WINTER 2021
12:23:2021
How do you know an understatement
for what it is?
Put words in my mouth,
scrub behind your ears—
maybe there isn't anything more to say!
Have it your way:
I'll slip into trances when nobody's looking
just to keep the mind at bay
while you go out hunting
all the elephants in the room!
The gift is in what you don't say—
your presence gives you away.
This is why we listen to the clock-wise,
try to talk wise when there never was wisdom in speaking.
Meaning, there's no meaning.
Nothing truer than what already is!
Names do to absolutes
what cells do to themselves:
divide, conquer.
Live longer, slowly, stronger, fearmonger.
Pitting the thing against its own nature,
wording the mind
out by mouth or on paper
will never be holier than subtext;
we can only ever redirect context.
for what it is?
Put words in my mouth,
scrub behind your ears—
maybe there isn't anything more to say!
Have it your way:
I'll slip into trances when nobody's looking
just to keep the mind at bay
while you go out hunting
all the elephants in the room!
The gift is in what you don't say—
your presence gives you away.
This is why we listen to the clock-wise,
try to talk wise when there never was wisdom in speaking.
Meaning, there's no meaning.
Nothing truer than what already is!
Names do to absolutes
what cells do to themselves:
divide, conquer.
Live longer, slowly, stronger, fearmonger.
Pitting the thing against its own nature,
wording the mind
out by mouth or on paper
will never be holier than subtext;
we can only ever redirect context.
12:26:2021
I want to know why the animals
don't talk back; I want to know why I can't understand whatever it is that I can't.
I don't know whatever I don't,
but that doesn't make it anymore true than whatever I do.
I can't say what I won't,
but that doesn't make it any more real
than these words I call home.
Why don't the little children
tell me what life is?
Because they can't explain themselves
like we claim to.
Children and animals—
and Adults somehow "othered"
by their own selves in vain, to explain.
There is nothing to explain.
You are yourself, and animals are so
and children are so and the universe is so and God is so.
All God ever does is talk;
we have only deceived ourselves
into assuming our role as the listeners.
don't talk back; I want to know why I can't understand whatever it is that I can't.
I don't know whatever I don't,
but that doesn't make it anymore true than whatever I do.
I can't say what I won't,
but that doesn't make it any more real
than these words I call home.
Why don't the little children
tell me what life is?
Because they can't explain themselves
like we claim to.
Children and animals—
and Adults somehow "othered"
by their own selves in vain, to explain.
There is nothing to explain.
You are yourself, and animals are so
and children are so and the universe is so and God is so.
All God ever does is talk;
we have only deceived ourselves
into assuming our role as the listeners.
1:5:2022
It isn't anything in particular, is it?
It just is, and that's it—
call it secret, magic, life itself;
call it like it is; I don't mind.
Your words can't tell me anything apart from syllable, apart from my own mind,
that is. I guess you could say
"that's just the way it is",
and I wouldn't blame you one bit.
Internally, that is—
on the outside, all I can do
is attack you with words,
add to the verse and in time
try to change both our minds.
Not for better or for worse, I fear,
for those are only empty words, mean as much as any meaning can,
fall apart in your hands
like some fickle foul curse.
Redisperse what you know
and in time it will grow
into anything everything seems to see fit
just like magic— that's it!
It just is, and that's it—
call it secret, magic, life itself;
call it like it is; I don't mind.
Your words can't tell me anything apart from syllable, apart from my own mind,
that is. I guess you could say
"that's just the way it is",
and I wouldn't blame you one bit.
Internally, that is—
on the outside, all I can do
is attack you with words,
add to the verse and in time
try to change both our minds.
Not for better or for worse, I fear,
for those are only empty words, mean as much as any meaning can,
fall apart in your hands
like some fickle foul curse.
Redisperse what you know
and in time it will grow
into anything everything seems to see fit
just like magic— that's it!
1:11:2022
I think I understand what prayer is now—
no, not that tug-of-war with the Future;
the one where you know
just what to say. Or maybe you don't,
but it turns out all right in the end anyway.
Time only moves forward,
and I bet that forward must be
the right way: one way. Anyway—
I am happy.
I don't hope that I'll be happy later;
I am happy now,
and nothing can change that
because the moment has already passed.
This breathing is my prayer.
My understanding is shallow;
this joy is a spring.
Cup your hands, now, don't be shy:
let your lips part the sea,
slow your mind down for me,
let your lungs know what means,
let your self set you free.
I think I understand what prayer is:
Now.
So be!
no, not that tug-of-war with the Future;
the one where you know
just what to say. Or maybe you don't,
but it turns out all right in the end anyway.
Time only moves forward,
and I bet that forward must be
the right way: one way. Anyway—
I am happy.
I don't hope that I'll be happy later;
I am happy now,
and nothing can change that
because the moment has already passed.
This breathing is my prayer.
My understanding is shallow;
this joy is a spring.
Cup your hands, now, don't be shy:
let your lips part the sea,
slow your mind down for me,
let your lungs know what means,
let your self set you free.
I think I understand what prayer is:
Now.
So be!
1:11:2022
Oh, how to pick apart bad pain from good;
How to know what I shouldn't and should
How to settle my body's kept score;
To determine what's less and what's more
How to seem like I am and not be as I seem;
How to realize my life as apart from a dream
How to learn what I know and not know what I learn;
To abandon my self ‘fore I'm due to return
How to let time take me before taking my time;
How to let phrases be without making them rhyme
How to say something new that has never been said;
How to live life alive without dying death dead!
How to know what I shouldn't and should
How to settle my body's kept score;
To determine what's less and what's more
How to seem like I am and not be as I seem;
How to realize my life as apart from a dream
How to learn what I know and not know what I learn;
To abandon my self ‘fore I'm due to return
How to let time take me before taking my time;
How to let phrases be without making them rhyme
How to say something new that has never been said;
How to live life alive without dying death dead!
The Babysitter
A ruddy, fleshy mound
Is giggling at nothing too obvious.
His eyes catch the light
Like lucky hands might catch
Dollar bills in a wind tunnel;
Maybe he’s seeing the color orange
For the very first time.
Aside from that, his baby fat
Makes it hard for him
To get a real eye-full:
Like a bug, he wriggles around
On his newborn back,
Babbling on worse than a biblical tower,
Aimlessly aiming,
Attuning his nonsense.
Sweet baby boy,
Nothing exists but what lies
In front of you.
Crawl.
Is giggling at nothing too obvious.
His eyes catch the light
Like lucky hands might catch
Dollar bills in a wind tunnel;
Maybe he’s seeing the color orange
For the very first time.
Aside from that, his baby fat
Makes it hard for him
To get a real eye-full:
Like a bug, he wriggles around
On his newborn back,
Babbling on worse than a biblical tower,
Aimlessly aiming,
Attuning his nonsense.
Sweet baby boy,
Nothing exists but what lies
In front of you.
Crawl.
RedlightGreenlightBlues
If you watch car blinkers long enough, you'll understand why time makes no goddamn sense. If you watch them for too long, you'll remember that you're making it up as it goes, that you're just sort of going along with it because what other choice do you have. That they go in and out of sync with each other. How eventually, you'll see them for just another gimmicky cycle. In sync for just a click or two, and then they start to slip away from each other, eventually get
to the point
to the point
to the point
where they are as different as different can be, like an object suspended in midair for that one impossible second where gravity hasn't kicked in yet. If there really are such things as constants, why aren't the numbers for them cleaner? Sometimes it seems like it couldn't ever
possibly be
possible, but it's
possible,
so it happens. It's real, legitimate science; credible like numbers, so you can count on it. It can count
against you if you're lucky, but luck tends not to care for numbers too much anyway. They're two completely different
timings; will you notice? Two completely different
times,
times,
and they fall in and out of love with each other. In and out of time to go away from here. Now and then
again and
again and
again.
The numbers add up, but they never tell you anything new. The constants all have arbitrary values. The waveform is collapsing. The particle is winking. The light is turning green
again.
to the point
to the point
to the point
where they are as different as different can be, like an object suspended in midair for that one impossible second where gravity hasn't kicked in yet. If there really are such things as constants, why aren't the numbers for them cleaner? Sometimes it seems like it couldn't ever
possibly be
possible, but it's
possible,
so it happens. It's real, legitimate science; credible like numbers, so you can count on it. It can count
against you if you're lucky, but luck tends not to care for numbers too much anyway. They're two completely different
timings; will you notice? Two completely different
times,
times,
and they fall in and out of love with each other. In and out of time to go away from here. Now and then
again and
again and
again.
The numbers add up, but they never tell you anything new. The constants all have arbitrary values. The waveform is collapsing. The particle is winking. The light is turning green
again.
Bird Callings
The birds call off work today. Call
their mother to tell her “I love you”, call
attention to the daylight, shadows, call
bullshit on your nine to five, call
on you for too many favors, call
each other friendship names, call
this time their own to kill, call
to arms their nature in defense of yours, call
into question your precious alibis, call
ahead and make a reservation, call
a spade a spade— and I mean gardening shovel— call
your bluff faster than you can make one up, call
the tune as they are playing it, call
it close but not too close, call
for desperate measures to keep up with the times, call
Eight hundred five-eight-eight two three hundred EMPIRE today, call
it even even when even feels odd, call
it a day and then call it a night, call
it bad and then call it right, call
but it went straight to voicemail,
and they had to
leave a message. \
their mother to tell her “I love you”, call
attention to the daylight, shadows, call
bullshit on your nine to five, call
on you for too many favors, call
each other friendship names, call
this time their own to kill, call
to arms their nature in defense of yours, call
into question your precious alibis, call
ahead and make a reservation, call
a spade a spade— and I mean gardening shovel— call
your bluff faster than you can make one up, call
the tune as they are playing it, call
it close but not too close, call
for desperate measures to keep up with the times, call
Eight hundred five-eight-eight two three hundred EMPIRE today, call
it even even when even feels odd, call
it a day and then call it a night, call
it bad and then call it right, call
but it went straight to voicemail,
and they had to
leave a message. \
1:25:2022
What you mean by "literal",
I think,
Is what the sea must think of air—
and what you make of metaphors
the goldfish don't have anything but time for. All they ever see is glass,
and you, sometimes, your hand—
it feeds, so they are kind enough to not bite until it leaves, and you are God.
What you mean by "literal",
I think,
Is what God must think of suffering—
and what you make of metaphors
the Bible doesn't have anything but time for. All it ever reads is past,
and you, sometimes, understand—
it needs, so words are old enough to rot in minds and trees, and time is not.
Is what God must think of suffering—
and what you make of metaphors
the Bible doesn't have anything but time for. All it ever reads is past,
and you, sometimes, understand—
it needs, so words are old enough to rot in minds and trees, and time is not.
What you mean by "literal",
I think,
Is what time must think of shape—
and what you make of metaphors
the plane doesn't have anything but space for. All it ever needs it has,
and you, sometimes, take a stand—
it heeds, so life is sly enough to plot its ancient thieves, and I'm a dot.
What you mean by “literal”,
I think,
Is what I must think of you —
and what we make of metaphors
the difference doesn't have anything but same for. All it ever frees it lacks,
and you, sometimes, make demands—
it breeds, so we are scared enough to knot as story weaves, and all is caught.
The WeathermaN
Yesterday I learned
That the man who invented the weather forecast
Slit his own throat.
It was so long ago that no one is even sure why he did it.
Fewer people care.
We’ve all got our own deaths to worry about, after all;
We have
Our own things we're not sure why we do, nevermind
The weatherman’s.
That the man who invented the weather forecast
Slit his own throat.
It was so long ago that no one is even sure why he did it.
Fewer people care.
We’ve all got our own deaths to worry about, after all;
We have
Our own things we're not sure why we do, nevermind
The weatherman’s.
Humans have always been far better at dancing for our rain
Than predicting it,
Always been far better about making patterns
Than breaking them.
What does that say about us? Hopefully, something along the lines of
Hello.
Something that runs along those lines, but isn’t quite
The same as them;
The space between a word and a page, ideas your eyes can’t see.
Than predicting it,
Always been far better about making patterns
Than breaking them.
What does that say about us? Hopefully, something along the lines of
Hello.
Something that runs along those lines, but isn’t quite
The same as them;
The space between a word and a page, ideas your eyes can’t see.
Today I learned
That a theme is kind of like electricity— it’s the thing that gives words their
Power,
The big meaning behind the little meanings, the reason our language
Forks lightning.
The original weatherman seemed to understand this long before anyone.
The critics say
That their criticism is what killed him; Historians claim it
Was History;
That a theme is kind of like electricity— it’s the thing that gives words their
Power,
The big meaning behind the little meanings, the reason our language
Forks lightning.
The original weatherman seemed to understand this long before anyone.
The critics say
That their criticism is what killed him; Historians claim it
Was History;
Psychologists blame psychology. Weathermen, of course, wag their fingers at
The weather,
Just as we have always blamed ourselves for our mistakes,
Begged the Gods
For their forgiveness: water-damage-control; lather, rinse,
Repeat.
Say hello and wave goodbye; sing and dance to please a sky that never had your
Interests at heart, and
Learn to play your part— or else lend a hand to whatever it was that murdered the weatherman.
The weather,
Just as we have always blamed ourselves for our mistakes,
Begged the Gods
For their forgiveness: water-damage-control; lather, rinse,
Repeat.
Say hello and wave goodbye; sing and dance to please a sky that never had your
Interests at heart, and
Learn to play your part— or else lend a hand to whatever it was that murdered the weatherman.
2/6/2022
There's no sight in my eyes
at times,
we point to clocks
And look for God's Odyssey:
How is the narrative carried
from moment to moment, coherently?
Sometimes, I don't know which
reality to cite:
the one that makes there be
sight in my eyes
Or the one who entices
The locks from their keys,
leaves no mystery to be plucked
from the minute's foul hands.
Seconds pass by conspiring against themselves,
maintaining their mutinies
however the crow flies.
I take the sight from my eyes
Just to give it back to me.
2:9:2022
I wouldn't say that I'd split your head open,
Wedge the candles in.
And maybe I've been making too many constellations, but if it's any consolation,
they're completely unintentional.
Love has no name I can pronounce,
Words I can speak.
Yet you know me for who I am to you
And my soul flickers on amid the upkeep.
I'd like to pretend that the meaning lies nestled
Inside the curvature of the letters; maybe it's
Buried six feet underground
Just like the version of me who
Decided to eat breakfast.
I'll never have that kind of access to you—
missed connections over corn flakes —
But I will not split your head open:
I'll just wax and wane right along with the moon;
I'm not cut out for prison.
Wedge the candles in.
And maybe I've been making too many constellations, but if it's any consolation,
they're completely unintentional.
Love has no name I can pronounce,
Words I can speak.
Yet you know me for who I am to you
And my soul flickers on amid the upkeep.
I'd like to pretend that the meaning lies nestled
Inside the curvature of the letters; maybe it's
Buried six feet underground
Just like the version of me who
Decided to eat breakfast.
I'll never have that kind of access to you—
missed connections over corn flakes —
But I will not split your head open:
I'll just wax and wane right along with the moon;
I'm not cut out for prison.
The Trash Goes Out On Tuesdays
Today might be trash day; there's no
soap left in the kitchen; I need to add that to my
lights are still on in my bedroom; I just know it will raise the
FAFSA is due soon; I have to get that done by
the way, are you doing okay?
You’ve been acting kind of off lately; I'm starting to get a little
headache, but I think we might be out of
clean forks; I guess I’ll just use one of the
trash goes out of it for like,
two whole minutes.
Are you even listening to me?
—on Tuesdays.
soap left in the kitchen; I need to add that to my
lights are still on in my bedroom; I just know it will raise the
FAFSA is due soon; I have to get that done by
the way, are you doing okay?
You’ve been acting kind of off lately; I'm starting to get a little
headache, but I think we might be out of
clean forks; I guess I’ll just use one of the
trash goes out of it for like,
two whole minutes.
Are you even listening to me?
—on Tuesdays.
2:11:2022
Lean in to your center of gravity;
Let your body show you
Where your fate has been.
In the morning,
I weigh as much as a Black Hole—
Then destiny sets in.
I sink or swim depending
When the water moves, but mostly
I just hold my breath.
Amazing, isn't it?
That Death will come to know me
While I’ll never know of Death!
Bread crumbs have always been a sure way
To lead me astray, leaning
Into the whispers of silent trees
Falling, calling my name.
Reality forces itself into me, embodies me.
How are we two different things?
When self is the object, it dies.
When self is the subject, it lies.
I tend to lean into my eyes
When they should lean inward to me;
I tend to pathologize gravity
And pretend that symbols let me.
Let your body show you
Where your fate has been.
In the morning,
I weigh as much as a Black Hole—
Then destiny sets in.
I sink or swim depending
When the water moves, but mostly
I just hold my breath.
Amazing, isn't it?
That Death will come to know me
While I’ll never know of Death!
Bread crumbs have always been a sure way
To lead me astray, leaning
Into the whispers of silent trees
Falling, calling my name.
Reality forces itself into me, embodies me.
How are we two different things?
When self is the object, it dies.
When self is the subject, it lies.
I tend to lean into my eyes
When they should lean inward to me;
I tend to pathologize gravity
And pretend that symbols let me.
2:13:2022
Atoms are God’s army:
Massive and tiny,
Everything and almost nothing entirely.
When I expires, where does it go?
Will I be returned with a library card?
I am not a loan— not alone.
Call it God if you want—
I’m not alone; these words have found me.
I didn't really have much choice in the
matter of abstraction,
in the subject or the action mechanism;
I just say what I'm told.
I does whatever the universe wasn't already doing,
busies itself with sidekick chores.
Has evolution been kind to me?
I suppose it has only been as kind
as much as the creatures she birthed
have control of that word.
But I doesn't control language— it controls me.
Of course, what kind of system
could generate something
apart from its own origin?
That's a tall order
for such a massive tiny army.
Massive and tiny,
Everything and almost nothing entirely.
When I expires, where does it go?
Will I be returned with a library card?
I am not a loan— not alone.
Call it God if you want—
I’m not alone; these words have found me.
I didn't really have much choice in the
matter of abstraction,
in the subject or the action mechanism;
I just say what I'm told.
I does whatever the universe wasn't already doing,
busies itself with sidekick chores.
Has evolution been kind to me?
I suppose it has only been as kind
as much as the creatures she birthed
have control of that word.
But I doesn't control language— it controls me.
Of course, what kind of system
could generate something
apart from its own origin?
That's a tall order
for such a massive tiny army.
2:16:2021
I picked the boy out of a zoo
Because he looked just like you—
Well, in the eyes, he did,
And he means and says
whatever I think he does, too.
He'd never lie to me,
Wouldn't beat me or criticize;
He's got Little Boy Blue eyes;
He’s got feathers in his teeth, and
He looks just like you.
The newspaper says that he's lost his mind,
And the prophecy's confused itself
With filler scenes,
Something penny brown—
But the trumpets still sound.
That's how I know that you means you
Out of every Boy Blue
Who gets ripped from the zoo.
Because he looked just like you—
Well, in the eyes, he did,
And he means and says
whatever I think he does, too.
He'd never lie to me,
Wouldn't beat me or criticize;
He's got Little Boy Blue eyes;
He’s got feathers in his teeth, and
He looks just like you.
The newspaper says that he's lost his mind,
And the prophecy's confused itself
With filler scenes,
Something penny brown—
But the trumpets still sound.
That's how I know that you means you
Out of every Boy Blue
Who gets ripped from the zoo.
2:16:2022
To be gentle like you
Is to weather the rain without learning the word for
Water;
Is to weather the rain without learning the word for
Water;
To be gentle like you
Is to play with the lambs before following them to
Slaughter.
Is to play with the lambs before following them to
Slaughter.
To be gentle like you
Is to open sweet eyes to a light that might
Blind
them;
Is to open sweet eyes to a light that might
Blind
them;
To be gentle like you
Is to memorize movements and lines just to
Find
them.
Is to memorize movements and lines just to
Find
them.
To be gentle like you
Is to take on a journey already
Underway;
Is to take on a journey already
Underway;
To be gentle like you
Is to never quite know
what to say.
Is to never quite know
what to say.
2:20:2021
I'd rather not laugh at scrabble games,
Rather not blather on about this and that
and laugh and laugh and laugh—
Rather not blather on about this and that
and laugh and laugh and laugh—
I'd rather cry when I'm supposed to,
Not when I'm allowed to—
Not when I'm allowed to—
Rather rip and tear at the wallpaper
Like a wild dog
then spend another miserable minute
in this goddamn museum,
Shrieking alarm locks and shrieking arguments—
one waking you up in the morning
one keeping you up at night—
but I'd rather have the latter,
be deceived
than still believe
in poisonous medicine—
Like a wild dog
then spend another miserable minute
in this goddamn museum,
Shrieking alarm locks and shrieking arguments—
one waking you up in the morning
one keeping you up at night—
but I'd rather have the latter,
be deceived
than still believe
in poisonous medicine—
give me medicinal poison.
At least I can read the warnings on the label,
have some informed sense of consequence.
At least I can read the warnings on the label,
have some informed sense of consequence.
2:22:2022
I’m in denial of all causes and effects;
I wait awhile and my memory resets—
Command-Inspect: are we there yet?
Is this the best I’ll ever get;
Have I no right to be upset?
I wait awhile and my memory resets—
Command-Inspect: are we there yet?
Is this the best I’ll ever get;
Have I no right to be upset?
I can’t define the mess I’m in with definitions;
I flick the page and it forces my superstitions—
One condition: can I be more than one condition?
Should I be rid of my suspicions
Or double-down on spoiled traditions?
I flick the page and it forces my superstitions—
One condition: can I be more than one condition?
Should I be rid of my suspicions
Or double-down on spoiled traditions?
I’m out of luck because it ran out of revelations;
I understand I’m not entitled to any compensation.
Another argumentation: what is narration
If not a sweet hallucination’s calculation
Of some chronic misinterpretation?
I understand I’m not entitled to any compensation.
Another argumentation: what is narration
If not a sweet hallucination’s calculation
Of some chronic misinterpretation?
2:24:22
Welcome to Thursday; I hope
Everyone’s doing okay,
Today
Let's just forget about the prefixes and pretenses;
Let's have another round around around around on me.
Under your seat, you'll find
Absolutely nothing, and nothing more—
I don't make the rules, you know;
I just know where to find them.
Everyone’s doing okay,
Today
Let's just forget about the prefixes and pretenses;
Let's have another round around around around on me.
Under your seat, you'll find
Absolutely nothing, and nothing more—
I don't make the rules, you know;
I just know where to find them.
Welcome to Thursday; I know
It's been this way for so long;
no body’s mind can get their clock
Up-and-running—
It's five o’clock everywhere!
Five! Four! Three! Two! One!
Happy New Year!
It's been this way for so long;
no body’s mind can get their clock
Up-and-running—
It's five o’clock everywhere!
Five! Four! Three! Two! One!
Happy New Year!
Welcome to Thursday; I hope
Everyone’s doing okay,
Today…
Everyone’s doing okay,
Today…
3:12:22
What ever happened to
Honest-to-God Knowing—?
Now we just know things.
Store them away in some
Physical place in the brain,
But to access again
requires movement, doesn't it?
Not even movement— synapses moving,
pretending I-N-G
will save me
when I am both reality
and me
Simultaneously.
I can see right through my own hands;
they ache like the ghosts in these walls,
knowing me.
None of these atoms will come to
put trust in my name;
to die in my home.
I can only trick them into
saying it, hearing me.
Experiencing wisdom by wisdoming—
Listening.
Honest-to-God Knowing—?
Now we just know things.
Store them away in some
Physical place in the brain,
But to access again
requires movement, doesn't it?
Not even movement— synapses moving,
pretending I-N-G
will save me
when I am both reality
and me
Simultaneously.
I can see right through my own hands;
they ache like the ghosts in these walls,
knowing me.
None of these atoms will come to
put trust in my name;
to die in my home.
I can only trick them into
saying it, hearing me.
Experiencing wisdom by wisdoming—
Listening.
Socio Logic
(3:17:2022)
(3:17:2022)
Humans are social animals—
well, except for me;
I'm actually an introverted extrovert;
I'm 1/8th Cherokee on my mom's side;
I'm an anti-centrist
And I don't believe in fairies.
And I'm offended
by what you just said:
I'm not social and I'm
definitely not an animal.
I'm human, see?
H-U-M-A-N
— and I'm also a misanthropist,
so you saying that I'm a
"social animal" or whatever
is actually a very bigoted thing to do.
Do you know who you're talking to?
I'm nothing like anyone
and I'm anyone but you.
Allow me to introduce myself:
Fuck you.
well, except for me;
I'm actually an introverted extrovert;
I'm 1/8th Cherokee on my mom's side;
I'm an anti-centrist
And I don't believe in fairies.
And I'm offended
by what you just said:
I'm not social and I'm
definitely not an animal.
I'm human, see?
H-U-M-A-N
— and I'm also a misanthropist,
so you saying that I'm a
"social animal" or whatever
is actually a very bigoted thing to do.
Do you know who you're talking to?
I'm nothing like anyone
and I'm anyone but you.
Allow me to introduce myself:
Fuck you.