09 March 2016

Whole world going brazy: white kids, strange cafes and YG

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with an iphone 5?
First off, a chink’d like to with a happy birthday to the mans, YG. There. If only a chink could just bick back be bool. Shit. Nah it’s all good. A chink got honestly few worries in life. So few that in the middle of a Wednesday school day, a chink hop on the goddamn metro and went to Le Moineau Masqué. A chink walked his red maoist, chink ass down to the metro on jfk and toob the green line all the way to Berri UBAM, then transferred to Mont-royal and walked to Marie-Ann. Shit, no hard c sounds in that last bit. Fine, Bunt. Fubing bunt. Shit. Alright, a chink ban’t even talk in sentences. A chink just gonna go in fragments shit.

The three of them, a chink and two whites, around a wall, the class starting at 1:30 going on until fucking forever.
who is? big wei?
The three of them, two on the ground and a chink standing; three whiny privileged children.

One hour of class, white woman talking talking, impenetrable accent, CH-asm, KLEUH-REEEEEEEEE-sa. The color of the room the line of the light the boredom of the chairs—

Man infront of me, septum webdesign shirt boi at me boi, I—a chink NO.

Walk aimless, two hours, metro stations, crowd.

Old men, old women, white white white, damp smell body odor, crowds at 4pm, no space to breath,
                        chink with book
                                                at the stop
            in the middle of the cart(ridge), the leftside of the train, the pattern

pictures of the smokers of the ads of the weight of the secondary education of the trades of the FOXFIRE FOXFIRE FOXFIRE FOXFIRE FOXFIRE FOXFIRE
                        black nike shoes, free run 5.0 , never before an adidas running shoe

a café in the middle of the plateau, the dead area around the center of the island of the peninsula in a fancy corner of the street named of marie-anne

the sparrow and the mask
and a chink eyes that over and over and over look at the walls the large balloon lights

and the little girl to the right coloring and doing Spanish homework, a French speaking girl, maybe 13, maybe 10,

double shot Americano, eddie huang double cup love

to the side and around—
                                           middle aged people strangely—maybe young
workinga at macbooks hands on keyboards eyes on screens stansmithsandrippedjeansonfeetandleg(respectively)

white people all around again, well no, maybe the owner looking mediterranean maybe middle eastern  ,
the detail of the pattern—
the movement of fingers and eyes across the room, strangely cozy, strangely too hip strangelymiddleagedandyoung
faded chairs?
strangely far and near all around
in the middle of the
dead zone.

by the time the halfway of the clock a chink alone again, no one in the masked sparrow, owner outside, with cigarette

man and woman on sidewalk on the verge of

top on the phone
top on the phone
and black on top of outside , light rain and slowly warm
the detail of the pattern—
the detail of the pattern—
the detail of the pattern—
the movement of the action in the streets on the sidewalk, the crosswalks, cars speeding

no cigarettes on this yet—cigarettes NOW

and the sweetness and the fruit the tart the bitter smooth, blithe,
of the coffee,
of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit          
of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
of that allotted time, allotted space
of man’s movement—
My motions in him, longer then they—
For ever, to —
Do you dance big wei do you dance?
Do you dance big wei do you dance?

Do you dance big wei do you dance?

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