by Jimmy Joyce.. and many a divergent conflicting opinion of it.. has been given therein; I understood it to a divisible degree, pretty much perfectly.. but I wont trouble you with my footnotes...
Then read it from the back page first.. then from the middle out left.. and waded through it.. Fik me.. what disorder did was to make it clear as a bell heard through a Peat bog prism, during a heavy downpour of deep fried frogs legs...
then over the next 3 months I arranged it back to it's original pages "in my mind".. it was a desert that needed surviving I can honestly tell you.. Ironically; I got the last page; last..
(Wow to the Power of late flowering 'Harnessed Autism'.. I am almost a soft machine.. thats why; I have 'so little personality'.. ahem.. if MI5 wants an un-randomizer up to 128 bit decryption I can break a hidden code.. back to it's first entry.. just pay me in Bullion.. or a nice Girl I can teach good English to)
I'd call it; a poor first draft.. too much detail without focus; not enough supporting description of character intention thought of who said what?.. it's a drunkard's ravings, without too many belly laughs..
self indulgent verbal self immolation by methane farts lit by all the Devil's usual temptations... with a great lack of personal hygiene.. it's a book more like a POLLOCK painting, just dribbling Drivel.. that only a drunk would tolerate listening to.. Coz Joyce has the Bottle... and you like a free refill..
but I did learn one Priceless Lesson!... to let ''the stream of consciousness free until you drop from exhaustion"... dont go back and edit... just carry on regardless.. trouble is, he did not evolve enough to skillfully master it... or to ever reach a point worth waiting for.. it's too much recollections of a life paused.. and living out of sync with the present.. that never reaches now:
but; it is a work of Art; in spite of itself.. and without it.. this very Blog of mine "could not exist".. it taught me.. dont be afraid of trying to describe, anything that catches your attention.. or to hold the beauty in your mind long enough to finish a sentence; or conclude in a thought.. that poses a landing point to jump across the lily pond without drowning..
one Leaf at a time.. as you explore the vast world within you that longs to be heard and understood.. to give life to the unspoken brainchild that has tales of wonder yet to tell.. and to take pride in your own madness... it's a showstopper.. when you hone and control it, in the masterful manipulation of the human heart.. by truly intrinsic linguistics..
that can heal another, by symbiotic identification.. to write what others are too afraid to say; or even 'think'.. to be a linguist of liberation.. and help others to find their own voice.. and their true freedom..
and not be afraid to use it!.. as both a weapon of War and a Trumpet of Peace.. to aspire, to speak the very words, of God.. to a few; who may bend an ear and actually hear.. You/me/we/us; together as one unified gentle collective..
Come back from the carbon.. revert from dust into life..
help the weak meek and poor in their endless strife..
Not me; I dont need help..
Pray for someone else; who deserves it..
Be with me; be free, today for all eternity..
just to want it,
is to have it:
it's that easy.. x
the prison of a Prism...
he who is fooled by Colour alone; will never see the Light... that combines it into white:
7th DRAFT 21:31 Feb 29th: