Here to There and Then Here Again. [Rhymy Prose]

Hands and eyes for writing again.

Big words, foreign languages, unsheltered thoughts and unweighted leaps for potential hay landings.

I wonder who it is I please more. The angel, The devil or myself.

Of amor, the thought of the Secretary comes to mind. The thought of Newton comes to mind. The thought of Parzival and Domenico comes to mind. Of great catholic virgins. Of Prophets. Of Muhammad PBUH.

All like another, none like another. Humans, exalted, suffering from their uniqueness, are all too human for their own sake. I will not comment on God's musings. Too many have speculated on that. Too many speculate against that. Few are content with their thinking to not go that way.

Oh Parsifal. Parsifal with an 'f'. Flease hearf mef for I haf finned.

Fleaf hearf me for I haf virtuefd. 

Fleaf hearf me for I haf annulled the dichotomy.

Fleaf hearf me for I tell a bad joke that's not funny.

And I too, on it, do not, laugh.

Tis me in honesty, and I do not quote. This feeling, as if I've been griped. Aware and not at all. Here and not at all. What mode of Dasein is it Heidegger. What Dasein is of he who's all too himself to not feel himself at all?

Dasein. Dasein. Dasein.

I carouse and espouse. I invoke Deus. Immanent. Transcendent. Vehement. with all His Qualities. Tis he who can absolve. Satiate. Satisfy ravings of he who takes too much pride in his own ego. Who fortunately, or unfortunately, attempts to be too much like Him. Or too little.

Let me get to the mechanical pleasure, all too in-laid for me.