Some Laundry In The Air Poem by Atef Ayadi

i have the opportunity
to hike north the continent and south.
what happen
to the natives, north and south
is more awe-full than,
throwing nuclear bomb
and hundred of thousand of people and
other being that are barbecued and then cremated in one second.
they say our values are superior and exceptional to theirs. (values follow and evolve with that physical hierarchy that promotes it.)

every website,
one desire and one wants,
they are selling something at minimum marginal cost, almost none; while blowing all values up.
either a big bung
or a expansion of the universe,
it is still a selling point.
if someone or an anonymous entity is asking one to subscribe,
that screw driver is not credible.
by any means.
it could be
that i am trying to prove myself
wrong.
weird hah?
at least i have a 'thesis.'
and my thesis'
introduction is that
life is a connection
without control.
the the thesis' hot potato core must be:
one can live ones life
without meaning.
anything one hears
in any western epistemology
department is only noise,
from cult shouting to braking bones.
then everything is blowing up out
of
pro
peau
orchid.
(since the 'tion' and
'chin'
are the same, i helped my self with an orchid.)

actially,
my 'prefered'
'way'
is that life is meaningless.
i do not look for meaning while
i am experiencing it.