imagine, and the businesswoman, Růžena Rybízová, opened herself dressed in a colorful shiny robe and blinked in surprise. Lines of clouds chase around the pale moon, which is just disappearing behind a black wall of rain. Bobby burst out laughing. Tata Iwi, with a seemingly stern face, announces that she needs to get something in Miss Currant's grocery store. Anger freed me from judgment and deprived me of caution. -Freat! Be careful not to let your miserable soul come out of you! In our world, news is spreading at the speed of light. However, this will not always be the case. Dad glared at me. -Look! We live with germs around us, and when we become immune to them, we may not care that they exist. Yes, I'm glad I know that. I'm glad I know exactly who is rubbing his mouth on me. From which corner do they throw mud at me. Earlier… before…, when I was young. Do you realize that you are running to pagan superstitions to avert God's wrath? Which shows how confusing you are about religion.- He spoke flawless German, tired and chubby ala Graf Zeppelin, and ended his sentences with a violent, imbalance laugh that went into violent and unbearably bright tones. The head was covered with a cap with sewn-on ears from an old wolf. They stuck to the sides, always trapped, as if they sensed danger. The end of the first part. End of the fifty-third part. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Několik drobných omylů při čtení ponecháno, konec s dovětkem a následným zahřměním je ponechán pro ilustraci, protože..... je to záznam jednoho TEĎ...a hlavně, ani nevíš co to pro mne znamená , být naživu, mít možnost, dělat to co dělám. Můj právní zástupce mi včera řekl, že šance na přežití při sražení automobilem v rychlosti šedesáti pěti kilometrů za hodinu, jak se to stalo mě, je deset procent. DESET. Karta Velké Arkány Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci sobotního čtení je - ,,Mág."
PS: A ano – ,,V DĚŠTI“.
A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou : Předehra. Audio.
I dedicate to You the first prelude to my edited novel and all the following chapters as well, to the end, thanks for my life.
A novel for You.
AND I HOLD ASTRONAUT PETERS IN HAND
FOREWORD: Disaster threatens 28 degrees North latitude and 43 degrees west longitude.
In the morning they had cold milk instead of tea. The captain forbade to start a fire.
The boats came within range. Three men jumped ashore from each. They were only lightly armed, without muskets. They were all dressed the same, in leather pants, tucked into high boots and smooth leather jackets.
-Like fishermen from the north, the Captain thought.
Time passes in a long silence before Señor Alvarez finally declares restrainedly: -It could ruin my plans! –
The captain sat on the sand, listening to the radio with his headphones on, his crystal.
He fumbled with his hand for a moment, as if conducting a concert. His eyes were narrowed, his straw mustache was in danger of catching a cigarette that hung forgotten between his lips.
-Guys-he spoke towards us-You shouldn’t work because work kills. They broke a stone in one quarry. They drilled a stone, inserted a dynamite cartridge, and before they lit its cigar, the trumpet player blew his horn, which means everything had to run. At that moment, an engineer thought that he had forgotten the lulka there and returned for it. Naturally, he disappeared from the world. So you see, work kills, you shouldn’t work, and that’s it. Next time I will tell you about Hungarian salami. That it won’t go wrong, either in the heat or at sea. I will also tell you that if I had a ton of Hungarians, I would not be afraid to walk around the world, and nothing would happen to me.
- What about the nutmeg lounge? „Eileen said.
The Muscat Lounge was the Captain’s invention, actually just its name. At one end of the morning dining room, Eileen built a three-walled greenhouse and stuffed the geraniums so that the geraniums tasted and sniffed every morning for breakfast, and the Captain sat in a wicker chair in the greenhouse to read the Times in the cold morning sun.
Hujer sat in the kitchen, his hands folded in his lap, staring blankly through the dusty window on the street. The deceptively cold morning sun woke the blue fly prematurely in a crack. She hit the glass and buzzed irritably.
-I should open it and let her out — he thought- but let him get cold there, bitch.-
Bearded Arabs with white turbans, screams, summons – everything disappears in the hiss and smell of carbide lamps.
The typewriter button sticks to my final long bony fingers, which sweat upset when I write these sentences! Suddenly my eyes seemed to petrify into a pillar of salt, but here a new voice, inside my own head, told me.
-It’s behind you. You’ve gotten above it. That’s it. People can overcome everything.-
-Mhmmm.-I thought.-If I were a girl, I’d be naive.-
The tape reels began to rotate slowly. Mysterious patterns of geometrically arranged patterns are formed on hundreds of X-rays, unwinding from several coils.
He looked at the radio and remembered his father, an ear pricked on the receiver, longing for the plight of England, pleased with the distant catastrophes.
The captain weighed his revolver.
There was a heavy, undisturbed silence.
Hujer stubbornly returns to the thoughts of the fly.
The captain then wiped the table top with his rag with his other hand and brought a map from the ship.
-Look.-He unfolded it. It was big, bigger than the table. The whole world, known at the time, could fit in on her.
They looked at the colorful continents and the light blue sea. In places where the map was translated, someone taped it with a gray canvas. It shone through the cracks in the paper into the continents and the sea. The world was divided by the canvas into gray-lined rectangles, and somewhere, some were missing.
-Here we are.- said the Captain.-We could set sail for their help- He suggested and leaned over the map.
End of overture.
Začátek napsán více jak před deseti lety, zkusím najít originál. Jakákoliv shoda jmen a postav a situací je náhodná.
Každopádně bude co zlepšovat, takhle to začíná. Bez střihů, zvukových efektů, kouzel…jen čtení, Ty a já .
Chvílemi bylo opravdu těžké se ovládnout, na tom se bude muset zapracovat, nemůžu za to, že mám takovou fantazii, celou scénu jsem viděl z první řady a nešlo se nerozesmát.
Poet Audio Novel…ne, tohle je jiný projekt .
William shoot William
..i love moment at 1:26…he give Him the chance.
… na zbytek posledního dne v Darkově.
In Tangier….everything is possible…
lying on the beach .
ďábelské útesy. devil’s cliffs.
ďábelské útesy. lubomír tomik slova jsou ďábElské úTesy, na nichž sní kolumbova santa maria, mudrCi světových stran putovali loukou vybuchující vůněmi v explozích Opojných pylů, slAdkých jako ty, Ganéša si poposedl rUce zavířily v ladných pohybech Levandulové záblesky pAlba myšlenek, ďábElské úTesy, na nichž spí kolumbova santa maria, Cizokrajná spřežení na nebi, hOlubice v barvě okru, isis okovů zbAvená leGendami opředená pUlsující životem, Líbající otevřená ústa ústa ústa sAsanek, ďábElské úTesy, na nichž kolumbova santa maria dlí, troskotajíCí znovu a znovu, burrOughs se zubí za kormidlem, hejnA kačin , robotické hlavy letí na měsíc kočárem taženým labutěmi, melinda Gebbie malUje a tančí, pLátna plná životA.
devil's cliffs. lubomír tomik the words are dEvilish cliffs on which sanTa maria dreams, the sages of the world traveled through the toxiC meadow explOding with odors in intoxicating pollen explosions, sweet like jehovA, Ganesha sat in a virtual position the hands swirled in gracefUl movements Lavender flashes, Album of ideas, dEvilish cliffs on which santa maria sleeps Classic sledges in heaven in Ocher color, isis dreAms left behind, leGends are real, pUlsing life kissing Living mouth of Art, dEvilish cliffs on which sanTa maria waiting for tomorrow, shipwreCked again and again, burrOughs behind the helm, a flock of ducks, robotic heAds flying to the moon in a carriage pulled by swans, melinda Gebbie paints pUre and dances, Lost in beAuty.